Suddenly Famous (3 page)

“God! They’re out there almost every day, Ry, I swear,” Britt says. She wrinkles her nose in disgust, “Seriously, do they not have jobs or school to be at?”

“I think their job is to make my life a living hell,” I say tiredly. “And they need a raise, because it’s working.”

“Forget them. They’re idiots. Loud and annoying, but harmless.” Britt pats my hand on the seat between us. “So, tell me about basketball. I’ve never seen a game.”

I crack up laughing. “Never? How is that possible?” My best friend is perfect. She knows exactly how to distract me and make me feel better.

“What? Not everyone likes it. Besides, I’ve never been to a game in L.A. Who would I root for anyway, the Clippers or the Lakers?”

“You really are something else, Britt.” I sling my arm around her shoulders and hug her tight, my obsessed fans forgotten for now.

“Jess!” Brittany screams and hugs her friend Jessica, a crewmember from
Quantum Stranger
. We finished filming months ago, so it’s been a while since we’ve all met up.

“Declan,” I nod at my costar and we exchange a man hug, handshake/backslap thing. “Good to see you, man.” Declan has been at all of the premieres with me, so I’ve seen him as recently as last month.

“Ry, how’s it been?” It doesn’t escape my notice that Dex winces slightly when he asks his question. The incident is still too fresh. I knew this was a bad idea.

“Good,” I say tersely. “Everything is good.” My gut churns with a mixture of anxiety and flat-out fear.

He smiles in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Let’s grab a beer. The game is going to start soon.”

We walk through the plush suite, past a full bar where we grab a couple of bottles, past an overflowing table of food and snacks, and over to the glass half-railing that overlooks the arena at half-court. I have to concentrate to keep my gait steady, the undercurrent of dizziness and nausea from impending panic threatening to rise up and take me down.

“Wow,” I exclaim, distracting myself by studying the arena. “That is a great view.”

“We can sit down there too,” Declan says. “There’s a door and we have those two rows in front of us.”

Outside of the suite? Where everyone can see me? Those ice-cold hands snake up my back and start closing in on my neck, trying to keep air from getting into my lungs. “No thanks. I’d rather watch from here.” I flop down on one of the leather stadium seats and put my beer in the cup holder. “This is perfect.”

Dex takes the seat next to me and clinks his bottle against mine. “Ready for London?” he asks.

My blood goes cold at the thought of running the gauntlet again. A new movie means riling up the fans again, and the premiere of the first one only just happened.

“I don’t know, Dex. I’m having a little bit of a difficult time dealing with all the crap that went on with the last one.” I swallow a large sip of beer. “With the fans and stuff.”

Dex is quiet for a moment, deciding what to say before speaking. I like him. He’s a good guy, plus he’s very grounded and levelheaded. More than once he kept me calm while all hell was breaking loose around us.

“Yeah, it sucks for you. I’m not going to lie. I’d hate it.” He shivers, “Some of them are so creepy. I’ve seen tattoos with our faces on them. People have actually permanently inked our faces on their bodies, Ry!” He laughs and shakes his head. “Fucked up, man. It’s fucked up.”

“Tattoos?” I answer. “Shit, that’s nothing. Britt told me someone was selling a chewed up piece of gum that I spit out at the gym. Dove in the garbage for it and everything. How freaking gross is that?”

Dex clutches his abdomen and hunches over, he’s laughing so hard. “Gum? They’re selling your old-ass gum?”

“Yes. And my leftover breakfast.” I laugh right along with Dex. It feels good to make light of the harassment I’ve suffered over the last year.

“Breakfast? Come on! You’re full of shit!” Dex’s mouth is gaping open in disbelief.

“Yep. I ate in a little restaurant in Vancouver with a few other people and when we left, someone stole my plate and sold the leftovers online.” That was fucking weird and actually, it did freak me out at the time. It doesn’t bother me now… well, not much anyway. Okay, it bothers me. It’s freaky as hell.

