Just breathe.
A heavy sigh leaves my mouth when I drop the duffel bag and slide my jacket over the seat before sitting down. A sharp, foul perfume smell hits me on the inhale. I hold my attention on my breath for an extra beat to let the odor subside before picking up the dialogue.
“Would you recommend the milkshake?” I reach over to tap Laura’s silver jug with my finger.
She pushes her chest forward, batting her fake eyelashes. Her emerald-green eyes lock onto mine. “Wanna try it?” She slides it across to me.
I nod and grab the jug, taking a drink and letting the thick creamy vanilla shake dance along my tongue. The sugary sweetness hits the back of my throat and my mind calls for more. I pull back slightly, cautious of brain freeze and the slippery slope that consuming more leads to. Continuity demands that I hold myself to the same amount of consumption every take, and I definitely don’t need another night hugging the toilet.
“Mm, that’s good.” I slide the jug back to Laura, who spins around to face me.
“I’ve not seen you round here before,” she says. She reaches out with a finger to wipe the milkshake from my mustache and beard underneath my lip. “What’s a guy like you doing in a small town like this?”
Goosebumps pop up across my forearms at the touch of her hand.
“I’m just passing through.” I lower my voice as I lean toward her.
Another waitress slides between Laura and me. “What can I get you?” she asks.
“I’ll take what she’s having.” My gaze is locked on Laura. The twitching leg of the actress to Laura’s right draws my attention as the waitress holds position.
“Oh my God, it’s really you, Alexander Morgan!” The actress, who seems barely over eighteen, squeals and puts her hands up to cover her mouth.
My attention turns fully to her as Alfonso yells cut.
“It’s me.” My shoulders drop and I force a smile.
It’s the response I’m used to offering whenever people stop me. I’m never allowed to be off. I always have to be happy and available, locking away whatever’s really going on, so that my real mood can’t be weaponized by the media.
God forbid famous people be human too.
Rob comes over and pulls the actress away. I shake my head when he looks back at me for direction on whether to remove her, so he takes her round the corner instead.
“Can you believe Brian still hasn’t returned any of my messages.” Laura shoves her phone in my face.
“What?”
I reach for a french fry.
“Has Brian messaged you since he left?” She throws her phone down. “And come to think of it, why won’t you message me back either? Has he said something?” Laura studies every inch of my face, like a detective scouring a crime scene for any trace of evidence.
“No,” I answer truthfully.
I guess I’m lying by omission by not disclosing the voicemail he left me last weekend, but I already have one ex occupying my mind. I don’t need her ex occupying it too.
“That bastard.” Her face twists in revulsion. “He promisedhe’d call every day when he returned to LA, but nothing.” Laura dips a french fry in ketchup and shoves it in her mouth. I let the silence between us grow while she chews, letting her marinate in her resentment toward him.
Laura leans back toward me. “Do you remember anything about that night we went back to my room?” She smacks her lips loudly as she reaches for another french fry.
The mere thought of that night leaves a bitterness in my mouth. The sight of two condoms in the trash instantly flashes through my mind. Numerous questions line the edge of my tongue.
What does she remember?
Why was one of the condoms inside out?
Did she know Brian was into guys too?
Her furrowed brows make me rethink asking any questions.
