She pushed a piece of hair behind my ear. "Because, honey, I love you, and so we're going to deal with the aftermath of this weekend together. I'm busy. And still itchy. I hardly have time for this." She raised her eyebrows, a corner of her lip quirking up. She was trying to make me smile. It worked. I loved her.
"Now sit. I'll get you a cup of coffee and you tell me all the details. I don't have to be at class until eleven." Abby was in school at one of the best culinary institutes in the D.C. area. Her cooking was to die for. If I ever indulged, it was to try out one of her recipes. I was never disappointed. We had met on a roommate search site when I had first moved to D.C and not only hit it off as roommates, but had become best friends as well. She was funny and sweet and just slightly outrageous when she wanted to be. She was good for me. She was my third sister.
She poured me a cup of coffee and added cream and sugar to it and put it in front of me. I wrapped my hands around the warm mug and brought it to my mouth, taking a small sip of the hot liquid.
Abby studied me. "At least tell me you didn't fall in love with him, honey," she said quietly.
"It was a weekend, Abby," I said back quietly as well, looking away from her.
She stared into my eyes. "Oh shit. You idiot. You totally did! You fell in love with the porn star!" She groaned, leaning back and sliding down in her chair. "Oh God, this is worse than I thought. When you let loose, you really go all out, don't you girlfriend? Holy crapola."
"Abby, I didn't fall in love in two days. I just… I care about him. I didn't want to say goodbye," I said miserably.
"Start at the beginning, hon. I want a play-by-play, and I know you're sad, but don't gloss over sexytimes."
I laughed and then sniffled. "You're really a perv, you know that?"
"Uh huh. I make no apologies. Now go."
We talked until she had to shower and leave for class. I cried a little more. Then I went into my room, did a face plant on my bed, and didn't wake up until Abby was walking back in the door at six that night.
**********
Carson
I went straight from the airport to the hotel where my shoot was being held, knowing that I could shower there. They'd need to prep me for the cameras anyway. I was used to the drill.
I had barely slept for two hours the night before, listening to every sound in the hallway, hoping against hope that Grace would decide to come back. There was no way I could go to her after the way we'd parted… we had said our goodbyes. I couldn't make it any harder on her. But, I thought maybe she'd change her mind and decide to stay just one more night with me. And so instead of going to the airport like I'd thought about, I stayed in the room where she'd know I'd be. But she hadn't come back. I understood. It still sucked. And the worst part of it all was that I missed her in a way I'd never missed anyone else before. Every instinct in me told me to charge after her, claim her as mine. But we had gone over it. It wasn't possible. Our lives didn't mesh, and there was nothing we could do right now to make that happen.
I had thought about her all night, wondering what it was about her that had gotten under my skin so deeply, so quickly. Maybe I was trying to figure it out so I could dismiss the feeling of loss that I couldn't shake. In the end, I decided that there wasn't an answer. It was just because she was her, and it was really just as simple as that. It didn't matter anyway, but my brain kept turning it over until I thought I'd go crazy.
I knocked on the door of the suite number Courtney had texted me that morning, and was let in by a cameraman I had worked with before. "Hey Joe," I greeted him.
"Hey Carson, how's it going?" He shook my hand.
"Is makeup set up in there?" I asked, indicating a closed door leading to what I assumed was the bedroom and bathroom.
"Yeah. They're waiting for you."
"Okay," I said and headed in. When I opened the door, I was greeted by Courtney who mouthed 'hi' to me as she put her hand over the cell phone she was talking into.
"Hi, Carson!" I heard a high-pitched voice say. "I'm Bambi." A naked blonde with large, obviously fake breasts said from a makeup chair over by the window. A woman with a small makeup brush was applying something to Bambi's nipples.
I smiled tightly. I was so not into this. Just get through it and get paid, I reminded myself. "Hey, Bambi, nice to meet you," I said, walking over and shaking her hand.
