Chapter 17 #2
His face is close to mine. It’s loud in here, and he’s been drinking. I’m not sure how much he had before I got here, but he’s looking at me in that way Harvey didn’t like. And if Harvey were here, he’d probably be dragging me away from Brad and punching him in the face.
I say, “I’ll have one more drink, Chad.”
“What?” He laughs just as the two women return. Jen sits beside me, placing her hand on my thigh. “So. Tell me. What’s Austin Rivers really like?”
I give her a weak smile. “I have no idea.”
When I wake up in the morning with a splitting headache, a dry mouth, and on my sofa, there are a few seconds when it feels like Harvey is here in my home. But when I sit up on my elbows, dizzy and sick, I don’t see anyone. He’s not here. He was never here.
I’d said one more drink last night, but it ended up being two more.
The last time I drank that much was way before rehab.
My tolerance is low. I lie back on the sofa and close my eyes.
I was out with Brad. That’s what happened.
And a couple of women. I don’t think, or I don’t remember, doing anything crazy or stupid.
And… Harvey was… where? Out with George Wilkins again? With Steve?
I sit up slowly and look at the clock. It’s a little after eight, and I have a ten o’clock call time. When I get up to my bedroom. I put my telephone on my lap and dial Harvey’s number. After about three rings, a little girl answers.
“Hello?”
“Hi, um, can I speak to Harvey?”
There’s a pause. “Who is this?”
“Uh, a friend.”
“What kind of a friend?” she says, sounding annoyed.
“Um… what?”
I hear her put the phone down and yell for Harvey. Seconds tick by before I hear her voice again. “He can’t come to the phone right now.”
“Oh. Will you tell him, I mean, can you give him a message for me?”
“I guess so.”
“Can you tell him, um… can you just tell him Austin called?”
“Okay.”
I start to say thanks, but she’s already hung up.
I take my time getting ready and keep an ear out for the phone, hoping he calls me right back, but he doesn’t.
I wait until the last second to leave, not wanting to miss his call, but there is no call.
I go to the studio and into my dressing room where I ask a PA to get me some mineral water and aspirin.
The PA tells me the first scene we’re shooting will just be Brad, Marlee, and some extras, so I can rest for a bit if I want. That’s exactly what I do, or try to do. There’s a knock, and when I ask who it is, it’s Brad.
“I thought you had a scene with Marlee,” I say to him when he peeks his head in.
“Devin is having them fix a couple of the lights,” he says, stepping inside even though I didn’t invite him. “Feeling okay this morning?”
I shrug and take a sip of water. “The aspirin hasn’t kicked in yet.”
He laughs. “I had a rough morning too.”
He looks bright and chipper to me. “You did?”
“I get up at six to go to the health spa. It helps.”
“Okay.”
He keeps lingering, and I get ready to ask him what he wants when someone comes to get him.
If Harvey knew how many times Brad has been in my dressing room, Brad would be a dead man.
I smile a little, then it fades. If Harvey even still cares.
I try not to think about it because it makes my stomach hurt.
The day drags by and when I’m finally home, I pick up the phone to call Harvey again, but before I’ve got all the numbers dialed, there’s a slow knock at my front door.
When I open it, Harvey is standing there. I have never been so happy to see his face.
“You’re here,” I say, not caring if I sound giddy. “I was worried about you.”
I expect him to walk inside, call me Hollywood or angel, and start to undress me. Instead, he just nods and stands there. There’s something off about the expression on his face.
“Don’t you want to come in?” I step aside. The way he hesitates makes the happiness I just felt dissolve. He does step inside, though, and I shut the door.
“Are you okay?” I ask him. “I haven’t heard from you. I’ve been calling.”
“I know. Been busy.” His tone is clipped. Almost strained.
I go over to the sofa, expecting him to follow me, but he stands in the entryway.
“I can’t stay long,” he says in that same clipped tone.
“Why not?”
He hangs his head then. “Sorry,” he says softly. “I’m sorry.”
“For what? Seriously, is everything okay?” Dread blooms in the pit of my stomach. “Did something happen with your dad? You didn’t get into another wreck, did you?”
“No. I’m okay. Everybody’s okay. Nothing happened.”
I don’t believe him at all. “Then why are you acting like this?”
He gets quiet, and when he does look at me, I can tell. Something’s wrong. Bad wrong. My stomach is in knots.
“Harvey.”
“I’ve been thinking.” His voice sounds hoarse and thick. “We shouldn’t see each other anymore.”
My house suddenly feels too small. “What?”
