One~
What looked like a billion blinding flashbulbs went off as he took a deep breath and stepped out of the car, stumbling slightly. He fought – and won - the urge to sit back down and quickly close the door while his hand and fingers automatically raised to run through his hair, forcing himself to smile as he got his bearings. The shrieking was deafening, puzzling, and a not even a bit flattering at this point. He knew they didn't care about him, it was all about Edward, and this ridiculous three-ringed circus that had pitched its many tents permanently over his head just pointed that fact out more clearly. In bloody bright red and white Big Top colors. Step right up, ladies and gentlemen, see the Most Amazing Show on Earth - Robert Pattinson, the Wonder Schmuck. Look at that Hair, folks, isn't it Incredible? How about the Face, and those Eyes? It was all just outward packaging that absolutely no one had paid any attention to last year. Every soul he'd met recently wanted something. Want, want, want and more never-ending want. Skanks wanted to fuck him, actors wanted to be his buddy and shove into pictures with him at events, little girls wanted to marry him, every person in a three mile radius wanted a picture and an autograph, some to revere, some to sell for profit or to drag his name through the muck; his staff, the production company, director, wardrobe and make-up, fucking everyone wanted his time and complete attention on the job at hand, which was - where it all began. Twilight. He shook his head imperceptibly and worked hard to turn his grimace into a real smile as he turned slightly to give the wall of flashing lights a different angle. He told himself sternly to shore up and quit wallowing, this is what all actors dreamed of. The Amazing Show. Well, here it was in living color. He knew he should be excited. He should be feeling blessed. But none of these shrieking people knew him. And they only wanted to know him because he was in Twilight. Where were they all last year? Very few people had wanted to "get to know him" or "have a drink" or even fuck for most of last year. It all seemed so completely odd and wrong. Yes, all actors dreamed of this. But all he dreamed about these days was a dark, quiet room and a tall bottle of good whiskey.
He rotated again to the left and there were Kristen and Catherine. Kristen shot him a tight smile and he noted Catherine's quick look of concern. He walked toward them slowly and she immediately moved to join him, smiling happily for the cameras as he slid his arm around her. He wasn't fooled. Lowering his head, he quietly asked "What happened?" Her hand was shaking as it touched his back and her hair looked as if she'd been man-handling it after the stylist had finished. The smile? It wasn't coming anywhere near her eyes.
She stared somewhere in front of him. "I'm falling apart. Michael and I broke up in the car. We had a huge fight." She smiled tentatively up at him but he saw the tears she couldn't allow.
He didn't know what to say. He gave her a small smile and rubbed her back with his thumb in the smallest of movements and as inconspicuously as possible. A few hundred too many people watching to hug her like he wanted to. Too many "suits". He slid his arm all the way around her again and pulled her tighter into his side for a just a moment, wondering what the idiot had done now. He continued to smile as he imagined having a brief conversation with Michael that ended with the satisfying crunch of his own fist against the fool's jaw. He wasn't prone to violence in any way, in fact he'd probably end up hurting himself worse, but this guy.... He didn't like the way he treated her one bit. But he knew better. She'd resent his interference, and she was more than capable of taking care of herself. It wasn't his place.
Picture time was over and they were herded toward the theater for the premiere. He lost sight of her as they stopped to sign books and posters.
Riding the elevator up, he realized he didn't really remember much after they'd gotten inside the theater. He supposed he'd answered the monotonous questions yet again, and hoped he'd given a satisfactory performance. He smiled wryly realizing plenty of people would be sure to tell him in the morning if he hadn't. He loosened the choking tie and unlocked his door, stepping into the cool dark sanctuary of the hotel room, just standing there drinking in the silence and privacy while the door swung quietly closed behind him. He'd viewed enough in the dim glow shining through the open frame from the plush hallway to know where he needed to go without flipping on the light switch. He shrugged out of his jacket and after a few minutes of blissful quiet leaning back against the door, he walked directly to the small bar and opened the refrigerator, then the freezer door. A rocks glass was illuminated and filled with ice, a bottle of very nice whiskey was examined, uncapped, and poured gratefully, then the light from the fridge was extinguished as its door whispered shut. He walked to the table and set his drink down, pulling out an upholstered chair and opening the French doors behind it to the night sky just past the wrought iron railing on the balcony. He knew he should know exactly where he was, he'd just flown into the airport 8 hours earlier, for fuck's sake, but he didn't. Nor did he care. All he could see were stars, no landmarks, as his room was near the top of the building. Whatever noise there was in the streets was far, far below him and he was thrilled with this place; his sanctuary until somebody told him when and where to go next. He settled into the soft chair and gazed out at the stars, taking a deep sip of his drink. It was perfect. He let it burn on his tongue before swallowing it and thought about nothing, just staring into the night sky.
He was on his third drink when he heard a light tap on the door. His shoulders immediately tensed and he idly wondered who had paid hotel security enough to get his room number. He ignored it. They went away. He'd just barely relaxed a half hour later when another knock sounded on the door. Softly. He ignored it. This time they hesitantly knocked again. Once......twice and again. Louder. He sighed heavily and decided to have a look at whatever skank had the stones to try this. It could be amusing. He got up and walked slowly to the door, looking out the peep-hole just in time to see Kristen bite her lip and turn away, her face nervous and unhappy.
"Kristen?" He quietly said her name as he pulled open the door. What the hell? He watched as she froze in her tracks and turned back to him after hurrying down the hall, seeming a bit like a deer in headlights. She looked almost like she'd been caught; like she hadn't wanted him to know she'd been knocking on his door at all. She gave him an awkward wave and it made him smile. Kristen was rarely awkward - only with an interviewer in her face. That was his forte. He motioned for her to come back. She smiled apologetically and he shook his head at her as she came through the door. He let it swing shut and hoped she wouldn't ask him about the darkness.
"Oh. Oh wow." She barely whispered as she took in the view of only stars painted on a black night.
He walked across the room and pulled out a matching upholstered chair for her, sliding it around next to his. She followed and after quickly kicking off her heels, sat down, pulling her legs up underneath her. She still had on the white beaded dress. He wondered why. He'd told her she looked lovely earlier and had meant it. He now decided this was his favorite dress on her. But wait. That black lacy number at the Vanity Fair shoot had been utterly beautiful on her, especially with the high topped Converse shoes she'd worn with it. So very Kristen-ish. Classy and hip, or whatever it was Americans called it. He realized he was staring at her dress when she shyly looked away from him. He handed her his drink in apology and sat down next to her. She took a sip and he watched closely to see how she handled it. Definite widening of her eyes. Tilt to her head as she swallowed hard. She didn't give it back. Amused, he smiled and went to the bar to make himself another one, then sat next to her. They drank and looked at the sky in silence.