Red Wine And Fallen Angels

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Jacen’s POV

“Are you ready?” came Odette’s voice from opposite me. I could see her perfectly, the worried crease between her eyes, the stressed line of her mouth – despite the fact that it was night time. It might as well be high noon, what with all the blinding lights outside the limo’s tinted windows acting as a second sun.

“Of course I am.” The eye roll I threw in was more for show than anything else, but the smirk that followed was one hundred percent legitimate. “This isn’t exactly my first time.”

“Charming,” Odette observed dryly, sliding her phone into her purse. “But try and keep the suggestive comments to yourself during the interview.”

“Don’t I always?” I beamed a smile at her – leaving it on my face as the door opened. Without a barrier, the noise of the outside hit me full on; the screaming and shouting nearly deafening me. I didn’t let it faze me though, just left the smile painted on my face as I climbed out of the limo and onto the red carpet.

Some might say the shock was like jumping into a pool of cold water. I always thought it was more like jumping into a pool of water and realizing it’s actually sulfuric acid. You’ve done it a million times; you think you know what to expect. But every time the full force of it hits you like a ton of bricks – so hard you don’t even know which way is up.

The lights were dizzying, the noise ear splitting, the crowd overwhelming. There were so many people; all of them sucking the oxygen out of the air so there was none left for me to breathe. They were everywhere, reaching for me over the red ropes like starved animals. Their hands grazed me, some managing to snag on my jacket. They all swiped at me, trying to pull me to a stop, but I just kept on walking with that same smile plastered on my face.

After all, like I told Odette, this was hardly my first time. I’d been on enough red carpets to know what was expected to me. Pose for the same paparazzi I usually avoided, sign autographs for the fans while they attempt to tear me apart, and smile. Always smile.

The carpet seemed to stretch on for miles; with every step I took, it grew longer and longer. I felt like I was on a treadmill; always running but never getting anywhere. It was a sickening feeling, but a familiar one. When you had hundreds of eyes watching your every move, checking for faults, every step felt like two.

But despite my convictions that I was stuck in a time vortex, I eventually did reach the end. I glanced back at the line of limos, giving everyone one last smile before the next starlet caught their attention. Looking back, I’d probably only been on that red carpet for five minutes max, but it felt like years. I couldn’t remember any of it with certainty.

Resisting the urge to rub my temples, I stepped under the white tent just next to the doors. I wanted to go inside, to escape the insanity, but I knew that wasn’t an option. I had an on sight interview scheduled, after all. Suppressing a groan, I sauntered over to the E! News crew that awaited me. I felt like I was willingly walking into an ambush. The busty blonde reporter that stood there, microphone in hand, had certainly preyed on me before. Nina Roberts had interviewed me countless times, and reported untrue, unflattering stories about me even more frequently. But still, I had to play nice and pretend I didn’t notice how bad her boob job was.

“And here he is now,” she announced in that unnaturally chipper voice, gesturing to me for the camera as I came into the shot. I made sure to keep smiling. “Jacen, darling, it’s so good to see you again,” she carried on, making a show of hugging me and kissing my cheek. Ashamedly, I laid it on just as thick.

“You too Nina,” I returned, kicking the charm up a notch.

“So, Jacen, tell me, are you as excited to be here as I am?” she wondered. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. It’d be pretty hard for me to be as enthusiastic as her. After all, I got paid whether or not I showed up at these stupid premiers.

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