Cash searched his pockets and found a pack of cigarettes in his jacket and a lighter in his jeans. He also found condoms, a joint, and matches from a strip club, but tucked those away before the others saw them.
“Mind opening your window for me, Mo?” he asked. “I don’t want to fumigate you guys with secondhand smoke.”
Mo rolled it down but looked slightly disturbed about it.
“Something wrong?” Cash asked her.
“No, I just didn’t know you were a smoker,” she said as if it were a derogatory term. “It’s really bad for you, you know.”
“WHAT?” Cash laughed as he lit his first cigarette. “Since when? Who told you that?”
“You did,” Mo said. “In a D.A.R.E. video we watched in the fifth grade, you said smoking kills and then taught us the anti-addiction dance with a man dressed in a lion costume.”
Cash took a long drag of his cigarette and nodded as the memory returned to him.
“Oh yeah,” he said. “Ironically, that lion was wasted the whole shoot. He kept a flask in his snout.”
Mo’s mouth dropped open like a child learning the truth about Santa Claus.
“So what’s it like being famous?” Joey asked. “I’m sure you get asked that question all the time, but I’d love to know.”
“It fucking sucks,” Cash moaned.
“Really?” Joey asked. It was not the answer he was expecting. “But isn’t it wonderful to have such a big following and to mean so much to so many people?”
“That’s not fame, that’s respect,” Cash said. “Fame is the complete opposite of respect. Fame is getting interrupted every time you have a meal—it’s getting asked favors by complete strangers whenever you step outside—it’s getting asked advice on how to break into the industry from the guy taking a dump in the stall next to you—it’s getting criticized by the whole world and never getting to defend yourself!”
Cash closed his eyes, slowly exhaled a long gust of smoke, and counted to ten to calm himself down. The others looked at the actor like he had momentarily transformed into a werewolf.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “I didn’t mean to go all Black Swan so soon after meeting you. I just hate that our society values it so much. It’s like, plant a fucking tree, you know?”
Joey made a mental note not to bring up the subject again.
“So… what’s it like being respected?”
“Oh, it makes fame worth it,” Cash said cheerfully. “It’s not like either comes with a handbook or anything. I think not being able to separate the two is why so many celebrities struggle with it. But I’m not a fucking psychologist.”
The others nodded politely, but their faces were noticeably longer than before. Just like the actor’s appearance, they were slowly learning Cash’s personality was nothing like Dr. Bumfuzzle’s.
“Tell us what it’s like to work on Wiz Kids,” Topher said. “Is it as much fun as it looks?”
Cash hesitated. “Um… sure,” he said, and quietly faced the window.
“Anything else?” Topher asked teasingly. “Come on, we’ve never met an actor from TV before. We’re dying to know.”
The actor paused, forming the most politically correct and positive answer possible so he wouldn’t upset them.
“Well, a lot of actors love working on television, but every show is different. Our show is more difficult to shoot because of all the special effects and stunts. We’re in production fourteen hours a day, six days a week, nine months a year—so it’s a lot more work than people realize. Sometimes I go days without seeing the sun.”
Mo laughed like he was telling a joke, but there was no punch line.
“Wait, you mean you don’t like it?” she asked.
“That’s not what I said. I’m just suggesting it’s difficult to keep up your energy and enthusiasm when you’ve been on a schedule like that for so many years—no matter how fun it can be. That’s understandable, right?”
Clearly it wasn’t, because Mo looked like someone had taken her childhood, ripped it in half, and thrown it out the window.
“But… but… but you make so much money and make so many people happy in the process. Doesn’t inspiring people make it all worth it—don’t we make it all worth it?”
Cash let out a long sigh. Mo was making him uncomfortable, but not nearly as uncomfortable as she was making her friends.
“Hey, Mo?” Topher interjected. “Why don’t we change the subject and stop berating the man who just flew two thousand miles to be with us.”
“No, it’s all right,” Cash said. “Look, the five of us are going to be together for a while. I’d like this experience to be as authentic as possible, but part of that is getting to be as authentic as possible. I’m glad you like the show and I’m happy to answer as many questions as you want, as long as you stop truth-shaming me.”