End Scene

CHAPTER ONE

2006

“Jonah. Yo, Jonah, wake up.”

I opened my eyes with a start. “What?”

Nick was a blur as my eyes adjusted to the light. “I’ve heard you talking in your sleep before, but this was a full-on monologue.”

I closed my eyes and rubbed my damp face, my heart gradually settling down. “Sorry.”

“You said some weird things.”

“Let it go, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

I cracked open my eyes when he shifted on the bed before rising to his feet.

“You can go back to sleep,” I said, hating feeling embarrassed by something I couldn’t control.

Nick turned around, his bare chest covered in shadows from the blinds. Even fresh out of bed, he still looked handsome and very young. “I better get back home to go over my lines.”

I stretched my stiff body. “You know them better than whoever wrote them.”

He snickered as he started to dress. “Thanks for going over them with me. I was okay, right?”

It felt strange being asked about anything acting-related, but I tried not to overthink it. “You were great. Just remember to enjoy the audition; they can sense if you’re not having a good time.”

“Enjoy it? Unlikely.” He sighed dramatically. “Greg from my acting class already snagged a shitty pilot, and Sarah did two tampon commercials. Two! This audition could be my big break.”

The hope in his voice pulled me back fifteen years to the early 1990s, when it was me who relentlessly pursued my big break. At one point, I had been naive enough to believe I had found it.

I shook my head to derail the memory train. “Want a sandwich for the road?”

“Jonah Carter, are you spoiling me?”

“It’s just a sandwich.”

“Empty carbs is what it is!” He hurried out of the room as if I’d offered him poison.

I exhaled and glanced at the clock next to my bed, my stomach churning at the sight of the date. Two more days. It felt like a ticking bomb, though I wished it would detonate already, because the waiting was its own torture.

I got dressed and stepped into the living room, wincing against the sunlight.

“I’m making myself a sandwich,” Nick said from the kitchen area with his back to me, his blond hair messy.

I crossed my arms. “What about the carbs?”

“Are you calling me fat?”

I didn’t bite.

“You have plans today?” he asked.

“I’ll head over to the studio soon.”

“Really? On the Lord’s Day?”

“The Lord is welcome to pay my bills.”

“Come on, you can’t be that broke.”

I took a breath to compose myself, but his words stung.

Nick quickly turned around, blushing. “Shit, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sure you’re not broke.”

I glanced at the hefty sandwich in his hands. “I can afford more bread if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Still blushing, he said, “I’ll cook something nice for us next time. I can get stuff from the organic store next to my apartment.”

That sounded too much like a date, but I was groggy enough to say, “Sounds cool.”

He finished making his sandwich, then turned and watched me like he had something to add.

“What is it?”

“Those things you said in your sleep.”

I drew a breath, digging my nails into my palms. He didn’t know the minefield he was treading on.

“Was it a memory? You talked about cameras, and—”

“Nick, I don’t remember. It was just a bad dream.”

“Sure, yeah. Sorry.”

He left shortly after in his nice car, raising a trail of dust as he drove down the dirt road from my house.

In the distance, LA’s outskirts were a faraway picture, the sun rising in the cloudless sky. I couldn’t see the city’s skyscrapers from out here, but I could picture them perfectly.

The city of dreams.

And my downfall.

*

The drive down the mountain was the usual bumpy hell, but that was on me for choosing to live in the middle of nowhere. Back in the day, there were plans to turn this mountain into a thriving neighborhood, but the topography had ended up being too challenging. Other than my small house, there were only a handful of others scattered across the mountain, but I didn’t know anyone.

Once on a paved road, I headed toward my studio in Anaheim. This being the Lord’s Day and relatively early, the drive only took thirty minutes. I parked in front of the old industrial building that had been my second home for the last eight years. New buildings kept popping up around the area, replacing what wasn’t chic enough to remain standing.

The first floor of the building was occupied by unknown bands, while the upper two floors were used by less noisy artists. I climbed the stairs instead of using the creaking elevator, enjoying the rare Sunday’s silence. My studio was at the end of the long hallway on the third and top floor, with a picturesque view of the parking lot.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

“Meow to you too, Jenny.”

I put my bag on the counter and went to kiss Jenny’s cheek. Her ginger hair was tied in a long ponytail with too many hairpins that served no purpose. She seemed to be giving the final touches to her painting, thankfully of a meadow instead of another one of cats.

“You’re not usually here on the weekends,” I said.

“I couldn’t get anyone to join me for an early breakfast, so I might as well be productive. How about you, hon? Gonna finish your latest and greatest today?”

I crossed my arms and examined my messy side of the studio. The three-foot sculpture gleamed under the sunlight streaming through the tall window. I had used copper this time, sprinkling shards of glass here and there.

“I don’t know if today’s the day,” I sighed. “This one’s giving me problems.”

“Is your buyer willing to wait?”

“Yeah, she’s cool with that.” I went over to my side of the studio. Our joint space was large enough to give Jenny and me plenty of room to get lost in our work. I paced around the sculpture. The copper woman stood with one hand resting on her curvy hip. I was satisfied with her posture, which left her missing face the greatest challenge. A facial expression was always a challenge, but I couldn’t even decide on the right vibe.

