"Well, you fucked that right on up mate."
"You know what Clide, I'm changing your contact name to Mister Fucking Obvious," Oliver says as he makes his way into his high-rise penthouse.
"I'm sorry Oli, I didn't mean to make things worse," Clide's voice says, sounding apologetic over the phone.
Oliver's frustration begins to fade as he takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. He moves over to the plush couch in his lavishly furnished penthouse, tossing his Mickey ears onto the carpeted floor. The space around him is meticulously designed, filled with expensive furniture and extravagant décor that lacks any personal touch.
"I know you didn't, Clide. It's just... everything feels like it's finally how I wanted it and falling apart at the same time," Oliver replies, his voice heavy with disappointment.
Just as he settles into the couch, his phone buzzes again, indicating an incoming call. He looks at the screen and sees Carmen's name flashing. Taking a moment to compose himself, he answers and merges the call.
"Carmen, hi," Oliver says, trying to sound collected.
"What the hell happened, Oliver? As thrilled as I was to see on my Twitter feed that you're coming home again, I hope to God you're turning it down. I actually really like him for you."
Oliver sighs, catching Carmen up on the conversation as Clide tries to keep himself quiet. Oliver's trying to convey the complexity of the situation better than he did the first time. As he talks, he paces through his opulent penthouse, the surroundings reflecting the same lack of warmth and personality that Oliver used to embody.
The space is impeccably styled, with pristine white walls adorned with expensive artwork. A grand piano stands in one corner, untouched, very very untouched. Shelves are lined with awards and trophies sit meticulously organized, devoid of any personal mementos. The emptiness of the space starts to weigh on Oliver, an unfamiliar feeling settling within.
Carmen listens intently, her voice filled with concern. "You're such an idiot, and we're here for you, but you have to understand how it feels for Shayne too. You've put him through a lot."
Oliver's footsteps slow as he reaches the floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing out at the cityscape below, Hollywood practically giving him the finger. "I know, I just... I never expected to feel this way. I didn't expect to find someone like Shayne. And now, it feels like I'm losing everything."
Clide's voice cut in, sympathy seeping through his words. "Sometimes, Oliver, we have to make tough choices to pursue our dreams. But don't forget that dreams can change and evolve. You have to decide what's truly important to you."
Oliver's gaze drops to the floor. "I don't even know what's important to me anymore. This place, all this stuff... it's so empty."
Carmen's voice carries a hint of reassurance. "We just want you to be happy."
Oliver sinks onto a nearby chair, the weight of his choices bearing down on him. He closes his eyes, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just wish I had all the answers.
Carmen's tone softens, filled with understanding. "You have the ones you need."
Oliver takes a deep breath, feeling a glimmer of hope amidst the confusion. "Thank you, guys."
"You're family, Oliver. We'll be here for you no matter what," Clide says. "Just promise not to do anything else drastic without telling us first, yeah? I think we've both had enough of hearing about your life secondhand."
Oliver nods, even though they can't see him. "I will," and he means it."
"We love you, man," Carmen says, "Now call your mother, please. If I get one more call about you I'm throwing my phone into that kangaroo sanctuary."
They all talk for a bit longer, Oliver begrudgingly agreeing to call his mother, before the phone call wraps up.
He sits there in silence at first, his thoughts swirling. This doesn't feel like home anymore. Will home feel like home again if he goes back? Can he just throw everything away, run away from his problems?
Oliver takes a deep breath, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and anxiety as he reaches for his phone and dials his mother's number. It rings for what feels like an eternity before she finally answers.
"Hello?" his mother's voice sounds confused at first, but there's a hint of relief as well.
"Mum," Oliver says, his voice betraying him. "It's me."
"Oh, my dearest love," she says. "it's so good to hear your voice."
There's a long pause.
"I didn't know if you'd ever call me back really. I almost bought a plane ticket," she continues.
Oliver's emotions well up within him, and before he can get a word in, his mother continues trailing on. "I want you to know that I love you very much. More than you'll ever know."
Tears prick at his eyes as he realizes the weight of her words. He knows there's something more to this conversation, something important that needs to be said.
"Mum, I love you too," he manages to say, his voice trembling.
