“Oh yeah, it’s true. This foundation has been very successful the past three years in building homes and supplying aide. I was super stoked to be a part of it.”
“Super,” Scott says, his tone mocking.
Julian nods his appreciation, his eyes moving quickly across the crowd as he realizes he has encroached on Scott. He swirls his ice again and clears his throat, meshing the words together above the haze. “Well, I know I’m very appreciative of all the people involved in making these types of events happen. It feels sort of like an oxymoron, getting dressed up, hanging out in wealth and style to feed the starving. But it is necessary, in the end. You have to go to where the money is, it doesn’t come to you.“
“Don’t kid yourself, Julian,” Scott says. “Lots of things come to you.
“Yeah…and on that note,” Julian says, taking the hint,“if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonnaget another drink. Nice meeting you, Amanda.”
He starts to move, Scott vigorously nodding his appreciation.
“Oh, no!” she says,“I’ve got it. What would you like?”
“No, it’s-I can do it. Thanks, though.”
“No, I insist! It would be my pleasure.”
Scott smiles angrily at his obnoxiously intrusive friend who licks his lips and reluctantly hands her his empty glass. “Jack and diet coke?”
“Sure! I’ll be right back!”
She beams and takes the cup, grazing her fingers over his, before rushing gleefully away to the bar. The two stand and watch her disappear into the sea of people.
“Thanks,” Scott grumbles.
“I’m sorry! I just came over to hang out.”
“You are a total cock block just standing ten feet away. But up close, it’s like I just evaporate into thin air. Like vapor, a big, steaming pile of vapor. And I’m not an ugly man, Julian, I’m not.”
“I was bored! Nobody would talk to me.”
“Aw, poor baby! All alone in a great big room of pretty people just likehimself and nobody to play with!”
Julian laughs, throwing his head back and feeling the dizzying buzz of his drink settling in. The crowd around him glances in their direction, whispering to one another as they realize who he is.
“See? You’re making friends already. You just have to smile more and show them you’re a nice boy. They all think you’re a prick because of that cover.”
“No, they don’t.”
“Oh, yes, they do! Everybody does.”
“Who?”
“Everybody. Everyone I talk to about it. They all say that you look like a total hard-ass, prick.”
“Name one person.”
“Lisa.”
“Lisa said that before the cover. Name another one, one that doesn’t already hate me.”
“’kay…My mom.”
Julian blinks, imagining Scott’s sweet mom, the same mom that picked them up from soccer practice every day and made them chicken nuggets while they played video games, calling him a‘prick.’ “She did? Really?”
“Yup.”
“No….”
“I swear!”
“…What’d she say…exactly?”
“I said,‘Mom, didn’t Julian look like a total prick in GQ?’ And she said,‘He does look a little grumpy.’”
“That’s not-you’re the one who called me a‘prick,’ not your mom!”
“To my mom,‘grumpy’ is as close she gets to usingthe word‘prick!’ She was basically calling you an asshole.”
“You’re mom would never call me that, she loves me. You’re just being a total hater right now.”
“It’s true,she does love you, yes. I showed her the picture of you with your shirt off and she said,‘Oh my goodness! Julian’s really grown up, hasn’t he?’ Which, unfortunately for me, is her way of saying she’d do you, by the way.”
“That’s so, so wrong on so many levels, Scott.”
“You’re telling me! Your half naked body is plastered everywhere, all over the fucking internet, and now when I see it, all I can picture is you doing my mom! I mean, what kind of shit is that?!”
A waiter walks by with a tray of wine, stopping in front of Julian with a glossy smile. Scott takes a glass absently and waves him away.
“So what’s the plan?” he asks, ignoring the waiter’s annoyance.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I got Amanda’s number, no thanks to you, and I plan on spending the rest of the night with her after this lovely‘party’ is finally done. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know…go back home?”
“To-our home? Really?”
“Yeah…why?”
Scotts sighs, sipping the wine and scowling at the taste. “God, I want a beer.”
