There’s a hum of excitement in the room; nerves amplified as the anticipation builds and the long-awaited video is played in the background.
My hand is drenched in sweat, gripping Milana’s while tapping against my knee beneath the table. The collar on my shirt is irritating me. I hadn’t worn a tuxedo in quite some time and only just realized how restricted this ridiculous getup made me feel. God, I even had to shave my beard to look semi-human.
But it wasn’t just this moment, it was everything around me.
Hollywood.
The place that created Bad Boy Rich.
Actor, husband, father—former drug addict.
The people surrounding me seemed so foreign. A lifetime of memories ago, and ones that I hated to relive. You could smell the ego-maniacs in the air. Each one willing to draw each other’s blood for a place at the top.
I could do a fucking line, and I hated admitting that, especially since I had been clean for almost eight months.
“Baby, just breathe. You’ve got this.”
Simple enough to say but what if I didn’t want this? I had everything I wanted. A beautiful wife who married me on the beach in The Maldives while Katya, Flynn, and Katerina stood beside us and witnessed our moment. Hell, even Barry Manilow was there. Sung his little heart out and made it all the more special.
We have a home that sits on the side of a lake, private and serene with a big open yard for Katerina to run around in. I just wanted to go fishing. Who would have thought, Wesley Rich, fisherman. Fuck, not me. But I fucking loved it, even considered buying one of the local bait shops.
Finally—I had a home and people inside it who loved me. I left this rat race behind and never regretted it. And here, in this moment, I so desperately wanted to escape and go back to the comfort of the life that Milana and I created for each other.
“And our nominees for best actor in a motion picture…”
The names are called out, and then—my name sounds on the loudspeaker.
“Wesley Rich—Riding the High.”
They play my scene; the part of the movie where I scream at the nurse in the mental asylum to let me go. The crowd claps right after, nothing loud, nothing more than the other actors nominated.
“And the Academy Award for best actor goes to…”
I felt all eyes on me, and the fucking cameras on my face. There were five of us nominated, and the reality—I had no chance against these big A-listers. I had removed myself from this industry, escaped to a better life in Alaska. The media had a frenzy with discovering that I became a dad, this time, for real. Not Farrah’s bullshit lies she often fed them. And it didn’t dwindle down, at least, not immediately. They followed us around the world, each time we traveled with Katya and Flynn to somewhere new. It made headlines, but much like anything, people got bored. Or I assumed they got bored. Milana never said a thing, ignoring the stories they conjured up. Phoebe was the annoying one, and pointed out that people were fascinated with Bad Boy Rich settling down with a small-town gal.
I didn’t care.
It boiled down to this moment.
“And the winner is…Wesley Rich—Riding the High.”
The crowd applauds loudly; many standing up and shouting my name with pride. My nerves are in shock, and in that moment, I glance towards the hand nestled in mine and see the emerald gold ring staring back at me.
My wife.
My savior.
My fucking life.
“You did it,” she squeals, as I turn to kiss her, openly in front of the cameras.
She’s fucking beautiful, and each time I look into her eyes, I wonder what I did to deserve her. She’s mine, she’s the mother of my child, and I wanted to spend every day making her happy.
Taking a deep breath, I let go, just for this final moment, and slowly make my way to the stage. Every step I take becomes more and more surreal. Was this happening? I am being rewarded in the greatest of ways for my ability to portray a character. I don’t deserve to be here. I don’t deserve this.
And I needed to shut my fucking demon up.
Maybe, for once in my life, I DO deserve something good.
The gold statue is handed to me. It’s heavy, more so than I imagined, and its weight carries enormous significance.
This is it. My moment.
I may never get a moment like this again, and so—I would do it justice.
“A long time ago, someone told me I wasn’t good enough for anything. And I held onto that, for years. You saw that play out whether you watched my life on reality TV or followed the headlines.
“And despite all that, people still chose to believe in me. Jerry, our director, Nigel, our producer, and all the cast on set. You put up with me at a time when I was at my lowest, and here we are. This award is a testament to our hard work, not only mine.”
Jerry and Nigel stand, an ovation that follows with loud applause and whistles.
“It was at my weakest time that someone told me to fight for my dream. Dreams? I remember looking at her oddly, I didn’t have dreams. I had nightmares. But she pushed me to search inside myself and fight for what I wanted.”
I don’t need to search the crowd; my eyes gravitate towards her standing at our table, wearing a beautiful red dress that crowns her queen of the night.
“I married my beautiful wife, Milana Richland, and she gave me the greatest dream possible—our daughter. This award is the icing on my already-perfect cake.”
Milana is beaming with pride, and I smile back at her, desperate to take her home and celebrate with her privately.
“And so, I thank the lord for blessing me. For bringing her into my life, for teaching me how to love myself.
“But lastly, I dedicate this award to Katya Milenov. A woman who so bravely brought two children into this world. Accepted me as a son, with all my flaws, and till the very end, taught me how to love unconditionally. Somewhere, up above, you’re watching over us. We promise to honor you, make you proud, and dedicate our life to make sure your legacy lives on.”
It was a privledge to spend her last moments with her. And watching her, take that last breath—was the moment it all changed for me. Life is short, and what makes you happy is worth fighting for.
I knew she was smiling down and protecting us—always.
And somehow, this was her plan all along. It’s not a coincidence that Milana stumbled into my life. Our two fucked-up stars got together and created the most precious gift of all.
I hold the award into the air, staring above, basking in her presence.
“Thank you, Mom.”