Already Famous

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Already Famous Page 20

by Heather Leigh


  “Whoa, calm down,” the man next to me says.

  I open my eyes and realize that I’m clenching my hands into fists and gritting my teeth together furiously.

  “Sorry, I just really need to get home. No offense to the sick person back there,” I explain.

  “Don’t we all,” he chuckles.

  No buddy, we don’t. I think, directing my anger at the innocent man besides me. I might lose the only woman I’ve ever loved tonight if I don’t get there in time. Aggravated, I push the button to call the flight attendant. I’ve never needed a drink this badly in my life.

  “Can’t you go faster?” I ask the cabbie as he speeds through the Midtown tunnel.

  “Buddy, this ain’t the movies like you’re used to. There’s other cars on the road,” he says in his heavy New York accent.

  “Fuck,” I groan to myself. It’s already after 11pm and Sydney hasn’t answered her phone any of the dozens of times I’ve called since landing at JFK. She did leave a message telling me that she wouldn’t have her phone on her at the party so I’m not surprised that she didn’t pick up. I’m so late, I won’t even have time to change. I guess I’m going to this big nightclub opening in the same jeans, wrinkled button down, and leather jacket I’ve been wearing all day.

  The cab finally pulls up to the curb outside the Warren, I toss the driver two fifties and jump out into the sea of vicious sharks waiting by the entrance.

  “Andrew, we didn’t see your name on the VIP celebrity list, are you here for the party?”

  “Are you here with a date?”

  “Did you just come in a cab?”

  “I thought you were in L.A. filming.”

  The paparazzi are still hanging out on the red carpet outside this thing, even though everyone has probably already arrived. I pointedly ignore them and hurry inside to find Sydney, flashbulbs snapping from every side.

  “How the hell am I going to do this,” I mutter to myself. I ask security to put me into a conference room and have them send an assistant up to the club to find Sydney. The girl assured me that she knew who Sydney was and could bring her down to me.

  I pace the room and formulate a speech while I wait the agonizing minutes for Sydney to arrive.

  “Mr. Forrester?” I turn at the sound of a timid little voice.

  I whip around and see the girl alone. “Where’s Sydney?” I ask the assistant, who’s cowering in the doorway, clearly intimidated by me.

  “Ummmm,” she fidgets anxiously and can’t or won’t look at me, “apparently she left a little while ago.”

  “What! Where the fuck did she go?”

  “I’m sorry, I really don’t know,” the girl says, pale and cringing from my hostile glare.

  I storm over to the exit and stare down the poor hotel employee, “Leave,” I growl.

  I pull out my phone and dial Leah, thankful that she had the foresight to give me her number when I met with her the last time I was in town.

  “Hello?”

  “Leah, it’s Drew. I’m in one of the conference rooms of the hotel. They’re saying Sydney left, is that true?”

  There’s a moment of dead space before Leah answers. “Crap, why don’t I come down and meet with you,” she says in a voice that lets me know something is very wrong.

  “No, I’m coming up there! Wait for me,” I bark back.

  Fuck! I shove my phone into my pocket and storm towards the elevators. A couple near the elevator bank visibly shrinks back as I approach. I stab the button and jump in when the doors slide open.

  Am I that frightening? I catch sight of my reflection in the mirrored doors as they shut and see that yes, I look pissed and pretty fucking scary.

  When the doors slide open, I run out of the elevator and make my way into the crowded nightclub.

  “Andrew, great to see you!”

  “Hey Andrew. I hadn’t heard you’d be here.”

  I shove right past people I’ve known a long time and people I don’t know at all, not stopping to talk to a single one of them. I see others flinch back when they see me coming. Smart.

  “Drew?” I hear someone call my real name and spin around to see who it is.

  Leah is pushing her way through the thick crowd on the dance floor, her face pinched with stress.

  “Leah, where is Sydney?” I demand when she finally reaches me.

  “Drew, not here.” Her eyes are darting around at the bystanders who are clearly listening in on our conversation.

  Like I could give a shit. “Leah, don’t fucking start with me! I’ve had a long fucking day. Where the fuck is she?” I ask in as quiet of a voice as I can manage, which isn’t much right now.

