by MC Webb
“You did not read your schedule. We have to be ready and waiting in Mexico by mid-week. We have to check in and do rehearsals and test lighting. Come on Ryan you know the drill by now.”
I gaped at her trying to take in what she was saying.
After going back and forth for twenty minutes, I got in the shower, fuming. I let the hot water wash my anger away. I would leave a note at the car, and explain that I would be in Mexico for two or three weeks tops, then after that it was Rome for another four weeks. I would leave my number and my New York address. And apologize profusely. And hope Livia would not think she was a one-night stand.
I ran my hands through my hair, flashing back to the way her skin felt in the sea, the way the salt tasted on her body once on the beach. I opened my eyes and tried to clear my head. No matter what I did, I was worried I’d never see her again. A feeling that was brand new to me. I liked it, but my heart felt heavy.
Viola opened the bathroom door.
“Let’s get a move on, hotshot. We leave in ten minutes.” She closed the door again.
With the heaviness in my chest, I hurried out of the shower, and into the same clothes I’d just taken off. I didn’t bother looking in the mirror. Hair and makeup would shave and clean me up. I wrote out the information I would leave at the car as quickly as I could, thinking I would tell Sheldon to be on the lookout as well. When I yelled for him down the hall, Viola sighed heavily.
“He’s gone already. Let’s go!”
Following an irritated Viola to her rental, I muttered for her to wait.
“Please, give me one second.”
In frustration, Viola growled at me. I ignored her and headed to the Camaro, but it was gone. I looked around. It was nowhere in the lot. Viola pulled up beside me.
“Let’s go,” she demanded.
I looked around the complex, and the car was nowhere in sight. An ambulance and police cars were parked a building away, but no Camaro.
“Damn it!” I screamed.
Viola said nothing, just kept inching forward with each step I took, frantically looking for a car that wasn’t there. I stood in the middle of the parking lot. I had no last name, no apartment number, no nothing. I kicked the side of the Pontiac as I made my way to the passenger side. I threw open the door, got in, and slammed it shut. I was in a black mood, and Viola knew to say nothing to me.
On the way to my trailer for makeup, paranoia crept up. What if I was the one-night stand? Livia did not care for me one bit. In fact, I had to talk her into going, and I talked her into everything else. I smacked my forehead, and said, “Idiot!”
A guy carrying a boom mic muttered, “Sorry,” and hurried away as if I’d been taking to him.
I stomped up the steps, feeling like a used postage stamp. Hours later, Sheldon came to watch. He stayed back, away from everyone, chewing on his already short nails. When we finally wrapped, he told me Nathan had been shot and was in the hospital.
“What?” I said, shocked, thinking of the police cars.
“They think Nathan and Lana had an all-night drug binge with one of her suppliers. Things got ugly. Lana was shot in the neck. Nathan fought them and was shot. It was pretty bad. He had surgery and it looks like he’s going to be okay now. He’s with his sister at the hospital,” Sheldon told me.
I called as soon as I was in my trailer, and the set was being torn down. An operator connected me to Nathan’s room. A woman answered, and I had to pause.
“Livia?”
My heart stopped.
“No,” she said calmly. “This is Piper, Nathan’s sister.”
Her nose was stopped up, no doubt from crying. My heart started back up, but the heaviness returned.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Is Nathan able to talk? This is his friend, Ryan.”
Silence, then muffled voices, and then Nathan got on the phone. He sounded terrible.
He assured me all was well, and that he would be staying with his sister and her husband for a while in Tennessee. After I hung up, I looked for Sheldon. When I found him cracking jokes with the stage guys twenty minutes later, I didn’t hesitate.
“Do you know a girl, a friend of Lana’s maybe, or Nathan’s, named Livia?”
We walked toward a waiting Viola.
“No bro,” Sheldon said. “How come?”
I shook my head.
“Damn it.” I explained very little as to why I was asking.