His mother's voice turns serious, her words flowing with unexpected honesty. "Oliver, I need to tell you something. Your father... I'm leaving him. The show, coming to our house, woke me up. I feel like I've been on autopilot since Pen snatched you up and made you a star. Something finally clicked, it made me realize that your father was never kind enough or easy enough on any of us."
It's like the ground beneath him is shifting, opening up, threatening to swallow him alive in emotional weight if he's not careful.
"I'm so sorry, Mum," Oliver whispers, his voice choked with tears. "I never wanted any of this for you."
His mother's voice softens, filled with regret. "Oliver, my dear, it's not your fault. We all make choices, and I regret not being stronger sooner. But I want you to know that I support you, no matter what you have going on with that sweet Shayne guy. You deserve to be happy."
The ground swallows him, breaks him, and the floodgates right open. Oliver breaks down, tears streaming down his face as he tries to speak through the sobs. "I... I have no idea what I'm doing, Mum. Everything's falling apart, and I don't know how to fix it."
His mother's voice carries a mixture of empathy and determination. "Oh, my sweet boy, sometimes life throws us a tough lot, and we have to find our way through it. You're strong, Oliver, stronger than you know. And you may be stubborn, you may be cruel when you want to be, but you've never chosen wrong. You always find your way."
Oliver clings to his mother's words, a sense of comfort washing over him. In this vulnerable moment, he pours out his fears, his uncertainties, and his hopes. They have a deep conversation, exchanging thoughts, regrets, and dreams (so many dreams he's never heard before).
They talk about the past, the choices that led them to where they are, and the potential paths ahead, to heal.
Oliver's tears slowly subside as he listens intently to his mother's words. She opens up about her dreams, her unfulfilled desires, and the sacrifices she made for him. It's a side of his mother he's never truly seen before, and it fills him with both gratitude and a sense of responsibility.
"Mum, I had no idea," Oliver says, his voice filled with a mix of awe and regret. "I never realized how much you gave up for me."
His mother's voice is filled with warmth and understanding. "Oh, my dear, it was my choice, and I don't regret it. Seeing you succeed brought me immeasurable joy. But I also realized that I started living through you, and it made me lose sight of my dreams. That's why I want to help others now. I think I want to be a therapist. I want to guide people towards finding their happiness."
Oliver's heart swells with pride for his mother. Her strength and resilience inspire him, and he realizes the importance of pursuing his dreams, separate from the expectations of others.
"Mum, I've been offered a new movie role," Oliver reveals, his voice tinged with excitement. "And I might be coming home soon to watch you shine. To support you in your new journey."
There's a pause on the other end of the line before his mother responds, her voice filled with genuine concern. "Oliver, my love, are you sure that's your dream?"
Oliver takes a moment to reflect, "I thought it was, Mum. But now... now I'm not so sure."
His mother's voice carries a mixture of pride and understanding. "And that's the sign that you're growing up. Finding yourself is a journey, and sometimes it takes detours. Trust yourself, my love, and follow your heart. It will guide you to where you need to be."
"Mum, thank you," Oliver says, his voice filled with gratitude. "Thank you for always being there for me, even when I couldn't see you."
His mother's voice softens, her love echoing through the phone line. "I love you too, my dear. Remember, no matter where life takes you, I'll always be your biggest cheerleader. Take care of yourself."
They exchange a few more words, promising to keep each other updated. As they bid each other farewell, Oliver feels a sense of peace settling within him. He's not alone in this, and he has the love and support of his mother and his friends.
Oliver stands up from the chair, his gaze shifting from the extravagant but soulless surroundings of his penthouse to the windows again, the view of the city, his second home away from home.
As he walks through the empty halls of his penthouse, a strange feeling of liberation washes over him. The walls no longer confine him; they're merely a cage he's crawled out of, he just needed someone to set him free. With each step, now heading back towards his front door, he feels more and more free; and then, he remembers.
Oliver stands at the door of his penthouse, his mind drifting back to a time before the glitz and glamour consumed his life. He recalls a particular audition, a turning point he ignored.
***
It's two years back and Oliver finds himself sitting in a cramped waiting room, filled with aspiring actors who bear a striking resemblance to him. They're all vying for a small, side character role in a movie, and the competition is fierce. Oliver feels a sense of intimidation as he notices the chiseled physiques and confident demeanors of the other actors.
