Junk

by Komal Kant

  I sprinted after Blair, not caring how this all looked to her brother.

  My hands met the front door with a forceful push. As I ran down the front steps, I noticed Delilah’s truck idling in the front yard, but I would focus on that later.

  Achilles bolted in front of me, just as Blair climbed into the driver’s seat of my truck.

  “Blair!” I yelled, but she didn’t look at me as she started the engine.

  Goddammit! Did the woman even know how to handle a truck?

  Apparently, she did, because she put the damn thing in drive and almost ran me over again as I tried to wave her down.

  Fuck. What was it with her and attempted vehicular manslaughter?

  Rejection burned through me as I stared after the woman who had literally turned my life upside down. It was hard to wrap my head around how everything had shifted so dramatically in a matter of minutes.

  From behind me, a truck door shut.

  “Wade! I-I’m sorry!” When I turned, Delilah was approaching me, distress clear across her pale face. Her brows were drawn together and her lips were quivering.

  Anger bubbled and broiled inside me. I had never felt such intense rage towards my sister in my life. She had always been supportive of me through my darkest times and I had always looked out for her like a third parent.

  This was the most hurtful thing Delilah could have done to me.

  “What the fuck did you do?” I spat, my vision splintering from black to red and back again. “Why the fuck would you tell him about me?”

  From somewhere around us, Drew’s voice was reaching a stressed pitch, but his words didn’t register.

  “I didn’t know Drew was going to tell her like this,” Delilah whimpered, and the strong shield she always wore slipped as tears stung her eyes. “But I couldn’t let you continue hiding the truth from her. She deserves better than that.”

  Delilah had no idea who Blair was to me. The second I told her, everything would change. The guilt and sympathy would fade into an unmuted anger.

  “You have no idea who she is!” I yelled, throwing my hands up. “No idea, Lila! This had nothing to do with you! Nothing to do with Drew!”

  My sister’s eyes were overflowing, and even though it tore my heart to see her cry, I was so caught up in my own selfish feelings that I couldn’t comfort her. I couldn’t even bring myself to tell her my truth about Blair.

  I just wanted her gone. At least until I could get this tumult of emotions roaring through me to fade.

  “You need to leave,” I said, my tone devoid of any emotion. It was an amazing feat, considering how I actually felt.

  Delilah’s face crumpled up like a discarded piece of paper. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

  “Leave.” My voice was hoarse from all the yelling. “Just go.”

  I didn’t bother waiting for her response.

  Whipping around, I moved past Drew and walked back inside, unseeing, unfeeling, dead to the world.

  Dead to myself.

  I WASN’T SURE WHAT BROUGHT me to my eventual destination.

  Maybe it was a pull.

  Maybe it was a calling.

  Maybe it was the fact that I knew if Wade came looking for me, this was the last place he’d expect to find me—in a pretentious museum dedicated to a jerk actor I’d met years ago.

  Going home in this condition wasn’t a good idea. My mom would ask too many

  The last thing I’d expected was to find comfort amongst Harlen Walker, yet here I was sobbing next to his childhood potty—which made him seem a heck of a lot more human than when I’d first met him many years ago.

  Back when I had stars in my eyes and ambition running through my veins.

  Guilt overwhelmed me in waves. It always did when Harlen Walker’s name came up. What I’d done to him still haunted me and reminded me of the senseless person I could be.

  Being around Wade had drawn some of that guilty energy out of me. Connecting with a person who was as disconnected as I was had healed me in the most unexpected way.

  Opening up to Wade and letting him see who I truly was, had been exactly what I’d needed to move on. Yet, even after I’d told him about the lowest point in my life, he’d still lied to me.

  This wasn’t some tiny thing that could be overlooked, like a third nipple or an annoying laugh. This was a deal breaker. A relationship ender.

  I’d told him I’d broken up a marriage, and this entire time he’d still been in one.

