Fade to Black (The Black Trilogy Book 1) (13 page)

I would either do great, or I would fall on my face in front of millions of fans. Not my fans, but the fans of the novel on which this film would be based. I hugged Viola a little too hard. She did not protest. All business, she showed me where to sign and had to guide me back to the present as I drifted off into my own thoughts.

“I mean it, Ryan, you screw this up, and we will be sharing a boat paddling down shit creek,” she told me sternly.

I was starting to get a complex.

“Don’t you believe in me, Vi?” I asked, a little offended.

Stuffing papers back into their proper places, she looked into my eyes, piercing me.

“Ryan, if I didn’t believe you could do this, I’d be in my bed watching reruns of
ER
right now, but instead I’m here.” She gestured around her in disgust—not at the house, but at the whole West Coast. I understood.

“It has nothing to do with your ability as an actor, Ryan.” She paused, and for a split second, she looked unsure of what to say. “It has to do with your ability to handle things when the lights go out. If you make the shit mags and kill the film before it’s released, I will cut off your balls, understand?”

I narrowed my eyes at her.

“I will behave. I swear it. I’ll make you proud, Vi, you’ll see.”

I hugged her and kissed her cheek. She waved me off, and, after she packed up her papers, she left.

Viola was never one for many words or affection, but from time to time, I knew she loved me, just because she wasted words on me. Now to party. I did more coke and drank more to celebrate. I didn’t sleep, so needless to say, the next morning I had bags under my eyes that made the makeup artist curse repeatedly.

Molly and I shared Roger’s five-bedroom house in the hills for the duration of the film. There was much anticipation over our current movie together, a sweeping love story set in the thirties. We both hated it, but it was a stepping-stone to the next big thing.

Molly had started acting at the age of six. She had a constant flow of scripts and was a decent actress. She was my best friend, most of the time.

We snorted lines of coke together, popped pills, and often passed out in the same bed. We had a functioning relationship

We met each other’s needs while together, but it never went further than mutual respect and loving friendship, and love her I did. She was better than most guy friends. We shared hours eating and enjoying old movies. We fought over the best kinds of music and writers. It was as close to normal as I’d ever got.

Our friendship started when I was in a low budget film as her supporting actor—aka lover. I can’t complain. It got me noticed at least. We had a complex drinking and drug-induced relationship.

We simply supported each other’s habits. Molly experimented with things I was still nervous about. She loved Demerol and had tried heroin. I favored coke and Jack Daniels which I did a lot of during the days of filming
Sunset,
which we finished filming in record time.

chapter Seventeen

I said good-bye to Molly as I headed south to Louisiana and she, far north to Vancouver. I met up with Sheldon and Nathan at the airport in Dallas. I’d been to Louisiana only once, and briefly.

I had a rare free week before I had to report for duty, or rather rehearsals, so I planned on hitting the clubs with my buddies. Maybe karaoke if I was lucky. I had a swanky studio provided apartment, and we planned to stay there together.

Sheldon would come and go, as he was a married man and had responsibilities, like going to Disney World and Florida beaches with his wife, girls. For the most part, their marriage was a match made in heaven. As long as Sheldon and Beatrice stayed faithful, they agreed to continue their careers that had them in separate locations at times.

Bee, as we called her, was one of the wealthiest women in Europe. She maintained control of her parents’ boutique shops, and successfully so. Choosing to spend most of his time in London, Sheldon traveled to the States every few weeks to direct a video, or cameo a show. The guy was multitalented, to say the least. The funny thing is that
he
was supposed to be the movie star, and me the musician.

Life made our choices for us, or at least for me. Sheldon turned down some of the most sought-after major motion picture roles of recent years, choosing instead a life of family, music and travel, while a board of men and women ran his portion of the company.

We spent the next couple of days in New Orleans. I met some girls and hung out at the local pubs, listening to Sheldon sing while Nathan played guitar. Nathan, I had heard, had a beautiful girlfriend, Lana. I got the impression the movies Lana starred in were of the adult variety. I refrained from asking Nathan too much about it as he did not bring it up himself.

I do know Lana worked different hours all the time, but would only be in the same place for a week at a time. If I had to guess, the movies she was working on were probably cheesy soft porn. Sheldon never said this for sure, but I would bet on it.

Sheldon was slightly shorter than me, and was solidly built—not bulky, but strong. He would be an extra in the film with me. I loved it when he took these small roles, as we had more time to goof off and have jam sessions.

Sheldon and Nathan often called me a toothpick, because they said I was as skinny as one. I was six foot three and lanky. Wardrobe often complained I was too thin. The coke didn’t help with that. They didn’t need to know that detail though.