“Just put a bag over her head!” Jenny called during my pacing.

“Like you do with your dates?”

She laughed. “Honey, at my age, I’m excited if they have a full set of teeth!”

In the end, I gave up on the copper woman for now and used the time to lay the groundwork for my next few projects.

Jenny stopped me at noon with Chinese food. She was usually the one paying since money wasn’t tight for her after her third husband passed away last year. The previous two were still alive but divorcing them had landed her a nice settlement. She didn’t have children, and at fifty-five, she was more active than women half her age. It was pure luck I’d found her ad about sharing a workspace. The studio I’d rented before was a dump. I fell in love with this new space the second I stepped inside, with Jenny being the cherry on top.

My phone rang while we ate on our tattered couch. I put down the box of noodles and went to pick up the call, surprised to see Nick’s number. We weren’t the calling-each-other-to-say-hello kind of fling. I had only slept with him six times, which was the same number of times I’d seen him in my life.

“Hi, Nick.”

“Howdy, handsome. You’re working?”

“Eating now, but I’m in the studio.”

“Cool cool. Just wanted to let you know that they’ve canceled my audition. Turns out they sent an email about it two days ago, but I missed it. All those lines I read were for nothing!”

“That’s a bummer. Didn’t Agatha update you?”

“Nope. I’m sure she was nicer to you.”

Talking about my former agent made me agitated. I hadn’t spoken to her in years—not since I returned to LA and she showed me the door. She happened to be Nick’s agent as well, but LA was smaller than people thought.

“Try not to take her personally,” I said diplomatically.

“Yeah, I know. Anyway, I’m going out with a friend tonight to drown my sorrow. I met him a couple of weeks ago, and he’s taking me out—his treat. Older guys are the best.”

“Thanks.”

“You are not old, Jonah Carter! We look the same age, and I'm pretty sure you’re drinking unicorn blood.”

I smiled despite myself. I had recently turned thirty-six, which meant an eleven-year difference between us—another reason why I didn’t see a future for us.

“Have fun tonight,” I said.

“Well, I was hoping to keep most of the fun for later, at your place.”

I was about to say I didn’t have plans, but I stopped myself in time. Seeing Nick again so soon would move us further down a path I didn’t want to travel, especially with how things had ended with Hayden.

“Nick, I’m busy tonight.”

“Oh, that’s cool. Another night, then.”

“Let me call you, okay?”

I could almost feel Jenny rolling her eyes behind me.

Nick snorted. “Classy, Jonah. I can take the hint.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. I’d been straightforward with him from the start, but I could see how he might’ve gotten the wrong idea over time.

“I just need a few days.”

“Yeah, sure. No big deal.” For an actor, he wasn’t great at masking his feelings.

“Have fun tonight,” I said. “There will be other auditions.”

“There better be. Did I tell you that Sarah got two commercials?”

“You might have mentioned it.”

“Okay. I’m going to drink till I’m in a coma.”

“You do that.” I hung up and slumped on the couch.

“Was that the kid you’ve been seeing?” Jenny asked.

“We just hooked up a few times.”

“You’re going to see him again?”

“Maybe.”

“You are allowed to have more than one relationship a decade, you know.”

“Noted.”

“Oh, before I forget. I have people coming over on Wednesday to be amazed by my work. It can be a good opportunity for you to show off some of your beauties.”

I nodded. “Sounds great. Oh, wait.” My stomach flipped. Wednesday was the day after the yearly visit. I couldn’t commit to anything right after. “I can’t on Wednesday. I’ll be taking a few days off this week.”

She eyed me suspiciously.

“It’s a family thing.”

“You don’t do family things, but I won’t pry.”

She knew me too well, but her memory wasn’t the best, or she might have remembered I’d been taking days off every year at the same time since we met. I got up and wiped my hands on my dirty pants.

“Thanks for the food.”

“Sure thing, hon.”

She left shortly after, and even though she never bothered me, I could focus better in my private realm. I slid my Prodigy CD into the stereo system and lost myself in the bending and reshaping of iron and copper. I should have spent some time making jewelry for my eBay store, but I wasn’t in the mood for brain-numbing work.

The sun had begun to descend when a casual glance at my copper woman made me freeze. Will it work? I hurried to grab a new piece of flat copper and shove it into the oven. With it boiling and softer, I carefully bent the edges to form a round, smooth shape.

Once it cooled, I carefully attached it to the woman’s neck with a soldering iron, then took a few steps back. My copper woman stared back at me through her smooth, featureless head, all hips, curves, and attitude. Under the setting sun, she was a majestic goddess—face or no face.

Content, I locked the studio and drove back to my mountain.

*

The following evening, I decided to call Nick to apologize. Even though I never sold him false promises, I had allowed things to get further than I’d planned, which could make anyone confused. I also liked spending time with him, and I wasn’t exactly drowning in friends; Jenny pretty much filled that role.

