The Scene Stealer: A Hollywood Romance
Page 35
When I arrive at my apartment, I grab the mail and the large box of items I ordered online. Cole mentioned that we were going to hike the river trail outside of Pueblo tomorrow and besides my typical jeans and T-shirts I don’t have anything for outdoor activity. I could wear my workout clothes, but most of those are old ratty sweats.
Inside my space, I tear open the box and marvel at a brand-new pair of my favorite sneakers and a slew of new clothes. I went a little crazy, but after my weekend with Devyn, I realized that I didn’t want to hide away any longer. These clothes are all bright and attention-seeking, the complete opposite from my normal attire.
In my bedroom, I make sure to try everything on, not caring that my scars are out in full display. I set out one of the outfits for tomorrow’s hike and head back toward the kitchen to sort through the mail.
Sifting through, I set aside the bills in a stack, some thank you notes from previous tenants, and a few travel magazines.
Reading the letters from the tenants is my favorite part of opening mail. I get quite a few routinely, renters that have become friends and write to me to tell me of their travels. One sends pictures of their trip to Machu Picchu, another sends me a copy of their first sonogram, a baby they conceived here while on their honeymoon. They wanted to be away from everything and focus on each other for a week. A third letter tells me how he’s dealing with his father’s battle with dementia and another is worried about their son entering high school.
They all have stories to tell, essential memories that they want to share with me and it warms me to my soul.
The last letter is from a Brody Granger and I don’t recognize the name on the return address. Slipping my finger under the flap, I open the envelope and almost drop the letter when I recognize the masculine scrawl – Devyn.
My sweet Larsen,
I bet you figured I wouldn’t find a way to contact you with our endless game of phone tag. Honestly, I thought the same, then I barely made it a day without you and I knew I needed to find a way to reach out. And then it hit me – snail mail.
You asked me once if I had any good memories with my parents. I couldn’t really think of anything until now. That’s how I got this idea. When I was younger, my mother and I would sit on the couch and watch those old movies. Casablanca. Gone with the Wind. They all used letters to communicate. I used to love that time with my mom, maybe that’s why I enjoy acting so much.
Or it could be that it gives me a chance to escape my own world for a little while.
I’m sure you’re busy keeping your uncle in line or trying to balance the world on your shoulders, but I wanted you to know that I miss you. We didn’t have enough time together and I wish that things were different.
I start filming next week and I’m here for another few weeks before I head back to LA to finish filming. They’re letting me do most of my own stunts, which I’m still shocked about.
I’m trying to figure out a way to see you when I get a break in the schedule. I don’t know how, and maybe I won’t be able to, but I can’t ever say that I didn’t try.
I wish that I could tell you how I feel right now, but I’m still trying to wrap my head around how I can feel this way in such a short time.
I’m sorry that this letter is just random ramblings, I’ll do better next time.
Until then,
Yours,
Devyn Dane
P.S. Brody Granger is my character name; I’ll change it at some point. If you want to respond, you can send a letter to P.O. Box 74589 Chicago, IL 55602.
P.P.S. I can’t stop thinking about you, or dreaming about you, really. It’s annoying the shit out of Tessa.
Holy crap, he wrote me a letter. A love letter. And he misses me. With the paper gripped in between my fists, I jump around my apartment in elation. I can’t believe I affected him as much as he affected me. It’s surreal. Maybe we can work things out? Figure something out?
I re-read the letter a few more times, my body sparking in recognition. Running to the hall closet, I grab a stationary kit Susan and Uncle Jeff gave me the night I earned my GED and head back to the counter to write Devyn a letter of my own.
My dearest Devyn,
I begin the letter then pause when I remember what Joanne said before I left the diner today. That I needed to let him go before I could move forward. Then I remember the hike I have with Cole and his friends tomorrow. It’s not a date, but maybe it could be in the future.
Staring at the thick floral paper, I contemplate putting down any more words. Maybe it’s best if I don’t reply, but just the thought of having Devyn think that he doesn’t matter to me is like a knife spearing through my chest. It’s a battle I’m not prepared for.
With an ache building behind my eyes and my heart, I head Joanne’s advice and try to rest. I swallow a few over-the-counter pain meds and settle in my bed, closing my eyes and letting the shadows pull me into the darkness.
~
Everything feels wrong. My shorts too tight, my shirt too revealing, the only thing that feels normal is my old worn sneakers. I couldn’t bring myself to hike in my new ones.
Standing in front of my mirror, I pull my ponytail through the opening at the back of the ball cap, exposing the scars on my face and neck along with the ones on my arm and leg.