by Lisa Marie
“For who, Kasen? For you? Because your groupie piece of ass won’t be around anymore?” She hisses. “Or for me because you don’t want me to do this. You’d rather I pop out a ton of babies living in the sticks. This is what I want, Kasen. What I want. You can’t take it from me.” She crosses her arms on her chest, and her breathing deepens. This anger is more than just us.
I am surprised by her hostility. Her accusations are callous and I start backing toward the door. “Just so you know I have NEVER considered you a groupie piece of ass. I just wanted to give you tomorrow.” Standing in front of the exit I look at her. “Will you renegotiate? I can do short term but not long term, baby.”
“Kasen, I did renegotiate. I got what I want from the deal,” she states quietly. “Come with me to California.” She looks at me with faint hope. Her expression softens and hope fills her eyes.
“I hate that I have to tell you no, Farrow.”
“Then don’t tell me no, Kasen. Say you’ll come with me. Say you’ll be with me in California.”
“I can’t babe. It’s too hot right now. I just finished filming DIRTY for Christ’s sake. The fans and crowds are too much. It’s going to be months before they forget about me and by then the promo circuit will start.” I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“Stand-still huh?” She sniffles.
“I guess so,” I surrender. “I love you, Farrow Connoley.” I choke back a tear, while I back out of the room and head for my suite. I don’t even wait to hear if she replied. I just leave. She doesn’t need to hear my heart shatter.
Chapter 21
Farrow
What the hell just happened? I look around the room. The wait staff has disappeared, the music is gone and the lights are still dim. I lower my head and sob into my arms. Wiping my nose on my napkin, I begin to console myself. It’s our first fight, that’s all it is. Kasen will come with me to California. He’ll get roles. I’ll move up in the company. It will be perfect.
I sit for a while after deciding to let both of us calm down before I go knock on his door. We have to talk this out. I don’t even know why this is such a big deal. It’s only California. Only five years.
Taking a deep breath, I head to the elevator. Pressing number four, I bounce nervously on my toes. “We’ll talk. It will work out.” I keep telling myself until the elevator stops. Quickly, I cross the hall and reach his door. “Kasen, honey. Please can we talk?” I call out as I rap the door with my knuckles. When he doesn’t respond, I begin to pound it with the side of my fist. “KASEN, PLEASE!” Still nothing.
I turn around and run to my own door, which has an envelope propped up against it on the floor. I begin to shake, and I blink fresh tears from my eyes. Slowly, I sit on the floor and run my fingers over the handwriting. I bring it to my nose and smell Kasen, the man who stole my heart.
I turn the envelope over and open the seal. Reaching in with my fingertips, I retrieve a folded sheet of paper. Using the heel of my hand to wipe my nose, I unfold the paper and take a deep breath.
Farrow,
Remember when I asked you not to scream at the airport? I told you it was the fans. It is, but the screaming brings back painful memories of the night Brayden and Tammara passed. So many tears; Mama screaming inconsolably; and the loss.
SO.MUCH.LOSS.
I have to take time for me… for us and step away from the limelight. The press junket is going to be ridiculous, the expectations are high, and I need calm. I need a place where I can breathe, have picnics, fly a kite, go skinny dipping all without fans, demands, and screaming.
I love you more than you will ever know. I will give you the moon. However, the moon I hang for you is anywhere but California. Maybe in a few years when I am considered a HAS BEEN, when people say, “Hey, weren’t you that guy who did…?” Not when they scream my name like they own me. The only one who owns me is you. Only when I know they won’t come after me or after you because of me, then maybe…just maybe I might be able to do California.
Until then, I know you deserve this position, and I would never take that away from you. Is it wrong for me to want you so much? Is it wrong to hope that you want me more than the blog? That you will see our future, the way I see our future?
Happy. Peaceful. Forever.
