Breaking Character

by Maggie Twain

  I pull away, heaving for breath as something I’ve never before felt stirs in my belly. I move back and now, as I gaze at him with an ever increasing distance between us, I’m not sure I’m doing the right thing by leaving. I’m at the door, turning the knob and pulling it gently open. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I sigh in his direction whilst I pray that I’m not making the biggest mistake of my life.

  I dash for my bedroom and close the door behind me.

  With wobbly legs, I move for the basin and splash my face with cold water before staring at my flush red face in the mirror. “This can’t be happening.”

  I turn when I hear footsteps outside. They’re close. Are they outside my door? Perhaps.

  My hand moves to my chest and all I want is for Max to knock … no, no … all I want is for Max to break down the door and fuck me through the night.

  I wait, unable to breathe until finally, he treads away and I hear the door to his room open and close.

  Eight

  Max

  I lay awake for hours, unable to sleep knowing she’s in the very next room.

  I can’t get her out of my mind and it’s driving me crazy. My cock is hardly helping either, the way it strains and aches, and I reach down, give it a gentle rub whilst images of Mel flash through my mind. That big ass and the way my hands sink into her soft flesh. Chubby legs that cling to me for dear life. Large round breasts that crush hard against me. Her clear white skin and the way it goes crimson from my heat. Her fucking hair, so red that it sets me on fire.

  My cock’s so swollen that it hurts but I can’t quite bring myself to rub one off. Doing that would be a waste of prime, six foot five inch, world’s most desirable gangster seed. No, there’s only one thing I need to do with that stuff and that’s to baste it against Mel’s womb. Again and again.

  But fuck, it throbs.

  I don’t know how many times I nearly rise, to smash down her door, to take her where she lays, to finally put my seed inside of her, and this demon to rest.

  Something creaks and I hold my breath, straining my ears to listen in the pitch dark. Did I imagine it? No, there it goes again, closer this time. Whoa, what’s that? Is that … my doorknob turning? I’m still holding my breath, concentrating on every small micro sound. The pause stretches out until finally, the lock mechanism quietly clicks back into place and again, the floorboards creak, quieter … quieter and then, silence.

  I breathe again. The room’s so dark.

  What is going on?

  I don’t know who I am anymore; Arthur or…

  What is this girl doing to me?

  I have to get a grip. My career depends on it. The livelihoods of so many good people.

  I was so close. Before. To plowing her against the wall.

  What went wrong?

  She thinks you’re a monster.

  That’s because I am.

  My name is Arthur Templeton.

  I’m an evil bootlegger, gangster and philanderer.

  The diner music starts and I realize it’s time to get up. I did not sleep one wink. Today is going to be long. I rise, quickly shower and get dressed. When I arrive downstairs the diner’s empty. Mel’s aunt is brewing coffee.

  “Good morning,” she says with that same mischievous grin I recognize, only here, it’s not erotic in the slightest, “would you like a cup?”

  “Best I have it to go.” I glance out the window and see that the car’s still there. A good town. Good people.

  Mel appears from the kitchen in the outfit she wears on set. It’s different from the waitress outfit, less slutty, but it still makes me want to tear it off. She doesn’t say hi or morning but the look she gives me instead speaks so much more. She wants me as much as I want her but she’s holding back.

  She doesn’t know who you really are.

  Dorothy places my coffee cup on the bar, I grab it and say to Mel, “do you want a ride?”

  She smiles and nods. Again, the way she does it says so much and I’m getting the idea that it was really her outside my room last night and not her Aunt Dorothy, which I was honestly beginning to fear it was.

  I gesture for her to lead the way and when she steps in front I place my hand on the small of her back, she’s still my girl whether she wants to accept it or not, and my touch sends a shiver through her spine that I actually feel. I do not fail to take the opportunity to scrutinize her ass and the way it fills out her fucking outfit.

  “I hope you slept well,” she finally speaks.

  “I slept like a log. How about yourself?”

  “I had a wonderful night,” she says right before yawning. She laughs when she sees my car and it’s the sound I want to hear for the rest of my life. “Oh, how cute.”

  “Buckle up and make yourself comfortable.” I open the door for her, after all, she’s my girl and this is how my girl gets treated.

  After five minutes, I’m driving through the perimeter and the security guy looks as though he’s seen a ghost. He’s straight on the radio. A minute later I’m rolling the car right up to my trailer where there’s a crowd of familiar faces waiting.

  “Holy shit, finally, he’s fucking here,” Danny’s got a hand plastered against his forehead and he’s looking like he wants to tear me a new one. There’s also that jackass Dangerfield and for the first time in his life, his hair’s looking ruffled and unkempt. When I get out and open the door for Mel, Olivia thrusts herself to the front of the crowd with an expression that’s fit to cut kindling.

  Mel’s fidgeting with her cuff and I’m guessing she doesn’t like the attention. Well, I don’t like the way these people are making her nervous either.

  I lean close and kiss her on the cheek. “If I don’t see you during the day then I’ll catch you back at the diner.” I bite my bottom lip as she walks away and I can’t take my eyes off her hips and the way they swing. If I’m not sinking my cock deep into that real soon then this whole fucking movie’s gonna crash.

