7. Ben
7
Ben
I know I shouldn't ask this of you, but please be patient with me. Please keep talking to me.
I have my reasons for needing to move slowly. And those reasons have nothing to do with you or my feelings for you.
As a sign of good faith, here are some things about me.
My favorite cheat meal is spaghetti carbonara.
My favorite color is light blue.
I love to cook, but I don’t have much time to devote to it anymore.
I’m reading The Prince of Tides by Pat Conroy. Really good, BTW. What are you reading?
I love to salt water fly-fish.
On my next vacation, I’d love to go to Italy or the Bahamas.
If I could live anywhere, I'd love to live on a ranch in Montana.
A fter our conversation last night ended awkwardly, I want to reassure Carlisle that I’d like to continue getting to know her—as long as she’s agreeable to the terms I laid out. Phone calls and texting only. Kind of like a modern-day pen pal.
To reassure her that I’m not blowing her off, I woke up early and called her first thing this morning, hoping to catch her before she went to work, but she didn’t answer. When I didn’t hear back from her, I also called her mid-morning. Again, no answer, no call back. So, I did what any pathetic, desperate guy would do, and I started sending texts.
Text after embarrassing text.
I want to prove to her that I’m letting her into my life, albeit slowly. But she has yet to reply, and I hope that this isn’t the end of us already.
Not that there is an us at this point.
I’m currently working out in my home gym again with Trevor, who has gotten onto me several times because of my lack of focus during the workout. For my role as Captain Commander , I had to bulk up and the studio hired Trevor to be my personal trainer. Even after filming finished, I keep seeing him because he’s turned into a close friend, and because he gets my ass in gear.
“Thirty more seconds. Push through the pain. Keep going,” Trevor yells, as I flip a huge tire across the length of the gym floor for the fifth time. “Harder, Ben, harder.”
“That’s what she said,” my buddy Jordan chirps from his perch on the elliptical .
“Unless you want to get out here and move this tire, shut the fuck up, Jordan,” I grumble, sweat dripping down my forehead and into my eyes. “Why are you here anyway? Shouldn’t you be at work?”
“And miss a free private personal training session? No way. I took a late lunch.”
“You know it’s only free because I’m paying for it, right?”
“Duh,” he smirks.
I met Jordan my second year in LA when he was a production assistant on an indie film I starred in. I wasn’t sure what to think of him at first, but he slowly grew on me. He’s like a pesky, yet lovable and loyal, younger brother to me now. He's not actually younger than me, he just acts like he is.
“C’mon Ben, tell us who she is?”
In the middle of a set of side planks, my balance sways at Jordan’s sudden question. What the hell does Jordan know?
“I thought we were going to ignore the elephant in the room, but now that Jordan’s opened it up for discussion, I want to know too.” Trevor says, watching me intensely. “Who has you so distracted?”
“And grumpy.” Jordan shoots Trevor a quick grin, “Loverboy must not be getting laid. Benny Boy, is she playing hard to get?”
“What are you talking about?” I feign ignorance, but it’s apparent that they’ve noticed how often I’m checking my phone. When I finish my set, I stand up and grab a towel to wipe my face. “I’m not distracted.”
Trevor purses his lips, but wisely remains quiet.
Jordan doesn’t follow his lead and continues needling me. “Nope, not buying it. Someone has your panties in a twist. Who is she?”
"There is no girl."
"So, it's a dude?" Jordan frowns in disbelief. "Wow, never saw that coming. Totes thought you were hetero, bruh. "
"I am, you dumbass."
"Knew it!" Jordan grins, like he's uncovered the nuclear launch codes or something.
I roll my eyes.
“Run 10 minutes at 5.5 on the treadmill and then we’ll start your cool down.” Trevor saves me and I shoot him a look of gratitude. He nods in return and starts packing up his bag to head to his next client’s house.
I’m thankful for Trevor’s willingness to act as a buffer. But if Jordan’s noticed a change in me, then it’s only a matter of time before others will too. I need to get my head on straight and figure out what to do about Carlisle.
It’s time to shit or get off the pot, as my dad would say.
My phone, which I discarded on the weight bench when I started running, lights up from an incoming text. Unfortunately, Jordan notices it too. Before I can safely jump off the treadmill, Jordan pounces and grabs ahold of my phone.
For the first time all day, I hope it isn’t Carlisle returning my texts. Please let it be Jada texting me about our meeting this afternoon.
No such luck.
“Oh, Benny Boy, you little liar.” Jordan replies with a big smirk spanning his face. “No girl, my ass. Explain yourself.”
Admitting defeat, I end my work out early and hop off the treadmill. “It’s no big deal. Just a girl I’ve been talking to over the past couple of weeks.”
