"When you are in my arms—only then everything is right!"
― Kristin Kay, One: Angels Are Hard to Love
Present Time
Beck
I read over the script that I was given a few days ago. Things are finally looking up for me. After a few leads in low budget Indie films, I'm finally casted as the lead role in a TV series. It's a limited series, 12 episodes, streaming on Netflix, but the show seems really good. I know that this will be great for my career.
I play a barely functional alcoholic, man whore who woke up from one of many blackouts, drenched in blood with the police banging on the door. The story is amazing, and it keeps me on the edge of my seat. I can't believe that I was picked to play this character. This is unbelievable.
Beep beep.
I get a notification on my phone. It's a message from the creator of the show.
Hey, I have some great news. We were given the greenlight to go ahead and film on location. We are heading to New York! Brooklyn to be exact this is amazing!
Filming on location in Brooklyn…I've been to New York a handful of times and it's not my cup of tea. People are rude, it's loud and noisy at all times of the day and night and the winter is deadly. If I wanted to freeze to death, I would move back to Canada. I much prefer California. But, these are all superficial reasons. None of them are real enough to make me pass up this opportunity.
That is awesome. When do we go?I text back.
This Friday. Meet me at LAX at 7 am and go ahead and get out of your lease or whatever, we'll be on location for about 6 months. 8 at the max.
Friday, that's in 2 days. Not really a lot of time to pack and get ready. But it's cool, I guess I can have Robbie pack up the rest of the stuff that I need and ship it to me. Speaking of which, I should probably wake him up and let know that I'm leaving. Hopefully he'll be able to handle rent by himself…
I make my way to his bedroom and knock loudly on the door. He's still sleeping from his late night shift at the Comedy Bar. The hours and pay is absolute garbage, but at least he gets to perform once a night and get free food and drinks. It also allows for him to still take his classes to USC.
"...mmhmmm…." I hear him make sounds.
"Robbie, wake up. We gotta talk man." I tell him through the door, pounding on it some more.
"Mmm…hmmm…5 more minutes." He grumbles. I sigh.
"Sorry Cat, looks like he's still sleep. I guess you would have to surprise him some other time." I lie. And just like I knew it would, there are loud sounds of him struggling to get up and make his way to the door. After 10 seconds he is at the door, hair a mess, glasses shoved crookedly on his face, clad in a dirty Mandolorian shirt and boxers.
"I'm up, I'm here Cat!" He says excitedly, looking around for someone who isn't here. I smile at him as he realizes the con and lets out a sad sigh. "Why'd you do that man? I was really excited." He adjusts his glasses and makes his way back into his room. I follow him, taking care to avoid stepping into the piles of dirty clothes and shoes on his floor.
"Sorry man, but I had to talk to you. Only mentioning a certain redhead would wake you up."
"Still a pretty crappy move. I didn't make it to 4 this morning and I have class in 3 hours. I need all the sleep that I can get." He flops on his bed and grabs at a half empty bottle of water.
"You're really burning the candle at both ends." I comment.
"We can't all be lucky like you and get role after role right out of highschool," he grumbles. I shrug.
"Perks of investing in high quality hair care." I smile at him. "Besides, its not like they were huge paydays. I'm making just enough to get by."
"Didn't you just get a role for a series on Netflix?"
"Yes, and that is what I need to talk to you about. Filming takes place in Brooklyn."
". . . Oakland?"
"New York."
"Wow…"
"Yea, I leave on Friday. I know it's short notice. I can give you some money upfront to cover half the rent and bills for 2 months. But you might need to find a roommate for a few months."
"How long will you be gone?"
"6 months minimum, 8 at the most."
"And all of that time will be in New York?"
"Yup."
"What if you run into-"
"I'm sure I won't."
"But you have to consider the possibility-"
"No, I don't think that I do."
"Come on Beck…It's pretty likely that you will." I sigh.
"You know what, I really don't feel like talking about this." I make my way out of his room.
"Where are you going?" Robbie calls behind me.
"To my room. To pack."
"Come by the Bar today around 10. I'll treat you to a meal and drinks before my shift."
I give him a thumbs up without turning around. I enter my room and close the door and sit on my bed, pushing my hair back from my face. I let out a deep sigh.
