Gratifying Lines

by Breena Wilde

  “Have you seen John?” she asks, giggling. “Not Zane, but Cruze.” She blinks and gulps down the rest of her drink. “Cruze,” she says again. “Such a weird fucker. I can never figure him out.” I can’t help but feel sorry for her. She’s beautiful. To everyone reading the tabloids she appears to have it all—the job, the guy, the looks—but she’s actually a sad person. I realize I’ve seen her laugh, but I’ve never seen her truly happy.

  I guess she only knows how to act happy when the cameras are rolling. Maybe I need to do the same, except I’ll pretend they’re always on so I’ll always be happy.

  What a heap of bullshit.

  I pour myself a shot and knock it back quickly. “No,” I finally say, shaking my head and enjoying the burn of the vodka. Her empty glass nearly falls from her hand. I take it. “I don’t know where anyone is.”

  “Cept me,” she whispers.

  “Yes.” I place the glass on a table and turn back to her. “Where’s your other shoe?” I ask, trying to control my emotions by plastering a smile on my face.

  “Huh?” She looks down and ends up toppling head first to the floor. “Ouch.” She rolls on her back. I step over and kneel down.

  “You’re wasted, Scarlett.”

  “Ya think?” She laughs again and then starts to cry.

  “Hey. Hey. You’re going to be all right. Want me to call you a cab?”

  She closes her eyes. A small drop of blood leaks from her nose. I grab a cocktail napkin and dab it.

  “Have you ever been in love?” Scarlett opens her eyes. Giant tears leak down the sides of her face.

  I ponder the question. The real answer is yes, but do I want to share it? Scarlett bites her bottom lip and lets out a sob. Obviously whatever she and I talk about she won’t remember, so I sit on my butt and pull her head into my lap. There’s a glass of melting ice on a table near me. I grab a piece of ice and run it along her forehead. “That feels nice,” she says and smiles.

  The ice melts and I take another.

  “Love?” she asks, catching my gaze and holding it.

  “Yes,” I admit.

  “Who?” She tries to touch my nose with a finger and ends up poking me in the cheek with one of her fake red fingernails. “Cruze?” she continues, and then laughs.

  “I care about him,” I say. “But no. I don’t love him.”

  Her smile turns into a frown. “I’ve never been in love. I have no idea what it feels like. I act like I know, but I don’t.” She jabs her long nail into my chest. “Does it do something to your heart?”

  I can’t help but laugh. “Love breaks your heart. Slowly. Deliberately, and without remorse. Love hurts, Scarlett. You’re aren’t missing a fucking thing.” I sound cynical.

  She pouts. “I still think it would be wonderful. To have my heart hurt for someone. To feel something real, something big like love.” She tries to move. Her head lobs from side to side and falls back into my lap. “Fuck me, I’m drunk.”

  “No shit, Scar.” I pull my cell from my purse and dial a cab company. “I’m calling you a cab,” I say as my phone rings.

  She grabs my phone and hangs up, then dials another number with such dexterity I can hardly believe this wasted woman has the skills.

  I wait a few moments.

  “Hello, this is Scarlett. I need you to come up to VIP B and carry me to the car. I also need you to find my damn shoe.” She ends the call and hands my phone back to me. “Vince is coming. He’ll get me home safe.”

  “Is that one of your friends?”

  She closes her eyes and shrugs. “He’s my driver. I guess he’s a friend.”

  I sigh faintly.

  “You love John Zane, don’t you?” she asks, her voice quiet, a little wistful even.

  I think about denying it, but there’s no point. She won’t remember.

  “Yes. Very much.”

  “I’m sorry. He isn’t the settling type. I heard it has something to do with him being married before.” She hiccups.

  I’m stunned. “He was married?”

  “Yeah.” She rolls onto her side. “Don’t feel bad about loving him. Every woman he meets either falls for him or wants to fuck him. I went down that road once.”

  I’m scared to ask, but do. “You and Zane were together?”

  “Psssssh. No. We made out once. I wanted to fuck him, but the paparazzi caught us. I think he regretted it. I’m not his type.” She takes a deep breath.

  “You know his type?” Who knew Scarlett could be such a wealth of information.

