The Fame Game

Ignoring her, I continue to type my message. Nico Chase is back on the market, and I have to know why.

Willow: What did he do?

For once, I know before the media gets a hold of the story. If I’m the first person to approach Nico after a devastating loss, it might help him make a quicker decision.

Ash: We’ve had a lot of problems with him lately.

Willow: Such as?

The flight attendant snaps her fingers at me. I hold up my hand and tell her to give me another minute. We’re still thirty minutes away from LAX, according to the pilot’s last announcement.

Ash: I’ll tell you in person.

The flight attendant taps her heel hard on the floor to get my attention.

I hold up my index finger. “One more second. This is important.”

Willow: I’m on my way back to LA. Meet me for coffee.

She clears her throat, shooting daggers in my direction. “The captain announced that we were making our descent ten minutes ago. Please turn off your electronic devices, move your seat back into the upright position, and stow your laptop bag under the seat in front of you.”

Ash: The Starbucks around the corner from your house around six? I have to finish up a few things for Vinnie before I can leave.

Willow: Perfect. See you then.

I turn off my laptop to satisfy the annoying stewardess giving me the evil eye, and then she storms down the aisle. No one can ruin my mood, not with Nico Chase back on the market. He could be my ticket to the big leagues.

Chapter Two

Nico

A loud dinging wakes me from a drunken sleep. One eye open, I lift my head from the pillow and glance over at my cell phone that’s buzzing across the bedside table. It’s nine o’clock in the morning. Who the hell calls this early on a Sunday morning? At least, I think it’s Sunday. The days have blurred together ever since I wrapped up with Flashbang seven months ago.

The woman next to me rolls over in bed. “Are you going to answer that?”

I can’t remember her name or how I ended up at her place.

I grab my phone and then lean against the headboard. My heart beats faster when I see Vinnie Sax’s name on the screen. He’s probably calling with more terrible news. That’s all he gives me anymore. When I first signed with him, I’d only lived in Los Angeles for a few years, taking any role I could get. He spotted me at a party in Hollywood and said I had the look.

Every dream I had as a kid, he made a reality. From an early age, I wanted to be an actor. I started with small productions in middle school, and I was a damn good Johnny in my high school’s rendition of The Outsiders. But my career has plummeted over the last few years, slow and painful torture.

Fame is a game. You either have it, or you don’t.

I hold the phone to my ear. “Hey, Vin.”

My hand is shaking so badly it’s hard to believe I have the nerves of steel required for live-action films. I’ve jumped from cliffs and driven into walls, all for the sake of my art. But the feeling in the pit of my stomach right now doesn’t compare. When I’m on set, I’m hopped up on adrenaline, the electricity coursing through my veins. I feel alive and free. It’s a high unlike any drug, a high I chase so much that it has taken its toll on me.

“Hey, Nico,” he says. “Look, we need to talk.”

He never says things like this. I’ve had plenty of women use those words on me. But never Vinnie. He’s a straight shooter.

I sit up straight, my heart pounding out of my chest. “So talk.”

I rack my brain about last night and come up empty. Where did I go after the club? I was out with a few friends at Chrome, getting bottle service in the VIP area, when a group of women approached us.

“You’ve got a lot of talent,” he says.

“Don’t bullshit me, Vin.”

He sighs into the phone. “We’ve had a good run. You were the best.”

“Were? I still am,” I challenge.

“Not anymore. You’re losing your edge. Your last two movies bombed at the box office. I can’t get a single studio to work with you—”

“We can get through this. Give it time.”

“There’s an ebb and flow to this business,” he says, his tone serious. “One minute you’re at the top, and the next minute, a new kid comes along to replace you. I’ve been in show business long enough to know how it works. I hate making this decision. You’re like a son to me.”

“A father wouldn’t throw his son out like trash,” I spit back, my mouth twisted in disgust. “Not after everything we’ve been through, not after all the money I’ve made you.”