Connor's POV:
Am I really in
this
deep?
It was never gonna happen so I should just get it out of my thick fucking head. Then again, I kinda think it's too late for that already.
I thought that I was catching some gay vibes from him in our conversations. But then he had to tell me about his past girlfriends and all my hope just deflated in an instant. Leaving me in nothing but complete and utter pointless desire.
Okay that sounds dramatic, but
shit
!
I fell for him
so
hard, I don't even know what this feeling is! I feel this need to be close to him, need to hold him and kiss him and cuddle with him. A magnet, that's what I feel like. With nothing to latch onto. Can this be what people talk about when they're really in love? It's all I can think about.
We'd only had contact online... for a week... God I was miserable.
Leonard.
Heh heh
, sometimes I almost forget that's actually his name.
Cute.
Like the way his face lights up when he tells a joke. Or when he's trying to drink from a straw without touching it with his hands and ends up reaching for it with his tongue until he stops trying and his cheeks go all red from embarrassment.
It's those little things about him that scare me the most. The fact that I've registered these small personal traits of his and already get attached to them makes me wonder if I could even refuse my feelings for him at all. What if I screw up on set and they end up pulling me from the movie?
Or worse, what if I manage to screw up for Leo? He would never forgive me. How could he? And he'd end up hating me for ruining his chance on a big break. I could never live with that.
I need to get him out of my head. It's never gonna happen so I have got to stop thinking about it, otherwise I'll just be stuck in it and end up ruining everything.
I need to start seeing him for what he is, not what I so desperately want him to be. Even if there is the slimmest possibility that he might have a thing for me too, work comes first. The friendship we have right now is a big part of that.
All of this. All of these distracting conflictions. And all of the pent up emotions. All of these thoughts and feelings that I so desperately need some sort of outlet for.
And still I didn't say a word about it all to Caytlin.
I don't know what came over me, I guess I had some sort of idiotic black-out. But the conversation I had prepared to have with her was a very long way from the one that actually took place. I remember having spewed out a lot of bullshit about being stressed from work, confused about '
maybe'
being '
bicurious'
and how it all weighed on our relationship.
Caytlin mainly listened to me rambling on about it all.
Then she cried. A lot.
Then she screamed.
And then she cried again.
I was almost afraid that she was going to forgive me and suggest that we start over and make things right between us. Luckily, that wasn't the case.
We agreed, sort of, that she could tell everyone that she broke up with me, I was to be the
dumped
boyfriend who apparently couldn't hold down the perfect Queen Bee of LA. And that was that.
No doubt she would enjoy the upcoming tide wave of hopeless Casanovas who's souls were just meant to be hers to take, play with and rip apart. Not my problem anymore.
A small weight lifted from my shoulders. Considering I had my own mob of crazy, lovesick and overly devoted fangirls to worry about. My phone would undoubtedly crash under the strain of millions of girls, and probably some guys, who would want to comfort the heartbroken famous boy with a good rebound-session.
As if on cue, my phone started buzzing again on the small diner table. I sighed, exasparated and stared out of the window. People passing by, strolling along the sidewalk minding their own daily business. I sometimes wonder if life would have been better that way.
The normal way.
'Just mute the fuckin' thing already man. That phone has made more sounds than you have the past two hours.'
I turned my gaze to a young Denzel Washington sitting in front of me. His buzz-cut was hidden under a bright red New York Yankees cap, fitting well with the rest of his clothes which were all different brands and colors. An outfit only a black guy could pull off and not make it look like the third stage of a midlife-crisis. Add to that an array of tattoo's on both his arms and a small silver earring in his left ear, and there he was.
Ayden.
Of course, Caytlin had told him not two seconds after we'd broken up.
My best friend, or at least he used to be. I'm not sure wether he still is, he has every reason not to want to be my friend at all anymore, and I can't blame him if he wants me to leave. For all the times my friends had reached out to me, I'd had an excuse. They were legit excuses, but I could have definitely put a few of those "important" things aside for them.
Nevertheless, the past two hours Ayden and I have been talking back and forth like old times. It has been way too long since I last saw him. Almost a year, unlike the rest of my friends who I haven't talked to for a year or longer.
It's weird. In a way, it's like Caytlin actually tried to help me. I just
need
someone to fall back on in this situation, and I was sure that Ayden was the only one who wouldn't turn me down. Even after such a long time. And Cay made sure that we were sitting in front of each other right now.
'You know C, I ain't got no idea why you just jumped out on all of us all of a sudden. You just bailed on us from the moment your career started to get some spice and now you come crawling back home.' He paused, looking unsure of what he would say next.