“Is that not okay? I do live there, too, sometimes.”
“Yes, I know. But, like I said, Amanda is coming over-”
“You never said that, you said you were spending the rest of the night with her.”
“And where do you think that’s happening?”
“I don’t know…her place?”
He snorts. “Yeah, right. Some dingy, shithole with her seven stonerroommates and two cats, the place reeking of fucking cat piss and body odor? Not really my style.”
“…Well, okay, so, I shouldn’t go to my own home?”
“You should, because it is your home, yes, that’s true. But it would suckfor me. Really suck. Like, a lot.”
“I’ll be really quiet.”
“Did you not just see what happened in the 2.5 seconds of interaction the two of you had? Your home, with you in it, is cock kryptonite for anyone who isn’t you. She’ll smell you through the walls and start clawing at them to get to you like a rabid, horny, little badger in heat, and that’ll be it, I won’t stand a fucking chance.”
Julian laughs at this and glances absently over the crowd. His eye catches the sweeping up do of dark hair and deep tan against a red, satin strapless gown. She turns, her emerald eyes moving slowly from his waist up to his gaze, and smiles a thick, blood red smile, her tiny chin and cheeks forming a perfect heart. He sucks in his breath, his hands in his pockets clench as he recognizes her. She is the first to look away, returning her attention to the conversation she is engrossed in.
“That’s her,” he whispers.
“Who?”
“Sharleen Dors.”
Scott cranes his neck and peers out towards her. She glances again towards Julian and smiles. “Oh, shit, it is. Good god, she’s fucking hot! Way, way hotter in person. That doesn’t usually happen, right? They’re not usually hotter in person.”
“I’m-I have to talk to her,” Julian says, somewhat awkwardly.
“Yeah, you do. I mean, no question, you have to.”
“No, I mean, Mike wants us…”
“What?”
“It’s just-a business thing. I have to talk to her about business.”
“Right…” Scott frowns, confused. “Business. Okay. Whatever you want to call it. Well, go do it then.”
“What, go up to her right now?”
“Yeah, why not? You’re not scared, are you?”
“No! Not at all. It’s just-weird, is all.”
“Why? It’s business, right? This is a business event. Go do your business.”
Julian frowns at him, noting his friend’s mocking tone. “Can you not be a smart ass right now?”
“What!? I’m not! You need to talk to her, go do it!”
“I will!”
“Well, go then!”
“I’m-not right now…” he mutters, sneaking another look at her as she laughs with the gentlemen surrounding her.
“Why not?”
“She looks busy. Plus, I’m a little drunk, I think. No…I am. I’m too drunk. You and your fucking glass flask and blunt bomb! Jesus, why do I listen to you?”
“Hey, do not blame the bombies! This is all you. And, you know what? You are completely unbelievable. Most people get drunk to get up the nerve to t
alk to women like that, you know. Stop being a pussy and go do it.”
“I’m not most people. I don’t need to be drunk,in fact, it makes it harder for me. I feel-”
“Out of control?”
“Yeah, sure, why not. Out of control.”
“Like you’re going to make an ass out of yourself?”
“Yep.”
“Well, the great thing about being drunk and hitting on women is that you probably will make an ass out of yourself but it won’t matter because you’re a fucking movie star and you probably, if at all, won’t care until sometime tomorrow afternoon when she’s long gone and it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“I told you, I’m not hitting on her. It’s business. And it’s complicated so I need to focus,” he says, shifting his gaze to their feet.
“What kind of business? Like, you’re doing a thing together or something?”
“No…yes…I don’t really want to get into it right now, okay? Just, trust me when I say it’s better if I’m sober when I talk to her. I’ll do it when I get back to L.A..”
“Too late.”
“No, it’s not. It’ll be fine. I can get her number from Mike and set up a nice little lunch date that’s totally public and harmless. I won’t be fucked up, there’ll be no fancy, fucking suits and ties or sexy, red dresses…who the fuck can wear a dress like that? It’s like, supernatural, I think. I feel like my eyes are burning out of my skull every time I look at her.”