  “She left.”

  “What? Why?”

  Leah starts to step back, so I take a step toward her, keeping the distance between us at a minimum. “Tell me,” I hiss.

  Her face reddens and she won’t meet my gaze. “So, she was showing Adam the club…”

  Instantly, I feel the anger pulsing through my fists. “And?”

  “And Kiera came over because she was jealous of Sydney. I wasn’t there for that part, but Sydney ended up telling Kiera that you, Drew Forrester, were her date and Kiera laughed in her face.”

  The anger in me turns to a lead brick of fear and plummets into my suddenly queasy stomach.

  “Sydney got mad and asked Kiera what was so funny and one thing led to another…”

  “She told her, didn’t she?” I croak, clutching my middle as if kicked in the gut.

  “No, she showed her on her cell phone. Pictures of you, Andrew Forrester the movie star, on the red carpet.”

  I feel sick. Destroyed. As if my entire future just vanished from existence and left behind a gaping black hole.

  “Where is she?”

  “I don’t know. She’s not answering her phone,” Leah says in a desperate voice.

  “Where’s Reynolds?” I snarl.

  “Drew, don’t. It’s not worth it.”

  Leah tries to hold me back by grabbing my arm but gives up when she sees my face. It takes me only a few minutes to find that douchebag, talking with Kiera Radcliffe by the bar.

  They both notice me at the same time, their heads turning toward me in sync. Adam looks surprised, Kiera looks equally stunned. “Reynolds!” I yell as I storm up to them, getting within an inch of his stupid face.

  His shocked expression turns cynical in the time it takes for me to say his name. ‘Forrester,” he says in a cold voice.

  I turn to look at Kiera, half hiding behind Reynolds like the cowardly bitch that she is. I stab my finger at her accusingly. “You! What the fuck did you say to my girlfriend?”

  Kiera is shocked at my tone. Did she really think I’d be okay with her being rude to Sydney?

  “I didn’t think she was actually your girlfriend, Andrew. I didn’t say anything.” Her lips curl up in a self-satisfied fucking smile. “Why would you date a boring little nobody like her anyway?”

  “I don’t give a fuck what you knew or what you didn’t say! And she’s not a nobody, so shut the fuck up!” I bellow at the bitchy blonde. She visibly pales and her smug smile vanishes. “And you,” I turn to face Adam Reynolds. “You stay the fuck away from her, do you understand?”

  That motherfucker Reynolds just stands there with his hands up in front of him as if he had nothing to do with pissing me off. My fists curl up at my sides so tightly that I can feel my knuckles straining from the pressure.

  “I didn’t do a thing to Sydney,” he says in his stupid British accent. “We’re mates, that’s all. She never even mentioned she was seeing someone, let alone you.”

  Then he smirks at me and I snap. “I’m going to fucking finish you, Reynolds!” I move to pound his face in.

  “Drew!” Sydney’s best friend has managed to squeeze her tiny body in between me and Adam Reynolds, preventing me from ripping his head off.

  “Get out of my way Leah!”

  “Drew, we have to go find Sydney. N
ow!” I tear my eyes from that asshole’s face and focus on the little blonde who is pushing furiously on my chest in a futile attempt to move me back.

  “What?”

  “We have to go. She left a while ago. We may not have time to get there before she takes off.”

  ‘Takes off?” I ask, confused.

  “Yes, that’s what she does when she’s freaked out. She runs.”

  “Fuck, let’s go.” I grab her hand and tow her through the crowd, Adam Reynolds and Kiera Radcliff forgotten for now.

  We get down to the lobby and I realize I have no way to get to Sydney’s. “I don’t have a car,” I tell Leah in a panic, my fists gripping my hair to cope with the out of control fear I feel in my chest.

  She rolls her eyes and steps off the curb in her skintight black dress and mile-high heels, one arm held high, and whistles so loudly that my ears hurt. A cab pulls over immediately.

  “What?” she says when she sees my shocked face. “Not all of us have drivers to take us everywhere.”

