Fade to Black (The Black Trilogy Book 1) (15 page)

BOOK: Fade to Black (The Black Trilogy Book 1)
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chapter nineteen

The shoot in Rome took longer than expected, as shoots often did. I could not join Molly on the red carpet for the L.A.
Sunset
premiere. She called to tell me it went great, and numbers were rising in the States by the day.

“I’m being followed day and night by the paps. Just wait till you get back. It’ll be the same for you. I’ll bet you we’ll be married in two weeks, the way they’re talking!” she laughed.

I went along with her numbly. I did not believe it would be the same with me of course. Molly was a somewhat higher priority, considering her film career and her notoriety.

“Hey, listen. They’re running old pictures of us hanging out. They’re trying to make our on-screen love a reflection of our blossoming off-screen love.” She laughed. “Just be prepared,” she added, more serious now.

“I’m sure it will last all of a day.” I said dryly.

“What’s wrong Ryan? You sound funny and don’t blame it on the international call because I know you better than that.”

I hesitated feeling foolish then decided if I could tell anyone it was Molly.

“I met this girl in Louisiana,”

“Mmm hhhh”

“We kind of just-”

“Screwed like rabbits?” Molly teased.

“Well, yeah but that’s not the point.”

“Oh? There’s a point to a girl? Do tell.”

“Forget it.”

“No, I’m sorry. Tell me.”

“I don’t know, I just kind of feel weird and I don’t know her last name or anything.”

“Oh. My. God. Are you telling me you’re in love?”

“No,” I said to fast. “I just spent one day with her.”

“Ryan, babe, sometimes it only takes one look.”

There was sadness in Molly’s voice as she spoke and I knew she had let the possibility of being in love go for fear of being caught by the paparazzi. I told her about Livia and Molly listened and told me once the media circuit was over she would help me look for her. We finally hung up after several hours of talking.

I had to do a media tour in the States when I got back. I had done this a few times before, but never on the hems of a big-budget movie. I was excited. Maybe I would be noticed a little more. Roger called the next day. This was strange. He never called while I was on location. I was immediately on guard. He got right to the point.

“I’m sending Viola tonight. She will help guide you through the frenzy. There are teenagers everywhere. I don’t know who is worse, them or their moms. Anyway there will be a guy by the name of Josh Logue waiting for you at the airport. Nathan recommended him a while back and he’s been bodyguard for a few high profile clients. So far he is excellent security. He’s a little young but great at what he does.”

I couldn’t get a word in, but agreed with the occasional, “Okay.” Finally, when he took a breath, I said, “What? Security? Why? How’s Nathan?”

I hadn’t talked to him, but Sheldon was headed to Tennessee to see him, with his girls. He had told his daughters they could visit Dollywood and ride pretty ponies while they were in Tennessee, and that they might even see wild eagles. I rolled my eyes at this, envious he could come and go so freely.

“He’s doing good. Being sober suits him. I’m headed there for Christmas. We’ll work out your schedule, but I believe you and Molly both will be in France. Maybe we can meet up for New Year’s. You’ve hit the big time, kid. It may not be with the movie you thought, but that just means the next will be even bigger. You know what they say? Be careful what you wish for.”

If he was proud, I didn’t hear it in his voice. He sounded almost sad.

“You’ll be in Tennessee for Christmas?” That was all I had gathered from all he said. “With Sheldon? Why?”

I asked, not knowing what would possess this avid New Yorker to travel to the hills for Christmas.

“Nathan and Piper are my cousins. Well, their dad was my first cousin anyway. I’ve never told you that our granddads were brothers?”

I stupidly said, “Huh?”

