The Scene Stealer: A Hollywood Romance

“Yeah, okay. I get off around five tomorrow. I work a double shift.”

“Cool, I’ll pick you up at six.”

Larsen doesn’t say anything more, instead, she slips fully back into her apartment and slides her window closed while I’m left staring after her retreating form.

I follow her lead and head back inside my apartment, enjoying the comfort of my surroundings as I lie on the couch and scroll through the channels on the television. It doesn’t take me long to realize what has me so pumped up, I’m excited for the date. I haven’t been excited for anything other than filming a scene since I was five and I went to Disneyland for the first time. Just the thought of going out with someone that has zero interest in my celebrity status or social level sends a spark of exhilaration straight through me. Even if all I do is help show Larsen that she is more than her scars and help to build her confidence, then the date will be successful. Hell, just seeing her smile will be worth it.

~

My morning is wasted sleeping in and trying my damnedest not to pick up my phone and scroll through the internet to find out if any media outlets were reporting my mysterious disappearance. But despite my desire to stay in the public eye, it’s been nice to simply relax and enjoy the peace and quiet. Or as quiet as my head would allow. I kept conjuring up images of Larsen until I couldn’t stand it any longer.

Freshly showered, I glance at the clock on the end table, 4:00 p.m. My desire to see her is overwhelming, but I need to remember she can’t be a distraction. I’ve had enough of those in my life.

I last only another half hour before I find myself standing in front of the doors to the diner, watching as Larsen fills a glass behind the counter. A man about my age stares at her in reverence, but she either doesn’t notice or pays him no mind. He’s a good-looking guy, I can’t deny that, and probably a far better suitor for her than me.

“You just going to stand there, young man, or do you plan on heading inside?”a voice says from behind me. I turn to find an older man, probably in his eighties, with an arm extended around a woman of the same age. They’re both eyeing me patiently.

“Yes, sorry.” I hold the door open for the couple and then follow them inside.

I stand at the host station but from the corner of my eye, I spy Jeff sitting in a booth by himself and make my way over in that direction.

“Mind if I join you?”

Jeff startles from his reading of a local newspaper but smiles when he sees me standing there.

“Good to see you, son. I’d love to have you.” As I slide onto the bench across from him, he shouts out to Larsen to grab me a drink.

“A water is fine,” I add on, noticing how a bearded man at the counter sips from a bottle of Budweiser. The pull to grab it and down a gulp is strong, but I fight against the urge with everything that I am.

As Larsen sets the glass on the table, I offer her thanks. “You know, I still have another thirty minutes to my shift.”

“I know, but I was getting antsy.”

“Suit yourself.” As she ambles off to grab a few dinner plates, I turn back to find Jeff looking between the two of us, his head swishing back and forth.

“You and Larsen?”

“Oh. . .yeah. We’re going bowling.” In my peripheral, I notice the handsome man from earlier quickly turn his head toward me in surprise. Not wanting to ruin Larsen’s chances in the future, I make sure to tack on, “Seems like we both could use a friend,” though it burns in my throat like liquid fire.

Jeff nods as he takes a taste of his drink and I occupy myself by looking over their menu.

“By the way, I took a look at your car. It appears to be the pick up coil in the distributor. It’s a common problem for those cars, but unfortunately, I need to order the replacement. Should be here and fixed by the end of the week. Maybe sooner if I can get a rush on the part.”

We spend the next thirty minutes talking about baseball and a bit about my career. I try not to go into too much detail because fame isn’t as glamorous once the spotlight begins to dim.

Our conversation is broken up as Larsen sidles up to the table, her hair dropping a little to the side from its perch on the top of her head. I can tell she’s had a rough day and after her emotional evening the night before I’m surprised that she isn’t a walking corpse. I look up at her expecting for her to back out of our friendly date, blaming her exhaustion or simply calling it a mistake, but I’m surprised to see a glimmer of excitement shining beneath the surface, just above the hint of purple under her eyes.

There was a time not too long ago in my life that just the thought of her excitement to be with me would have gotten me off, it would have fed my desire to be someone’s center of attention. But not with Larsen. Instead, all I want to do is cancel our date and send her to bed for some rest.

“Hey, Larsen,” I begin, in the hopes of ending things gently.

“Hey, thanks for waiting. I just need to take a quick shower and change. I smell like grease and fried food. Do you want me to just meet you down here?”

The course of my thought process is broken and cauterized as my mind floods with scenes of Larsen in the shower. I imagine the water cascading down her hair and shoulders, flowing over her pale skin as it cleanses her body. Water droplets clinging to her limbs like the tiny freckles across the bridge of her nose. Just imagining Larsen’s beautiful figure standing naked in the shower has my cock rising in attention. Tucked away in the booth it’s a bit easier to hide, but I have to adjust myself in the seat to keep the sensitive skin of my cock from pressing against the zipper of my shorts, even with the cotton of my boxers adding an extra layer of protection.

“Devyn?” she repeats and I attempt to mask the erotic thoughts speeding through my mind by offering her a smile.

“I’d be happy to wait for you.”