  We hop out at Sydney’s building and the concierge buzzes us in.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t let you up,” he says from behind his desk in the lobby.

  “What? You have got to be kidding me!” I shout.

  “Miss Allen isn’t answering her intercom. It’s policy. I can’t let anyone into the building who doesn’t have the permission of a resident.”

  I pace back and forth in front of the concierge desk before slamming my fists down on it, causing everything on it to shake violently.

  “You’ve seen me here consistently for the last three months!” I yell. “Now you’re saying I can’t go up? What kind of bullshit is this?”

  “Drew,” Leah whispers as she clutches my arm. “There are other people in the lobby.”

  “Like I give a fuck,” I snarl, done with caring who sees me or what they say. I turn back to the concierge. “If something happens to her, it’s on you!” I stab my finger at the desk jockey.

  “I’m going to call the police if you can’t calm down, sir.”

  “Call the fucking police!” I roar. “Get them the fuck in here! She could be dead up there for all I know!”

  “Please,” Leah says to the concierge. “Let us go up and make sure she’s okay. You know me and you definitely know him.” She sticks her thumb out in my direction. “We’re not going to do anything but look.”

  The concierge sighs and unlocks a cabinet beneath the desk, removing a key. “Here, just bring it back when you leave.”

  Leah unlocks the door to Sydney’s loft and pushes the door open, allowing me to race in first.

  “Sydney?” I call out as I run through each dark room, flipping on lights as I go. “Syd!”

  “She’s not here,” Leah says as she comes out of the bedroom. “But she was. I found this.” She holds up a black and white dress. “It was in the garbage. She was wearing it tonight.”

  “Where would she go?” I ask, my voice cracking from stress.

  “I don’t know. Normally? To my place. But she’s mad at me because she knows that I knew everything this entire time.”

  Leah looks just as lost as me. She’s known Sydney for twelve years and knows all of her secrets and has no idea what to do. I’ve only known her for three months and I don’t know shit about Sydney’s past. I have no fucking clue where we go from here.

  “I want to wait here,” I say, sliding down the living room wall to the floor. “To see if she comes back.”

  “I’ll wait with you,” Leah says, tears building up in her eyes.

  “Don’t start crying.” I choke on the words. “I can’t.”

  Leah sits on the floor next to me and puts her hand in mine. “It will work out. It has to.”

  “Yeah, It’s not looking so good for me right now.”

  We sit on the ground for hours and stare at the door, both of us holding back unshed tears. My back is aching and my ass is numb from the hardwood floor I’ve been sitting on.

  “Drew, we have to leave.”

  Leah has been saying this for the last two hours. Since then, I’ve had four glasses of Sydney’s scotch, maybe five and I’m too tired to move.

  “Drew, I’m serious, get up!”

  I open my eyes and see Leah about six inches from my face, scowling at me.

  “We should stay here in case Syd comes home,” I slur.

  Leah grabs my arm and pulls me up into a half-sitting position. “No, we’re going.”

  I sigh and stand up, wobbling a little from the booze. Clutching Leah’s shoulders, I stare at down at her. “She’s not going to come back, is she?”

  “She’ll come back, or at least call me. Now, let’s go. I’ll call you the second I hear from her, I promise.”

  I finally relent and allow the tiny blonde girl that I outweigh by almost ninety pounds to shove me out Sydney’s door and possibly out of her life.

  CHAPTER 26

  The next five days are the worst in my life. I spend most of my time pounding my fists against the different punching bags at Damien’s gym. The repetitive sound of my knuckles on leather reverberates through the huge space.

  Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap!

  “Forrester!”

  I ignore Bobby as he strides around the cage and heads my way.

  “Forrester!” he yells, just a few feet behind me.

  My refusal to acknowledge him must piss Bobby off because he slides behind the heavy bag and shoves it, hard. The bag slams into my body and knocks me back.

  “What the fuck!” I scream at him, my fists up and ready to strike.

  “Hey! Calm the fuck down!” Bobby yells, holding his hands up defensively. “What the hell is wrong with you man?”

  “Nothing,” I mutter and start hitting the bag again, this time with my shins. Roundhouse after roundhouse, I kick the heavy bag.

  Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

  I keep going until sweat is stinging my eyes and my muscles are fatigued. I unstrap the gloves and drop them on the ground.

  “Are you ready to talk?” Bobby asks.

  I turn to walk away and Bobby grabs my arm and spins me around forcefully. The testosterone from the workout, the endorphins pulsing through my body, the anger, the frustration, the heartbreak. I don’t know which one makes me do it but I swing at Bobby and catch him fully on the jaw. His head snaps back brutally and I see the surprise in his eyes turn to fury.

  Fatigue has dulled my reflexes because I don’t see Bobby’s fist coming at me until it connects with my face. My neck wrenches sideways and a blinding pain shoots through my left eye.

  “Fuck!” I clutch my chin and spit a mouthful of blood, staring angrily at my friend.

  He storms over to get in my face, his massive chest inches from mine. “What the fuck is wrong with you!” he bellows.

  “Nothing, okay? So leave me the fuck alone!” I shout back, turning again to leave.

  “Drew!”

  Fuck! Can’t they just leave me alone?

  Damien is jogging over to where Bobby and I are standing, looking confused as hell.

  “Leave me the fuck alone,” I hiss at them both.

  Damien moves in front of me, forcing me to look at him. The rage that has been churning inside me since Sydney disappeared finally explodes out in an alarming display. I lunge for Damien with a left cross. He feints and grabs my wrist, throwing me down and pinning me to the ground in a brutal hammerlock.

  “Let me up,” I growl.

  “Are you going to calm the fuck down?”

  I breathe in deep and exhale into the mat. “Yes.”

  “Fine.” Damien gets up and releases me from his hold.

  I lay on the ground for a minute before slowly returning to my feet.

  “Come on,” Damien says, motioning me toward his office. “You’re going to tell us what the hell is going on.”

  I grab my bag and remove my water bottle, drinking half of it quickly. Defeated, I sling the str
aps over my shoulder and follow Damien and Bobby into the small room at the back of the gym.

  “Sit,” he says forcefully, pointing at the nearest chair.

  I take his order without hesitation, something I rarely do. Bobby sits next to me and Damien takes a seat behind his battered metal desk.

  “Now talk,” Damien demands.

  I rub my jaw and look at the ground, unable to face my friends.

  I hear Damien open the fridge behind him and an ice pack lands in my lap. “Take this, so your pretty little face doesn’t get all fucked up.”

  I can’t help but smile at his facetious comment.

  “Fuck you,” I say back, my attitude more sarcastic than angry at this point.

  “Dude, just spill,” Bobby says. “We know it has to do with your chick. You were already all fucked up by her months ago. And,” he says leaning toward me, “I saw the shit on the internet the other night.”

  My head snaps up at this information. “What shit?” My eyes flash from Bobby to Damien and I can see that they know something that I don’t.

  Damien types on his laptop and swings it around to face me.

  Andrew Forrester Goes Toe-to-Toe with Adam Reynolds Over Mystery Girl

  March 9th

  Written by Kate M.

  Superhot superstar Andrew Forrester almost came to blows with sexy Brit rocker Adam Reynolds last night at the NYC launch party for Verve, the swank new nightclub at the top of the Warren Hotel. A partygoer tells us that Reynolds and an unknown smokin’ hot redhead were getting cozy when Reynolds’ ex Kiera Radcliff confronted the other woman. The redhead immediately left the hotel after exchanging words with Radcliff.

  Forrester arrived thirty minutes later, looking incredibly angry, and headed straight for Reynolds and Radcliff who were still arguing over the departure of Reynolds’ mystery date. Forrester reportedly got in Reynolds’ face and was yelling at him over the beautiful redhead. A female friend intervened and convinced Forrester to leave the nightclub before any punches were thrown.

  Who’s the redhead that has these two gorgeous hunks fighting over her? What did Radcliff say to upset the unknown woman and cause Forrester to come to her defense? Will it affect the chemistry between Forrester and Radcliff in the movie they are supposed to start filming soon? We hope to find this lucky girl soon and get some answers!

 

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