She giggled. "Is that the best you got for me honey?" she asked, standing and swatting the makeup person aside as she leaned in to kiss me softly on the lips, running her tongue over my bottom one before leaning back on a smile I'm sure she thought was seductive. Why she was bothering, I wasn't sure. I thought it was pretty obvious that I was a sure thing here, whether I wanted to be or not. Fuck. Why was I suddenly feeling ill?
I smiled at her again and asked, "This your first shoot?"
"Yes, and I specifically asked for you for my first time," she batted her eyelashes. "I've had a crush on you since I saw your picture on Courtney's website. This is gonna be fun!"
Interesting. I backed away. "Well, I gotta shower, but I'll be out in a few," I said, turning.
"I'll be ready for you!" she called after me.
I went into the bathroom and took a quick shower, and then asked the makeup people if they could pull the chair into the bathroom. I wasn't in the mood to chat with Bambi, or anyone for that matter. I needed some time to get my head in the game here, so to speak. Or at the very least, my body.
Unlike the longer-length films I had done, this was just a one-day shoot so at least it'd be over after today.
Thankfully makeup wasn't a big production on a shoot like this one, especially for me. Anything applied would just rub off so not much was used. Courtney came in and kissed my cheek. "Hey babe," she said. "You look tired." She looked at the girl touching me up. "Put some concealer under his eyes Marcia."
"I'm fine, Courtney. Dim the lights."
"Even dim lights won't hide those bags, love. What'd you do? Stay up all night partying?"
I snorted. "I wish."
Marcia rubbed something under my eyes and blotted it and then signaled that she was done.
Courtney looked down at my boxers. "Need some time alone, hon?"
"Yeah," I answered already wondering if I'd be able to get it up at all.
"Okay, the shoot calls for Bambi to touch herself for a few minutes on the bed and then you come join her, ready to start the party, got it? You'll move out on to the balcony after a few minutes and continue there."
"Yeah. Okay."
"Good." She looked at me for a couple beats, but then cleared out and closed the door behind her.
I stood there still for a couple minutes as I heard the music start in the bedroom beyond. I dropped my boxers and leaned back on the sink and tried to get in the mood. It wasn't working. I thought about all the sex I'd had this weekend with Grace. Maybe I had overdone it. Grace. I felt a twitch and as I pictured her bent over the bed in heels and a thong, begging for me to take her, I hardened fully. I pictured all of the ways I had taken her over the weekend and after a couple minutes, I was painfully hard.
There was a soft knock on the door indicating they were ready for me. I walked out and watched for a minute as Bambi writhed on the bed, moaning in an over-the-top way, her hand between her legs. I almost lost my erection. I closed my eyes and pictured Grace again and moved toward the bed. I joined Bambi and as I sat down beside her, she sat up slightly and started kissing me, thrusting her tongue in my mouth and moaning loudly. I almost grimaced. She didn't taste like sunshine and sweetness. I opened my eyes and looked down her body. Her skin wasn't pale and creamy, it was dark and overly tanned. I shut my eyes quickly and tried to bring Grace to mind. I had to keep her face and body in my brain if I was going to do this. I reached up to touch her hair and it wasn't heavy silk in my hand, it was dry and crispy with hairspray. We continued kissing and she brought her hand up to my cheek, the one that she had used to touch herself. I smelled her essence on her hand and that
was it. I broke away from her and stood up. "Sorry," I muttered. "Not your fault but this isn't working for me."
"Cut!" I heard yelled.
I walked into the bathroom, retrieved my clothes and started pulling them on as Courtney's voice sounded at the door. "Carson, babe, if you need a little more time or maybe a blue pill I've got you covered."
I opened the door, pulling on my shoes. I pushed past Courtney. "Sorry, Courtney, I really am. But I can't do this anymore." I looked around the room in general, catching sight of a pouting Bambi pulling a robe on in the corner. "I'm sorry for wasting all of your time. I don't know what to say. I'm just… sorry." Then I walked to the door of the suite, opened it and closed it behind me quietly.