I stood about seventy feet from my house, on a ledge that could be dangerous if you didn’t mind your steps. I waited a few seconds for the reception gods to bless my phone, then dialed Nick’s number, immediately going to voicemail.

“This is Nick. Leave a message, and I’ll try to get back to you before I’m too big of a star to answer my calls.”

I snickered and decided to leave a message. “Hi, Nick. I wasn’t trying to be an ass yesterday, and I hope you had fun last night. Let’s talk soon.”

*

I awoke to a headache that threatened to shatter my brain.

Breathe .

But I couldn’t.

My nightmare lingered at the center of my head, clawing at my skull. I sat in bed and held my knees to my chest, trying to use my breathing as a shield, but it was pointless. I needed to call in the cavalry.

Dazed, I stumbled to my bathroom and turned on the light, grimacing as it stung my eyes like a dozen bees. I rummaged through the laundry bag until I found the small metal box at the bottom. I never used to hide it until Hayden started staying over, and the habit stuck even after he exited my life like a passing storm.

I slumped on the floor and opened the box with trembling fingers, then took out a sealed needle and carefully unwrapped it. I bit down on my lower lip and stuck the needle into my arm. The sharp pain was quickly replaced by a sense of relief, flowing through me like a wave. I let out a long moan, my head resting against the wall.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

With my skull feeling less shattered, I slowly opened my eyes. A thin river of blood slid down my pale skin. I carefully pulled the needle out, then stuck it again closer to my shoulder.

That hit the spot.

I stayed on the floor, trying not to feel sorry for myself. I had tried to take painkillers before, but they took too long to work.

Finally stable enough to stand, I pulled the needle out and threw it in the trash. After washing the blood, I stumbled back into bed.

*

The approaching car broke through the silence of my house. I had been sitting on my couch for the last two hours, staring at the wall. I opened the door as the BMW parked next to my old Volvo. There wasn’t enough light to see the driver, so I held my breath until a muscular black man climbed out, his bald head gleaming in the moonlight. I recognized Samuel from the previous two years, feeling relieved since I had had to deal with far worse than him.

“Good evening.” He climbed up the creaking wooden stairs, dragging a thick suitcase and holding a leather bag. His six-foot frame towered over my five-eight.

I moved out of his way and shut the door behind him.

“You have something to drink?” he asked and dumped his gear on the floor. “I forgot you live in a shithole.” He flashed a white-toothed smile. “No offense.”

“What do you want to drink?”

“Beer.”

I went to bring him a can of Budweiser. He cranked it open and took a mouthful. “You’ve cut your hair.”

I shrugged. “I wanted a change.”

“Cool. Help me with the cameras.”

I tried to stay away from any sort of recording equipment, but it felt appropriate to do so now. I took the cameras he handed me and spread them around the living room. In 2006, video cameras were more compact than they had been in the early ‘90s.

Once we got everything sorted and connected, Samuel sat on the couch with his laptop on his lap. I stood with my arms crossed, trying to keep my foot from tapping on the floor.

“You still do art,” Samuel said, eyeing the sculptures on my shelves.

“It’s my job.”

“Does it pay well?”

“Rarely, but I don’t spend much.” I was also lucky to have a few regular clients who I’d never personally met but appreciated my art enough to buy it.

“Let me check your leg.”

I approached Samuel and placed my right foot on the couch next to him, pulling up my pant leg. He leaned to pick up a scanner from his bag, then connected it with a cable to the laptop. After clicking on his keyboard, he pressed the cold scanner to the side of my calf.

I used to have an older tracker inserted underneath my skin, but they had reached out to me four years ago with instructions to go to a motel in Santa Monica. There, a masked man told me it was time to upgrade my tracker. He gave me full anesthesia, and when I woke up hours later, I was alone with my leg bandaged, blood on the sheet.

“Seems fine,” Samuel said, putting the scanner back in his bag. “I’m good to start. If you need to use the toilet, now’s the time.”

I went to pee. As I washed my hands, I stared at my reflection in the mirror, looking paler than usual. Despite my dread, I was relieved to almost be past it. A year of anticipation was coming to a close. Again.

Back in the living room, both the couch and the table had been moved to make enough room. Samuel stood shirtless, his body smooth and muscular. I went to stand at the center of the room, four cameras surrounding me.

Samuel checked his laptop one more time, then clapped his hands. “Okay, let’s get started.”

*

“My name is Jonah Carter. The date is June first, two thousand and six. It has been fourteen years since you let me go. I’m still yours.”

I removed my clothes and turned around a few times, the cameras capturing my every movement. When I returned to face the front, Samuel had already put on his black leather mask. He came to stand in front of me, seeming taller than before.

With my pulse increasing, I reminded myself that I had chosen this. In the grand scheme of things, wasn’t I the lucky one?

Samuel’s fist collided with my stomach, the pain piercing through me. He would stay clear of my face, but everything else was fair game. The next punch hit my ribs. I sank to my hands and knees, the room spinning and my ears ringing like church bells. He moved to stand beside me, lifting his leg for a kick.

Are you seeing this? Is this good enough for you?

Until I finally passed out, my whole world was pain.