I hope by keeping my explanation brief they’ll let it slide, but my hopes are in vain as Trevor and Jordan immediately barrage me with questions and comments.
“How’d you meet her?”
“Did you swipe right? ”
“Dude, he’s not on Tinder, you ignorant dickhead."
"I know. He’s gotta be on Raya. Right, Ben?”
“Regardless, good for you. It’s time to get out there again since Kelsey.”
“Fucking Kelsey.”
“Forget Kelsey. Let's focus on you and the new girl. Is she hot?”
“Better question: Does she have hot friends?”
Laughing, I snap my towel at them. “Shut up. You’re worse than high school girls.”
But then I get my wish. Jordan twirls my phone between his fingers and both he and Trevor remain silent, waiting for me to speak. It’s the same tactic my therapist uses to get me to talk, and it works.
Taking a seat on my yoga mat, I stretch as I talk so my muscles don’t tighten up—and so I don’t have to make eye contact with them. I know trying to explain the situation with Carlisle is going to sound absurd and they’re going to give me shit.
So much shit.
“Let me get this straight. You’ve never met her or even seen a picture of her? And she has no idea who you are?” Trevor's voice is laced in skepticism.
“What the hell, Sutton? You could land any woman aged 18-40 in the greater LA area, but you're pursuing some chick you’ve never met? Someone you called accidentally and then struck up a conversation with?” Jordan stops twirling my cell phone to stare at me. “Please tell me this is a joke or some kind of weird-ass research for your next film.”
“I'm aware it's an unusual way to meet someone, but I like her. She’s snarky and funny. She calls me on my bullshit, but she’s kind too.” I blow out a long breath. Sitting up, I bring my knees to my chest and loop my arms around them. “If I meet a girl now, they see the movie star, not the man. They want to date me to further their own agendas, not because they actually like me. Those easier days of dating women before I was famous, where it was obvious if a woman was genuinely interested in me, are long gone. But getting to know Carlisle in this fucked up, random way has given me back that opportunity.”
“It sounds complicated,” comments Trevor. He’s not wrong.
“What’s your next step, Ben?” Concern is painted on Jordan’s face.
Jordan and Jo were the ones who witnessed the demise of my relationship with Kelsey and who helped me pick up the pieces of my life after her betrayal. It’s only natural that he’d worry about me jumping into a new relationship in such an unconventional way.
Reassuring him, I explain, "There's not really a next step. According to Becky and Jada, I can't date anyone now anyway, so Carlisle and I will remain phone friends. Nothing more."
Jordan holds up his hand. “Wait a minute. You know her full name. Have you looked her up on social media?”
“Nah, man, I haven’t yet.” I’ve thought about it— a lot —but I hadn’t done it yet.
“Why the fuck not? Dude, Ben, you’ve got to,” Jordan implores me.
What if I stumble upon something that ruins it for me?
Sighing, I pull the towel over my head and lie down on the yoga mat. “I don’t know. I’ll think about it.” Peeking out from under the towel, I say, “It might depend on her response to my earlier texts. What’d she say? Can I have my phone back?”
“Oh, about that. Jo’s going to order a salad for lunch. She wants to know if you want anything.”
At least Jordan has the decency to look sheepish when he tosses my phone to me.
“Asshole,” I reply, chuckling. But then it hits me that Carlisle still hasn’t responded to me, and my laughter dies .
Understanding my sudden mood shift, Trevor pats me on the shoulder and wishes me luck before he heads out. He pauses in the gym doorway and turns to face me, leveling me with a steely gaze. “Look up her socials, Ben. And if you like what you find, you might want to rethink not meeting her. If you really have a connection with her, don’t waste it. Who cares what Jada and Becky say? You could always take it slowly and keep things on the down low until after your publicity tours wrap.”
“Trevor’s right, man." Jordan sighs, looking unnaturally serious. "You can’t let your fear stop you either. You can’t refuse to live because you got hurt in the past.”
I stiffen upon hearing Jordan’s words. My first instinct is to deny the validity of his statements, but I recognize I’m uncomfortable because his words are right on target.
I may blame my hesitation on my career, but my real hesitation is that I 'm afraid of getting hurt again.
Kelsey hurt me in the worst ways possible, and the hardest part of our breakup is that I can’t completely cut her out of my life. On the rare occasions that I see Kelsey, it resurrects all the feelings I've ignored, and I’m forced to act like her duplicity didn’t break my heart into a million pieces and forever alter my life. To combat the mix of emotions I feel when I see her, I’ve erected strong boundaries to protect myself, so that she won’t have an opportunity to hurt me again.
The problem with that defense is that once those barriers are constructed, it’s hard to knock them down for anyone else.