I was heavier than I had been before.
Sunset
had required I put on muscle for the seminude shots. I loved the feeling, but the workouts were pure hell. Add the food I had to eat every two hours, and the result was lean muscle that took me a while to get used to.

After a few days to relax, it was time to start rehearsals and filming. We were on a pretty tight schedule as the studios pushed for us to be done and the faster the better.

I had read the script at least ten times and had long since memorized my lines. I was ready for the big time. Hopefully anyway. Our apartment was clean enough and stocked full of booze. We ordered take-out and played music when I wasn’t due on set. Sheldon would leave to meet his girls at Disney, then return to film his scenes.

This left Nathan and me, roaming the city without our chaperone. Sheldon kept us in line, but I had made a promise to stay out of the tabloids, and I was convinced that Viola would follow through with the castration if I got into any trouble while filming.

Nathan and I mostly stayed in and played music when he was not with Lana. We would drink and write songs that would never see the light of day—thankfully.

With only a couple of days left on our filming schedule for Louisiana, I’d given up on meeting interesting people from the South. Every girl I met was doe-eyed and looking to be “found” by Hollywood. None had a clue, and I got tired of trying to explain it to them.

Sheldon returned tanned and happier after being with Bee and the girls. A new tattoo was still bright pink and healing on his already covered arms. This time it was an angel, and Beatrice was her name. I rolled my eyes at the cheesiness of it, but I had to admit I was jealous he had the love of his life, money, looks, and beautiful little girls.

When he got back that night, we headed out for a party that Nathan and Sheldon had been booked to play. It was Friday night, and I had the next day off. We were due to wrap, and move on to Mexico to finish filming the following Monday.

The filming so far had been going great, but there was something in me that was sad, no matter what I did. It was always there—when I woke up and again when I would go to sleep.

My intentions for the night were to listen to good music, get drunk, and sleep. When I woke the next day, I would do it all over again for my day off. So far, I was more than halfway through my list for the evening, when I walked right into a wall. I smacked it, face first. Seeing lights for a second, I thought it best to have a seat, as Nathan began to play a new set. My head spun, and the ramblings of strangers were beginning to work my nerves.

I was still blurry-eyed when I caught sight of her. At first glance, I thought I’d imagined her. As my line of vision cleared, I found her again. She was standing off to the side of the room, picking at the label of a beer bottle, looking bored, obviously uninterested in the party.

She had milky, peach-colored skin, and long strawberry-blonde hair. She wore no makeup and reminded me of a hippy. I guessed she was around twenty. I was used to trying to guess a girl’s age, because I had to be careful not to end up in bed with a minor.

The girl looked from person to person intensely and, I thought, with a little fear. Someone was talking in my ear about my Oscar-worthy performance from that day. I nodded, but paid him no attention, and kept watching the girl, intrigued by her out-of-place state.

I found myself drawn to her, and I began making my way to the beautiful stranger. I wasn’t sure of what I would say when I reached her, but I was certain I’d come up with something.

After years of practice with women, you would think me a pro, but this girl made my insides clench. A dark-haired girl reached her first and handed her a set of keys. I paused and watched as the two giggled and conspired about something.

Sipping my beer, I watched as the dark-haired girl returned to where Nathan sat playing. The strawberry blonde girl’s eyes flicked toward Nathan. The light in her eyes left as the dark-haired girl walked away. She was the saddest thing I’d ever seen. Not in looks but in the defeated way she appeared. Finally, I gathered myself and walked straight up to her. I said the first thing that came to mind.

“You’re in Lana’s films?” realizing the dark-haired girl must be Nathan’s girlfriend.

I could have kicked myself.

The girl looked affronted, and I couldn’t blame her. Dark, ebony eyes looked back at me. Damn, she had the deepest brown eyes I had ever seen. I was instantly transfixed. I had momentarily forgotten what I had asked. I realized she had spoken, and I hadn’t heard.

“Excuse me?” I said, bending my ear to her lips. Her breath brushed my ear, and goose bumps formed on my arms.

“Go. To. Hell.” She spoke very slowly, as if I couldn’t understand English.

I pulled back, feeling all interest leave my body. Most girls would recognize me, at least enough to be taken with me. It was one of the downsides of being me sometimes.

I would have enjoyed a conversation without the girl knowing my face or wanting to make it in Hollywood. Boring and pathetic girls, in other words. I looked at the deep brown eyes squarely to make sure she was serious.

She was.

I turned and walked out the door, pissed at myself for being so stupid. I should have just asked if she sucked cock for a living. I didn’t blame her for being offended by my question. It’s not normal, I suppose, to be asked if you do porn.