It was a thought that had of course crossed my mind. But it's not something that I like to dwell on. Yes, there is a very good chance that I could see them. But New York is a big place, full of millions of people. I would have to go out of my way in order to see them. It's not something that I plan on doing.
I won't do it.
I can't.
.
.
.
"A toast! To you having an amazing amount of success and becoming a household name!" Robbie cheers as he thrust his glass full of hard seltzer in the air. Several other glasses clink against his. I raise my glass of beer a few inches before taking a swig. The crowd at the table dissolves in congratulatory remarks, and questions about how I'm feeling and ect. I don't really feel like engaging.
I make eye contact with Robbie as one of the waitresses flirt with him. She is pretty, short brown hair, blue eyes and ample cleavage to help her earn tips. I think I remember her name being Sarah. She's been liking Robbie ever since she saw his stand up routine. I mean, he's really funny, and I have seen first hand how being funny equates to attraction for men. However, Sarah is barking up the wrong tree. Robbie only has eyes for one girl in particular and she's currently on a small tour, opening up for Ginger Fox.
He catches my eyes and raises an eyebrow. I signal that I'm heading outside and he says something to Sarah and she makes a pouty look. I smile and shake my head as I get up and take my beer to the patio area. A few moments later, Robbie is next to me.
"Hey, is this a little much? I know you're not one for large get togethers, but you kind of have a following down here."
"I'm not the only one." I give him a knowing look.
"You mean Sarah? Nah, she's just nice."
"I'm sure that she is."
"It doesn't matter anyways, I have Cat and she'll be back in a few weeks. Besides, I know that she has a thing for you too. I mean, who doesn't."
"You know I'm not really looking for anything like that. I'm just focusing on my career." I take a sip of my beer, looking out at nothing in particular.
"Yea…I know…" He doesn't say the thing that lingers in between us. The fact that I hadn't really dated anyone since Jade.
Fuck.
I have been trying hard as fuck not to think about her.
Her dark hair with streaks of color in it. Her full, pouty lips. Her devastatingly beautiful blue-green eyes that forever held a secret behind them. The feel of her impossibly soft body beneath my hands.
FUCK. Fuck. Fuckity fuck.
I down the rest of my beer in one massive gulp.
"Come on, it's a celebration right?" I put my arm around Robbie and gave him a noogie. "Let's turn up and make some bad decisions!"
"Alright, alright!" He laughs and leads me back inside.
.
.
.
2 hours later
I'm drunkenly exploring the body of some woman, who's name I don't remember. She's making lots of mewling sounds, and is breathing heavily. She fumbles with the belt buckle of my pants as I remove her shirt and bra with ease.
"I have had my eyes on you for a few weeks now," she giggles out. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. I really don't want her to speak.
Hers isn't the voice that I want to hear.
Finally, she gets my pants undone and pulls them down. I reach down and pull down her skirt to find that she isn't wearing any underwear. Okay, I have to make sure that I am wrapped up for this.
I stick a few fingers inside her, and feel her writhe around while I use my other hand to fish around the nightstand for a condom. She's already plenty wet, which is great for me. I feel that I am sobering up more and more. This is seeming like a terrible decision.
I tear open the condom with my teeth and slide it on with ease. It's not long before I'm entering her, trying to finish but it's not really working for me. Her body is wrong, her scent is off. Her cries of passion sound foreign in my ears.
I close my eyes and envision pale, creamy white skin with a soft touch. Smelling of fresh irish springs and clean linens. I think of tangling my fingers in long black hair, and blue green eyes, staring up at me, daring me to go further and harder.
I can faintly hear the ghost of her voice, saying my name over and over, urging me until I climax.
Fuck.
Turns out there's really no cure for being in love with Jade West. No matter how many years that has gone by, she is still lodged painfully in my heart.
I climb off the woman and make my way to the bathroom. She is saying something to me but I don't care to hear it. I grab my phone and open Instagram. I type in Andre's name and I see images of him on tour. His last two shows are in Maine and New York. There is a really good chance that I will run into him.
Maybe I should.
Running into will remind me exactly why Jade and I didn't work out. Why we broke up for good.
I feel the faint memory of the worst heartbreak that I had ever experienced. I feel a small whirlwind of emotions, anger being the strongest and the longer lasting one.
I hate Jade West. I hate Jade West.
I hate Jade West.
