Press Release

2: Pressure Cooker

So I have to face the truth. I will turn 30. That's inevitable. I can't stop time from moving on. And I will not have a complete family when I reach that landmark.

Jeffrey always rolls his eyes at me when I get this way. "You can't meet someone when you never date anymore, H."

"But Jeffrey...." I regularly whine.

"Don't 'But Jeffrey' me," he then predictably continues, "I know your heart got broken by Misty, and I know you were burned by all the ones before her, but damn, H! You haven't gone out on a date with anyone in almost 18 months!"

Before I can argue, he would fire off with, "And no! The girls Sarah and Mitch bring over don't count. Nor do the female friends you appear with on red carpets. Or your booty calls. Christ, H. Just ask someone out. It's not that hard."

"Says the man who STILL hasn't asked Glenne to marry him, even though you have TWO children!" I yell back at him every time.

Sighing, I decide to soak in a nice bubble bath before bed. Having just played back every conversation I've had with Jeffrey, I know he's not the best person to call tonight with this news. It would just be a rehash of the same conversation we've had for ages. Part of me knows he's right. But he honestly doesn't understand.

Adding a bomb to the bath, I watch it fizz, turning the water pink. Sliding out of my clothes, I neatly hang them up, ready to change into them again tomorrow night when I get home from filming. Sinking into the warm water up to my chin, I think about the women I've dated.

For years, I became infatuated quickly with women. They're all so pretty! And they have such beautiful bodies and gorgeous smiles. The older ones were always ready to introduce me to some new sex move they'd learned, and giving them pleasure made my release more powerful. I'd tried dating a couple of women younger than me, but the conversations were always soooooo boring, and they quickly turned out to be the type who only wanted my fame. Twice I had dated women close to my age, and that had been okay. But ultimately, it didn't matter who I spent time with, the magic would wear off. I'd find out they weren't all they appeared to be, or that I really do hate cigarettes.

I'm lucky enough to have a couple of women who don't want anything more from me than sex, so getting laid when I want it isn't difficult. They rarely initiate the calls, and I wonder if I should call one of them tonight. But the truth is that I'd asked them both to be my girlfriend at different times, and each of them politely declined. One said she was happy with her girlfriend, but having a dick inside her on occasion felt good. The other one just gave me a pitying look and said I wasn't really her type, but she would gladly fuck me anytime I needed to get off.

My mind settles on Misty, so my brain skitters away, instead choosing to focus on Xavier and how I will approach him tomorrow. The water grows cooler as I problem solve and think through how to deal with my co-star.

After a good night's dreamless sleep (thanks to some over the counter melatonin), I arrive bright and early the next morning on set. The die had displayed a 2, so that meant the side entrance which I always like because Bert is on duty there in the mornings, and he waves and smiles at me, telling me every single time how much he enjoyed the Grammy-winning third album, 'Harry's House'. Some mornings he will even sing from one of my singles.

Pulling up to my parking spot, I spy Meg leaving Xavier's trailer. Hailing her, I politely ask what Xavier likes to drink in the mornings.

Startled, she replies that he likes his coffee black most days, but occasionally he asks for a caramel macchiato. At my request that she disappear for a while and let me have access to Xavier, she looks worried.

"Don't panic, Meg. I just want to talk to him."

Her eyebrows go up, and the concern deepens.

"Not in a bad way. Seriously. I want to make friends," I'm practically pleading with her to back off her guard dog duty, but if she says no, I'm prepared to design a plan B.