The announcements begin and we turn to the field to watch the tip off.

“Hey guys!” Rachel, one of the other crewmembers, waves to us from the second row of seats where the girls are settling in behind us.

“Hey Rach. Good to see you.”

“You too Ryker. Declan.”

“Rachel, looking hot as usual,” Dex says to her. I roll my eyes. He’s always charming everyone, it’s his personality. No ulterior motive, no sarcasm, he just knows what to say. It’s a gift, really.

We watch the first half of the game, laughing and drinking and hanging out. Britt was right, this suite is super private. No one comes in unless it’s a staff member cleaning up or refreshing our food and beverages.

Dex excuses himself to use the suite’s private bathroom so I take the opportunity to call Leah. After a couple of rings, she answers.

“Hey, Ryker.” Her voice is like a soothing balm on my fractured psyche.

“Hey, how’s it going? Did everything go okay last night with your friend?”

“Not really.” She sounds weird, sad. Not the vibrant, lively person from last night.

“Can I do anything to help?” God, I’d do anything to wipe out the misery for her.

“You probably can’t do much from your luxury suite at Madison Square Garden.”

“What? How? I didn’t tell you I was going to the game, did I?” I replay our conversation and can’t come up with a single mention of basketball.

“Wave, Ryker. I’m watching you on T.V.” Leah giggles as I look around in horror. I remember that the suite has televisions everywhere and I glance up at the nearest one. Sure enough, there I am, talking on my phone. I watch as Dex comes down the stairs and sits next to me both on T.V and in real life.

“Crap!” The tight band around my chest starts compressing, making breathing difficult.

“Ry, are you okay?” Leah can tell I’m panicking. Probably from the look on my face on the fucking television.

“I’m fine, sorry. I didn’t know that they found me,” I tell her, the constriction on my lungs already loosening, Leah’s voice acting as a distraction.

“They always scan the luxury seats for famous faces. It’s a New York thing. They do it at Yankee Stadium too.”

“Damn, I wish I knew that,” I admit. I quickly change the subject so I won’t think about the cameras or the fact that anyone would know exactly where to find me. “So, when can I see you?” I get up and make my way to the back of the suite, away from the open windows and the camera’s prying eye.

“Nice ass.”

“Oh very funny,” I chuckle. “Did they get a good shot of it?” My face is flaming up thinking about my ass being shown on the big screen at a Knicks game.

“Meh, it has clothing covering it up, so it’s debatable.”

“You’re wicked.” I scold her for being naughty, but honestly, I love it. She’s funny and bright and distracts me from all my shit. “So you haven’t answered my question. When can I see you?”

“Oh. I’m not sure. My friend, Sydney, who you met…”

“Yes, the redhead who left the party early. I remember.” I also remember that she looked just as panicked as I feel most of the time.

“She’s having… issues right now. I have to be here for her when she gets back,” Leah says, being deliberately vague.

“Back? Back from where?”

Leah sniffs as if trying to hold back a sob. “I don’t know. She left the club last night and I have no idea where she is. Neither does her boyfriend. We’re really worried.”

“Worried as in you think something happened to her?” Holy shit, what if someone assaulted her on the street!

“No. She took the hotel car service back to her place and packed a bag. She tends to take off when she’s upset, only she usually comes and stays with me.”

“But she’s not with you,” I say carefully, not wanting to further upset Leah.

“No. Because this time, she’s mad at me too. It’s partially my fault.”

“What’s your fault? I don’t understand any of this,” I admit to Leah.

See Bancroft?
You’re not the only one with problems. Yours are just broadcast worldwide and involve massive mobs of semi-violent women.

“I can’t tell you, not without talking to Sydney first. She’s very private, Ry. She’d kill me if she knew I was telling you this much.” Leah sniffs again.

“Alright Leah. I don’t want you breaking your friend’s trust. Can we still talk? At least until everything is settled and I can see you?”

