“I love you more than I love anyone else,” she cooed, flipping her honey blonde hair out of her face. I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her into my chest.
“Then leave him,” I replied brushing my lips across her neck. “Leave William.”
She pulled away from me, shaking her head. “You know I can’t do that – I can’t! I could never.”
“Cut! Cut! Cut!” Louis, our director, shouted at the top of his lungs. I rolled my eyes. This was the third time he had yelled cut in the past ten minutes. It wasn’t my fault. Rebecca was the one who couldn’t get her damn lines straight. Someone had been hitting the clubs pretty hard last night instead of memorizing like she was supposed to. I was sick and tired of working with her.
“I’m not shooting this scene again, Louis,” I growled. “I’m giving you everything I got. It’s not my fault some people don’t have their lines down.”
Rebecca immediately grew defensive, casting an eye at me. “Go screw yourself, Jackson. Sorry I don’t spend all of my time practicing. I have two kids, you know?”
I chewed on my lower lip, trying to hold back my anger and frustration but I couldn’t. No, not this time. “Don’t give me that bullshit excuse. When was the last time, you saw your kids. Everyone knows your ex-husband has full custody of them.”
“And everyone knows you’re a fag,” she shouted at me before she stomped off the set back towards her dressing room. Louis quickly shouted after her, trying to calm her down. That meant shooting was finished for the day. There was no bringing Rebecca back once she left.
“Jackson, your car is outside,” Veronica, my assistant, said handing me a cup of coffee.
“Veronica, cancel the rest of my appointments for today,” I said taking a sip from my coffee. “And you can take the rest of the day off. I am.”
“Are you sure? Nick is going to kill you,” Veronica said following me to my car. “What about your interview with Rolling Stone?”
“Reschedule – Tell them I’m busy and you can tell the Nick the same,” I huffed sliding into my car and slamming the door shut. Before Veronica could protest, I sped off towards my house. I knew Nick would kill me. He was my agent and of course, he would be upset that I gave myself a day off. His job was to make me look good. Therefore it was no surprise that when I got home, Nick was sitting on my couch, waiting to give me a lecture.
“Reschedule with Rolling Stone? Reschedule! I can’t fucking believe you, Jackson! You know how long it took me to get that interview for you,” he said his face a bright red color.
“I’m not in the mood, Nick,” I sighed running my fingers through my hair. “I don’t want to take risqué pictures and I sure as hell don’t want to be interviewed. I’m exhausted.”
Nick let out a nervous chuckle. I think he was about ready to explode. His suit was a little tighter than usual. He was either bloated or just getting fat. It must be from his recent wedding. Family life was taking a toll on him.
“Jackson – You’re going,” he said in a calm voice. “I sped here from my daughter’s ballet recital.”
I unbuttoned my shirt and started walking upstairs towards my bedroom. Nick, of course, followed me like a rabid dog. I ignored him, tossing my clothes across the floor behind him as he continued to berate me.
“You have to go. You have to address these rumors,” he growled shoving tabloid magazines in my face. “These gay rumors are getting old and directors are starting to question it.”
