Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
All of which I’ve never actually done, thanks to stunt doubles. This is a chance to actually advance my acting career.
“What’s the deal with you and Ben?” I ask.
Benjamin Randt is the director, and the entire reason I’m even up for this role is because I had a chance encounter with him and Jordan in a nightclub. That’s how it works in Hollywood.
Jordan licks his lips. “We’re … together.” He winces.
“Mmm, sounds like true love,” I say dryly.
“I’m still getting used to doing the committed thing. It’s new for me.”
“Because he doesn’t share. That’s what you said, right?” It was a passing comment Jordan made when we met—when he first tried to convince me to take on this role.
“He’s a traditionalist like that. Until me, he’d never been with a guy, so he’s very heteronormative in his ways.”
“And you’re not?”
“Fuck no.” With how vehemently Jordan’s against it, I get the feeling there’s a story there and he might be protesting a little too hard.
“How’s commitment working out for you?” I ask.
He cringes.
“That good?” I laugh.
“It’s fine. Professionally, it makes sense. I think while we’re making movies together, it’s easier to be faithful than deal with the drama of jealousy and all that other bullshit.”
“Sounds so romantic. I hope to find a relationship like yours one day.”
“Romance is stupid.”
“Says the rom-com actor.”
Jordan leans back in his seat. “Okay, I’ll admit romance can work when you find someone you could tolerate forever. I’ve seen that kind of connection. My best friend from back home and his husband are so sickeningly in love nothing could come between them. But in Hollywood? Forget it. Not possible. No way. It only took me a couple of years of living here to give up on even trying for it.”
He can’t be right about that, can he? I get it to a degree. I could never date a fan because I would constantly ask if they were with me for me or for my fame. The only way to find an equal in Hollywood is by being with another famous person, but to do that without conflicting schedules is next to impossible.
“You know I’m right,” Jordan says.
“I may relent that it’s hard to have something real in a world that’s so fake.”
“Wow. That’s so philosophical.”
“I’ve seen it happen, though.” All my ex-bandmates are in solid relationships. With men.
By some chance, it turns out the other four guys from the once chart-topping boy band Eleven all have boyfriends, and until last night, they were all in the closet. Denver and Mason came out together while performing a duet on TV, but it’s too early to tell if it was a smart decision career-wise. That’s the downfall of Hollywood. To have any semblance of privacy, you need to be secretive, and when those secrets leak? There’s a chance this industry could turn its back on you.
It’s that easy.
It sucks, and I understand why Harley and Ryder still don’t feel safe enough to step out and live their truth for everyone to see.
“You’ve seen it in Hollywood?” Jordan asks.
“Hey, I can name a ton of Hollywood couples who have been together for practically ever. Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson. Kevin Bacon and Kyra Sedgwick. Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell.”
“They’re the exception to the rule. Hollywood relationships are lucky to last five years. Tops.”
I flag down a server to order a drink. “Fine. You win. I don’t even know why I’m fighting you on it when I don’t exactly have firsthand proof. All my relationships for the past ten years have been …”
“Shallow,” he answers for me.
“Exactly.” I’m not even sure you can call them relationships.
“You’ll have to find someone on the set of our movie coming up. It helps when you have to spend time together.”
“And if we have a fight and then have to still see each other every day?”
“Be professional.” Jordan says this as if relationship drama is so easy to ignore.
“Do you really think you could be professional if you and Ben broke up?”
Drinks arrive, and Jordan holds his up for a toast. “That’s why I said it’s easier to do the monogamy thing with him while we’re making movies together.”
“It just sounds so … cold and unromantic.”
Jordan smiles.
“What?” I ask.
“You’re perfect for this role because you’re an actual romantic.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” How can I be a romantic when I’ve never experienced romance? Becoming famous at seventeen hasn’t given me the opportunity to have a normal lifestyle.
“Come on, you know you want to,” he taunts.
“My agent did say I should do it.”
Jordan whips out a pen and scribbles something on a napkin.
“Do you carry a Sharpie around with you in case someone asks for an autograph?”
“What, you don’t?”
“No.” Though, thinking about it, it would make things easier. It just feels so conceited.
He slides the napkin over to me, and I huff a laugh.