Beautiful PRICK (3 page)

CHAPTER FOUR

“I saw you staring at me.”

Well, that’s not embarrassing. (That was sarcasm)

I just blurt out whatever happens to cross my mind. “I
wasn’t really staring at you. It was this whole thing where I thought you were
someone I knew… like actually knew, not just that I knew you because you were
famous. Well, then I thought I should talk to you because I knew you, except as
I was walking over to you, I realized that I didn’t actually know you, so
that’s why I stopped, but then you motioned for me to come over. You
were
motioning
for me to come over, right? That wasn’t just me thinking something was
happening when it really wasn’t happening, was it?”

He stares at me, rightfully so, because I sound like a
freaking idiot.

And, just to make myself seem like more of an idiot, I keep
talking. “So yeah, that was my story. See you later, bud.”

Did I just call him “bud”? I think I need to go have my head
examined.

“Bud?” He starts to laugh as I turn away. I don’t know what
to think of myself, but I surely don’t want to turn back around and face him.

“No, no, you can’t just leave after that whole speech.” He’s
still laughing.

So I laugh with him. That’s what you do when something is
embarrassing: you laugh at yourself so it seems as though you’re part of the
joke rather than the butt of it.

Normal human behavior in a social setting: I’m all over it.

“I’m Johnny.”

I make a weird face, because I’m obviously on a roll and a
weird face is just the next best thing. “I know your name. Did you just miss my
whole soliloquy there?”

“Oh, yes, right. And your name is?”

“It’s…” And I forget my name. Seriously? Did I really just
forget my name?

I mean, it’s not like he’d remember it anyway. He’s a big
time movie star and I’m a… I’m a… really? Now I don’t even know
what
I
am?

Someone please help me.

“Caroline. My name is Caroline, and my phone is buzzing in
my pocket.”

Apparently I have lost my filter.

“Are you going to answer that?” Johnny gestures to my butt. Awesome.

“I am. Right now.”

So I take my phone out of my pocket. “It’s my boyfriend.” I
say it very casually. “Shoot, it’s my boyfriend.” That one isn’t so casual, as I
realize that I was supposed to call Nick when I was on my way to the studio. So
I’m sure that he’s calling now to find out why I didn’t call him, and then to
tell me that L.A. makes me scatterbrained.

I begin to walk away, and I give Johnny a little wave. “It
was nice to meet you, Johnny.”

“Nice to meet you too, Caroline.”

Well, if that wasn’t the most embarrassing interaction with
another person, ever…

I’m weird, I’m quirky, but I swear I’m not a colossal idiot.
And yet, I’m quite sure that Johnny Braylock thinks I am something even more
ridiculous than a colossal idiot. Awesome.

“Hey babe. I am so sorry.” I figure if I apologize before he
gets a chance to scold me, he really has no reason to even bring it up.

We talk for a bit, not about anything important. He tells me
that he’s taking a break from work to stalk people on Facebook, and I tell him
I just made a complete fool of myself in front of Johnny Braylock. We talk
about Johnny a little: is he as big as he looks in the movies? Are his teeth as
white as they are in the movies? Does he actually have that tattoo of a
chipmunk on his forearm or was that just for the movie where he played the
alien who was exiled to earth and then had to save humankind?

I know none of the answers. It was as though talking to
Johnny was not a real occurrence, like I made the whole thing up.

But I didn’t, I really did talk to him. I just had no idea
how tall he was, how white his teeth were, or if he still had a tattoo of a
chipmunk on his forearm.

“L.A. makes you scatterbrained.”

See, I told you he would say it.

“I’m excited to see you this weekend.” I change the subject.

“That’s actually why I called…”

And here we go. I knew this was going to happen. He goes on
to tell me that he has some client he has to meet with, for some really big
company that’s really important,
and if I could
just hold off a little longer he promises to make it out soon.

It’s fine. It really is. I understand how important his job
is, how he needs to keep plugging away, and blah, blah, blah. I should know
more, but gosh, is it so boring! He’s a CPA. When we first started dating, almost
five years ago, he told me that he was a CPA;
and
since I had heard that acronym before, I just kept nodding my head as if I knew
exactly what he was talking about. Then
he kept
talking, and I spaced out, because again, it is so boring. I’d say it took me a
good six months before I got fed up with pretending, and went to the World Wide
Web to actually look up CPA.