  My body shook from uncontrollable anger. Or was it shock? Whatever it was, it felt like my trembling body was going to fall apart.

  I needed to snap out of it. Was I really going to let a man be the reason I broke down? A man I didn’t have to see again once I left Pine Bluffs.

  This would not break me. Not today.

  Taking a big gulp of air, I swiped the tears of hurt from my face and glanced around the museum. No one else was here, aside from the two elderly museum staff, one of whom had charged me a five-dollar entrance fee.

  Yikes.

  If the museum worker had thought I looked ridiculous in a flannel shirt and gym shorts that clearly weren’t mine, he didn’t remark on it. Or maybe his eyesight wasn’t the best. Either way, he’d enthusiastically handed me a program and in a raspy voice informed me about the highlights of the place.

  One side of the wall outlined Harlen Walker’s childhood, the other his rise to fame in Hollywood. There were props and costumes from his most successful films and roles. A mini theatre had been set up in the back room, playing his highest grossing film, Pirates of the Mediterranean on repeat.

  Movies like that never made much sense to me, especially why they spawned so many sequels that were basically the same as the previous movie, only with bigger explosions.

  Another thing: Harlen Walker was clearly not of Mediterranean descent. It was strange why Hollywood miscast characters so often. Besides, there was only so much swashbuckling and hidden treasure plots I could take. There were already a hundred other movies like that, and I avoided all of them like herpes.

  Then again, it didn’t matter if I didn’t watch them; they made a ridiculous amount of money anyway, so what did my opinion matter?

  My gaze turned back to the potty I’d been crying next to. What a weird thing to have in a museum. It sat on one of many pedestals that were enclosed in glass cases along the wall. Amongst the protected items were Harlen’s first tricycle, a high chair that had been passed down through generations, and a cowboy hat from another one of his overrated movies.

  This was literally a shrine for the man I both detested and felt incredible guilt over.

  A part of me wondered if this museum delved into the downfall of Hollywood’s leading man, but I very much doubted that.

  My eyes turned to the long bio that was fixed on the wall right next to the potty. It was black lettering on a gold background, the same color of an Oscar. Something about that shade tickled my memory, but nothing was coming to me.

  Absentmindedly, I browsed the cursive text, only a little curious about how he’d been portrayed.

  Harlen Walker was born Wade Harlen Welsecky in the small, rural town of Pine Bluffs, Wisconsin to Michelle and Ray Welsecky.

  My chest seized up.

  My mind was on Wade, that’s why I’d seen his name.

  Blinking, I read the words again, slower this time.

  Harlen Walker was born Wade Harlen Welsecky…

  It was like lightning had struck me. I fell back onto the floor, too shocked to move. My head spun in circles. Nausea swallowed me whole.

  This was the truth. The whole truth. Thw reason Wade had lied to me about being married. The problem wasn’t that he was still married; the problem was who he really was.

  Harlen Walker.

  Hollywood’s former leading man.

  One of the most successful actors of his generation.

  Wade knew me as more than just the girl from his childhood. He knew me in the same way that I knew h
im. Because three years ago, I had derailed Harlen Walker’s life forever, and I’d never forgotten it since.

  ***

  Three Years Ago

  Had Hollywood’s beloved leading man just called me a moron? Who the hell did he think he was?

  His wife laughed from beside him.

  His publicist rolled her eyes at me, like I was a waste of space.

  And then Harlen was gone.

  “Shit, Blair,” Norma swore from behind me. “How the hell did you manage to let the biggest thing to ever happen to you walk away from you like that?”

  I tried to ignore her, but it was impossible to do. This couldn’t be happening to me. I’d just blown the one chance I’d been saying I wouldn’t waste.

  What the heck was wrong with me? A huge movie star had stood in front of me, and I’d choked.

  “Got me stuck with the damn rookie,” Norma grumbled, and I could hear the irritation in her voice. “So, I guess we’re not getting that big interview we were supposed to. You realize it’s not just your job on the line, right?”

