In Review of Life

“Fuck, what time does the fucking plane leave tomorrow?” This must be the third time I’ve asked, but hey- that’s what assistants are for, to deal with my shit. Besides, it’s late.

“8 am, so we have to be at the airport by seven at the latest. They’re gonna try and squeeze us through check-in as quick as they can,” Thom replies dutifully.

“And then….?” I prompt. He sighs heavily.

“Jesus, Col, were you listening to anything I said?” I shake my head. Thom gives me another exasperated sigh. I really don’t pay this kid enough.

“When we get in to LAX we’ll be met by Mike and Louis,” Ah yes, my entourage. He continues, running long delicate fingers through his sandy hair.

“They’ll have baby-James with them. Then you go straight to the studio for your voice-over thingys,” I watch as he disappears into the bathroom for our toiletries. I seem to have forgotten how to fold the shirt that’s in my lap.

“Talk-backs,” I correct him. The shirt is waded up and thrown in a duffel.

“Whatever. That goes to until 5pm, and then…”He draws it out for comic effect, “We go shopping! Calvin Klein will close down the store for you at 7, so we can probably get a bite to eat before hand. Or during, whatever,”

“Shopping? I hate fucking shopping,” I throw the last of my jeans at him. He stuffs it into another duffel.

“You’re the one who complains his underwear is wearing through,” he scoffs. His bright green eyes flicker in the light of the fireplace. Our hotel suite is really nice- three bedrooms, a living room with fireplace and a kitchen, so we don’t have to go out every fucking night. I can’t handle fans the way I used to.

“I want to get the tyke clothes,” Really. James looks adorable in little jammies.

“Okay, we can do that,” He reaches out a hand for the hair dryer in my hand. We share a brief smile as his hand closes around the handle.

“Then,” He goes on, “You’re to have a late night snack with one of the following: your agent, your soon-to-be girlfriend, Mr. And Mr. Cruise, or Bana. And let me remind you that as of yet you haven’t decided which girlfriend you’ll pick, so you have to decide on one,”

“I’ll have to ask the fucking master of disguise. How did he ever come to pick fucking Katie Holmes?”

“What’s wrong with her? She’s very attractive,” he says that way too enthusiastically for my comfort- it’s comments like those that could kill my lust for the slender boy.

“She’s skinny as all fuck. Too homey for me, like a fucking mom. Not my type of lass,” Actually, I can’t think of anything that’s my type anymore.

“Feeling more gay than bi lately?” He queries thoughtfully. I throw him a grin. I don’t think that really needs an answer. My eyes follow him as he bends over to zip up a bag. I bite back a groan upon seeing the smooth muscles of his ass contract as he stands again.

“Help me zip this one?” He asks coyly. I go to him and sit on the said bag. He zips around me.

“Have you come close to a decision, about the girl?” He questions, his eyebrow knotted in concentration. His biceps tighten as his drags the zip along its’ course.

“No,” is all I can say.

“Well, I think we’ve got everything packed,” he announces, looking up at me. For a moment there were closer than ever before. His eyes are darker than fuck. He gets up before anything can happen. He toddles off to his bedroom, pausing to bid me a breathy, “Goodnight, Cols,”

Juan comes back soon after. The burly Mexican bodyguard was at the gym. I’m in my bedroom when he comes by, so he doesn’t disturb me. I know everything is safe and sound. He and I aren’t the closest of friends, I think in part due to my sexuality, but we’re cool otherwise. He’s saved me from the swarming hordes many times.

Yes I have thought about fucking Thom. He’s too good of an offer to not think about. His trim body is well managed- he’s a vegetarian. I like how he makes me do half the things I tell him to do. I spend so much time talking about myself that it feels great to not have to explain myself to him. I want to curl myself around him, like he’s a giant teddy bear. And then fuck him. God that ass could drive a man crazy. I had a chance at that ass, once when I didn’t care for the consequences and he was willing beside me.
But then I remembered that he reminded me of Orli. Which is why I can’t get rid of him. Everything about him screams Orli, and a part of me really doesn’t care that I’d be using him if I slept with him. The rest of me wants to go hide on an island away from all people for a while. I’m sick of humans. I’m sick of how I can’t forget stupid Orli, and how he treated me that last day. Why is it that you never hear about problems until its too late? I would have done anything for the lad. Now… I just want to never talk to anyone again.
Except there’s Thom to deal with. And filming. And a career. And more and more people. People, fuck. I pad through the dark apartment to the balcony for a midnight smoke. I wonder if it’s not too late to call my therapist. No, that’d be weak. I have to perk up, not whine so much. I shouldn’t have any regrets.
Why is it that I want to shut up, but can’t?

It’s a breezy night in New York City. Cars and people are making a commotion below me, but all I can focus on is the smoke travelling down my throat. What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do? Shit.
I really want to see the stars right now. I wish I were on a cruise, where at night the ocean is just a sea of nothing. A darkness where I don’t have to think about boyfriends or people. My toes are freezing, my lips are chapped. I’m reminded of the opening sequence in “Sin City”. I laugh, me, the vixen in red. Maybe I’ll pick Alexis Bedel to be my girlfriend; she’s sweet. Nah, no one would believe that. Maybe I’ll just not get one.
Yeah, no girlfriend, no fucking boyfriend, nobody at all. Sounds good to me.

“Cols,” I nearly jump ten feet.

“Shit! You fucking scared me you cunt!” I whip around, angry to be disturbed.

“Go to bed,” Thom orders, his hands on his hips. I duck my head and walk back in the apartment. Yeah, no people sounds very good.