He continued. “Yes, our great-grand pop came from the old country and settled in Cosby, Tennessee. Bought up a bunch of land and married a local gal. My dad was much older than the senior Nathaniel, but my dad sought adventures away from the sticks, while Nathaniel went to the war, and came home a hero, and brought a wife with him too. Dad never returned, and after their dad passed, Nathaniel inherited most of the land he’d been helping to work. Granddad always kept a piece set aside for my dad, but when he died, it went to Nathaniel. Anyway, I visit from time to time. I’ve grown to crave the mountains and Piper’s cooking. I go home, as I call it now, every chance I get. Listen to me go on and on about this stuff.”

I listened intently, wishing I were somehow kin to Nathan and Roger too. I was an only child, with a mother lost to me and a father who had wallowed in self-pity since the moment she left him for another man.

Sheldon, Molly, and sadly, Viola were my family. Roger too, but we mostly talked business. I loved Roger, and considered him a surrogate father.

“Be careful, Ryan. Some of these crowds can be a little overwhelming. You’ll like Josh. Get some rest, and I’ll see you soon.” He hung up, not waiting on me to say good-bye.

Viola arrived and stayed the remainder of the shoot. She was on the phone constantly or else watching the news. When I would ask what was going on, she would say, “Nothing. Just concentrate on your acting.”

I couldn’t reach Molly. I assumed she was doing the media circuit, but it was making me nervous. We finally wrapped in Rome. I felt confident in my first big role. The main actress wasn’t well known, but she was nice enough.

The film would have me in emotional states I hadn’t known I had. If I were honest, I would admit it was due to the woman I left in Louisiana. I couldn’t think about her without guilt and frustration.

I headed back to the States, not knowing what wave of crazy I was about to get slapped with. Viola handed me Valium, vodka, and a stack of tabloids on the plane. She explained the craze that surrounded this tiny movie Molly and I had shot together.

Every magazine was covered with my picture, accompanied by Molly. With a jolt, I saw the front cover of one magazine, a small player in the market of tabloids, but they had clearly hit the jackpot without even knowing it.

I sat naked on a blanket in broad daylight with a long-limbed beauty straddling me. It was a grainy photo, taken from some distance away, but you could clearly make out my face. Livia had her head tilted, and her face was half-shadowed by mine. My head whirled, and for a second I wondered if I had actually been there with her. I touched the slick cover with my finger, willing her to know I was still looking for her.

The little magazine had no idea what they had captured, but I was a hot topic and they ran with anything right now. All the other magazines were splashed with my and Molly’s secret wedding. We were either arm-in-arm, as we often walked, or laughing, talking close to each other.

We were painted as lovers. We were not. Molly was like my sister, pure and simple. To have our innocent relationship distorted in this way made me feel ashamed. Besides, had no one noticed she was gay? Then again, she was a good actress.

We arrived at JFK airport. I was met at the terminal by a beefy man with dark hair and a deep, tropical tan. He introduced himself as Josh. By the time I had reached JFK,
Sunset
had crossed the three hundred million mark and was still climbing.

“Ryan?” Viola said sharply, turning to me in the terminal. “Stay in front of me, and stick to Josh, understand?”

For the first time I was worried.

“Okay,” is all I said, knowing better than to question her.

Josh walked me through what was about to happen. The more he said, the more my stomach clenched. I was going to freak out, right there in front of everyone.

“Remember, do not stop. Keep your head down, glasses on. The flashes will blind you. Just watch my legs and feet. Do not slow down. Keep directly in pace with me. Viola will be behind you, not for security, but for damage control. Do you have a favorite song?” He looked at me seriously, as if guessing I was going to melt down.

“Um, yeah, guess so.” I took the cap he held out for me—a black Yankees hat. I put it on, not caring.

“Good. Keep singing it as we walk. Not out loud, but in your head. It will help you stay calm.”

I was scared now. What was going on? I looked back at Viola. She shrugged, and gave me a pitying look. Did she really feel sorry for me? If so that would be a first.