His attention is drawn to one guy in particular. He has a similar build to Oliver, but there's a genuine warmth and charm in his eyes that sets him apart. Their eyes meet for a brief moment, but Oliver quickly averts his gaze, feeling self-conscious and unsure of himself.
To Oliver's surprise, the guy gets up from his seat and walks over, extending a hand in greeting. "Hey, man. I'm Jake," he introduces himself with a friendly smile.
Oliver shakes Jake's hand, a mix of surprise and gratitude washing over him. "Oliver," he replies, feeling a flicker of connection between them.
"Digging the accent Oliver," Jake says.
The two actors strike up a conversation, joking about the rough gigs they've taken so far. Jake has seen Oliver's movie too, although he tells him he remembers him being a little bit younger and chubbier. Oliver finds himself opening up, revealing a side of himself he rarely shows to others.
Jake chuckles at something he says, glancing at the overly confident actors around them. "Man, some of these guys are so obsessed with themselves. It's like they've forgotten why they're here in the first place."
Oliver joins in the laughter, shaking his head. "You're right. It's a bit ridiculous mate. All this posturing and flexing, as if that's what acting is all about."
Jake raises an eyebrow, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "You know, I can't help but notice how you stand out from the rest. You're not putting on a show, trying to prove something. It's refreshing."
Oliver's smile falters slightly, feeling a mixture of flattery and uncertainty. "Thanks, but I think you've got the wrong idea. I'm just trying to make my mark like everyone else."
Jake leans closer, his voice filled with sincerity. "I don't think I do. You seem different, Oliver. Like you still have a sense of who you are in all this.
Oliver's name is called for his audition, and he glances at Jake before getting up. "Well, I guess we'll find out soon enough."
Jake reaches out and gently touches Oliver's arm, his expression serious. "Don't give yourself to them. It's easy to get caught up in the fame and the success, they'll take all of you, fuck you, and not even buy you dinner first. It's not worth sacrificing who you truly are. Trust me, I've seen it happen."
Oliver takes a moment to absorb Jake's words, the weight of his advice sinking in. He nods, grateful for the reminder. "I'll keep that in mind. See you around man."
With that, Oliver heads into the audition room, figuring they'll cross paths again, but they never do.
***
Oliver's back in his apartment then, right where his brain has left him, at the door. There are so many unknowns behind it. So many things he wishes he had and hadn't said since this city swallowed him up.
That's the thing about fame, it's a bloody monster. This fame... it's like a relentless beast that latches onto your soul. It promises you the world, but slowly drains the authenticity from your being. He thinks, or maybe thought it was his ticket to happiness, but all it's done is hurt.
He takes a deep breath, his mind flooded with memories and regrets. With a heavy heart, Oliver turns and steps back into his lavishly furnished penthouse, the gilded cage welcoming him with open arms. It's almost mocking really, a reminder of everything he's sold out to make it here.
He walks past the plush couch, his Mickey ears still discarded on the floor. He makes his way to the floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing out at the cityscape below. The twinkling lights of Hollywood dimming, before shining bright again.
His voice trembles as he speaks to the silence, "I wish I had never said yes to Pen. I feel like I'm not even me.
The image of Shayne's face flashes through his mind, how sad he looked when they left. The awkward limo ride back to his apartment. The door Shayne slammed in his face. It felt worse than when he tried to get him to sign the contract, it felt final. He may have broken this beautiful thing.
He runs a hand through his hair, his voice filled with a mix of resignation and determination. "I need the universe to tell me what to do."
He reflects on the journey that led him to this point, the show, the women, and the trust he gained and lost. The slow and steady burn as he found Shayne, the real Shayne, lost him, and then found him again. The sneaking around, the lies, the truth coming out.
"Well," he says to himself again. "I've got a lot of unfucking up to do."
He pulls his phone out of his pocket, finding the number easily since he was added to a call with her to help expose Ethan. He dials it effortlessly, a few rings go by before the voice on the other end meets him.
"You better be fucking dying at this point, because Sholiver can go fuck it-"
"Lily," he says, cutting her off. "I need you to do something for me."
She sighs. "I don't get enough time in therapy for this."