Page 14 of Fresh Start
It was all the media politics, the coverages, the interviews, the chat shows. All of it. As much as I enjoyed filming and being in front of the camera, it was all the stuff that came after production had completed that I couldn't stand.
I couldn't complain. I'd had an easy life. For the most part. My story went a bit like those strokes of luck one heard often coming from celebrities. College with the highest scores in the theatre, going to one of the country's top drama schools, and getting an agent straight out of it. Flying off to LA for my first gig and getting booked up pretty fast over the next few years. I’d become one of Hollywood's most sought-after actors. It had been a smooth ride. Mostly. The stuff I’d had to do to get there was stuff I'd tried to bury deep into my subconscious.
No, the majority of my life had been easy. So why was I so fed up with it all? I knew the answer of course. It wasn't just the fact that I’d been working on the same film series for nearly a decade, it was everything that went with it. As if I had to be a certain way to be accepted and continue to be accepted in the Hollywood elite club.
Thinking about it, I wished…
No, it was wrong to think that way. And it shouldn't even be something that crossed my mind. But once the seed had been planted, it was hard to snap out of it.
How different would life be if I'd had a rougher start? As ungrateful as that sounded, I wished things hadn't gone as smoothly as they had, and perhaps I would have struggled a bit more, but maybe, just maybe, I would also have lived a little.
The biggest moments of my life were all work-related. Moving countries and continents. Getting the gig for the first film in the franchise. Becoming the forerunner for a multi-billion dollar film series. Breaking records for the biggest opening weekend. Being the first actor playing a superhero to be nominated for an Academy Award.
They were all huge achievements. And I was proud of each and every one of them. But that was all I had.
I was thirty-eight years old, and I'd only had two relationships in my life. The first one had ended in disaster, and it had all been my fault. And the second one had fizzled out when Bryan didn't care to be in the closet with me anymore.
Sometimes I wondered... What if I tried to be with a woman? And not just for the cameras, but really, really, tried? Or what if I came out? What if I gave it all up and started over, if that was even possible at this stage? Would any of it help?
My stomach protested, and not wanting to keep it empty any longer, I started to make my way back to the guest house.
When I finally approached Melody’s, a small wooden, suntrap gazebo caught my eye on the other end. Maybe this would be the perfect spot to let go of all the somber thoughts and get lost in James Sky’s book. Most times it was easier to deal with fictional problems than real ones.
As I got back in my room the same way I’d come out, I checked the time on my watch. It was almost ten. I had no idea how that was possible. I guess times flies in Cedarwood Beach.
I didn’t want to miss breakfast, so instead of jumping in the shower, I headed to the breakfast room upstairs.
As it turned out, the breakfast room wasn’t really a room at all. More of a restaurant taking up the entire floor with floor to ceiling windows and a balcony that gave me the illusion that it was just me and the sea and nothing else at all.
Well, me and the myriad of guests that were occupying the space. I counted the tables, and I was impressed to find over fifteen just inside, with an additional five on the balcony. All of them taken.
Did Melody’s really have fifteen rooms, or was this a proper restaurant for non-guests too?
“Mr. James,” Melody exclaimed and approached me with her hands wide open as if she was about to hug me.
Instead of hugging me, she just placed one hand on my arm and winked at me.
It’d only taken me three seconds to stress about giving my real name to an establishment and exactly five seconds for Melody’s calming presence to reassure me that my stay would remain incognito as long as I did.
And she’d had a point. It’s not like I was known for my voice acting. My face was plastered on billboards, posters, Lunchables, and sippy cups. It wouldn’t be long before word spread that I was in town.
But I would enjoy the anonymity while it lasted. And for all I knew, it was entirely possible to go my entire stay without anyone finding out. What was I going to do in town anyway? Visit my parents and stay at the bed & breakfast reading books.
“You’re after some breakfast, aren’t you?” she said.
“If it’s not too late,” I replied.
“Of course not. But I do have a teensy, little problem,” Melody said and pinched her fingers to show how insignificant her problem was. “I’m all outta tables. You see, with the Butterfly Festival starting today and families spread apart over different hotels, I’ve got a big group that has taken most of my space. Would you mind sharing?”
I must have flinched because she rushed to add.
“Not with them. Just this one other guy. He’s also staying on the down-low, so your secret will be fine.” She said the last bit under her breath.
“If it helps, I could have it in my room,” I said.
“No,” she exclaimed. “You’re on vacation. We’re not going to get you trapped inside your room the whole stay. He’s a lovely guy. Come on. I’m sure he’ll be pleased to meet you.”
And with that, and not being given much of a choice, I was directed to a table outside on the balcony where I saw a hunched figure reaching for something on the floor.