Before I could breathe, we were off and nearly running. Josh’s long legs stayed in my sights. When I heard screaming, I forgot for a second, and looked up. I wanted to be flattered, but I was horrified. My ears nearly burst. Flashbulbs were going off quicker than I could blink. I lost sight of Josh, and nearly got swept away by the current of what must have been hundreds of screaming girls.

I felt Viola’s hand on my back, pushing me to keep going, Josh got a handful of my jacket and pulled.

A girl was screaming, “Please take me home with you! You would love me.”

I wanted to pass out. The crowd was swelling and crushing me. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. The screaming was deafening. I was picked up off my feet more than once. Josh pulled me so hard my jacket cut into my neck. I paid no attention to it.

I tried to start singing in my head, but then I forgot the song. After what felt like twenty minutes, we climbed into a waiting Suburban. I’d never been more thankful for anything than I was for that car. Viola was already in the front seat when Josh and I got in.

I took several deep breaths before speaking.

“What the hell is going on?”

Viola looked back at me smiling, “Welcome to the movie business, kid. You’re a star.” And she winked.

We were flying down the streets at breakneck speed, Josh looking here and there, making comments. I felt stings on my neck and hands, little tiny scrapes from fingernails.

We were on Fifth Avenue before Josh spoke. “You did good, Ryan, and I think we are good at the Plaza,” he said.

I frowned.

“The Plaza? I wanted to go to my apartment,” I said, now looking at Viola.

She ignored me, if she heard me at all. Josh shook his head.

“No can do, padre. Maybe tonight when the crazies are worn out, but it’s a bees’ nest at your place.”

This pissed me off. As nice as the Plaza was, I was ready to go home and veg in front of the TV, in my underwear, with food that was bad for me, and maybe make a few calls to try and locate Livia again. I wasn’t going to give that one up.

“Shit,” I said, disgusted.

 

 


 

Over the next few days, it only got worse. Paps and girls found my hotel in the city, and then someone published the address of my apartment in SoHo. Molly was staying with me by then. All we did was drink, snort coke, and pop pills. I watched the streets, frantic and anxiety-ridden. I watched the tabloid news obsessively.

Molly and I were always the first story of the night. Though she thought it was crazy, it didn’t seem to bother her like it did me. I had nightmares of being chased. Josh stayed day and night, and though it wasn’t said, I had the distinct impression that some of these people would easily hurt me if they got to me. I was a prisoner for weeks.

Finally, I was escorted to my apartment in the dead of night. A few paps were camped out, and I was paranoid as hell by the time I got inside and dead-bolted the door. The next few days, I did business on the phone, and Viola was in and out of the apartment. She never commented on the amount of drugs or booze I was consuming.

I was having a nervous breakdown, and this is how I dealt with it. We never spoke about it. Someone I did ask about was Molly. She had begun shooting Heroin every day, and the tabloids were tearing her apart. A photo of Molly and a young girl kissing at a party surfaced and spread through the news like wild fire.

“Vi? Do you think Molly is okay?” I asked Viola, as she read over a memo.

Her business guard was down. Her dark hair still silky and professional, but she had taken off her shoes while she read and sipped wine from a plastic cup. Had I not been concerned for Molly, I would have found this sight amusing.

Viola didn’t answer at first. Instead, she finished what she was reading, then looked at me long and hard. Finally, shrugging, she said, “Depends on what you call okay. Are you okay, Ryan?”

I sighed, annoyed with her.

“Vi, I’m serious. Molly hasn’t been herself since I got back. Has something happened I don’t know about?”

Viola sipped her wine, and said, more seriously this time, “I think she is having trouble with, you know.” She paused, searching for words, a weird thing for Viola. “With a girl,” she finished simply.

“Molly has a girlfriend?” I asked shocked.

Viola looked at me a little sadly.

“Yeah. For a while now. Maybe a year, but she’s not willing to be seen with her, and it’s just a strain on their relationship. Then you add to all this mess with the tabloids, and the studios having a shit fit,” Then she stopped short.

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