  “I’m tired,” she says without answering my question. She closes her eyes and falls asleep.

  “Me too,” I whisper.

  Chapter 6

  Cruze

  I hear someone come in to the VIP room and can’t help but wonder who it could be. Everyone has gone downstairs to dance except Jessica, Scarlett, and me. Scarlett is wasted and so fucking drunk she’s walking around the room like a zombie. Jessica is with me.

  “Oooh, your cock is so big, Mr. Cruze.”

  For some reason the fact that she’s calling me Mr. Cruze instead of John or Cruze has me whipped up in a fucking frenzy. It may also be that I’m fucking her only fifteen feet from Scarlett. Unless she just left.

  I place a hand over Jessica’s mouth and she bites my finger. It makes me gasp. I have Jessica bent over the small sink where the waiters dump unfinished drinks and ice. There’s a heavy black curtain between the two of us, and whoever is on the other side. I hear whispering and know it’s a female she’s talking to. It could be the waitress. If she starts to clean up, Jessica and I will be exposed.

  And I wonder if that’s a bad thing.

  “Mr. Cruze, fuck me harder.”

  I wrap my hands more tightly around Jessica’s small waist and shove deeper inside her. A small part of me wants someone to catch us. I know Jessica is Cadence’s friend and roommate. Her catching us or finding out we fucked would hurt her, and I want to hurt her. Because I’m hurting. No one turns down John Cruze. No one. Especially since she’s the first girl I’ve ever had feelings for. I love her.

  I love her so much!

  Jessica can tell I’m not into it anymore. She reaches between her legs and squeezes my balls delicately, just enough to make me groan. That brings me back to what I’m doing. I lean over and take her tits in my hands. She presses her head against my naked shoulder and we watch each other, fucking, in the mirror.

  Jessica puts her hands around my neck, making her small tits perky. I squeeze her nipples and she moans, turning and kissing my neck.

  She and I look good together. She’s so gorgeous she could be an actress or a model.

  “Rub my clit, Mr. Cruze,” she says, watching me in the mirror.

  I comply, moving one had from a tit. As soon as my finger starts to massage she moans louder.

  “I’m coming. I’m coming!” Her ass presses harder against my hips. She tilts them further into me and I feel her shudder her orgasm.

  I stop massaging and continue to slam into her. “You’re so fucking wet. God, you feel good.” I close my eyes and imagine my dick is inside Cadence. That sends me over the edge. I press into Jessica one last time and release my orgasm.

  “Nice.”

  I turn at the same time as Jessica. Cadence is standing there.

  She doesn’t even look at me. Her focus is wholly on Jessica. “Thanks for coming to my party.” She lets the curtain fall back and is gone.

  I pull out, desperate to run after her. To tell her I’m sorry and ask her forgiveness. But I don’t. It isn’t what a leading actor does.

  “Shit.” Jessica quickly cleans herself up with water and paper towels and does what I’m too damn cocky to do. She runs after Cadence.

  “Cadence. Wait up. Shit! Cadence, I’m sorry.”

  I pull up my pants, button my shirt, and run my fingers through my hair. “I’ve got to step up my game.”

  Chapter 7

  Cadence

  God, people are
assholes. Jessica and Cruze? Fucking? That was an image I didn’t need to see. Where was a brain scrubber when I needed one? Not that I cared, necessarily. I didn’t. I shouldn’t. It was just that Cruze was fucking Jessica. My roommate and the closest thing I had to family.

  Still, it shouldn’t matter. I didn’t have dibs on him.

  I just hadn’t been prepared.

  Besides, Cruze came to the party with Scarlett. I thought they were together. I think Scarlett believes they are. Shit. Hollywood is a fucked up place.

  I take the elevator down to the main floor and push through the crowd. Someone grabs my ass. I turn around and see a guy giving me the “let’s fuck” look. It’s all I can do not to curse the asshole out.

  As soon as I’m free of the club I take a deep breath. The air is surprisingly clear. The moon shines from its post in the sky. I need to call my limo. I pull out my phone and dial.

  “This is Cadence Norton. I’m ready and standing out front.” When I hang up I see a bench next to a bus stop. I walk over and sit.

