Page 99 of Beyond the Fame

Traffic is light, so it takes about fifteen minutes before we’re passing the George Washington Bridge on the left and entering Fort Tryon Park in Inwood on the right.

She gasps the moment we arrive at The Met Cloisters.

“I love the Met Cloisters,” she says. “I come here a lot to write.”

I knew that because I stalked her Instagram feed way too many times over the past year. Okay, fine. The past four years.

With Rebecca’s hand in mine, we walk up the stairs to the museum, which specializes in European medieval art and architecture. The building resembles a French Abbey, sitting on a steep hill with two levels. There are medieval gardens, gothic windows, and several chapels. There’s even a walkway where you can stand and view the Hudson River.

“Wait, isn’t it closed?”

“Not for us.”

We enter the double doors at the front and a man who I haven’t seen in years is standing there talking to a woman who I assume to be the museum’s curator.

“Rey Michaelson.”

I greet my long-time friend with the secret handshake we created with Mylan. Rey is shorter than me and built like a machine. He hasn’t been in any movies in years, yet he must still be hitting up the gym to keep up his physique.

“Rey,” Rebecca says with a start. “I remember you. You were supposed to play my brother in Tyler’s Team.”

He lowers his head for a moment, then lifts it with a soft smile. “I was. Sorry I had to drop out last minute because of a family emergency.”

She waves him off. “Please. Do not apologize. Family comes first. My brother meant the world to me and now my friends are more my family, and I would do anything for them. I completely understand.”

“I appreciate that,” he says in his British accent that seems to have lessened over the years living in the states.

“Thank you for doing this,” I say to Rey.

“I owed you for dealing with that producer after I had to leave the project. She was going to put up a fight if you hadn’t stepped in.”

“How are things?”

“They’re getting better. I'm going to stay here in New York for a while. I just bought a place across from Central Park on the Upper East Side. Everyone is pestering me about making a return: my agent, manager, publicist, my fans. I might start auditioning for roles again here soon.”

Rey moved to L.A. with his sister when he was sixteen and she was twenty. She’d been the one to raise him when their parents died two years before that. Once Rey’s career took off after Mayhem was canceled, his sister moved to New Jersey with a guy she met, but Rey stayed on the West Coast. I remember Rey telling me he didn’t like the guy, but his sister seemed happy, and he didn’t want to ruin that.

Then she got pregnant, and the asshole left her. Rey was there for his sister during her pregnancy, and he was there when she died a month after giving birth. He flew back to L.A. a week after burying her to sell his condo and meet with Shyon and me to tell us he had to drop out of the movie and take a break from acting.

He’s been raising his sister's daughter as his own ever since.

“A lot of movies and TV shows film here on the East Coast. You’ll have no problem finding a project,” I say.

He smiles. The same one he gave Rebecca earlier, which doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I just have to get some things worked out first, but yes, it’ll be nice to get back on sets. I’m glad you reached out to me. I’ve been needing my friends back in my life. Mylan recently texted me too.”

I’m about to ask if he wants to meet up while I'm here to talk, but he glances at the woman next to him. She has light gray hair styled into a tight bun at the nape.

“I have to go get ready, but this is Willa Henderson. She’ll take you to the room where you’ll be changing.” He turns to Rebecca. “It was nice to officially meet you.”

Rebecca waves goodbye and the moment he leaves, she slaps the back of her hand on my chest. I pretend it hurt.

“What are you up to?”

“Mister Boliver, Miss Taylor. Please follow me.”

The woman walks further into the museum, and I keep having to tug Rebecca along. She's wanting to stop and admire all the old artifacts, which I know she's seen dozens of times before. Willa veers off through a door that takes us down a hallway not meant for the public.

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