I check the time. Four hours. I have hours until my flight leaves. It’s enough time to meet Celeste and grab a bite to eat. Leaning against the wall, I check for new text messages from Eddie. Nothing. Maybe he just included me in the email confirmation with the Celeste.
Tapping the envelope icon, I scroll through my emails. This isn’t my professional email; this is the personal one I use to communicate with Eddie and my non-celebrity life. Coupons, sales, and some Viagra should I need it. Good to know when the time comes. Hell, it’s been so long since I’ve been with a woman, I may need it. Who even knows?
Running my hand through my hair, I scroll and scroll. Nothing from Eddie. It’s unlikely he’s in my spam folder but I check just the same. Again, nothing. I mean, there are more Viagra ads but no word from Eddie.
I should have gotten her number to set something up myself. I was playing it cool. Or at least attempting to by using my manager to set up the meeting. Cleary playing it cool is so not my strong suit. Maybe I should’ve tapped into my character Nikolai’s persona. He may be a blood sucker, but the guy has moves. Not that I was going to put the moves on Celeste. We were going to grab a meal, talk theater, and maybe I’d remind myself why I started this life in the first place. Tap deep into my love of acting again.
Disappointed that she apparently didn’t follow through, I push off the wall and move about the room, dropping my John Hancock on some last minute photos for the volunteers, and thanking everyone for a great event.
This weekend should have been my final commitment until we start table reads for the new season. Instead, I have months of promotion before the action film I snagged the lead role in releases. I knew taking on the part had the potential to launch me into a different caliber of stardom. What I hadn’t counted on was how much the studio would invest in marketing the action flick and how interested they were in making me their new go-to leading man. That means interviews and photo shoots across the country. I’ll be lucky to sleep in one hotel room two nights in a row.
What I need is downtime. A few months of letting my beard grow, not counting macros, and sleeping. It’s been so long, I forget what it’s like to curl up with my own pillow, in my own bed, and sleep until I wake because I’m rested instead of having to catch a flight. Moving down the hall, I stroll toward the private exit set up for the talent. When I approach security at the exit, I nod in acknowledgement as I’m shuffled into a waiting car.
As drained as I feel, one would think I’ve spent most of my life in the spotlight. The reality is, I’ve paid my dues, but my big break only happened a few years ago. Eddie warned me. He said the day would come that all the shitty parts and Ramen nights would pay off. What he failed to tell me was that I wouldn’t have time to enjoy it.
I live a modest life. My home is nice but nothing extravagant. Taking care of my parents and providing for my younger siblings’ education was never a second thought. The one indulgence I can claim is my fully loaded truck with a kick-ass sound system. Unlike many celebrities my age, I don’t have a specially designed garage filled with sports cars.
Then there are the hotels. That’s one area I don’t skimp on and, thankfully, these conventions are usually booked at the higher end chains which means, privacy for the actors and my luggage waiting for me in my ride to the airport.
Pulling up Eddie’s contact, I press the call button. Two rings. Three. Voicemail.
“Hey, it’s Hunter. I’m just leaving the hotel. I was looking for an email from you about an interview… Anyway, give me a call when you have a chance.”
I end the call and settle back into the plush leather. The buildings are a blur as the car maneuvers through downtown Chicago. Glancing at the console, I note the time. Not that the minutes are moving quickly. The least the city could do is offer a little traffic to make the drive to the airport longer. Give me a little more time before I have