I would find her one way or another. I headed to the airport with mixed feelings of dread and uncertainty. I tried to sleep but was too distracted. I did some coke and drank bourbon slowly, allowing the warmth to take over. By the time we reached Mexico, I was stoned and pissed off at the world.
…
Days flew by, and no word from Nathan. I couldn’t reach him either. When I finally spoke to Roger, he explained that Nathan was staying with family in Tennessee.
“Nathan is getting clean. It might be best if you gave him some time to sober up. He’ll return your calls. Just give him time to deal with the withdrawal, and get stronger.”
I agreed this was the best, and left it at that.
I thought of Livia day and night. When drug-induced sleep would finally find me, I closed my eyes, hearing her voice. Tasting her skin. I could not locate her. No one could find a Livia who stayed at the apartments.
Darkness was settling in my head and heart. In no time, Viola, Sheldon, and I were off to Rome. As we took off, I looked out the window of the plane, wondering if somewhere down there was a girl I was for sure in love with.
I sighed a heavy sigh and tried to sleep, listening to Sheldon tell me about Beatrice meeting him with the girls when they landed. They would stay for a while and might even look at some property. I tried to be happy for him, but he knew me well.
“What’s up, bro?”
I kept my eyes closed, and shook my head.
“Nothing. Just tired.”
“You act like you’re in a funk. Better snap out of in or you know Viola will have your ass.”
“Just let me be Sheldon. I’m not in the mood to be lectured,” sounding every bit the asshole I was.
Sheldon left me to my thoughts.
I only saw him twice in Rome. I returned to filming and drowned myself in booze every chance I got, trying to keep hope alive that I would see Livia again, and maybe she could understand that I didn’t leave by choice, and I didn’t have control of my own life. I rolled my eyes thinking of just how dumb that sounded.
chapter nineteen
The shoot in Rome took longer than expected, as shoots often did. I could not join Molly on the red carpet for the L.A. Sunset premiere. She called to tell me it went great, and numbers were rising in the States by the day.
“I’m being followed day and night by the paps. Just wait till you get back. It’ll be the same for you. I’ll bet you we’ll be married in two weeks, the way they’re talking!” she laughed.
I went along with her numbly. I did not believe it would be the same with me of course. Molly was a somewhat higher priority, considering her film career and her notoriety.
“Hey, listen. They’re running old pictures of us hanging out. They’re trying to make our on-screen love a reflection of our blossoming off-screen love.” She laughed. “Just be prepared,” she added, more serious now.
“I’m sure it will last all of a day.” I said dryly.
“What’s wrong Ryan? You sound funny and don’t blame it on the international call because I know you better than that.”
I hesitated feeling foolish then decided if I could tell anyone it was Molly.
“I met this girl in Louisiana,”
“Mmm hhhh”
“We kind of just-”
“Screwed like rabbits?” Molly teased.
“Well, yeah but that’s not the point.”
“Oh? There’s a point to a girl? Do tell.”
“Forget it.”
“No, I’m sorry. Tell me.”
“I don’t know, I just kin
d of feel weird and I don’t know her last name or anything.”
“Oh. My. God. Are you telling me you’re in love?”
“No,” I said to fast. “I just spent one day with her.”
“Ryan, babe, sometimes it only takes one look.”
There was sadness in Molly’s voice as she spoke and I knew she had let the possibility of being in love go for fear of being caught by the paparazzi. I told her about Livia and Molly listened and told me once the media circuit was over she would help me look for her. We finally hung up after several hours of talking.
I had to do a media tour in the States when I got back. I had done this a few times before, but never on the hems of a big-budget movie. I was excited. Maybe I would be noticed a little more. Roger called the next day. This was strange. He never called while I was on location. I was immediately on guard. He got right to the point.
“I’m sending Viola tonight. She will help guide you through the frenzy. There are teenagers everywhere. I don’t know who is worse, them or their moms. Anyway there will be a guy by the name of Josh Logue waiting for you at the airport. Nathan recommended him a while back and he’s been bodyguard for a few high profile clients. So far he is excellent security. He’s a little young but great at what he does.”
