The Scene Stealer: A Hollywood Romance

“Are you kidding me?” she shouts. ?

??I would never ever use someone that way. I thought you knew me better than that.”

Her body shakes on the bed; I can feel the vibrations rattling the coils in the mattress.

“I know, it’s just. . . it’s convincing. Elena said-”

“Excuse me? Elena? So she puts ideas in your head and you believe her over me? What did Tessa say?”

“Tessa is why I’m here.”

Larsen backs off the bed, standing on the opposite side with her arms crossed. A tangible barrier separating us. I hadn’t realized that she was wearing her yellow shirt and black pants. Everything must have happened while she was working. I want to reach out to her again, feel that irreplaceable connection that we have, but she’s distancing herself from me and it’s my own fault.

“Larsen, I realize now that you didn’t sell your story to save your uncle. I don’t know why I believed her. But that’s what I’m used to. You know that.”

“I’m not everyone else, Devyn. I thought we could trust each other.” She begins to pace around the small space, her hand tangling in her blonde strands from her frantic movements. Abruptly she stops and turns to face me, her eyes void of any emotion, and I’ve never been more terrified. I know that this is the end even before she utters the words and I prepare myself for the fall. If I thought a plummet in Hollywood was brutal, I was severely underestimating what a fall from a lover’s pedestal would feel like.

“I can’t do this, Devyn. I love you, I’m certain you know this.”

I had hoped, but we never shared the phrase. I want to tell her that I love her too, but I know that it wouldn’t be welcomed.

“But I know that you love your precious career. You want the lights, the tabloids, the gossip. I don’t. I want nothing to do with it. You believing a word of it today is enough proof that I’m not cut out for your life.”

Unable to hold back, I crawl across the bed, the plush surface seeming a mile wide, until I’m standing just a few steps from her. I reach out, but she recoils, and I feel like a bullet rips through my chest.

“I think it would be best if you leave. Please don’t contact me. I. . .I’m not strong enough.”

With the hollowness in her eyes, I know that there is no negotiating to be had. She’s made up her mind about me, about herself, about us. And as much as it hurts me to walk away, I know that it’s my fault.

I know her, probably better than anyone else. We shared things with each other that no one else will ever know.

And as I turn to leave the room, I give her one last look. She looks exactly the same as she did the first day I met her, except this time I’m the reason tears stain her cheeks.

Tommy joins me silently, knowing there are no words to exchange on my end. As we cross the threshold, I consider leaving my heart at the door, no reason to take something with me that will always belong to her.

Except, after today, I’m not sure I ever had one to begin with.

CHAPTER TWELVE – LARSEN

As predicted, my glimpse of fame is over as quickly as it crashed in. A Hollywood couple is facing divorce after an affair with the nanny and I become yesterday’s news.

The diner is still just a busy, but not at the length it had been nine days, seven hours, and three minutes prior.

Yes, instead of the days blurring into one, I count down each minute and second of my time. The countdown isn’t to remind me how long I have until something remarkable is going to occur; instead, it’s counting how long it’s been since my life irrevocably changed.

My breaths never seem as deep. My steps never seem as sure. My desires never seem too passionate.

Devyn has kept his word about not contacting me and I’m both sad and grateful. At night, I long for the times I could feel his gravelly voice wrap around me as I lay in bed, cocooning my body in his possession.

Since our downfall, I lost focus. School became a struggle and I’ve had to terminate my classes for the remainder of the semester, promising the University that I will re-enroll in the Spring. The representative had been accommodating.

Late night television and ice cream have become my new nightly routine.

The reservations for my online rental have been canceled for the next two months unless they are repeat guests. I can’t trust that it’s not someone reaching out in hopes of a piece of Devyn.

Everyone has been accommodating. Waiting for my breakdown. Waiting for emotional outcry.

“Black clothes again?” Karen asks as I walk into the back of the diner. She and Uncle Jeff have gotten closer since my world flipped around. He’s taken my advice and escorted her on a few dates. I’m glad to see him moving on, but I can’t help but admit that I’m jealous of the happiness they’ve found.