Chapter 17 #3
“Know what?” He takes a sip of his drink.
I take a sip of mine. “Nothing.” I look around and notice a couple of women staring at us. Brad notices too. He winks at them, and they giggle to each other.
“This should make Phil happy, at least,” Brad says. He nods to the front where they’re letting in a photographer.
“Yeah.” I take another drink.
And it should also make Phil happy that I’m not tainting the image of his precious show. I keep wondering what Harvey is doing each night. Or who he’s doing. My stomach feels cold. I guzzle down my drink.
He’s supposed to be mine. I’m supposed to be his.
Angels. Can’t angels be together forever?
“You’re not really sick, are you?” Brad asks.
“Depends on how you define sick.” I glance over at his puzzled face and give him a weak grin. “I’m fine. Just having an off day.”
“It wasn’t just today, Austin.”
I frown at him “I’ve got a lot going on. It can be distracting.”
Brad shrugs, leaning forward on the table. “I’ve got ears.”
There are a few seconds where I think that I can actually talk to him about this. I haven’t thought of us as friends. I’m not really sure what I’ve thought of us as. But the emotional whiplash of the last six months makes me feel ill. I finish my whiskey and signal for another.
Brad leans closer to me across the table. He whispers, “Does it have anything to do with Harvey Laden?”
My heart kicks into high gear immediately. “What?”
“Just a hunch.”
I know my face must look like a strawberry because he adds, “You don’t have to talk about it, though. If you don’t want to.”
I sit back against the vinyl booth and down half the whiskey when the waiter brings it over. “I don’t know.”
Brad takes a sip of his drink and a few puffs of his cigarette before he says, “It’s tough, isn’t it?”
“What is?”
“Come on.” He smiles. “All the girls? It’s just an act. You know that. It’s what we have to do.”
I stare at him for a moment, slightly surprised. “Right.”
“I don’t know if there’s anything I could do if the network found out. My agent always tells me to keep it private.” He shakes his head. “Phil probably already knows. He’s known you for years, hasn’t he?”
“I’m good at hiding things.”
He studies me for a moment. “So, it is about Harvey, right?”
I look around the place. The two girls who were staring at us are gone. “I don’t know if I can talk to you about this.”
“You don’t have to.” He shrugs. “I have just as much to lose as you do.”
I give him weak smile. “I don’t know about that.”
He finishes his drink. “I used to go to the clubs, the bars, all the time. I can’t now.”
“Why not?”
He frowns at his empty glass. “I’m supposed to be the man every repressed housewife thinks about when she’s sleeping with her husband.
” He shakes his head, an amused smile on his lips.
“It’s very specific. Not too rugged. Not too cute.
If they knew I would prefer their husbands, the fantasy is gone.
And that fantasy is all that some people have.
They get disappointed when it’s shattered.
They’d start changing the channel, stop buying the tickets, the magazines.
” He stares at me for a moment. “I thought, out of anybody, you’d understand. ”
I smile. “It wasn’t easy being The Boy Next Door.”
He laughs. “You made it look easy, though. Very convincing.”
“I do understand. I don’t want to be a fantasy anymore. I want to be recognized. I want someone to say ‘There’s Austin Rivers. He’s great actor.’ I don’t want to be remembered as just a cute little kid.”
Brad gazes at me for a long moment. “Well. Phil did promise we’d be the stars of the show.”
“That’s true.” I glance around the bar again and see more people here than before. I notice a guy in a brown suede jacket going into the men’s room.
A tall man. With surfer-boy hair and a self-assured stride.
My heart leaps in my chest. I stand up. “I’ll be right back.”
I go into the men’s room and see him at the urinal. I hang back, unable to think of a word to say to him. Has he been here the whole time? Did he even see me?
He finishes and goes over to the sink. My leaping heart collapses in my chest.
The guy catches me looking in the mirror. His heavy brows pinch together, and his mouth frowns behind his beard. “You got a problem, buddy?”
I shake my head and quickly go into a stall.
I stand there against the door, listening to the guy leave and the blood rushing in my ears.
I cover my face with my hands. I haven’t been letting myself feel it all the way.
I don’t want to wallow, and I didn’t want it to affect my work.
I hate this pain. How can he cause me this much pain?