  The weight of her words came crashing down on me. “I messed up, I’m sorry.”

  “Well, next time you think about messing up, just remember that it’s not just about you,” she sniped at me, stowing her camera angrily over her shoulder. “My job’s on the line, too.”

  My eyes burned with hot tears. “Give me a break, okay? I-I didn’t mean to.” Pushing past her, I turned in the direction of the outside port-a-potties they had set up for the press.

  Embarrassment and disappointed rippled through me. Norma wasn’t wrong—it wasn’t just about me. They would chew me out for this, but they would also chew her out for letting it happen.

  My first real assignment and I couldn’t even live up to all the potential I thought I had. College had prepared me for a lot of things in the journalism industry, but the one thing I hadn’t been prepared for was the way an arrogant actor could make my knees go weak just by flashing his blue gaze at me.

  Most of the crowd had dispersed by now as I reached one of the port-a-potties. The more reputable media outlets had been invited to view the movie, but a small time show like ours had little to no chance of securing something like that, which was why they’d sent me—the rookie.

  And now I was even lower than a rookie. I was an ex-rookie. There was no way I wouldn’t lose my job over this. I just hoped Norma didn’t lose hers because of my mess up.

  Just as I was about to step into one of the portable toilets, I noticed that right behind them was a low, brick wall with an area enclosed with metal fences, the kind that could be torn down easily. There was a gap between the hedges growing along the top of the wall, giving me the smallest glimpse of the outside courtyard on the other side.

  The area had been shut off from prying eyes and was only accessible from inside the building.

  The building I would never get in to.

  I turned to leave…

  It was the giggle that caught my attention.

  Maybe it was because it was such a stark contrast to my own mood or maybe it was just because it was pure curiosity, but my soon-to-be-ex-rookie journalism senses kicked in.

  Squeezing in between the small gap of the two port-a-potties, feeling grateful I’d gone on that keto diet last week, I kicked off my heels and climbed up on top of the wall easily. Trying to be as stealthy as possible, I crawled through the underbrush towards the source of the noise.

  Not my finest moment.

  The hedges covered most of the metal fence, but if I shifted them just enough to the right, I could see into the dimly lit courtyard beyond it.

  My eyes adjusted as two figures came into sight.

  The female was so distinct that there was no way I couldn’t recognize her. She’d been dubbed ‘The Most Beautiful Woman in the World’ three years in a row. Her long, honey brown hair fell down her shoulders in gentle waves as she shimmered in her sleek, gold dress.

  Penelope Walker.

  She was laughing, her slender arms wrapped around her snotty husba-

  Wait, no.

  No, no, no.

  That was not Harlen Walker. That was somebody else.

  My heart was pounding furiously as I squinted at the mystery man.

  Wasn’t that Tom Carter, the up and coming, twenty-year-old heartthrob from that one action movie?

  I couldn’t breathe. I only had a small window of time to make a decision.

  There were two option I had in this situation.

  One—turn around and run.

  Two—pull out my phone and film the entire thing.

  One guess which one I did.

  ***

  I was sure I’d blacked out at some point because somehow, I ended up outside Wade’s door with no idea of how I’d gotten there.

  It was the glinting gold scrap that made me come to. The same glinting shade of gold I’d been staring at in the museum was in the pile of scrap metal outside Wade’s house.

  It winked at me, as though taunting me, wanting me to figure out its secret.

  Shaking my head a little, I tried to get rid of the memories of that fateful day. Not really thinking understanding my next actions, I got on my knees and reached for the glinting gold.

  All I knew was I had to see what it was. It would confirm everything for me.

  Since it was so deformed, I had to force it through the small gap in the scrap, but with one last tug, I managed to wrench it free.

  The twisted gold metal was melted, but not so much that I couldn’t make out what it was.

  It was a golden man.

  Oh, my shit.