“It’s too late, Julian,” Scott whispers, leaning in towards him,“she’s here.”
Julian looks up from his shoes and into her seductive smile as she stands before them with a casual arm dangling her wine.
“Thanks,” she says. “I like this dress, too.”
His mouth opens and closes for a second as he struggles to remember the words he has just said while wondering simultaneously how much of it she heard.
“I’m Sharleen,” she smiles, extending a long, delicate hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Julian,” he answers quickly, taking her hand with an equally delicate manner. “This is my friend, Scott.”
“Best friend,” Scott answers, shaking her hand with more charm than Julian. “We’ve been friends since we were kids. Nothing gay, just friends, although I am his date tonight so, I do feel the pressure to give it up, especially after seeing him in this suit.”
She laughs as Julian scowls in embarrassment. “I wouldn’t blame you, either. It is a very nice suit.”
“Thank you,” Julian smiles, recovering quickly. His mind buzzes, he concentrates on trying to look sober and charming beneath her mesmerizing scrutiny. Amanda returns with the drink, immediately switching into a servant demeanor at the sight of the goddess in their midst.
“Here you are, sir,” she says as she carefully hands him the drink.
“Thanks.”
“Hey, Amanda, why don’t you show me the rest of this dump? Let these old friends catch up. It was nice meeting you,” Scott grins, draping a casual, triumphant arm around Amanda and leading her away.
“You, too.”
They stand in awkward silence, he drinking his cocktail much too quickly and she scanning the crowd for familiar faces. They both look at one another and laugh at their sudden bashfulness.
“This is ridiculous,” she says.
“Yeah…I’m sorry. I-I’mnot usually so weird, I promise.”
“Really? Mike said you were a little bit‘reclusive.’”
“He did? Reclusive? What, like a hermit?”
“No, I think more like a shy guy. I have to admit,I found it pretty hard to believe until now. You don’t seem the type.”
“Ah, well, I’m not, usually. There’s a difference between reserved and shy. Mike thinks anyone who’s not continuously rambling is an idiot.”
“Oh, I know, I totally get that from him. He overloads you with information, doesn’t he? Like, tell me where and when to be and that’s it, I don’t need to know what kind of car the executive drives or where his kid goes to school.”
She laughs, her smile a smooth, white shell against her plush lips. He looks into her eyes and feels himself settling down, preparing to strike. His posture shifts and he relaxes, drawing the subconscious attention of everyone around him. She shifts into him and runs a slow hand around the dangling tendril of rich, brown hair that falls over her left eye as she lowers her head.
“How long have you been with Mike?” she asks.
“Oh, I don’t know…a few years. You?”
“Less than six months. He’s great, isn’t he? I’m so impressed with what he’s brought to the table so far. I know I made the right choice.”
“Yeah, well, he is the man you want on your side. Did he get you into this foundation?”
“Oh, no. My dad co-founded it. I’m representing him tonight.”
“Yeah, that’s right. Your dad is Richard Walkins. I forgot about that.”
She giggles and nods with exaggerated modesty. “Yep. The one and only.”
“Is it true he’s doing another‘Decadence?’ What’s that, like, the third or fourth?”
“The third! I know, I can’t believe it, either. I told him he’s too old but he won’t give up. Most of it is stunt doubles and CGI now, anyways. He’ll be fine. I think it makes him feel young to still be making movies.”
“That’s true, I can see that,” he nods. Another awkward silence falls over them, he flushes and fights off the drunken, scattering of his senses.
“I really liked your speech, by the way,” she says.
“Thank you.”
“It was very poignant. Why did you get involved with the foundation?”
Julian sighs and finishes his drink, weighing the question and answer, struggling to decide what script he could recite without sounding stupid or pretentious in his condition. “I uh-I saw a documentary about the Lost Boys a long time ago, before I got…became successful. I wanted to do something then, but I was pretty broke. Living in a tiny apartment with Scott, working random modeling jobs and waiting tables. Anyways, I saw it and I promised myself that if I could ever do it, I would. And I did.”