I couldn’t get a word in, but agreed with the occasional, “Okay.” Finally, when he took a breath, I said, “What? Security? Why? How’s Nathan?”
I hadn’t talked to him, but Sheldon was headed to Tennessee to see him, with his girls. He had told his daughters they could visit Dollywood and ride pretty ponies while they were in Tennessee, and that they might even see wild eagles. I rolled my eyes at this, envious he could come and go so freely.
“He’s doing good. Being sober suits him. I’m headed there for Christmas. We’ll work out your schedule, but I believe you and Molly both will be in France. Maybe we can meet up for New Year’s. You’ve hit the big time, kid. It may not be with the movie you thought, but that just means the next will be even bigger. You know what they say? Be careful what you wish for.”
If he was proud, I didn’t hear it in his voice. He sounded almost sad.
“You’ll be in Tennessee for Christmas?” That was all I had gathered from all he said. “With Sheldon? Why?”
I asked, not knowing what would possess this avid New Yorker to travel to the hills for Christmas.
“Nathan and Piper are my cousins. Well, their dad was my first cousin anyway. I’ve never told you that our granddads were brothers?”
I stupidly said, “Huh?”
He continued. “Yes, our great-grand pop came from the old country and settled in Cosby, Tennessee. Bought up a bunch of land and married a local gal. My dad was much older than the senior Nathaniel, but my dad sought adventures away from the sticks, while Nathaniel went to the war, and came home a hero, and brought a wife with him too. Dad never returned, and after their dad passed, Nathaniel inherited most of the land he’d been helping to work. Granddad always kept a piece set aside for my dad, but when he died, it went to Nathaniel. Anyway, I visit from time to time. I’ve grown to crave the mountains and Piper’s cooking. I go home, as I call it now, every chance I get. Listen to me go on and on about this stuff.”
I listened intently, wishing I were somehow kin to Nathan and Roger too. I was an only child, with a mother lost to me and a father who had wallowed in self-pity since the moment she left him for another man.
Sheldon, Molly, and sadly, Viola were my family. Roger too, but we mostly talked business. I loved Roger, and considered him a surrogate father.
“Be careful, Ryan. Some of these crowds can be a little overwhelming. You’ll like Josh. Get some rest, and I’ll see you soon.” He hung up, not waiting on me to say good-bye.
Viola arrived and stayed the remainder of the shoot. She was on the phone constantly or else watching the news. When I would ask what was going on, she would say, “Nothing. Just concentrate on your acting.”
I couldn’t reach Molly. I assumed she was doing the media circuit, but it was making me nervous. We finally wrapped in Rome. I felt confident in my first big role. The main actress wasn’t well known, but she was nice enough.
The film would have me in emotional states I hadn’t known I had. If I were honest, I would admit it was due to the woman I left in Louisiana. I couldn’t think about her without guilt and frustration.
I headed back to the States, not knowing what wave of crazy I was about to get slapped with. Viola handed me Valium, vodka, and a stack of tabloids on the plane. She explained the craze that surrounded this tiny movie Molly and I had shot together.
Every magazine was covered with my picture, accompanied by Molly. With a jolt, I saw the front cover of one magazine, a small player in the market of tabloids, but they had clearly hit the jackpot without even knowing it.
I sat naked on a blanket in broad daylight with a long-limbed beauty straddling me. It was a grainy photo, taken from some distance away, but you could clearly make out my face. Livia had her head tilted, and her face was half-shadowed by mine. My head whirled, and for a second I wondered if I had actually been there with her. I touched the slick cover with my finger, willing her to know I was still looking for her.
The little magazine had no idea what they had captured, but I was a hot topic and they ran with anything right now. All the other magazines were splashed with my and Molly’s secret wedding. We were either arm-in-arm, as we often walked, or laughing, talking close to each other.
We were painted as lovers. We were not. Molly was like my sister, pure and simple. To have our innocent relationship distorted in this way made me feel ashamed. Besides, had no one noticed she was gay? Then again, she was a good actress.