  It was the remnants of an Oscar.

  A goddamn Oscar had been sitting out in the open, twisted and ruined almost beyond recognition and I had completely failed to see the signs right in front of my eyes.

  Wade was Harlen.

  Harlen was Wade.

  I had chosen to ruin his life three years ago by filming a video of his wife making out with her lover. My actions had ruined his marriage and turned him into an alcoholic, which had resulted in the car accident that had sent him into reclusion.

  How had I failed to see my past right in front of my face? This version of Harlen was not the movie star I’d met that fateful night. He had transformed himself into a different character, someone I would never be able to recognize.

  I wasn’t sure if there was a time limit on apologies, but I knew I owed Harlen Walker one and it had been a long time coming.

  That was the thing with making a mistake. You kind of hoped your transgressions would never resurface again. I’d held onto the same hope, wanting to move on, to forget that there had been a time in my life where I’d been so ruthless and uncaring.

  No one wanted to be reminded of the things they had done wrong. And that was my biggest flaw. I saw that now, as clearly as if it were written in the air in front of me.

  Wade had to know. He had to know how sorry I was. Sorry for the things I had done. Sorry for everything.

  Taking a deep breath, I rose to my feet and gathered what courage remained before taking the slow march to his front door.

  I never thought Blair would return to me.

  Yet, there she was, still dressed in my shirt and now wearing my gym shorts that I assumed she’d grabbed from the truck. Her broken face was streaked with dried tears and a-wait, what was that glinting in her hands?

  “Blair,” I said, scrutinizing the object in confusion.

  Was she about to fly into an uncontrollable rage and attack me with this gold thing?

  “Harlen,” she said in a steady voice, her eyes piercing into my soul.

  She knew. How did she know?

  My eyes shot to the object again, and it suddenly made sense.

  It was my Oscar. The one I’d crushed in frustration and thrown away with the other twisted scraps, certain that my life and career were over.

  Now, it was in Blair’s trembling hands.

  “Who told you this time?” I
asked, stepping aside to let her in.

  She didn’t move; just stood there in the doorway, twisting the demented statue in her hands.

  “No one,” she whispered, her eyes rimmed with red. “I went to his-your museum.”

  That stupid museum the mayor had insisted on building in dedication to me. It was the last place I’d expected her to go, but I guess that had been her reasoning in case I came looking for her.

  “Oh.” That was the only word I could form right now. Instead, I was searching her face, a multitude of fear and hurt bubbling inside me.

  What was she thinking? How did she feel? That broken face didn’t convey much. Did she know that I remembered who she was? The woman who had been responsible for my demise?

  The opportunity I’d been waiting for all this time. To confront the woman who’d reported the story about my cheating wife. To confront the woman who I’d now come to know as Blair Fonseka.

  I took a breath.

  “You ruined my marriage,” I told her, watching every line in her face. “Bear Fonzkicker.”

  I wasn’t trying to be funny; I was trying to relay that I knew exactly who she was.

  Blair’s face paled, like she’d sensed my innermost thoughts. “I-I-” She shook her head, lips pressing together in a firm line.

  “I had everything, Blair, and you took that away from me.” The calmness of my tone surprised me. I’d imagined this moment for years and the things I would say to the woman who cared more about a juicy headline than she did about the people behind it.

  Yet, now, knowing that woman was Blair, I couldn’t bring myself to be angry.

  “I never thought we would meet again,” she finally said, her voice dripping with the kind of sadness that trickled into me. “Not like this.”

  The meaning was clear. We had fallen for each other with a sea of lies just waiting to drown us.

  “We’re just on opposite ends of the same story, Blair. It was inevitable that one day we’d collide.”

  Blair bowed her head, closing her eyes. “I always wondered what it would be like to tell Harlen Walker my side of the story. How sorry I was. How the guilt ate me alive.”

  She had told me all this back in Oak City. It had been the reason my anger towards her had started to fade.