The last one sends a creeper-worthy shiver of disgust down my spine. Apparently my viral ad brings out all the freak shows.
At a time like this, I could use the guidance of my big brother, but I know I’ve fucked up too badly to ask. Humiliation isn’t something I deal with well.
Curling into a ball, I wrap my arms around my legging-clad knees. “What the hell am I going to do now?”
Banner’s slouchy sweatshirt slips down over her shoulder, and she tugs it up before shrugging and offering her sage advice.
“There’s really only one thing you can do—ride the wave of notoriety for all it’s worth. Who knows, you might actually get a rich, hot, famous guy who’s hung like a horse. And then you’ll fuck your way into the sunset and live happily ever after with a big cock in your bed every night.”
I toss my arm over my eyes again and groan. I’m so fucked. And not in the way Banner is hoping.
“Fuck you, Westman. I think you broke my goddamned face!”
I didn’t, but Peyton DeLong is a pussy who would think a bitch slap hurts. If I had tried to break his face, he’d be on his way to the ER right now instead of crying over a bloody nose.
I’m not supposed to be throwing real punches on the set anymore, but sometimes a man’s gotta make an exception. I haven’t heard her name in over a year, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let this prick run it through the mud.
“Then keep your mouth shut and learn some fucking manners.” I pitch my voice low, letting a growl invade, and I’m surprised DeLong doesn’t piss himself where he stands.
Hollywood assholes. They don’t know shit about real life. And I’m one of them now. I stop myself from hanging my head at how far my life has veered off the path I thought it would take.
Mitch Stark, the director who pushed me to make the jump from stuntman to legit actor, strides over.
“If you two can’t figure out a way to get through this without another pissing match, I will rain down hell like you’ve never experienced. You won’t be able to buy yourself a decent role when I’m done blackballing you.”
“He started it.”
My fists ache to shut down DeLong’s whine. Those veneers won’t look so perfect scattered on the ground.
The only reason I accepted this role was because of Mitch. DeLong had been an unwelcome late addition to the cast, and I’ll eat Spam and live in my car on skid row before I’ll ever do another film with him.
“I’m done here.” Without wasting another second of brainpower on DeLong, I stride in the direction of my trailer.
“You walking away from me, boy?”
Mitch is one of only two men I’ll let speak to me that way. For a guy on the downhill side of sixty, he’s got some speed in his gait as he tails me down the dusty path.
Good. Means I don’t need to slow down.
“Thought you were done leveling threats, old man.”
The slicing power of his arctic glare would make many an actor blank on a line or blow a cue, but I refuse to fear him. He stomps up the stairs behind me, the aluminum door slapping against the side of the trailer before it slams shut with us both inside.
“You ever going to lose that chip on your shoulder?” Mitch asks, crossing his arms over his chest. Even at his age, he’s still got power in those muscles, and right now he looks like he wants to take me out back and beat some sense into me. Not a chance in hell, regardless of how much I respect him.
“Probably not.” My answer is surprisingly honest.
“Shame, because any other director would toss you off the set and fine you for what you just did.”
I raise my chin, that chip on my shoulder fueling my response. “Then fine me.”
His steely blue gaze bores into me. “I would if I thought it would make a damn difference.”
He’s right. It won’t.
“What do you want from me, Mitch?” I cross my arms over my chest.
“How about an explanation about what set that shit off? You don’t want a reputation as a loose cannon, Cav. It’ll kill your career so fast, you won’t know what happened.”
While I might not have wanted to be Hollywood’s hottest new action star, I’m not ready to give it up either. I’m hooked. Not only on the challenge of it, but being part of creating something that allows millions of people to escape from their lives for a few hours at a time.
I spent plenty of hours trying to escape my childhood reality holed up in a ratty movie theater watching larger-than-life heroes take on the bad guys. The thought of giving that same escape to a kid like me is more than enough to keep me going, and that’s only part of my motivation.
Although at that age, I wondered why bad guys in movies didn’t win like they did in real life. Some lessons are learned early and often.
“Cav, you gonna give me something here or am I talking to myself?”