I can hear a small smile break through her tears. “Yeah Ryker. I’d like that.”

I’ll take whatever I can get from this girl. A minute, an hour, a week… when I’m with her or talking to her, I can
breathe
again. I don’t see the red.

“You sure have been in a shitty mood lately.” Brittany throws a balled up napkin at me.

I deflect it with a quick flick of my fingers and scowl. Yeah, I know I’ve been a bastard, but it’s been a week since I last spoke to Leah, two weeks since the party, and I’m going crazy wanting to see her. I left a message on her voice mail a few days ago, but haven’t gotten a call back.

If I’m honest with myself, what really has me upset is that I heard there was an attack by a crazy fan at a movie premiere. My worst nightmare come to life. I’ve barely slept a minute since.

“Nice, Ry. Can you at least
act
like you’re having a good time? We haven’t been to this restaurant in forever and I want to enjoy my food.” She scowls and folds her arms across her chest.

The sharp edges of my attitude soften a little and I allow my tight neck and shoulders to relax. “Fine. I’m sorry. You’re right, I’m being a shitty friend.”

The wooden shoji screen of our private Tatami room slides open. Our server comes in with a large assortment of sashimi and nigiri.

“May I have another Kirin, please?” I ask the beautiful Japanese woman.

“No problem. I’ll go get it. Anything for you?” She turns to Britt who declines. With a quiet swish, the server disappears behind the closed screen.

“Care to tell me what the problem is?” Britt gets to her knees on the padded floor mat and adjusts so she’s sitting on her feet instead of cross-legged. She deftly selects several pieces of nigiri and places them on her plate.

Do I tell Brittney about Leah? If so, how much do I say? Do I tell her how I haven’t slept at all since I read about the attack by a fan at a movie premiere? How I need to talk to Leah to calm me down, to ground me?

The screens slide open once more and my beer is placed in front of me.

Sighing, I use my chopsticks to grab a few pieces of fish and put them on my plate.

“I don’t know, Britt. It’s kind of… uncomfortable to talk about. It might be nothing.” Against proper sushi-eating etiquette, I plop a large amount of wasabi into my soy sauce bowl and mix it in until it dissolves. My chopsticks hover over the plate as I select a nigiri with tuna and dip it into the concoction before popping it into my mouth.

“Uncomfortable? What’s uncomfortable?” Britt asks through a mouthful of rice, pieces splattering out over the table.

“Gross.” I laugh and nearly choke on my beer.

She swallows her food and giggles like a maniac, her face bright red. “Did that beer come out of your nose, Ry?”

I shoot her a disgusted look. “No Britt. It didn’t.” Then I crack up all over again.

“It’s good to see you laugh, Ry. So, tell me what’s up.”

I reluctantly tell her about meeting Leah at the Warren’s party and how we really connected. That Leah had to take off when her friend skipped town and how worried she sounded for her friend. I don’t mention the stabbing at the theater. Britt would freak out if I told her I’ve been having nightmares about it.

“We talked a few times, but I haven’t heard back from her in almost a week.”

“So, she said you could talk whenever, right?” Britt asks.

“I guess so.”

Brittany looks at me like I’m an idiot. “So why haven’t you tried calling her again?”

“I don’t know, Britt! It seemed like she needed some time to deal with her friend’s shit. I didn’t want to push or be that jerk that blows up your phone.”

“Leaving one message and trying again in a week isn’t the definition of blowing up her phone you idiot! Call her when you get home, okay?”

“Right, when I get home.”

I stare out the window of my high-rise apartment, clutching my phone in one hand. Sleep has been so hard to come by over the last week or so. I’m exhausted. I’m tired of not sleeping, of feeling like shit, of feeling
nothing
, of feeling
everything
.

Leah makes me
feel good
. I can do this. Scrolling through my contacts, I find her name and hit send.