I saw Nathan’s car parked in the shadows of the lot. I had used all my coke but had a few pills left. Sick of the party, and hurt by the girl’s rejection of me and my stupidity, I climbed in the backseat. It smelled like Armor All. The guy worshipped the car. Why? I didn’t know. I’d heard him brag about it being a classic, and blah blah blah. I swigged down the pills and the rest of my beer, and hoped I wouldn’t be found till morning.

Tomorrow, I was off the whole day. I planned on sleeping as much as Sheldon would let me. I covered myself with my jacket and fell asleep. I could have walked back to the apartment, but in my drunken state, the car seemed a good place to be left alone.

I had only been out for a few minutes, or so I thought, when I woke to the sound of crying. I realized that I was moving, but momentarily forgot where I was. Opening my eyes, I saw lights passing overhead. I sat up, trying to get a grip on my situation. How much had I had to drink? The girl behind the wheel screamed and nearly did a donut in the middle of the road.

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” I said, as we skidded off the road.

When we stopped, she leaped from the car like a scolded dog. I looked out the window, and watched her stop fifteen feet from the car and look back at me, breathing heavy. It was the sad girl from the party.

Her chest was heaving, and panic was on her beautiful face. I opened the door and exited the way a person being arrested would, hands in the air.

“It’s okay! It’s just me, Ryan.” She took no comfort in the words. “From the party?”

She placed a hand over her heart as if to steady it

“What the hell are you doing?” she said.

I put my hands down, not used to anyone but Viola speaking to me this harshly.

“What am I doing? What are you doing, stealing a car?” I yelled back.

She knitted her brows together and almost laughed at this. I tried not to notice she was beautiful even when doing this.

“I didn’t steal anything. What are you doing in the backseat?” she asked, a little less angry.

“I was knitting a sweater. What do you think I was doing? I was trying to get some sleep.” I turned and kicked the door shut. I was mad, but had no idea why. “Where are we anyway?” I demanded, looking around.

The sky was black. My internal clock gave me no indication of what time it was. I wasn’t sure I even cared. When the girl didn’t answer, I looked back at her. She seemed to be thinking.

“I was going to the shore to watch the sunrise. I wanted to be alone. Get away,” she stated simply.

I blew out a heavy breath and looked around again for something to do. There was no traffic, and we were on a road without lines. There was vegetation around, but not much.

I decided we were not far from the coast, but definitely far from anywhere I was familiar with. I’m not sure what made me do it, but I thought I’d play along.

“Well, you’re just going to have to take me with you.”

I gave her my best camera smile.

She looked at me with sarcasm in her dark eyes.

“I don’t know you. You could be a murderer,” she said.

I put my hand to my chest and acted injured.

“I should be hurt you don’t know me, but I’m not. This time next year, everyone will know me,” I said in mock arrogance. Sheldon would be proud. “For now, I’m just Ryan, and you are?”

I held a hand out for her to come forward and shake. Honestly, I just wanted a reason to touch her.

Something came over her eyes just then, as if she were slipping into to a character herself.

“Livia,” she said, taking a few steps forward, and shaking my hand lightly.

Electricity ran through me at her touch. I smiled politely, as if nothing had passed. I wasn’t sure if she was being honest, but I nodded.

“Nice to meet you,” with a bow. “Now Livia, may I drive us to the shore to watch the sunrise, or shall we return to that dreadful party?”

Livia looked down the road, deciding.

“Come on. Time’s wasting,” I said, with a smile.

I had the feeling I was getting creepy with it now, but I wanted nothing more than to be alone with this girl. I needed to make a decent second impression.

Finally, she just tossed me the keys and got in the car, making sure not to brush me as she did. I caught a whiff of sweet perfume, laced with a hint of flowers. It was intoxicating. Light-headed I got behind the wheel, a little self-consciously. I wasn’t a great driver, and now I had my nerves to deal with.

“Where to, love?” I asked looking over at her, truly lost. It was dark, but I could see her delicate features turn sad in the dashboard lighting. “You okay?” I asked, genuinely concerned.

“I’m fine,” she said softly. “Just straight ahead till we reach the shore. It’s not far.”

We drove maybe a half hour. I talked mostly, and Livia stayed tight-lipped. She was not cold, and I knew this was an act. I sensed she was fragile in most ways, but there was a hard exterior about her, keeping her from relaxing with me.

She wore no wedding band, and when I asked, she said she had no boyfriend. She sat in stony silence, hands pushed tight between her thighs as if I was going to rip one from her body at any second.

I stopped at a gas station, and bought a dozen beef jerky, chips, water, cheap beer, and a dollar ninety-nine rose. This got me a small laugh. She took it from my hand, as I held it up to her.