The Scene Stealer: A Hollywood Romance

~

The town seems smaller than I remember. Maybe it’s because my world is closing in around me, perhaps it's because Tommy refused to stay in L.A. and said he needed to travel with me. I couldn’t argue that having extra security was a good idea at the time. But now as we travel in the rental car down Main Street, I’m changing my tune. It feels as if I’m bringing my celebrity life here instead of leaving it where it belongs.

We pass the market, the lot only half-full of decade-old sedans and trucks. The bowling alley comes into view and my chest aches as I remember my date with Larsen. Even though she argued we were just friends, I knew that we shared a mutual attraction, but she hadn’t wanted to end up hurt. Hindsight must be the fucked up cousin of Fate.

I spot the auto shop first, one of the loading bay doors open with an SUV up on the lifts. Since my return to L.A., I haven’t even had a chance to drive the Porsche that brought me here.

“Is that it?” Tommy’s deep voice rattles, bringing my attention to the building with a crowd snaking out the door and looking into the large front window.

“Yeah. There is parking along the side alley or we can park on the street.”

Tommy nods, a man of few words, and pulls effortlessly into an open spot just up the road, the nose of the car pointed outward into the street. “Want to make sure we can get out easily if it comes to it.”

“We should probably go in the back.”

“Did you let them know that you were coming?” he asks. I had considered letting Jeff or Cole, who has become a good person to check in with, know that I was dropping by, but I decided against it. I didn’t want them to disclose my plans to Larsen. I know where their allegiance lies.

Checking the clock, I see that they’re in the midst of the dinner crowd. 6:30 p.m. is the busiest time. I’m just hoping that she didn’t work the morning shift otherwise we’ll be heading to her apartment or Cole’s.

“No.”

Tommy nods in understanding and then exits the car, I do the same.

The short walk around the building toward the back feels like walking to my death sentence - a mile-long walk toward my end.

I ring the buzzer on the wall beside the door. Through the steel, I can hear the sounds of heavy footsteps approaching. Then the door opens wide and I’m shocked to see Jeff standing there, an apron around his waist.

“Damn, I was wondering how long it would take you to get here.”

I try to keep my anger in place, remembering the betrayal, because as I look at the man I had grown fond of I want nothing more than to have him embrace me as a father would and tell me that everything is going to be okay, that it’s all just a bad dream and it will be better when I wake up.

Only the slam of the back door doesn’t wake me up, I’m still standing before a man that has an equal look of anger and relief swirling in his eyes.

“She’s not here, son. It’s been a rough couple of hours.”

“Where is she?” I demand, but our conversation is cut short as a car comes down the back road, the group inside recognizing me instantly.

Gripping my arm in protection, Tommy says, “We need to go somewhere else, sir.”

But I’m not deterred. “Where is she, Jeff?”

“After she passed out, we took her to Cole’s. Jessica is keeping an eye on her.” I grow woozy hearing that Larsen lost consciousness. Despite whatever has happened to cause her to seek her fifteen minutes of fame I would never wish ill-will upon her. My legs feel like lead weights drawing me down to the ground. Tommy’s grip is the only thing keeping me upright.

Something isn’t adding up. The report, the interviews, and Larsen’s reaction are all on different spectrums of truth pulling me in their opposing directions.

“I need to see her.”

“I assumed so. I’m texting you his address. I suggest driving around for a bit so that you don’t have any followers.”

In my daze, I nod and allow Tommy to lead me back toward the car, avoiding the throngs of people now circulating down the back road.

Just as we breach the corner, I shout back to Jeff, who has yet to step inside. I need to know. “The businesses okay?”

“Yeah, booming. Guess we didn’t need that loan after all. Come find me before you head back.”

With a fatherly smile, he waves and heads inside as Tommy leads me back to our rental.

The car pulls out onto the street and I hand Tommy my phone so he can plug the address Jeff texts into the GPS. We pass through barren landscapes, rolling hills, swirling back roads, but I see none of it. Behind my eyes, all I see are visions of my angel morphing into a devil – my own heaven and hell.