13
Damian
EXTRAtainmentInvestigates!
Where in the World Is Damian Marshall?
In the case of the disappearing movie star, the mystery remains. Instead of facing his fans and supporters, Damian Marshall has dropped off the map. While rumors swirl, everyone from former co-stars to users on social media has weighed in on the actor’s whereabouts. He’s been reportedly spotted everywhere from a guerilla fashion show in Tokyo to a Buddhist monastery in Nova Scotia, Canada. But while hearsay abounds, the Marshall camp remains silent.
Anderson Lind, director of theShadow Leaguefranchise, was one of the last people to see Marshall in public. He says, “I hope wherever Damian is, he’s taking the time to look after himself and reflect on his career in Hollywood. This is a tough business, and taking time away can be good for everyone.”
Still, the question remains. Where in the world is Damian Marshall?
* * *
I triedto give him some space. I honestly did. The hotel staff took over as soon as we docked, and I went up to my room, figuring Jack was in good hands. But within thirty minutes, I couldn’t sit still. I tried to check some emails but instead wound up on news sites again, reading about the growing media manhunt to determine my whereabouts and Anderson giving fucking soundbites like we’re friends. The silver fish on the wall gave me a sympathetic look, like “What can you do?”
I went down to Vin’s room, but he was on a call with Roberta, and as soon as she saw me in the corner of the screen, she shouted “Damian! Did you read the script I sent?” and I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I found the fitness center and ran on the treadmill until my legs ached, then sat in the hot tub until my head swam. Vin was still on his call, and even after I’d showered, I couldn’t settle.
So I go down to the front desk. The young woman working turns bright red as I walk up to her, and I give her a minute to compose herself before I speak.
“H-Hello,” she stammers.
“Hi.”
“Can I... can I help you?”
And now it’s my turn to feel uncomfortable because I’m about to ask for something personal. Not for a custom fishing expedition or a meal made entirely of macrobiotic foods or for someone to redecorate my room using only the color white. Not that I’ve ever asked for either of the last two, but right now I’m feeling super vulnerable.
“I want to see Jack,” I say. She blinks like I’ve spoken in a language she doesn’t understand. “Please. I need to know he’s okay.”
He scared the shit out of me. When he asked me to take over driving the boat, I half expected him to be dead or at least unconscious by the time we got back to the hotel. And he held it together, but now I’m envisioning him bleeding out slowly somewhere without anyone knowing.
Clearly I’ve been in too many movies and have lost touch with reality.
“Oh.” The woman at the desk looks around uneasily. Her name tag says she’s Marci.
“Marci. I’ll feel terrible if he’s really hurt. I was the one who asked to go out this morning even though the weather was bad. If I could see him to know he’s okay, I’ll feel a lot better.”
Marci’s still glancing around like she’s worried someone will overhear us. She bites her lip, and finally she says, “I want to play charades.”
“I’m sorry, what?” I know all those words, but none of them make sense in context.
She stands up straighter. “I could get in a lot of trouble taking you to see him. Guests aren’t allowed in employee areas. So if you want me to show you where he is, I want you to tell Harper that you want to play charades with the staff, and then I want to be on your team.”
That... I’ve had stranger requests. And as they go, a party game at a wilderness fishing lodge is far less weird or intrusive than the people who want to hold my hand, or have a piece of my clothing, or keep the plastic cup I drank from while on a panel.
“Why?” Now I’m having visions of her rigging the game so I have to act out something insensitive or incriminating and a video of it will wind up on social media before I’ve even managed to get back to California.
She smiles. “Because I want you to have the best Wild Eagle experience ever. And I’ll never be able to tell anyone, but I’ll know I got to act with Damian Marshall, and that’s pretty amazing.”
I can’t tell if she’s lying or if her life’s ambition is to have me make a fool of myself for her entertainment, but ultimately, I can’t really see a huge downside to this.
“Uh... sure. I’ll make it happen.”
Vin’s going to hate me. He hates games like that. Mostly because he’s super competitive but also terrible at any kind of game with a time limit. He gets stressed and freaks out, and then he gets pissed when he loses.
“Deal.” Marci holds out her hand to shake, and I give her my best movie star smile when I take it, just to watch her squirm. She goes bright red again, but she puts out the Back in Five Minutes card on the desk—even though I’m her only guest, so who else needs to know she’ll be back?—and motions for me to follow her.