He’s an accountant. That’s all it is: nothing fancy. Everything
started making sense after that.

But let’s be honest; he’s an accountant. He could do that in
Indiana if he needed to do so. I’m a writer. There are only so many places I
can be, especially for my niche market.

Of course, he doesn’t see it like that.

I love the boy dearly, but when I told him I was thinking
about moving to L.A., he nodded his head and said that it was a good idea. Then,
when I told him my timeline, a good three weeks later, he acted as if it was
the first time I was bringing it up. Apparently, he thought it was just another
one of my “daydreams”. I would forgo the idea once I realized I would have to
buy a car, get car insurance, and pay for gas. But, that’s not what happened. I
didn’t forgo the idea, because contrary to what he thinks, I’m serious about my
craft.

Probably just to appease me, we talked about him moving to
the west coast with me, as his company even has an office in Los Angeles. But,
as luck would have it, he got a promotion at work and felt bad asking for a
transfer… even though, I repeat, they have an office in Los Angeles.

No? That doesn’t make sense? Well, it didn’t make sense to
me either.

So, we got drunk and broke up.

I don’t think he remembers that drunken night though, because
we never spoke of it again, and the next day he introduced me to a coworker as
his girlfriend. I was tired, and didn’t want to pick a fight, so I figured we’d
talk about it later.

But we never did.

Fast-forward six months, and here we are, three thousand
miles away from each other.

But again, I’m fine.

“So you’re not coming?”

He huffs into the phone. “Not this time. Can you come here?”

“I’m working.”  I say it as if I’ve just repeated myself
three times, because I have.

“Yeah, but that’s not real work.” He laughs.

I do everything in my power not to explode, but my powers
are not that great.

“I’m going to go, Nick.”

“Caroline, I didn’t mean it that way.”

“No, I get it.” I blatantly lie. “Don’t forget to cancel
your flight. Hopefully you can get some sort of credit.” I try to conceal my
anger.

“Oh, it’s no big deal. I never booked a flight in the first
place.”

“Of course you didn’t.” I say under my breath.

“What was that?”

“I have to go, Nick.”

And I hang up without another word, because honestly, I
don’t want to talk to him anymore.

That’s the thing about long distance relationships; they can
go one of two ways…

1.
     
Absence
makes the heart grow fonder.

Or

2.
     
Out
of sight, out of mind.

Those are two very common sayings, and yet, they ABSOLUTELY
contradict each other. When I was in middle school, I was dating this guy, but
wasn’t able to see him all summer. I was afraid by the time we got back to
school, he would forget about me. So my mom let me in on a little secret:

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

He could never forget about me, because he’d been playing
the idea of me up in his head since we had been apart. Works for me!

Then, three years later, I was hanging out with this guy who
happened to be dating one of my best friends. This time, she was the one who
was away for the summer. I was afraid that her boyfriend might have feelings
for me, so I told my mom about the situation. She let me in on another little
secret:

Out of sight, out of mind.

Of course Becky’s boyfriend was falling for me, because I
was there and she wasn’t.

What the hell, Mom? Your logic doesn’t make sense. Or, these
are all just little things we tell ourselves when we try to make any sense of
this thing we call
love.

Okay, I’ll be honest: I have no idea what I am ranting
about. There is a point though, I promise: I’m in a long distance relationship
and I’m waiting to see which of her pearls of wisdom apply to my current
situation. Will our absence make our hearts grow fonder? Or will we run the
“out of sight, out of mind” track?

And now my Walkie Talkie is screaming at me. Time to get to
work!

CHAPTER FIVE

“…and then she just walked up and started talking to Johnny Braylock!”
Melissa yells to her husband over her shoulder as she pulls dinner from the
oven.

I’m making faces at Austin who is sitting in his high chair
across the dining room table from me. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

“It wasn’t a big deal, my ass.” Melissa jokingly covers
Austin’s ears. “Keith, you have no idea how obsessed Caroline used to be with
Johnny Braylock.”

“Caroline, you want a beer?” Keith calls to me from the
kitchen.

“I think I need one for this conversation!” I answer back.

Keith enters holding the necks of three beer bottles. “So,
Johnny Braylock, huh?”

“Don’t judge me.” I shake my head at him.

“I’m not judging.”

We all clink our bottles together before we dig into dinner.
We joke about my obsession with Johnny, all the fantasies of mine that he’s
been a part of, and how my subconscious is desperately trying to make those
fantasies become a reality. Otherwise, I never would have had the guts to
actually talk to him.