  “Max,” comes Dangerfield’s voice and I don’t turn around.

  “It’s Arthur,” Danny corrects him.

  “Ah, fuck that shit, I’m not in the mood for this. Max,” he calls louder. He knows the rules, so I blank him when I walk past and head for my trailer. “I’m losing my fucking patience with you, man.” Dangerfield follows me inside and Danny’s right behind him. “You know you’re not supposed to wander off set. My insurance premium’s gonna fucking skyrocket. There’s also the matter of who you’re supposed to be dating, you motherfucker.” When I don’t respond he’s about to blow his top but Danny’s quick to jump in with his calming voice.

  “Bret, he’s just being the character, come on, man, you know how Arthur works.” Good ole Danny, he knows the score. “If you want to have arguably the greatest living actor starring in your movie then I’m afraid this is the price you have to pay, so you’re just gonna have to run with him, warts and all, because this is how Arthur operates.” Danny places both hands on Dangerfield’s shoulders in an effort to placate him. It seems to be working some. “Sure, he’s a pain in the fucking ass, but you’ve got to understand that if he wasn’t embodying the character then it wouldn’t be Arthur and then you might as well just have any old B-lister play the part instead. If you want my honest opinion, so far we’re getting off pretty easy. You should have seen some of the shit he was pulling when he played that outlaw, man, it’s lucky nobody got killed. If all he’s doing is leaving set to screw the caterer then yeah, I’m gonna take that, especially when Arthur Templeton’s the kinda guy who’s capable of a lot worse.”

  It almost looks like he’s getting through to Dangerfield because he takes a second before answering. “Maybe you’re right, but I want you to know that I’m about at the end of my tether with this. Hey, you bootlegging piece of shit,” that’s what I like to hear, “don’t think I’m not this close to calling Casey.”

  I snort my contempt at that threat. “Casey can’t sell out theaters like I can.”

  “Are you
sure about that?” The bastard’s waving his cell around suggestively and if Danny wasn’t standing between us, I’d have thrown something at him. “I’d say that off the back of Ice Warriors, he can sell out theaters all across the fucking world. What’s more, Casey knows how to act! None of this method acting bullshit, or whatever you call it. Now, listen to me good, asshole … never forget that I’m the man who tore down the old set and shipped the whole thing two hundred miles north on a couple day’s notice. Don’t think for one second that I don’t got the balls to fire you and bring in a proper actor for the job.”

  “Hey,” Danny holds up both his hands, “that won’t be necessary.” He puts his arm around the producer and walks him to the door. I overhear what Danny tells him. “And about that other thing … just leave it to me. I got this. Oh, and he’ll be on set in a few minutes, killing it as usual.”

  Dangerfield mutters something that I don’t hear because now he’s outside and Danny closes the door on him. My best lieutenant stands and faces me before throwing up both hands. “I don’t know, Arthur, this is some shit you’re getting us into.”

  I flap a hand at him and go to fix myself a drink. “He’s pissed just because I wandered off set?” Talk about crime of the century. “Well, let me tell you this … I’ve moved off set.” I watch with amusement as his mouth hangs slack. “I’m living at that diner now.”

  Danny drags his hands through his hair and allows a second for that information to sink in. “It’s not really about that, Arthur, it’s about everything.” He comes closer, takes a seat and lowers his voice. “He’s been speaking with the director and they’re saying you’ve lost your touch, that you sucked ass out there yesterday. On top of all that, Jonny’s lacerated in several places and if the editors can’t piecemeal a full scene out of yesterday’s twenty-seven takes then he refuses to reshoot.” He takes a breath, he sounds more reasonable now. “He’s not joking about Casey, you know. You might be bagging seventy million dollars for this, um, drinks operation but he can get Casey for less than five percent of that. Well, my friend, there goes his little issue with the marketing budget.” He’s tapping his foot nervously. “Now do you see our problem?” He shakes his head. “And then … to completely top everything off, you come breezing in here with that Melissa girl.” He throws up his hands. “Fuck, you might as well have just told Dangerfield that you couldn’t give two shits for this project. You do know you’re meant to be dating Olivia, right?”

  Fuck!

  I sigh into my hands. “What do you want me to do?”

  He hesitates before saying it. “Let her go.”

  “What?” I bark and step closer to him, the bourbon spills over the edge of the glass.

  “She’s too much of a distraction. You’ve not been the same since she dunked you in those meatballs, she has to go, man, she’s in your head and now you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing. Worse, you don’t even know who the fuck you are.” He sighs and shakes his head. “Look, maybe we can pay her off, her old woman too but she has to go. Is she really worth your career?”

  I’m seething with rage but I manage to control it. “I already told you, if she goes then I quit.”

  He’s grinding his teeth together now. “You damned Hollywood pieces of…” he leaves that unsaid, “I should have become a lawyer like my mom wanted.” He exhales profoundly. “I honestly don’t know what I’m supposed to do with you.”

  Nine

  Mel

  I spill cold coffee across the tabletop and get it all down my leg. “Damn it.”

