"Hello, Elaine. Nice to meet you," the documentarian, Irene Cooper said warmly, offering her hand to Elaine Watson.
"Pleasure to meet you, too, Irene," Elaine returned, slumping back in her chair.
"Well, you know why you're here. After two years of secretly being known as 'E. Wat' to celebrities only, the word finally slipped. Why suddenly was it known worldwide? You're a very smart woman and probably could have avoided this," Irene stated, clicking her pen, readying herself to take notes.
"Ha, thanks, Irene. You know, I guess I just decided that I didn't want this anymore. And E. Wat couldn't just suddenly disappear. I felt the only way to end this was to talk. And once the celebrities knew I was getting the word around, they did the same," Elaine answered, playing with a loose bead on her jacket.
"Huh. Well, would you mind telling me the whole story? I don't think anyone really knows the story exactly-they only know bits and parts-and the world is dying to know," the documentarian asked as she placed her pen and paper down, picking up a voice recorder instead.
"Of course, that's why I'm here, isn't it?" Elaine giggled, getting a laugh out of the stiff figure of Irene, as well. "Alright . . . Well I guess I should start at the beginning."
"Yes, starting there would be nice," Irene said impatiently, hovering her thumb over the record button.
Elaine's face tightened along with a fake smile. She hated being interviewed, especially by hardheaded bitches who are younger than her and think they know it all. Yes, Elaine made some mistakes in the past few years, and she knew it, but Irene is at least five or six years younger. Probably working on a class assignment that, if done well, will be published and broadcasted on the History channel.
Elaine is a thirty year-old who has seen it all. She could crush Irene's fragile figure with just her thumbs and eyes closed, in a matter of seconds. Then crack her ridiculous 60's-looking glasses in half with her teeth, chew the glass lenses, and swallow. All without a single scar.
"Alright then," Elaine breathed, telling herself to release the tension on her face muscles. "Well . . . I guess it all started about two years ago-back in 2008. I was about a month into my interviewing career. I was interviewing Robert Downey, Jr. at the Los Angeles premiere of the first Iron Man . . ."
It was a particularly warm evening in LA. Elaine fought to keep her red, thick, curly hair out of a bun to keep a professional look. Her red silk tank top had a light shimmer in it from the setting sun. The white skinny jeans she wore hugged her legs just right, accentuating her curves nicely. Elaine longed to sit down for a few minutes for her black stiletto heels made her feet ache with every step she took.
Elaine was doing great. She got in some words from Gwyneth Paltrow, Terrence Howard, and Shaun Toub. Feeling as though her luck was running out, she had come to the decision to pack up and leave. But what she really wasn't looking forward to was the drive home in her car without air conditioning.
Her and her camera man walked back up the red carpet. Elaine winced when she took a step. Trying to pose as if she weren't in utter pain, she looked up, forcing herself to walk normally. She looked up just in time. Just feet before her was Robert Downey, Jr., Iron Man himself. He was busy signing autographs. Elaine frantically looked around. She couldn't find any other reporters interested in talking with Downey. She waved her camera man to roll the film as she pranced over to where the man stood.
"Hello, Mr. Downey, Jr. Would you mind if I got a few words from you?" Elaine asked joyfully. She noticed the pain in her feet went away but knew it would return soon enough.
"No, not at all-" He turned to turn to face her and was paralyzed by her beauty. Her excited hazel eyes and bright smile seemed to freeze time itself. He watched helplessly as her golden curls danced about her head in the warm and dry western wind. He was finally able to find his voice to say, "You can call me Robert."
"Then you can call me Elaine," She said, feeling her cheeks flush bright red. Elaine bit her lip as she watched Robert smile at her. "Robert, was it hard to walk around in the suit?"
He finally snapped back to reality. But only slightly. "Hell yeah. The thing is heavy!"
Elaine continued her questioning, feeling proud that she got an interview with the lead star of the movie. She watched with her peripheral vision as the fans began to file out, not taking her eyes off of Robert's. When she felt she had enough information, she thanked Robert and continued her walk to the car.
"Wait! Elaine!" Robert's voice called. She twisted around, tucking her hair behind one ear. He jogged up to her, taking the white flower he wore off his suit.
"Here, I'll take everything to the truck. See you later," Elaine's cameraman said, taking her mic and running off.
Elaine watched him run down the carpet and turned around to see Robert standing less than arm's length from her. He handed her his flower, which she took with a big smile. "Do you wanna maybe . . . come back with me for some drinks or something?"
Without thinking, Elaine said yes and walked beside Robert with his hand at the small of her back. He escorted her to his limo with an amazing interior.
"Wine or beer?" He asked, reaching into a cooler.
