He held the shreds of my career together when I was too fucked up to realize my life was unraveling. He was more than just a manager and a handler. He was my confidant. My sobriety coach. My common sense. The ultimate truth-teller in my very small inner circle.
He was the only person I had in my life who had loved me unconditionally in my darkest days.
It wasn’t an exaggeration when I said I would die for the kid. Fortunately, I realized before it was too late that it was far better to live for him instead. It was highly questionable if I would have survived to see twenty-six if it hadn’t been for his persistence and dogged determination.
He was also the CEO of the new production company I was trying to get off the ground, so it was no surprise he wanted me to get my shit together sooner rather than later when it came to schmoozing potential money men. I might be the face and name that would get things off the ground, but it was Jeno’s head for numbers and calm rationale when it came to making solid business decisions that would propel us forward.
“Give me ten more minutes. I didn’t fall asleep until ten this morning. My brain feels like it’s filled with marshmallows.” There were lots of pitfalls that came with being an addict. I couldn’t take sleeping aids because of the chance I would get hooked or end up using them as a crutch. I was really, really careful about what I put in my body these days.
“Fine. Ten minutes. Or you can get up now, and I’ll you that I finally heard back from Lennon Carter. Whichever you prefer.” I could hear the smirk in his voice because he knew exactly which one I was going to choose.
I tossed off the expensive comforter and sat up in the middle of the bed. All traces of grogginess and exhaustion disappeared as I focused on the good-looking kid who was now bouncing playfully on the edge of the mattress.
It didn’t matter how old he got, how much money he made, or the weight of his responsibilities, Jeno still looked like the quintessential California skater-boy. His black hair was a little too long and hung in his bright blue eyes. He was tan year-round, and most of his visible skin was covered in a collage of tattoos. He didn’t own a single designer clothing label, preferring baggy shorts, logo t-shirts, and his ever-present Chucks. You would never know his mother was an former international supermodel, or that he was the beloved stepbrother of a superstar, by looking at him. I often envied how he managed to stay true to who he was, regardless of what was thrown at him.
“What did she say? Did she talk to Maren? Did she agree to at least look at the script?” I dragged a hand down my face and tried to keep the anxiety and anticipation out of my voice.
While Jeno had been the person who stuck by me the longest and put the most work in, I’d never forgotten that there was someone else who had given a shit about what happened to me back in the day. Her concern cost her everything, but it imprinted her on parts of me that were buried so deep they were one of the few pieces of my heart and soul my addiction hadn’t managed to destroy.
Jeno sighed heavily and lifted a dark eyebrow in my direction. “Take a breath, dude. It’d be nice if you got this excited about the business we need to take care of today.”
I knew he was just giving me shit, so I reached out and smacked him on the shoulder.
I was a lot paler than he was, and a lot less bulked-up, but I think I’d caught up to him in terms of the available skin I’d covered in ink. Both my arms were tattooed from shoulder to wrist, and I even had a bold, geometric design that covered the front of my neck. It was one of those decisions I made without really thinking about the ramifications when my mind was altered. I knew I wanted to keep acting, but my options would be severely limited the more I modified my appearance. I’d had “all-American” good looks when I was just starting out and into my teens. Now, I definitely had an edgier, angsty vibe that wasn’t unappealing, but it meant I wasn’t going to