**********
I walked back to the elevators and pushed the "down" button. What the fuck had I just done? I was gonna get sued and I'd never make a film again. So why didn't I give even a small rat's ass right now? I was basically penniless and jobless and I felt… fine. What exactly are you going to do now fuckwit? What about a fucking plan before you do some shit like that? I laughed out loud. A plan. I reached both hands up and laced my fingers together, putting them on my forehead and letting my head fall back. I stood like that for a minute until I heard the elevator ding and the doors start to open. I dropped my hands and started stepping toward it, when I saw who was getting off. Shit! Tim.
He looked surprised. "Carson," he said, frowning, "you can't be done already." He looked down at his watch, his frown deepening. The elevator doors closed behind him and he took a step closer to me.
I took a deep breath. "The shoot is over, Tim. But only because I walked out."
His brows snapped down. "You walked out? What the hell is going on?"
I shook my head slightly. "Listen, Tim, I would have called you later to let you know. But I'm done. I'm not gonna be making films anymore."
He looked at me for a second, his eyes narrowing. Then he let out a sharp laugh, lacking in any humor. "Well, Goddamn. She must have been one hell of a fuck for you to throw your whole career away. Now I really wish she had taken me up on my offer to join me in my hotel room."
I jolted. "Your offer?" I asked, watching him closely for a couple beats. "Your fucking offer?" I repeated, realization that Tim had propositioned Grace when he came to my hotel room the day before, crashing into me.
I moved on him before he even knew what was coming, grabbing his dress shirt and walking him backwards until I slammed him against the wall. Rage was pumping through my blood as I got right up in his face. "You sick, depraved mother fucker. How dare you speak to her like that! How dare you even fucking look at her! I should beat the living shit out of you!"
"What the fuck are you doing?" he interrupted, yelling. "Over a piece of ass, Carson? Over a fucking piece of ass?"
A coldness spread through me as I took him in for a beat, balled up my fist and smashed it into his face. Blood spurted from his nose and I let go of him, letting him sink to the floor. He looked up at me dazedly.
I stepped back and pushed the elevator button again. That same coldness took over my body, the feeling that I was watching the scene from above washing through me. In that moment, something felt like it clicked into place, my body jolting slightly. "I'll no longer require your representation, Tim," I said, without emotion. I felt nothing for the sleazy asshole bleeding on the floor in front of me, nothing but hollow contempt. The elevator doors opened and I stepped into it, my eyes never leaving him as the doors between us closed.
**********
I hopped in my car, a black Nissan Pathfinder that I had bought six months ago after signing with Courtney, and sat there without starting it for a couple minutes, staring unseeing out my window. I leaned forward and banged my head on the steering wheel, resting there for a minute as I cleared my head. I leaned up and started my car and drove like a homing pigeon to the entrance of the freeway. As I drove, I glanced up at a billboard I'd seen a thousand times driving through this part of the city, and my eyes drank it in for the first time, seeing it from a different perspective now. A feeling flowed through me that I couldn't explain, a strange energy that suddenly pulsed through my veins at the idea forming in my brain. Without thinking too much, I pulled out my phone and looked up an address on the Internet. I turned on my GPS and followed the prompts until I arrived at my destination in Santa Monica about twenty minutes later. I parked and got out of my car before I could talk myself out of this. As I was pulling the door open, I glanced up at the sign, Navy Recruiting.
One chance to change your mind, Carson. I paused for a second, but then pulled the door fully open.
I walked in and was immediately greeted by a man wearing a khaki uniform, with a nametag and a few ribbons on his shirt. "Can I help you?" he asked.
Was I really going to do this? Grace's face popped into my head. "I'm here to enlist," I said.
"Well, okay then, I'm your guy," he said on a big smile. "Come on over with me. I'm Petty Officer First Class, Duane Mitchell," he said, stopping to shake my hand quickly and then continuing on to his desk. He sat behind it and indicated a chair on the other side. I sat down.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Carson Stinger."
"Okay, Carson, well before we get started with anything, let's chat for a minute. What's brought you to this decision?" He leaned back in his chair, studying me.