I’ve gone to a hotel tonight to get away. To give us time to see each other’s point of view. To come to terms with what we have to do. My flight is at 8:00 A.M. tomorrow. It’s going to take me back to North Carolina. Sergey has a print out of your ticket that I purchased in hopes that you change your mind. (PLEASE CHANGE YOUR MIND.)
I love you, Farrow Dawn Connoley.
Please let me give you tomorrow.
Kasen
I crumple the letter to my chest and painful sobs rack my body. Shaking uncontrollably and through my tears, I look at the door to his suite through my tears. An empty space that used to hold the man of my dreams.
I don’t know how much time passes. Hours. Days. When I finally stop crying, I am lying on the floor tracing the gold flecks in the carpet, and I am still clutching his letter to my chest. I must be a sight. Finally, I make my decision. This was really hard to do. Standing, I slide my key into the lock and with determination, I walk to the counter and pick up my cell phone.
The call doesn’t take long, but as soon as I hang up, I decide to make a blog post about the wrap of DIRTY. Heavy heart or not, I still have my deadlines.
Getting Down and Dirty – Curtain Call
By Farrow Connoley
All good things must come to an end.
Filming is done, and the crew is cleaning up. In a couple of days, there will be no sign of DIRTY even being filmed here and the lazy town can go back to normalcy. The wrap party was last night, and although something came up and I couldn’t attend, I know the cast and crew deserved every moment of celebration. This film WILL be everything we were hoping for. Everything the author wanted for it.
Now that you have experienced DIRTY through my eyes, I invite you to continue my journey with me. I am starting a new chapter in my life, and I couldn’t have even had the opportunity to dream about this, let alone have it handed to me the way it was. I am so blessed. Follow my twitter for details! @FarrowConnoley
MUCH LOVE! Thank you for making this experience what it was.
Xoxo
Farrow
I embed a slideshow and close my computer. I’ll deal with twitter later. Right now I need to pack my stuff and go. This isn’t my home anymore.
At five thirty, I’m heading down to my waiting car. Sergey meets me at the elevator and insists on taking my carry-ons from me, and he hands me my flight information. He has been so helpful during my stay. I wrap my arms around him, taking him by surprise.
With a chuckle, he pulls away. “Thank you, Ms. Connoley. It’s been a pleasure.” He takes a tiny bow.
“Thank you, Commissioner Gordon. It would appear Gotham City is yours again.” I turn to my car and climb in the back seat. Before closing the door, Sergey leans in and gives me the third kite from dinner last night, the one I never got to open. “I thought maybe you would want this? It was left at the dinner table last night.” My breath hitches, and I cover my mouth with my hand. With a shaky hand, I take it and stare at it. Kasen made this for me.
My door closes, and the driver pulls away from the curb. Crying, I wipe my eyes clumsily while opening twitter. There are so many direct messages and new followers it’s crazy.
A new tweet comes up as I am about to close my app:
KasenWells: Thinks today is the perfect day to fly a kite.
I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. More tears. I hover over his name for a couple of minutes taking a deep breath. I click UNFOLLOW and toss my phone into my purse.
“Ms. Connoley, you should be happy to know your flight is departing on time.” The driver calls over his shoulder.
“Thank you,” I answer. I don’t know his name. I don’t want t
o know his name. I just want to get to the airport.
Pulling into the departures area, my driver makes arrangements for my luggage for me while I throw my carry-ons over my shoulder and pick up the last beautiful kite. Opening my flight details I see that I am supposed to be at the gate for 6:30 A.M., as my flight to California leaves at 7:08.
*
Kasen
I left.
I left to get my head straight.
I left so we could stop fighting.
I left.
I reach my suite and begin to shove items into my duffle bag. I know Sergey will take care of the rest for me if I ask him to. I text Christine to get me a plane ticket back home tomorrow morning. The filming is done, and so am I.
Throwing the bag over my shoulder, I open my door and automatically, my eyes lift to her door. Memories wash over me. Smelling her light floral scented shampoo, running my nose to her ear, kissing her for the first time. Knowing at that moment, I was hers. All up against that damned door. Stupid door.
