Page 28 of Game Changer

Chapter11

Buckie

The last few days have been up there among the best days of my life. We’ve talked non-stop about every single part of our lives. It’s easy to let go with her. I’ve told her about all my fears of working in the film and television industry. I don’t know if I’ll ever get over those fears no matter how big my name gets. It’s not so much the acting and landing parts, but all the shit that goes with it. I’ve seen a lot of successful actors succumb to the pressures of the business. It’s as though having a considerable amount of money in your pocket is a green light to go nuts. I’ve always swore I would keep my head down and not give anyone any ammunition to use against me. The press can be dangerous when they get the bit between their teeth on what they think would be a good story. Thanks to them I’ve been romantically linked to every female co-star I’ve had since the first movie I made. Truth is I’ve never once dated a co-star, or anyone I’ve worked with. The women I’ve dated haven’t worked in the industry at all.

A veteran actor told me about a year into my career that it’s a lonely place at the top. I never grasped what he was saying then but, as the years have gone on, I’ve realised he was right. The more famous you become, the less you tend to give of yourself. I can count the people I would call friends in the industry on one hand. When I first started out, I had loads of friends. We were all young and in the same boat, so it made sense to be there for each other. As we’ve each gone our separate ways, we’ve lost touch. Most of us never see each other even though we all live in and around the same city. The less you associate with people the less drama you can become embroiled in.

I know of at least one of a group of former friends I had who died from an overdose. He made a lot of money very fast and the pressure to keep up that momentum got the better of him. He partied hard and got hooked on heroin within a year of making it big. By the time his agent realised he needed help it was too late. It was such a tragic story because he was a talented guy. It’s a shame that he became a Hollywood cliché.

Those types of stories are one of the reasons I’ve considered a move back to the UK. Now I have an even better excuse. I send a text off to Zara.

Hey babe. My apartment is ready. Fancy a lunch date? X

Her reply comes in faster than I was expecting.

Sorry. Can’t. Snowed under. X

Short and sweet. I’ll drop in and see her anyway. I know she’ll be at one of her bars or the club. My parents will be home in a couple of weeks from their holiday, so I empty the fridge of food and put away all the dishes. I also organise a food delivery for them for when they get back. I know whenever I’ve been away filming on location it’s nice to come home to a stocked fridge. At least enough to last me over the few days following my return. It’s one less thing to think about.

I strap my bag to the back of the Harley and lock up the house. A quick check of the grounds and I’m ready to head up the beautiful west coast for Glasgow.

* * *

Ifind Zara at Gemini, and in the middle of what looks like a staffing crisis. She’s behind the bar and it looks like there are only a couple of other staff members around. There’s only one poor young girl serving tables in a very busy lunch service. She looks frazzled. I make my way past a line of waiting customers to the bar.

“Hey babe. What are you doing working behind the bar? You need some help?”

She lifts her head, and a look of shock and relief crosses her face. “Buckie. You’re here. I swear this has been the worst day ever,” she says, her voice wobbling.

I round the bar and hug her tight, letting her know everything will be fine. “Hey. Now there’s nothing happening here that isn’t fixable right?” I move back from her and smooth her hair away from her face. “Go and take five and I’ll pick up here. You know I used to be the best bartender in Glasgow. Who better to help you out?”

I hear whispers from the patrons standing at the bar.

“Is that Owen Buchanan?”

“In here? Don’t be daft.”

“Thanks Buckie. You’ll never know what this means to me,” Zara says kissing my cheek and heading off to the back of the bar.

I turn my attention to the customers at the bar. “Okay ladies what can I get you?”

“Oh my God itisyou,” one of the women giggles.

“Yup I’m me. Now I’m here to help. What can I get you?”

“Eh a white wine and a photo, please?”

“The wine I can do but the photo I’m not so sure about. This place is already busy, if you put it on social media the bar might become flooded with people, and we’d be overwhelmed.”

“I promise I won’t until tomorrow. Pleeeease.” She hops from foot to foot as though she’s a lovestruck teenager.

I know I’ll regret this, but I agree anyway. “Okay but you have to promise.”

“Pinkie promise,” she says holding up her hand. I take her pinkie and she squeals.

“Alright then, hurry up I have customers to serve.”

She hoists herself up to sit on the bar and gets her phone out. I stand behind her and smile and she takes the photo doing that god awful duck pout. Her friends are all egging her on and causing the other customers in the bar to look over to see what the commotion is.

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