“Actually, yeah, yes. Nice to meet you.” He offered an outstretched palm to Boyfriend for a handshake as Girlfriend started getting all wide-eyed and gaga. “Oh my God! You’re really him! You’re Trip Wiley.”
Boyfriend looked at her questionably, astonished that she knew his name, but said, “Dude. You were great! The movie was awesome! We already decided we’re coming back to see it again when it opens next week.”
Trip shot a look at me, both of us startled by this news. He responded, “Well, thank you, that’s... unexpect-”
“Hey! Can we get an autograph?” Girlfriend asked. She rummaged around in her purse and came up with a pen and a piece of paper, which she held out to him with shaky hands. I was completely flustered by this whole scene, but Trip managed to make it look like it was no big deal; sure, of course, no problem, it happens all the time. “Who do I make this out to?”
Some other people had started filing out of the theater by then, but they walked right by the four of us without a second glance. I overheard snippets of conversation from the exiting moviegoers, from the group of teenaged girls who were giggling, “What was his name?” to the two middle-aged women who were actually fanning themselves as they laughed and discussed that “gorgeous blond hunk”. If they only knew.
Trip finished his writing, and Brandi-with-an-i took her prize back from him, gazing at it as though she were in possession of the Holy Grail. I was watching the steady stream of people, thinking that we’d better get out of there before he got recognized again. Trip must have been thinking the same thing. He grabbed my hand and said, “Okay, Brandi, have a nice night.”
She gave him a dazed thank you, and Trip started walking backwards, offering, “No problem. And hey-Thanks for coming out to see the film.”
We got a few steps away, blending back in with the general populace again, when I heard Brandi yell, “Wait! Is that your girlfriend? Do you have a girlfriend?”
I shot a yikes look at Trip before checking over my shoulder to see what appeared to be a brewing argument between his two new friends. Brandi’s boyfriend probably didn’t appreciate his girlfriend throwing herself at another guy. Go figure.
Trip either was unaware, or had simply chosen to ignore his newest fan’s desperate questions, because the only commentary he offered about the encounter was, “I really gotta work on that parting line. ‘Thanks for coming out to see the film’? God, I sounded like an idiot.”
I laughed, still struck by what had just transpired back there outside the theater. “No you didn’t. You sounded humble. People like when famous people are humble. I thought you handled it great. Does that happen a lot?”
“Not really. Well, sometimes. But I expect it at premieres and stuff or whenever I’m at a Hollywood party or something. Not so much just living my life. You know, when I’m just being me and not... him.”
I couldn’t really appreciate the magnitude of that statement, because right then, I was just happy to be with whatever version of Trip was holding my hand.
Chapter 17
BEAUTIFUL CREATURES
I’d originally suggested going to Lindy’s for some of their famous cheesecake, even though I knew it was basically a tourist trap. But who cared? Trip was kind of a tourist, and it was one of those places out-of-towners liked to go. But he was a little uneasy about going to such a sightseeing landmark and being put on public display. After our encounter with the couple at the theater, he didn’t want to take the chance of being recognized again. Plus, with his ripped jeans and baseball hat, he’d felt he was underdressed. I thought that with a mug like his, no one in their right minds would even notice, must less flinch at the sight of him wearing even a Hefty bag out in public.
It was sad that he had to concern himself about such things, already sacrificing any sort of private life because of his chosen career. From what I’d been able to absorb from his newest movie, I figured the fame situation was only going to get worse. His role in Swayed was a star-making performance in a blockbuster movie. When it officially premiered the following week, there would hardly be a person left on the planet who didn’t know the name Trip Wiley.
But for the time being at least, we were able to sit in relative obscurity in a booth at some no-name eatery on 45th, polishing off the rest of our late-night snack. Seemed like old times, just sitting in a diner with Trip, as we licked the last remnants of whipped cream off our lips.
Off our own lips. Just wanted to be clear on that.
I’d had the Snickers pie, and Trip had opted for the apple. With vanilla ice cream. And a side order of cheese fries with gravy. And an egg cream, the last of which he slurped out of the bottom of his glass.