"Wine," Elaine replied, getting cozy across from Robert. She was handed a glass of Pinot Noir. They sipped and talked on the long drive back to Robert's place.
"Why are you sitting way over there?" Robert asked, patting his hand on the space next to him. "Come over here!"
With a smile, Elaine lifted herself up from the seat and wobbled over to Robert, falling nearly on top of him. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, holding her close. They toasted to Elaine's successful evening and licked away the remaining beads of wine from the edge of the smooth, welded glass. Robert placed their glasses down and brought his other arm around Elaine. Not a wisp of air flowed between their bodies. Elaine raised her eyes to look at Robert's chocolate brown orbs only to be met by his lips smashing into hers. The pricks of his mustache tickled Elaine's nose and mouth. So this is what it's like to kiss a celebrity.
Elaine sat on a king sized bed alone in a large bedroom. The light was dimmed to a romantic setting. She could hear Robert in the other room getting things together before beautiful piano pieces sounded about the room on the hidden speakers. Robert appeared at the doorway, walking towards her slowly. "I've always found this album romantic."
He mounted directly in front of Elaine. She stood up from the bed and took a firm hold of his dress shirt, pulling their hot bodies together, joined at the lips. She felt his fumbling fingers play with the buttons on her own shirt. Robert pulled away gasping for air before beholding the marvel before him that were Elaine's breasts. They were cupped so perfectly in the blood red push up she wore. He pushed the silky top down her arms and could only stare at the 36C's. Gently, he grazed his fingertips over the smooth surface of her skin as Elaine worked the buttons on his dress shirt.
Robert sat Elaine on the bed, and he knelt before her. She watched impatiently, with the intense tingle between her legs as he caressed the skin between her breasts. She slowly pulled the cups down to release them. Robert watched, nearly panting, as they were unleashed from the confinements of the brassier, lightly bouncing before his eyes. With little hesitation, he wrapped his arm around her waist and took her right breast in his mouth, jostling the left in his free hand. Elaine moaned, running her fingers through his darkened hair.
They crawled up higher to be met with the pillows at the head of the bed. They each removed their pants so they were only lying in their undergarments. Elaine finally reached behind her and snapped the bra off. Robert pushed his boxers down his legs and flung them down the bed. Elaine studied the actor's length, admiring the erection he had for her. Robert leaned over her, taking her panties in his teeth, dragging them down her freshly-shaved legs and pushing them to the side of the bed.
He got himself between her legs and plunged his erection inside her. Satisfactory moans from Elaine and Robert bounced off the walls of the room, echoing down the long halls. He started slowly, building speed as he thought to be reaching Elaine's climatic point.
Elaine let out a deafening screech, arching her back onto Robert. He pulled his length out of her warm inside and lay next to her as his release ejected from his erection. She cuddled up next to Robert and pulled the covers over them, falling asleep.
Elaine woke at around five in the morning. She looked at her sticky and naked body then to actor, Robert Downey, Jr. She realized she'd made a huge mistake that could end both of their careers. Quickly and quietly, Elaine scrambled out of bed and got dressed. She tied her hair back in a messy bun and wrote a quick note to Robert:
Robert, I'm truly sorry, but I had to leave. If we were caught, both of our jobs could be in jeopardy. I couldn't do that to you after the hard times you've already had in your career. I had a lot of fun last night, more than you could imagine, and I thank you for it. Good luck, Robert. Maybe we'll meet again. Oh, and I'm not putting my real name at the end in case someone finds this. Too risky.
Thanks again.
E. Wat
"So that's how you got the name 'E. Wat"," Irene said ecstatically, proud that she knows the story behind Elaine's secret name.
"Yep, it sure is. And after that it just stuck," Elaine stated, examining her ruby red nails and the large rock on her finger. "And, obviously, that's not where the story ends!"
"Oh please, Elaine, tell more! This is so interesting!" Irene exclaimed, actually sounding interested for once.
"Well . . ." Elaine went quiet for a moment recalling the next line of events. "Let me tell you about the times I had with Orlando Bloom, Jude Law, and Jay Leno."
Irene's eyes widened as she gasped dramatically. "You did Jay Leno?"
Elaine laughed, leaning forward in her chair. "No, no. I was kidding. I actually meant Johnny Depp."
Irene sighed, relaxing before sitting erect in her chair. "Johnny Depp?" Her hand went up and clutched her heart.
"Yes, yes, I am talking about Jack Sparrow-Johnny Depp," Elaine explained, playing with the loose bead on her jacket again.
"Please, begin at once!" Irene instructed, pressing the record button.
"Next in line was Orlando Bloom . . ."