We arrived at JFK airport. I was met at the terminal by a beefy man with dark hair and a deep, tropical tan. He introduced himself as Josh. By the time I had reached JFK, Sunset had crossed the three hundred million mark and was still climbing.
“Ryan?” Viola said sharply, turning to me in the terminal. “Stay in front of me, and stick to Josh, understand?”
For the first time I was worried.
“Okay,” is all I said, knowing better than to question her.
Josh walked me through what was about to happen. The more he said, the more my stomach clenched. I was going to freak out, right there in front of everyone.
“Remember, do not stop. Keep your head down, glasses on. The flashes will blind you. Just watch my legs and feet. Do not slow down. Keep directly in pace with me. Viola will be behind you, not for security, but for damage control. Do you have a favorite song?” He looked at me seriously, as if guessing I was going to melt down.
“Um, yeah, guess so.” I took the cap he held out for me—a black Yankees hat. I put it on, not caring.
“Good. Keep singing it as we walk. Not out loud, but in your head. It will help you stay calm.”
I was scared now. What was going on? I looked back at Viola. She shrugged, and gave me a pitying look. Did she really feel sorry for me? If so that would be a first.
Before I could breathe, we were off and nearly running. Josh’s long legs stayed in my sights. When I heard screaming, I forgot for a second, and looked up. I wanted to be flattered, but I was horrified. My ears nearly burst. Flashbulbs were going off quicker than I could blink. I lost sight of Josh, and nearly got swept away by the current of what must have been hundreds of screaming girls.
I felt Viola’s hand on my back, pushing me to keep going, Josh got a handful of my jacket and pulled.
A girl was screaming, “Please take me home with you! You would love me.”
I wanted to pass out. The crowd was swelling and crushing me. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. The screaming was deafening. I was picked up off my feet more than once. Josh pulled me so hard my jacket cut into my neck. I paid no attention to it.
I tried to start singing in my head, but then I forgot the song. After what felt like twenty minutes, we climbed into a waiting Suburban. I’d ne
ver been more thankful for anything than I was for that car. Viola was already in the front seat when Josh and I got in.
I took several deep breaths before speaking.
“What the hell is going on?”
Viola looked back at me smiling, “Welcome to the movie business, kid. You’re a star.” And she winked.
We were flying down the streets at breakneck speed, Josh looking here and there, making comments. I felt stings on my neck and hands, little tiny scrapes from fingernails.
We were on Fifth Avenue before Josh spoke. “You did good, Ryan, and I think we are good at the Plaza,” he said.
I frowned.
“The Plaza? I wanted to go to my apartment,” I said, now looking at Viola.
She ignored me, if she heard me at all. Josh shook his head.
“No can do, padre. Maybe tonight when the crazies are worn out, but it’s a bees’ nest at your place.”
This pissed me off. As nice as the Plaza was, I was ready to go home and veg in front of the TV, in my underwear, with food that was bad for me, and maybe make a few calls to try and locate Livia again. I wasn’t going to give that one up.
“Shit,” I said, disgusted.
…
Over the next few days, it only got worse. Paps and girls found my hotel in the city, and then someone published the address of my apartment in SoHo. Molly was staying with me by then. All we did was drink, snort coke, and pop pills. I watched the streets, frantic and anxiety-ridden. I watched the tabloid news obsessively.
Molly and I were always the first story of the night. Though she thought it was crazy, it didn’t seem to bother her like it did me. I had nightmares of being chased. Josh stayed day and night, and though it wasn’t said, I had the distinct impression that some of these people would easily hurt me if they got to me. I was a prisoner for weeks.
Finally, I was escorted to my apartment in the dead of night. A few paps were camped out, and I was paranoid as hell by the time I got inside and dead-bolted the door. The next few days, I did business on the phone, and Viola was in and out of the apartment. She never commented on the amount of drugs or booze I was consuming.