He shrugs modestly. Her head tilts and she studies him with a strange smile the entire time, never changing her expression. He wonders briefly if she trained herself to make such an expression or it came naturally, dismissing the thought before it can cause any real damage.
“That’s very sweet,” she says. “It’s true, then. You are tough and sensitive.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “Why does everyone think I’m either? I’m just another dude.”
“Maybe. I suppose we’ll see. Did Mike talk to you about the proposal?”
He swallows a chunk of ice and blinks vapidly while he tries to remember what proposal she refers to.
“The professional relationship…? He hasn’t? He said he had…” she frowns.
“Oh! The beard!”
“The what?”
Again, he feels his composure slip and body tense. He smiles and closes his eyes for a second as he collects himself. “I’m sorry. Yes, he did. Right before I came here.”
“Oh, good. I wanted it to, you know, be casual. The discussion. It’s really-kind of awkward, right?”
“Totally.”
“I mean,lots of people do it so it shouldn’t be. And I was honestly really shocked when Mike suggested you.”
“I’m not gay,” Julian says suddenly, much too bluntly. “Not that…there’s nothing wrong with being gay…I’m just-that’s not why…”
She laughs and places a light hand on his arm, sending a shrill of chills up his spine. “No, I didn’t think you were. But I also didn’t think you were the type to have any sort of trouble finding beautiful women to hang out with.”
“Oh…yeah, that’s not really a priority right now. My focus is on what I need to do and…it’s a pivotal time.”
“Me, too! I totally know what you mean.”
“I mean, I go out and stuff
. I’m not a hermit, despite what Mike says…AndI’m definitely not a saint.”
She smiles seductively. “I would hope not.”
He smiles back and neither speaks for a moment, studying one another. The room echoes with contemporary jazz, meaningless chatter and robust laughter, the clinking of fine dining ware as it passes from one person to the next. He studies her, smelling her expensive perfume, noting her flawless, tan skin, her perfect eyebrows arched above two jewels that shift and shimmer beneath the milky lighting.
“I’m a little drunk,” he whispers, leaning in towards her seductively. “And I have no place to go or be. But I don’t really want to here anymore. And neither do you.”
They stepped out of the cab beneath the upturned collars of thick, black, woolly coats, clinging to one another against the wind and snow. Their faces were turned into one another as they rushed towards the doors of the Waldorf. It was hard to make out either of their features, so the photographer called his name. Julian turned, exposing both of them just beneath the lights, laughing and confused, and the infamous first picture was taken.
They stumble through her doors, kissing one another, still laughing. He glances around the sand colored room and spots their destination. He grabs her quickly, lifting her by her ass, navigating her towards the bed with surprising deftness, disconnecting from his lines, from the scene. Her hands yank at his tie, loosening it; she slips his immaculately tailored shirt over his head, exposing his chiseled torso. She steps back to admire him, for just a moment letting go of his shoulders, and he loses his balance tumbling onto the bed. Again they’re giggling, but only for a moment, then he looks dangerously up at her. He grabs her by her hips and draws her toward him, sliding his hands under her dress, caressing her thighs, hips, her narrow waist, pushing her satin dress up along the way. She unzips her dress and takes a step back, letting it fall to the plush carpet. She is left standing in onyx La Perla before him as if she stepped out of a magazine, and for a moment, he struggles against his instinct, confusing realities. She giggles and crawls onto the bed like a panther, her spine jutting against her skin in a succession of ripples that end in two tiny dimples above her perfect ass. She reaches over the nightstand and pulls a condom, throwing it back at him. He pulls off his belt and finishes unbuttoning his pants, staring down at the young, beautiful starlet with a focused intensity. Julian grabs her by the waist, his pants undone and hanging off his hips, his shirt unbuttoned, exposing his heaving chest. He leans against her, rubbing himself between her round ass as he kisses her spine, running his tongue down to the small of her back and into the dimples as his hands slowly remove the thong.
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