***
"Oh my God. That was so fucking good." Charlotte wrapped her arms around her as we walked out of the theater with the rest of the glassy-eyed women we’d shared the last two hours with. I had to blink a few times to make sure no one could tell that I was completely lost to the handsome bastard too.
"He's nothing like that in real life." I tossed the popcorn in the trash and shoved my hands into my pockets.
"Hey!" Some girl moved up in front of me as I zipped up my light-weight jacket. "Aren't you the girl from the trident commercial? I love that gum."
"Yeah." I smiled. "Good stuff, right?"
"Oh my God. Can I get a picture with you?" The teenager moved toward me and I wrapped an arm around her shoulders, feeling stupid, and yet not willing to deny her. "Thanks so much! So cool."
"You bet." I turned back to Charlotte who was smiling. "What?"
"You know what. You're going to be as big as Ethan Lewis one day. I just know it." She slid her arm into mine and chuckled. "And then there will be a room full of dudes with hard-ons for you."
"No thanks." I rolled my eyes and pulled out my keys. "I love acting, and pray like hell that it's going to be part of my future, but having adoring fans is a-whole-nother conversation.
"True." Charlotte released me and pulled her hair up into a ponytail. "Why do you think Ethan is different in real life than what we see on the big screen? I mean, I get that he's not an international spy and shit, but he's still got the same warm brown eyes, those defined abs and that huge bulge in the front of his pants."
"That bulge is fake." I pressed the key fob. "No one has a dick that big."
She laughed as we got in the car. "Why are you being such a hater? Are you jealous of his success?"
"What? Hell no. He's probably worked his ass off to get where he is. He doesn't have famous parents or wealthy siblings or anything. He's done it all on his own." I shrugged. "I'm just saying. He's an actor. They make him extra attractive, put a cup over his cock and force him to do some push-ups before the scene starts."
"And? I still can't imagine him being much different in person." She buckled up. "You think he's shy and withdrawn?"
"Nope, but I bet the last twenty dollars in my checking account that he's a total jerk." I pulled out and waited for the large group of people filing out of the theater to pass by us. "I don't know that for sure, but it would be my guess. Really wealthy people have to fight against themselves. It makes them bitter and bitchy. It would me or you too."
"Fight against themselves? What the fuck psychoanalytical bull crap are you spewing?" She turned on the radio and gave me a look.
"I'm serious. If you were worshiped by half the people in the world, you'd have to work hard not to believe them too."
"What's wrong with believing them?" She leaned back and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.
I yanked them from her and rolled down my window, throwing them out as she tried to wrestle me.
"Stop. I'm driving." I pushed back at her playfully.
"Those are expensive, and I'm broke. Damn, Riley." She pushed at my shoulder softly.
"Then stop buying them. Paying to die isn't something I'm willing to support." I popped her in the chest and she reached over to pinch me, but I jerked out of her way, accidently pulling the car with me.
The driver beside me honked and sped up, flipping me off as he drove by.
"Sorry, buddy!" I flipped him off and smiled.
"You're ridiculous. I'm going to find a way to get that audition for Ethan's next movie, and then you'll see. You're far more talented than any of those ditzes they've had across from him in the other movies."
"Good luck. I've been trying to move up to sitcoms, which is the stop before movies. It hasn’t happened and it's not looking very promising." I pulled onto the freeway as my phone buzzed. "Besides... I'm not nearly sexy enough to star across from Mr. Lewis."
"Ah, so you admit that he's insanely hot." She picked up my phone from the cup holder.
"I totally agree with that, but anyone is with loads of make-up and a cock cup." I laughed and reached for the phone.
She pulled it from me and shook her head. "You're stunning and you know it. I cannot imagine what they could do with you if you sat down in their chair and let them have at you. You'd be the next Marilyn Monroe."
"Right. That's why guys are busting down the door to take me on a date. Give me the phone before I slap you."
"It's your personality that needs an overhaul, not your make-up. You’re a hood rat in a Cinderella body." She handed the phone to me as I scoffed at her.
I did have quite an attitude problem, she was right there. Where she was wrong is on me being something special. I looked like a child and would be carded for a beer for the next ten years.
"Hey, mom." I pressed the phone between my cheek and shoulder and pulled off the freeway to head to Charlotte's apartment.
"Hey. No need to go to the house."
"What? Why?"
"It's not ours anymore." My mom let out a long sigh. "The bank repossessed it today. Just stay with Charlotte until I figure out what to do."
"What? What about all my clothes mom? My stuff? My freaking toothbrush?" Heat raced up my center and coated my neck and cheeks.
"What's wrong?" Charlotte put her hand on my shoulder.
"I got everything out. I dropped it off at Charlotte’s earlier. The landlord pulled up my name on her list and let me in, but watched me like a hawk.” My mom's voice was tight and filled with weariness.
Life just wasn't going to cut us a break, and why would it? It never had before.