Mickey lives in the same house that all these Hollywood assholes do. It’s big, it’s white, and it’s fancy as hell. It’s even a little over the top and absurd, but that’s what they want.

It’s all show. It’s all bullshit.

I’m angry and I won’t deny it. I know it’s stupid to show up at his house like this, with his wife and his kids here, but I’m not waiting anymore.

I kept my mouth shut all day. I did my scenes and kept working. But I didn’t stop thinking.

I ring Mickey’s bell and a minute later, his wife answers the door. She’s thin, pretty, with auburn hair and full lips.

“Jackson,” she says, a little surprised.

“Hey, Marla.” I kiss her cheek. “Is Mickey around?”

“Sure, he’s out back by the pool. Come on in.”

“Thanks so much.”

I follow her through the house. Mickey brought me here when he first signed me. Back then, he sat me down on the couch in his living room, gave me a glass of whisky, and he asked me what family meant.

I told him family meant sacrifice and loyalty. He said he agreed. He said he’d sacrifice for me, and he’d always be loyal to me, if only I wanted to join his family. That wasn’t so long ago, but I bought his bullshit, utterly and completely. Maybe I’m stupid for being trusting, but you can’t get anywhere in this world without trusting some people. I thought Mickey was one of those people, but maybe not.

I keep my anger in check, at least until we get out back. Mickey’s alone out there, his children nowhere to be seen. He’s sunning himself, the fucking bastard, and smoking a cigar. In fact, he looks pretty at peace and content, despite the fact that my shit is in shambles.

“Mickey,” I say, walking out toward him. His wife shuts the door softly behind me.

He sits up, surprised. “Jackson, baby, what’re you doing here?”

“We need to talk.” I walk over and stand over him, my arms crossed. I can see a little fear in his expression, and I don’t blame him. I’m a big man. I could tear him to pieces with ease.

“What’s going on? You don’t normally make house calls.”

“Only in special circumstances.”

He smiles and laughs nervously. “You’re freaking me out here, kid.”

“Mickey, do you want to fuck me?”

He hesitates. “You’re pretty and all, but I have a wife.”

“So you don’t want to fuck me?”

“No, Jackson. I don’t.”

“Weird. Because I’m pretty sure you do, considering you’re lubing up my asshole.”

He laughs nervously again. “What are you talking about?”

“I know you want to drop me. I know the studio is thinking about killing Brutally Dishonest.”

He stares at me, clearly surprised, but he doesn’t deny it. I want to kick him in his rat face but I know I can’t do that. I have to keep my anger under control or else I’ll lose it all for nothing.

“Why?” I ask him.

He sighs. “You know why, Jackson.” He leans over and picks up his cigar, puffing away. “Let me ask you something. Why do you want to do this?”

“Be an actor?” I shrug. “I don’t really.”

“Exactly. That’s exactly why I want to drop you.”

“Because I don’t care about this job?” I raise an eyebrow at him. “I’ve done plenty of jobs that I didn’t want to do.”

“But this isn’t like that. Jackson, this world takes sacrifice and commitment. There’s a new guy coming up every single day and if you don’t work your ass off to compete, you’ll disappear.”

“And you think I can’t hack it,” I say.

“You absolutely can,” Mickey replies, exasperated. “Sit down, damn it. You’re freaking me out.”

I hesitate a second before sitting on the end of the chair next to him. He sighs and puts his cigar back down.

“Look, Jackson, you gotta play the game. The studio wants you to jump, you fucking do a backflip. Some producer wants his dick sucked, you choke on that cock. Know what I mean? You have to be willing to get down and dirty for this thing.”

“And I’m not,” I say simply.

“That’s right. You’re not.”

I can’t deny that he’s right. As soon as I was asked to do something that I didn’t want to do, I tried to fight it tooth and nail. Even when the studio tried to give me the benefit of the doubt, and Mickey told me what to do, I just ignored them and kept fighting. I made their lives harder instead of easier, and this business doesn’t take kindly to that.

I can’t deny him that. “But still,” I say. “You said we’d be family.”

“So the fuck what? You said you’d do whatever I told you to do, and you didn’t. We both broke promises.”

I sigh. He’s right about that. I did tell him I’d listen to his counsel. “Still, Mickey, you’re going behind my back. You could have come to me like a man.”

“Hell no, I couldn’t have. You’re not being rational these days. I mean, going to a studio exec’s house? That’s crazy shit, Jackson.”

“So what now?” I ask him. “You’re dropping me and the movie’s dead?”

“No,” he says. “The movie might die. And I might drop you. I haven’t made up my mind yet. But you’re not doing yourself any favors coming to my house and trying to intimidate me here.”

I watch him for a second and I realize that I’m disappointed. I realize that I wanted him to drop me. I wanted him to get rid of me, because that would mean that I’d be done. I wouldn’t have to keep being an actor anymore.

And that makes it all clear for me. Yes, I want to keep doing this job, but I also know I won’t sacrifice for it. I’ll do it on my terms or not at all, but that won’t work. I can’t make those two things happen. If I want to do this, I have to play the game right.

I look at Mickey and I smile. “Sorry, man,” I say, standing up.

“What?” he asks.

“I just realized something. I think you should drop me.”

“You’re kidding?”

“No, you’re right. I’m not willing to do whatever it takes for this. I’m not willing to bend over backwards or suck dicks to become famous. I just want one thing, and I think I can have it.”

He watches me for a second. “A girl?” he asks.

I grin. “The best one.”

“Fine,” he says. “Do what you have to do. But don’t blame me if it all goes to shit.”

“I won’t. But I need one more favor.”

He groans. “What?”

“Where’s Harold? I need to talk to him.”

“He’s on vacation last I heard,” Mickey says, grabbing his Blackberry. “I think he’s in fucking Mexico or some shit.”

“Find out where exactly and tell me,” I say, heading back for his door.

“What the fuck are you going to do?”

“Sell him on a script and get my girl,” I say, grinning at Mickey.

He sighs and shakes his head, but he doesn’t turn me down. I leave his house and head back out to my car, grinning my head off.

I know what I need to do now. It’s so obvious. There’s only one reason that I came to this town and got into this gig, and that’s for Tara. But now this acting shit is getting in our way, so it’s time to call it. I have plenty of fucking money now, so I won’t have any trouble finding ways to make more if I want. I don’t need to keep doing this.

It’s time to sacrifice. Mickey’s right, the things you love and want demand everything from you, and I’m willing to give it. I’m just not willing to give it to acting.

But for Tara, I’ll do anything. So I’ll sell this script, make Holly happy, and get the fuck out while I can. There’s no stopping me now.