“He was nice.”

“Really? I’ve heard that he’s kind of a dick.” Keith says
through a mouth full of chicken.

“Keith, chew please.” Melissa sometimes speaks to her
husband as if he’s another child.

“I’ve heard that too, but I didn’t see it. I mean, he might
be a dick. I don’t know. But if he is, he wasn’t to me.”

Melissa giggles as she spoon-feeds Austin. “Looks like
someone’s crush is coming back.”

“Stop it!” I have the oddest desire to toss broccoli at her.

“And now you’re blushing. Oh my God, you love him.”

I take a sip of beer, trying to calm my apparently blushing
cheeks. We finish dinner, and I help Melissa clean up while Keith gives Austin
a bath.

“So you have another seven a.m. call tomorrow.”

“Melissa, I got my schedule. You don’t need to babysit me
anymore.”

“I just… I just…”

I know what she wants to say, and I also know why she
struggles to say it. We’re close enough that she knows what I’m thinking
without me even having to think it. When we met, we were in the same place. We
were both struggling, but excited about our futures. Since then, she has gotten
exactly what she always wanted. Her life is set, and her future has started. Me…
I’m still where I was all those years ago, just on the other side of the
country.

It’s not her fault that she found success before I did: I
don’t blame her for that. Sometimes I feel as though she blames herself, and I
hate that. I try not to let her bring it up, but it’s unavoidable.

“You know I love you, right?” I smile at her.

“I do.”

“And I appreciate everything you do for me.”

“I know that too.” She looks down at the table.

“And if I’m ever broke and homeless, I’ll be sleeping on
your couch.”

We both laugh, mostly because we know it’s the truth.

Melissa asks if I want to spend the night, but I politely
decline. I actually enjoy the alone time. So I kiss Austin goodnight and bid
them all adieu.

I’m exhausted when I walk into my apartment, and swear to
myself that I’m going straight to bed. Obviously that means that I’m going to
put on a syndicated crime show of sorts, but first, I take a quick peek at IMDB,
the Internet Movie Database. I type in Johnny’s name and scroll through his
page.

Johnny Braylock

A.K.A. Jonathan Michael Braylock

Date of Birth: April 27
^th
, 1982

Height: 6’1”

I’m about to flip on the television, but I decide to click
on the link labeled “trivia”.

·
        
Has a twin sister, Julia “Jules” Braylock

·
        
Has been in two movies with his sister,
Playground Reunion
and
Baseball is for Sissies

·
        
Originally from Wales, his family moved to the states when he was
10

·
        
Holds a second degree black belt

·
        
His mother, a dance teacher, only allowed him to pursue martial
arts if he also took tap dance.

·
        
His father, a lawyer, died in a car accident when he was only
twelve years old

·
        
Left acting for five years to join the Marines

·
        
Has a tattoo on his forearm of a chipmunk

Chipmunk tattoo! I want to call Nick to tell him that I now
know the answer to one of his questions, but I’m pretty sure he’ll be concerned
that I’m up stalking Johnny at one in the morning. Also, it’s four in the
morning in New York, so I doubt he’ll appreciate me calling at all.

I know I should go to bed. I know I have an early day, and
most likely a long day ahead of me, but I can’t stop myself from wondering if
he has a girlfriend. So I go to Google, and type in:
Johnny Braylock
girlfriend.

A few pictures come up of him with other girls, but none of
them seem recent. I recognize some of the women from movies and television
shows, I recognize his sister too, as
Baseball is for Sissies
was my
absolute favorite movie growing up, and there are a few pictures of him with a
woman I can only assume is his mother. But from what I can tell, he doesn’t
currently have a girlfriend. Still, I keep looking at pictures. I read gossip. I
watch interviews. I look up late night clips.

I begin to feel like a teenager again, obsessing over the
cute boy in the movies. But this time, I’ve met him. He’s not just a figment;
he’s a reality. I’m not staring at him on a screen. I can see him in real life.
There’s a good chance that I’ll walk onto set tomorrow, and he’ll be there.

I fall asleep feeling different than I have since I moved to
L.A. I’m not upset that my career hasn’t taken off. I’m not depressed that I’m
not sure where my life is going. I have something to be excited about, someone to
be excited about.

I get to live out my childhood fantasy.

That’s pretty damn awesome.