Since we broke up, I haven’t been on a real date. I’ve had one-night stands and been on a few dates set up by my publicist, but they were each clearly identified as such with no hope of it developing into anything else.
But Carlisle makes me want more.
Later that afternoon, I sit in my agent’s fancy new office building admiring the floor-to-ceiling windows with views of the Pacific Ocean while I impatiently wait for Jada to finish up with a phone call. Strumming my fingers on the script that I cradle in my lap, I feel apprehensive.
When I read the script, I fell hard for the role of Martin. Losing Love is the story of a grieving husband whose wife, Elaine, is dying of an incurable disease. It examines the differing ways the couple handle Elaine’s health crisis, specifically the aggressive avenues Martin pursues to prolong Elaine’s life despite her desire to live out her remaining days without medical intervention. Martin loves Elaine so intensely that he can’t fathom life without her. However, as the story unfolds, his motivations spiral selfishly out of control as his need for her to live begins to consume him, burning down everything in his path, including their marriage.
It’s one of those stories that continues to haunt me long after I finished reading it because it left me questioning my own understanding of love and what I would do if I were ever in Martin’s shoes.
If I was lucky enough to love someone as much as Martin loved Elaine, how far I would go to be with her?
And why do I automatically think of Carlisle when contemplating that question?
“Sorry about the hold up, Ben,” Jada apologizes after returning her office phone's receiver to its cradle. “Jo finally got you to read the Losing Love script, huh?” she says, as she leans back in her chair, assessing my posture. “I could tell from your email that you’re interested.”
“You were right. This is my next movie, Jada,” I emphasize my words by pointing at the script in my lap. “Do whatever it takes to make it happen. Adjust my points, cut my salary. Whatever it takes.”
“I haven’t seen you this excited about a project since you got offered the role in Suspicion .” She eyes me speculatively. “You know I’ll do everything in my power to get you Losing Love , but I’ve heard through the grapevine that the director already has someone in mind for Martin. Nothing has been signed yet though, so we still have time, but we need to tread carefully and quickly.”
I nod, pondering the dilemma. I’ve been working exclusively with Studio 67 for my past six films. They’ve been sending me new scripts for the last several months, confident that I’ll continue working with them. To jump ship now and actively pursue a script with another studio puts me in danger of burning bridges in an industry with long memories and even longer lasting grudges. When Keanu Reeves turned down Speed 2 , he didn’t work with that movie studio again for over a decade.
But I really want this movie, and Studio 67 didn’t win the film rights to Losing Love . It’ll be necessary to cautiously orchestrate moving to another studio, so that I don’t lose favor with Studio 67 completely. Luckily, it's Jada's job to work that out, not mine.
“I’ll do whatever necessary,” I promise. “I want this one, Jada. Badly.”
“Your success in Suspicion and Eye of the Beholder have proven that you have the acting chops to take on dramatic roles, but you still need to prove that your star power is great enough to be a big box office draw. It will help our case if Captain Commander and Truly, Madly, Deeply both perform extraordinarily well next month. ”
“I understand.”
"Do you?" Jada raises her eyebrows. “I’m serious, Ben. I need you to court the press. Interviews, photo shoots, paparazzi pics in tabloids, whatever. I won’t let you turn anything down.” Jada stares at me hard, imprinting the importance of her words. “As Becky says, it’s a domino effect. The more buzz about you, the more buzz about your movies. The more buzz about your movies, the better the bottom line at the box office. The more money your movies make, the more power you wield within the business.”
I want the role in Losing Love more than I’ve wanted one in years, and now with a well-established acting career, I finally have the power to fight for this role. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get it. Even if it means selling a part of myself—my privacy—to land the role.
A short-term sacrifice for a long-term gain.
“If that’s what it will take to land this role, then I’ll agree to additional media coverage.”
“That’s music to my ears, Ben.” She smiles. "Several Lyonsfilms execs will be at my party tonight, so make sure you chat them up and make a good impression."
"Will do," I agree.
"Oh, and Willa is attending tonight too."
"I figured since you represent her too. It'll be good to catch up. Haven't seen her in a while."
When I return home from my meeting with Jada, I check my phone to see if Carlisle texted me back yet. She still hasn’t responded. Her silence hurts more than I expected.
But her silence and withdrawal have made me realize that I’m willing to risk getting hurt in order to explore what I could have with Carlisle. I’m no longer satisfied with keeping her on the periphery of my life .
Trevor's words play on a loop in my brain. If you really have a connection with her, don’t waste it. Who cares what Jada and Becky say? You could always take it slowly and keep things on the down low until after your publicity tours wrap.
Maybe I can have my cake and eat it too.
Maybe I can increase my public presence while dating Carlisle privately.