I cleared my throat. "Well, to be honest, I don't really have any options that look a whole lot better. I'm not the college type. I already know that. I want to do something worthwhile with my life."
He nodded. "Well, that's as good a reason as any. Now let me ask you this, have you thought about what job you'd like to do?"
"Uh, not really. I kind of just decided I was gonna do this about half an hour ago."
He laughed. "Right. Well, what are you good at?"
I thought about that for a second. "I'm a great swimmer and I'm good at extreme sports."
Petty Officer Mitchell studied me again for a couple seconds. He nodded his head toward a poster of a group of men in dive gear, machine guns in hand emerging from the water. "Ever heard of a Navy SEAL?"
"A SEAL? Yeah, of course. I'd be suited to be a SEAL?" I asked.
"Well, I don't know. You'd need to score really high on a test called the ASVAB and then pass a physical test during basic training that will ensure you a spot in BUD/S, which stands for Basic Underwater Demolition SEAL Training." He paused, eyeing me, but I remained silent. He went on. "Then you have to make it through basic training and A-School. And then, if you're lucky enough to make it to BUD/S, only about twenty percent of men actually make it through, which means eighty percent fail. So, are you suited to be a SEAL? Not many men are. But if you're a good swimmer and you like sports that are dangerous and take a high level of skill, it's a decent start. But I'll be honest with you, BUD/S is the most rigorous military training on the face of the planet earth. Think on it carefully."
I nodded, furrowing my brow. I didn't need to think on it carefully. My answer came to my lips almost before my brain could process it. "Let's get started," I said.
Chapter Fourteen
Grace
I sat on my bed half-heartedly studying. My heart was heavy and I felt a longing inside me that I didn't know what to do with. I missed him, plain and simple. When was this going to get better? It had been a couple days since I'd gotten home from Vegas and it felt like my feelings were intensifying instead of weakening. I had only known him for two and a half days. Didn't it make sense that I could forget him in that amount of time too? I sighed and lay back on my pillow, staring at the ceiling. What was he doing right now? I cringed when I thought of the very real possibility that he was on set again. Then again, he'd told me that he had only made four films in six months and he'd just made one a couple days before. A fierce surge of disgust rose up in me when I pictured him with someone else, even someone he'd never see again. I wanted to scream at the very thought. And then I wanted to throw myself on th
e floor and cry until I was exhausted and numb. That's what you get when you develop feelings for a porn star. I was an idiot, just like Abby had jokingly called me.
But how had he handled it? Had it been hard for him too, like he'd told me it would be? He'd said I'd changed things for him. And realistically, what that meant was that my short-term legacy would be that I made his life more difficult. I couldn't feel badly about that. I hoped I had ruined his ability to do porn. He could do so much more. I couldn't be the one to make up his mind about that though. He'd have to do that himself. It's why I had walked away. It's why I had had no choice but to walk away. God, he probably wished he'd never met me.
I didn't feel that way about him though, as much as I hurt. I knew what he did, but he was more to me than that. If he weren't, it would have been easy to walk away. I might have even run. And therein lay the problem. An impossible problem.
I lay there for a little while longer, lost in my thoughts when I got a very, very bad idea. I wrestled with it for a few minutes before I stood up and grabbed my laptop off my desk. I powered it up and sat cross-legged on my bed, my hands shaking as I typed his name into Google search. The first site on the list was a website called ArtLove.com and against my better judgment, I clicked on it. I knew this was a bad idea and yet it was like I was possessed. I was powerless to stop myself.
"Grace?" Abby called, as I heard the front door shut.
"In here," I called back, reducing the screen before it had fully loaded.
I heard her footsteps and looked up from the computer when she appeared in my doorway in her school uniform, black pants and a white chef's coat.
"What are you doing?" she asked, taking her hair out of the ponytail it was in and massaging her scalp.
"Um, looking up porn," I said, half-grimacing, half-smiling.
Abby's hand froze in her hair. "Uh, okay. You do have a lock on your door, you know?"
I rolled my eyes. "I'm looking up Carson, Abby," I said.
Exposed: An Anthology Page 170