“It’s not working out. You have your career. You should focus on that.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I gesture to the sofa. “Can we sit down and talk?”
He shakes his head and looks away from me again.
“I don’t understand. Did something happen?” I pause there and try to swallow down my next words, but they come out anyway. “Did you meet somebody else?”
“No,” he says emphatically. “It’s not that. I swear it’s not that.”
“Well, what then?” I move toward him, but he backs toward the door.
“I just want you to be happy,” he says.
My head is spinning, and I might vomit. “What’s wrong with you? You were just here a couple of days ago. Everything was fine.”
He shrugs again. He’s got no answer for that. He stands there with his hands on his hips, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. He can’t even look at me. He’s dead fucking serious.
I go stand in front of him. He backs away, trying to put distance between us, but I get him up against the wall.
“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want to be with me anymore,” I whisper.
He looks down. “Please don’t make this harder, Austin.”
“Look at me.” I whisper.
He won’t.
“You’re not serious, then,” I say. “If you won’t look at me then you’re not serious.”
He gives me a weak glance right then but quickly looks away. “I’m sorry. This is just how it has to be.”
This feels like a nightmare. And the fact that I know there’s something else going on and he’s refusing to say makes me want to grab him and shake it out of him.
I mask my hurt with anger. “Get out of here then.”
He looks at me sheepishly again.
“Get out,” I demand.
“I’m sorry, Austin.” He comes toward me a little like he might hug me. “I’m sorry.”
“Get out of here!”
He goes to the door and turns to look at me one more time before he closes it behind him.
I stand in the entryway, staring at the closed door for a few minutes, hoping it’ll open again and he’ll come back and say he didn’t mean a single word, and I’ll say I didn’t either, and everything will be like it was before.
But he doesn’t come back.
I wish it was yesterday. I wish it was this morning. I wish it was anytime but now.
Because he’s gone.
Just… gone.
“We just got a call. Double homicide on 4th Street. The gunman is on the loose.”
I open my mouth to respond to Marlee. “Uh… where’s the… um…”
Marlee shakes her head, crossing her arms.
“Cut!” Devin hollers.
“I’m sorry.” I remove my police cap. “It won’t happen again.”
“Damn right.” Devin gets up from his chair and approaches me. “Are you sick? If you’re coming down with something, we can focus on Brad’s scenes today.”
It’s a good excuse to grab onto since Devin’s been annoyed with me, but I shake my head.
He looks at his watch. “We can wrap for the day. We’ll pick this up tomorrow when everybody’s fresh.” He claps his hands and yells to the crew.
I walk off the set to my dressing room. I’ve been fucking up my lines left and right. I keep telling myself that Austin’s problems aren’t Todd’s problems. Put on that mask. But Austin’s never had these kinds of problems before.
It feels like I’m falling apart. Like pieces of me will drop off in a macabre breadcrumb trail into the horizon.
Someone will find my arm outside of my dressing room.
My foot out in the lot. Can’t atoms just split apart?
Isn’t that a nuclear bomb? Or spontaneous combustion?
Margie would know. She started her classes.
I could call her up later and ask. If I haven’t had too much whiskey and remember.
It’s my only vice. Twice now, I’ve called up Steve to get coke, but I chicken out and hang up.
I went over to Bonnie and Floyd’s for dinner and went through the medicine cabinet only to find pain killers and Floyd’s heartburn medication.
I just want to feel numb. I don’t want to feel anything at all.
I’m back in my street clothes and ready to go when there’s a knock at the door. I open it to Brad dressed in his street clothes.
“Hey.” I let him in and look for my car keys.
He leans against the wall. “You look like you could use a drink.”
Part of me wants to go home and be alone, but I’ve been doing that every night since Harvey broke things off between us.
And when I’m alone and drunk, I do stupid things.
Like call his house at three a.m. or read the phone book because I heard somewhere that’s how you forget about someone.
One night, I got the bright idea to drive through Bel Air and honk my horn to see which house he’d walk out of, but I passed out on my bedroom floor putting on my pants before I could.
I don’t know what I would have done if I did see him. Smacked him. Kissed him. Fucked him. All three, maybe.
I glance over at Brad. “I guess I could.”
He grins. “I’m buying.”
We meet at The Roxy where we enter in through the back because Brad knows a guy. That same guy takes us to a corner booth like they were just waiting on him to show up.
“You know a lot of people, don’t you?” I say as we sit down.
“Don’t you?”
A waiter shows up with two drinks before I’ve even ordered one.
I look down at the whiskey, puzzled. “How did you know?”