that. She deserves far better than me fantasizing about her on a darkened beach.
I continue to toy with the idea of going to her room, but I know that if I do, it will only end one way - horizontal. That's something I know that I don't want, not yet.
Believe me, I want Cami. But am I really ready to sleep with someone I've just met? I know the answer to that question: no, I'm not.
I've been with women before, and it always seems to end badly. I like to believe in karma, but I can't seem to fathom anything I've done in my past to warrant Layla’s betrayal. I trusted her with everything, told her everything. She made me feel like I was really important, that we were made for each other. How wrong was I?
I've never felt so out of place and lost in my entire life. These last few days have been a complete disaster. I ended up in Tarah on a whim because I had to get away and get into hiding before the storm starts. This morning when I checked my email I had six different emails from Trinity, my public relations representative at Bold International, desperately wanting to know where I was, why my voicemail was full, and why I hadn't appeared at the meeting with them on Wednesday. The answer, to me, is obvious: I’m in Tarah and want nothing to do with anything pertaining to Hollywood.
There was even an email from Vincent, which surprised me. He's my agent, in charge of selling my image to perspective buyers in Hollywood. That means directors, producers, and studio executives. I'm quite sure that his email was in response to Trinity’s requests to track me down. Though Vinnie and I get along really well, I'm not sure that it extends beyond a professional level.
Turning around to face the moon, I pull my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around my shins. Staring up at the bright white of the moon and the deep blue of the ocean makes me feel so small and alone. But I know I can't hide here forever. Eventually I'll need to face the music. Trinity can be relentless when it comes to me, my actions, and my decisions. I've come to understand from other actors that Trinity is pretty calm in comparison. She doesn't get worked up over little details, and she doesn't do anything to try and control my life. I'm pretty sure this has more to do with the fact that I make a point of keeping my nose clean and out of trouble. I generally don't have to go running to her with every little thing that doesn't go my way.
Jesus, she is going to fly over the top with this story. When Layla told me about this story, my instinct was to stop it. To call Trinity and put a stop to it. But what would that accomplish? Saving Layla's skin? I'm certain I'm no longer responsible for her, her career, or the outcome of this story.
I was concerned momentarily about the impact this story was going to have on my career. Then, in an instant, I realized that I don't care. While I love acting, I'm certain that I could find something more to do with life than answer to directors and the pretentious actors and actresses on set. Is acting really something I want to do with the rest of my life? That's one of the dozens of questions I need to answer.
I'm concerned about Layla, but how can I help her at this point? She really needs help – rehab or psychiatric help. Neither one of these options are things that she will willingly do on her own. I have no grounds to stand on in making her go. The thought of threatening her or bribing her has crossed my mind more than a few times, but in the end, it will accomplish nothing. It is no longer my battle to fight. She needs to make those choices on her own. About the only thing I can do is get in touch with her dad. Get him involved, and he can take care of her.
I know that eventually I’ll need to reply to Trinity, and eventually I need to fill her in on what's going down. Oh, that is going to be a joyful conversation I'm not eager to have.
Before I can register what time it is, or even how long
I continue to toy with the idea of going to her room, but I know that if I do, it will only end one way - horizontal. That's something I know that I don't want, not yet.
Believe me, I want Cami. But am I really ready to sleep with someone I've just met? I know the answer to that question: no, I'm not.
I've been with women before, and it always seems to end badly. I like to believe in karma, but I can't seem to fathom anything I've done in my past to warrant Layla’s betrayal. I trusted her with everything, told her everything. She made me feel like I was really important, that we were made for each other. How wrong was I?
I've never felt so out of place and lost in my entire life. These last few days have been a complete disaster. I ended up in Tarah on a whim because I had to get away and get into hiding before the storm starts. This morning when I checked my email I had six different emails from Trinity, my public relations representative at Bold International, desperately wanting to know where I was, why my voicemail was full, and why I hadn't appeared at the meeting with them on Wednesday. The answer, to me, is obvious: I’m in Tarah and want nothing to do with anything pertaining to Hollywood.
There was even an email from Vincent, which surprised me. He's my agent, in charge of selling my image to perspective buyers in Hollywood. That means directors, producers, and studio executives. I'm quite sure that his email was in response to Trinity’s requests to track me down. Though Vinnie and I get along really well, I'm not sure that it extends beyond a professional level.
Turning around to face the moon, I pull my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around my shins. Staring up at the bright white of the moon and the deep blue of the ocean makes me feel so small and alone. But I know I can't hide here forever. Eventually I'll need to face the music. Trinity can be relentless when it comes to me, my actions, and my decisions. I've come to understand from other actors that Trinity is pretty calm in comparison. She doesn't get worked up over little details, and she doesn't do anything to try and control my life. I'm pretty sure this has more to do with the fact that I make a point of keeping my nose clean and out of trouble. I generally don't have to go running to her with every little thing that doesn't go my way.
Jesus, she is going to fly over the top with this story. When Layla told me about this story, my instinct was to stop it. To call Trinity and put a stop to it. But what would that accomplish? Saving Layla's skin? I'm certain I'm no longer responsible for her, her career, or the outcome of this story.
I was concerned momentarily about the impact this story was going to have on my career. Then, in an instant, I realized that I don't care. While I love acting, I'm certain that I could find something more to do with life than answer to directors and the pretentious actors and actresses on set. Is acting really something I want to do with the rest of my life? That's one of the dozens of questions I need to answer.
I'm concerned about Layla, but how can I help her at this point? She really needs help – rehab or psychiatric help. Neither one of these options are things that she will willingly do on her own. I have no grounds to stand on in making her go. The thought of threatening her or bribing her has crossed my mind more than a few times, but in the end, it will accomplish nothing. It is no longer my battle to fight. She needs to make those choices on her own. About the only thing I can do is get in touch with her dad. Get him involved, and he can take care of her.
I know that eventually I’ll need to reply to Trinity, and eventually I need to fill her in on what's going down. Oh, that is going to be a joyful conversation I'm not eager to have.
Before I can register what time it is, or even how long
Similar Books