  There’s an older woman in a large overcoat also sitting there. She looks over. Her face is dirty. Her hair is a ratty mess. I take all the cash I have in my wallet, eighty-seven bucks, and hand it to her.

  “Here.” She gives me a strange look.

  “What do you want?” There are a few teeth missing from her mouth, making her speak with a lisp.

  “I want you to get a good meal.” The words come out angry. I breathe deeply. “Nothing,” I say, pushing the money into her greasy hand. I get up and walk by. She grabs my hand.

  “Thank you, Miss. I’m sure your parents are so proud. You’re obviously a good girl.”

  I want to snort at the words. My mom probably would’ve told me I was stupid and my dad would’ve already hit me up for whatever money I had. I don’t say that, though. I smile. “Yeah, they are.”

  The limo pulls up to the curb. My driver gets out and opens the door. I climb in. He’s just about to close it when Jessica bursts through the doors to the club. “Cadence. Wait.”

  I want to tell my driver to close the door and leave her, but then she won’t have another way to get home. I can’t do that to her.

  “Fuck. Get in,” I shout.

  She physically sighs with relief. The driver holds the door wide for her. Jessica climbs in and sits across from me.

  I look away, trying to figure out why I’m hurt. Did I expect her to ask my permission? That was stupid.

  “Cade,” she whispers after the limo pulls from the curb and starts down Ventura Boulevard.

  I force myself to look at her. “What?” It looks like she’s about to cry. I don’t want that.

  “I’m sorry,” she says.

  I roll my shoulders back. Obviously I’m taking out my hurt on her. “Me too,” I say and swallow.

  She moves to sit beside me. “I can tell by the look on your face that you’re devastated. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I swear. I thought you and Cruze weren’t a thing anymore. If I knew your true feelings, I wouldn’t have done it. I swear.” She crosses her arms and waits. I realize she thinks I’m going to yell.

  “You thought right. Cruze and me aren’t a thing. It just… surprised me. I didn’t expect it. When I heard people fucking behind the curtain, you and Cruze were the last two people I expected to see. I was shocked, that’s all. I’m sorry I got upset. I’m just… sad. My birthday didn’t turn out the way I’d hoped.”

  She reaches out and wraps her arms around my shoulders. “Want to talk about it?”

  “Not really,” I say, forcing a smile.

  The driver stops in front of Jessica’s apartment. He opens the door. Jessica moves to climb out. I grab hold of her dress, overcome by guilt. I don’t want to leave her here. She’s all I have left. “Did you want to stay with me?” I ask. “We could be roomies at my house.”

  She pauses, looks back. A bright smile fills her face. “Thanks Cade, but I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I wasn’t here. This is where I belong. It’s where I’m happy. You survived in this place, but it isn’t for you. Maybe I’ll come visit you sometime.”

  It feels like she’s saying good-bye. “You’re welcome at my house anytime. Next weekend?”

  She smiles, but it’s a sad smile. “I appreciate the offer, but I hope not. Make a life for yourself. Become the woman you always dreamed of being. You have everything you need. I’ll be fine.” She climbs back in and gives me another hug. I cling to her.

  “I don’t want to lose you,” I whisper.

  “I’ll be here if you need me.” She pulls away and steps from the limo.

  The driver closes the door. Jessica waves from the sidewalk, watching. Several of our mutual acquaintances come over and begin talking animatedly. A couple of them try to peer into the limo windows.

  Sadness is about to swallow me. I am truly alone.

  Zane, my insides cry. The scent of his skin, the many ways his fingers work their magic on me, and his glorious face flicker through my mind. Taunting me. He said he doesn’t want me.

  “You ready?” the driver asks.

  I lean back in the chair. “Yes. Take me home.”

  Chapter 8

  Cruze

  Monday morning I go into work with every intention of ignoring Scarlett and laying the sorrow on thick for Cadence. I want her to understand how badly I feel. It’s a partial act, and I’m a damn good actor.

  But she won’t even look at me.

  She’s all smiles for Mindy, the makeup artist, as well as Nigel, the director, and even chats with Scarlett. They hug.

  What the fuck?

  She doesn’t look at me once or even acknowledge my presence. It’s annoying.