  “You’re all over the place today,” Izzy’s also clearing away a bunch of coffee cups from the next table. These movie people really love their coffee and danishes and because it’s all free, they take advantage and then some. I’ve drunk three coffees already and they’ve not made any difference at all.

  I yawn, “I’m alright, I…” actually, I can’t even be bothered finishing the sentence. I somehow make it back behind the server without falling asleep. Right now, there’s only one customer here and he’s got his back to us. Surely nobody would care if I was to just lie down and fall asleep. Izzy can handle things until lunchtime.

  “Right,” she scoots up from behind and links her arm inside of mine, “I’ve been dying to bring it up and now you’re going to spill the beans.”

  “Now?” I close my eyes but she nudges them open. “Oh, what beans?”

  Her arm pulses and it shakes my entire body. “Duuurr, what do you think? The whole set saw you arriving with the star of the show and now I want to know what’s going on between the two of you.”

  My heart thuds from the merest thought of Max. “Nothing’s going on.” I wish there was but at the same time, I just can’t bring myself to surrender to him.

  She barks and the noise sounds insane. “Girl, we all saw him kiss you and hello … you haven’t stopped yawning since you arrived. It’s sooooo obvious what you were both doing, multiple times, all night long, so don’t you even dare try to deny it.”

  Ah, Izzy and her overactive imagination. “That’s exactly what I am doing, I’m denying it, so there.”

  “Oh, no, no, no, no, no,” her arm slips out and she comes around to face me, “if you’re sleeping with a Hollywood movie star then I want to know all the goss.” Her accusations have suddenly made me feel more alert.

  “Goss? There is no goss.” Well, other than the fact that he chose to rent one of the rooms above the diner and that Max Falcon is now living with us but, you know, that kind of thing happens all the time.

  “Yeah, right, hey, come on, I’m supposed to be your best friend.”

  I exhale deeply. Maybe if I had gone to him last night then all this would have been worth it. Instead, I spent at least a half hour trying to pluck up the courage, creeping about outside his door, only to chicken out every time I came close. As it is, I’m exhausted for absolutely no good reason and the ocean that pooled between my legs was an awful waste of good lubricant. I’ve never had such an appalling and frustrating night in all my life, having Max so close and yet…

  She sees my face and finally, it clicks, “oh, babes, I’m so sorry,” she pulls me in for a hug, “next time I promise to believe you first time and I’ll shut my mouth.”

  I can almost feel myself starting to cry but I hold it together. “It’s not that I don’t want to, I mean, I really like him, but…” ok, now I’ve started to blubber and I splatter tears all over my best friend’s face.

  She blinks but is far too nice to wipe her face in front of me. “That sounds like he made a pass but you’re the one who turned him down?” Oh, she’s really good at this. “Mel, what the fuck?” Her face right now is a picture. “Do you mean to tell me that Max Falcon made a pass at you and you turned him down?”

  I blow out air. “Well, I didn’t turn him down completely.”

  “Oh, so you made it to third base?”

  I twist at my necklace. “More like first, um, I think.”

  She’s looking at me like I’m literally insane. Then it clicks. “Is this because he was about to start beating Jimmy?”

  I blubber again. “Yes! Oh, Izzy, I can’t stop thinking about it, he was just so awful and he’s not sorry at all.” I can feel it all coming out now. “Jimmy would never hurt a fly and there’s no way he did what he’s been accused of and I just fear that if I were to get involved with Max then one of these days…” I’m too distressed to even think it, never mind say it.

  Suddenly, there’s the most uproarious laughter I’ve ever heard in all my life, and it’s so insensitive, the timing, tone and sheer volume, that I don’t know what to make of it. To say I’m offended is an understatement.

  Izzy huffs and folds her arms aggressively. “Why, I never. The nerve of that man.”

  It’s coming from the solitary customer we have, a man who’s spent the last thirty minutes slumping over a danish and a still untouched coffee. He’s still laughing and now he throws his hands behind his head in some exaggerate
d display of merriment, and all at my expense.

  “Excuse me!” I call over the short distance. “But I would appreciate it if you refrained from eavesdropping on our conversations.”

  Eventually, he kicks back his chair, stands and his face is so far beyond the point of being red that I think he’s about to burst a blood vessel. “Well, well, well, you must be the famous Mel, right?”

  I jerk back at that but after taking a second to think about this, it’s likely that after arriving this morning with Max, people are spreading my name about the entire set. Spreading false rumors, I might add. “And what, might I ask, do you find so funny about my misery?”

  He comes closer and leans against the warmer and I’m only disappointed it’s not switched on. “You are just precious, all this trouble for absolutely no good reason.” He’s still struggling to contain himself but now it hits me because he looks vaguely familiar, his smooth features and the way he wears his grandpa hat tipped slightly off to the side, almost like he’s rebelling. This is the jerk who led Jimmy into Max’s trailer, so I guess that makes him just as guilty.

  I gasp. “You awful man, how could you…”

  He holds up a silencing hand. “I’m beginning to regret that non-disclosure agreement I made your friend sign.” He slaps his forehead, which is perspiring almost to the point of dripping fluid. “I honestly wondered if he was capable of keeping quiet but now it looks like I didn’t give the kid anywhere near enough credit.”