I think I’ve always been in love with him.
From the first moment I saw his beautiful face in a magazine.
And knowing now, that he’s just out of my life for good, the very thing I thought I wanted, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to get through this. I don’t know if I can live without him.
I leave the men’s room and the club, get into my car, and recklessly speed back to my house. Once I’m inside the emptiness feels like a cavern, dark and empty.
I'm disoriented when I first open my eyes.
My head is swimming. It takes a few minutes for my eyes to focus and realize I’m lying on the loveseat in my dressing room. I spot a bottle of liquor and a glass on the table.
What day is it?
I’d sit up, but it feels like my head is full of cotton, and I’m worried I’ll barf.
There’s a knock on my dressing room door. “Austin?” It’s Brad’s voice.
I could just pretend I’m not here.
“Austin? Are you in there?”
But my head clears a little, and I remember I owe him an apology.
“Come in,” I say.
He does and looks down at me on the loveseat. “Hey. I was wondering where you were. I called your house last night, but there wasn’t an answer.”
“Sorry.” I try to sit up, but it hurts so I don’t.
Brad notices the bottle and looks at me warily. “Was it something I said?”
“No. Not at all. It was…” I shake my head, searching for an excuse, but I can’t find one. “It was just… I just wanted to go.”
“I see.” He nods slowly. “You need some coffee? You don’t want Phil seeing you like this. He’s going to be on set today.”
“He is? Shit.”
“Let’s get you some coffee. I might be able to stall Devin. Get him to shoot those scenes with Bailey and that detective first.”
“Okay.” I lay a hand over my eyes.
After leaving Brad hanging last night, I don’t really remember much.
I know I got home at some point. I don’t remember coming here at all.
Fuck, I’m a mess. I start thinking about how Canyon, Timber, and Jack would be disappointed in me.
I’d go back there in a second, even in that hot shed, if it meant I could be with Harvey again. Tears fill in my eyes.
A PA brings me some coffee, and I dig through the drawers of my dressing table to find some aspirin.
The PA comes back to tell me they’re not filming any Todd scenes until eleven thirty, which gives me an hour and a half to get myself together.
I decide I shouldn’t be doing anymore drinking for a while. I wonder how long I can stick to that.
I manage to get through my scenes without screwing up too bad with Phil sitting next to Devin.
He doesn’t usually come to the set. He and Arnold typically watch the playbacks later.
I worry Phil is going to notice I’m a little off and be suspicious, but he doesn’t call me into his office.
He seems pleased with everything, actually.
Before we leave after a full day of shooting, Brad comes by my dressing room again.
“I know you might not feel up to it,” he says. “But I’m having a party at my place tonight. Nothing too crazy. Just a few friends.”
I give him a weak smile. “I’ll see. But I’m kind of beat.”
He smiles. “I understand. It’s 2546 Warner in Beverly Hills if you change your mind.”
I thank him, and he leaves.
I do everything I usually do. I get my things, drive home, and walk into an empty house.
I avoid my mini bar and lie down on my sofa.
It doesn’t take long before the crushing loneliness gets to me.
Harvey might be out right now. With Steve.
With George. With someone I don’t know. I consider driving to The Rainbow to see if he’s there, but I’d just end up embarrassing myself. It’s ridiculous how much I miss him.
Time passes, and I just lie here.
There’s nothing on, no TV or stereo. I should have a party.
I should have lots of them. I could have one every night and never feel empty or lonely again.
Brad is having a party right now. The clock says it’s only after nine.
But a party is the last thing I need right now.
I should be getting a good night’s sleep so I’m fresh tomorrow.
So I don’t make any mistakes and lie around in my dressing room like a drunken slob.
I take a quick shower and change my clothes. I drive to Beverly Hills to a Spanish colonial with a few cars pulled into the driveway. Regret creeps in as I make my way to the back, where there’s a small crowd around a pool.
I hang back, hunching my shoulders, and wondering if I should just leave before anyone has seen me. I don’t recognize anyone here. And I don’t see Brad.
“Hey!”
I look to my right and there he is, walking over with a drink in his hand. He claps a hand on my shoulder. “This is great. Glad you could come.”
I lift a shoulder. “Didn’t really have anything else to do.”