Shit. I can’t go yet. I can’t leave her like this. I scrub my face with my free hand.
Taking a deep breath and turning back into my suite, I find an envelope and my notepad and begin writing to her. I want her to know, to understand. I want her to want everything I do. Wishing I could do California for the long haul but knowing it is just not my reality. I just hope she feels my words, understands our need to be together, and comes for me, for us. I contact Christine and get another ticket back home. She wants to know what’s going on. It really isn’t her business, so I disconnect the call. I am far from interested in explaining anything to that woman.
Opening my door again, I place my lips on the envelope and prop it up in front of Farrow’s door. My eyes fill with tears as my heart fills with hope. Backing away, I press the elevator call button and wait. Watching the floor numbers light up, I am anxious to see if she will be on the elevator when it opens. I find myself holding my breath as it reaches the fourth floor and takes an eternity to open. When the door opens, I release my breath slowly and chew my lip as I step into the empty car.
Sergey is at his desk, although it’s not his place, he does have a sad look about him. I stop at it and send the flight details to his WIFI printer, requesting that he passes it on to Farrow only if she requests it. I also ask for him to send the rest of my items to my agent, and she will be sure to forward them to me. I walk toward the glass doors and stop. I know I can turn around and walk through those doors behind Sergey and be with her. Apologize and grovel, but we both need clear heads. I inhale deeply and get into the car that awaits me on the curb. My rental will be picked up tomorrow. Everything has been pre-arranged.
I arrive at the same hotel the wrap party is at. Rushing through the lobby, so I don’t bump into anyone I walk up to the counter and check in. Looking down at the key in my hand, I turn with my duffle-bag hoisted over my shoulder and when my eyes raise, Sierra is staring at me from across the lobby. Dammit! Her lips are curled up in a coy smile, while her eyes travel over me, hungrily.
I nod and head toward the elevator, hoping that she would take the hint and leave me alone. It closes on me just as I arrive and my shoulders drop. I hear her heels approach me on the hard tile. I brace myself for her to speak. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to see her.
“Everything okay, handsome?” She asks.
“Peachy,” I growl through gnashed teeth. “Look, I’m not in the mood to deal with your shit, Sierra.” I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“Look, Kasen. I didn’t think she was good enough for you. She’s very – plain.”
My hands curl into tight fists, and I clench my teeth waiting for the kicker, then and only then will I lay into her.
“You and I are nothing to each other, I know that. We worked together and made out daily. She laughs, but I know love when I see it,” Sierra admits softly, while stepping in front of me.
“And I also know when shit gets messed up. I can see it all over your face.” The elevator announces its arrival with a ding before it opens. “It will either work out, or it won’t, Kasen,” she says and begins to walk away. “I hope for you, it does. See you on the junket.”
“I do too,” I offer as I enter the elevator that will take me to my room.
After a restless night’s sleep, I arrive at the departure lounge at 6:45. I frantically look around hoping to see Farrow. She’ll come, she’ll be here. I wanted to put it all on twitter last night. I figured she would check in, but I didn’t want to push it then. I’ll talk to her soon enough.
Pacing. Pacing. 7:30 arrives and my flight has been called. It’s early. My heart sinks lower. I begin to vibrate with nervous energy. Where is she?
Checking my phone for the hundredth time, there are no texts. I open twitter. Nothing. I scroll to tweet her, and she’s gone. She just disappeared. I search for @FarrowConnoley and she doesn’t show up in my list. What the hell?
Taking to her blog, I see a cryptic post from last night. I don’t know what it means. I do know that she’s gone. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I readjust my aviators and head to my gate. I stop just before I hand my ticket over and open my contacts. Finding Farrow, I send one last message:
“Thank you.”
I board the flight that takes me back home. Scratch that. Back to Apex. I don’t know when I will be home again. Farrow is my home, and she’s gone.