  Scarlett isn’t talking to me either, except when we’re doing a scene. I get the feeling she’s mad and wonder if Cadence told her I was with Jessica. Damn, the drama in my life is better than most movies.

  “John, are you prepared to run the next scene?” Nigel asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.

  I turn, noticing Cadence is walking away. She’s wearing a pair of gray pants that makes her ass look amazing. A gray silk shirt is tucked into the low waist. Her hair is pulled into a messy bun. There are two black pencils… or no, chopsticks crisscrossing in it. She looks so goddamn hot I feel myself start to get hard.

  “Of course,” I say, my voice hoarse. I clear my throat. “My lines are memorized.”

  The next scene in the film is crucial. It’s where I cross into the supernatural world to search for the love of my life, my leading lady. Scarlett’s character. The scene is being filmed in front of a green screen. I’ll be acting with my wannabe partner, a ghost with an English accent who lives in the supernatural realm but has crossed over to help my character. I’ve seen drawings of her. She’s cute. The voice actor is Emma Wattingston. Her speaking parts have already been recorded, so at least I’ll have her responses to react to. That should help.

  Once I cross over into the supernatural world there’s supposed to be a lot of ghostly creatures wandering around a futuristic looking Grand Central Station. There are extra large drawings of what the CG effects will look like off to the right. I’ve studied them in an effort to get into character, to get a feel for where I am.

  “Excellent. Places everybody.”

  I walk over to the taped X on the floor.

  An assistant steps in front of camera two. “Scene one-twenty-seven, take one.” She slaps the slate and steps out of the way.

  “Action.”

  Chapter 9

  Cadence

  I watch Cruze film his scene. He’s talking to a microphone that will be his ghostly partner. She’ll be CGed in later. I’m impressed with how well he acts. I can almost see the apparition as Cruze’s character speaks to her. Scarlett makes a quick appearance near the end of the scene as John’s character “crosses” to the other side. She’s dangling from a harness hanging from the ceiling so it looks like she’s floating. Scarlett shouts, “Help me!” and then is
whisked out of the shot.

  John’s character runs up a set of stairs after her. “Wait! Don’t go. Stop!” The scene is intense; even without the actual effects I get a feel for what the scene will look like finished.

  Movie making is magic. There’s no other way to describe it. I’m surprised by how much I enjoy being a part of it. Definitely not the acting. I still have no desire to be in front of the camera. People like John and Scarlett are perfect at their jobs. And they’re incredibly good. Working behind the scene is awesome.

  Nigel has Cruze and Scarlett run the scene twice more. On the third take it’s perfect. Even I can see it. Nigel seeks me out. I give him thumbs up. I think he’s pleasantly surprised at how seriously I’m taking my job. I know he’s pleased.

  “Let’s take an hour for lunch and then we’ll move on. Great job, people,” Nigel says, climbing out of his chair, handing some papers to his assistant and walking away.

  I stand, grabbing my copy of the script. It helps if I take notes during a scene. I review my notes at night. Mindy, the makeup artist, comes over to me.

  “Hey, what are you doing for lunch?”

  I shrug. “The Botanical? Their tomato basil soup is so good.”

  Mindy laughs. “Agreed. Did you want me to order for you?” She’s taken it upon herself to help me out and I’ve appreciated it.

  “Nah. I think I’ll go. I want to look over the notes from the scenes we’ve filmed so far today.”

  “Okay.” She starts to walk away.

  “You want to come with me?” I ask, hesitant. We aren’t really friends, at least, not yet. She seems nice. And I know she likes Lincoln and is missing him. They say misery loves company. Since Lincoln is wherever Zane is, Mindy and I might as well be miserable together.

  “Sure,” she says, her face brightening.

  Cruze walks over to us. “You two going someplace for lunch?” I get the sense he’s trying to apologize for fucking Jessica at the party, but I certainly don’t want to discuss it over a meal with Mindy there. Truthfully, I don’t want to discuss it at all. Maybe that’s bad. Maybe he thinks I led him on. I didn’t. And he shouldn’t feel that way. I mean, he better not. I don’t hate him. At some point I think he and I could be friends.