Chapter 22
DIRTY CALI GIRL
WOW! I still can’t believe that my Big Girl job is blogging!!! I love blogging. I love gossip. I love movies…and I love Social Media. I still love my books, but I don’t have much time for them anymore.
I’m lonely. I’m sad. For reasons I am not ready to share. Maybe one day I will, it’s just not the right time.
I’ve turned into a coffee addict, and I am a pro at the metro. Want to get anywhere in LA? I can get you there.
Hollywood is different. I need Skittles.
Totally random. Totally me.
XO Farrow
The past four weeks has flown by. I am so busy at Entertainer Insider, I don’t have time to feel the pain during the day, but as soon as I come home it hurts SO BAD. I miss him. His smell is gone from his note that continues to bring me pain. I can’t throw it away. Both the note and the unfolded kite wait for me on my bed with the crumpled tissues from this morning.
I haven’t unpacked, I can’t this isn’t my home. This was supposed to be OUR home. I stupidly assumed it would be our home. Now it’s my prison. Why did I sign the contract without talking to him? This is my fault.
Climbing into my unmade bed, in my work clothes and shoes, I hug the envelope close to my chest and scroll through the pictures on my cell phone. Pictures of Raven Rock, our interlocked fingers, him kissing my hand after a lovemaking session. Why do I do this to myself? I toss my phone to the floor and sob into my pillow.
My phone beeps.
A TEXT! It’s a text! Please let it be from Kasen. Please let ‘Thank you’ not be the last thing he says to me. Please. Please. Please.
Dropping to the floor, I frantically attempt to locate my phone. Looking under the bed, I near a panic attack when it’s not where I thought it would be. I reach behind me and remove my shoe throwing it across the room in frustration, when my phone beeps again. Looking down and to my left, I see it poking out from under the small nightstand beside my bed.
Two messages. Swiping the screen, I see both texts are from my supervisor, Thomas. He wants to meet for coffee in the morning to discuss the upcoming junket tour of DIRTY. A small piece of me wants to do this, the larger piece of me shatters at the thought. With shaky hands I reply.
“Coffeebean and Tealeaf?”
Moments later his response is a simple, “Yes.”
Climbing back into bed with my note and my kite, I cry myself to sleep again. Wondering how I did this to myself. I gave up OUR tomorrow for MY future. How could I have been so selfish?
Eight A.M., and I arrive at the coffee shop. Walking in, I see Thomas in the corner by the large window with two coffees. Plastering a fake smile on my face, I walk up to him and act truly happy to see him. Act like my life is going exactly as planned.
“Good morning, Thomas! How are you today?” That may have been too bright. He’s going to see right through my façade.
Standing, Thomas pulls out my chair. “Good morning, Farrow. I’m glad you could come.”
We both sit and Thomas passes a coffee to me. Glorious black coffee. I inhale deeply.
“Thank you,” I offer and take a tentative sip, testing the temperature.
“So, I’m not going to beat around the bush here,” he states while putting his own coffee down on the table. “The DIRTY press junket is coming through town in a week and a half. This is where we sit down with directors and actors to ask them about the movie, favorite parts, what it was like working with each other etc.”
My face begins to tingle and my smile drops. I take another sip of my coffee as I try to keep the tears at bay.
“We want,” Thomas pauses, rubbing his temples. “I want you to run the show. You ask anything you want, you take whatever pictures you want. DIRTY is yours. You know it inside and out. You are going to be able to ask the questions that no other journalist will think of.”
“What if I don’t want to do it, Thomas? I mean, I’m working on some major projects right now, and I don’t want to jeopardize those.” I begin to ramble and I plead with my eyes, hoping that he will understand.
“Farrow, you started DIRTY and you will see it through until the release. ANYTHING that comes up DIRTY, you will be getting that assignment and anything else you are working on can be put on hold.”
“What if I had a falling out with a cast member?” I whisper.