4 comments/ 22920 views/ 10 favorites Acting Principles By: Basra "Do you have any interesting roles lined up for me, Jin?" I asked my agent in his office. "Denzel Washington needs a girlfriend for his new action flick. That seems interesting." said Jin, flipping through his papers. I rolled my eyes. "Cut the bull, Jin. How about a leading role? Ever since 'Letting It Go', I've been trying to get to another role like that." Jin shook his work. "Those kinds of roles simply aren't out there." "Those kinds of roles aren't out there for me, you mean." I said, leaning back. "That's why the TV. series didn't work out. That's why I get more attention for carrying a Louis Vinton bag than for my movies." "You knew it was going to be an uphill battle from the beginning, Gav. If you think it's bad for you, think about an Asian man trying to get a leading role without knowing karate or kung fu. Ha!" Jin used to be a stunt man before becoming my agent. As a man of Japanese descent, he understood the lack of diversity in Hollywood. Even though I was an attractive, intelligent woman, I was also black. That automatically cut my desirability by at least fifty percent. I had been lucky. I hadn't had to resort to play any of the stereotypical crack head or baby mama roles that most black starlets had to start out doing. My African American fan base appreciated my standards, but few white people had even heard of me, even though I had acting alongside LL Cool J, Jaime Foxx, Eddie Murphy, and others. Sometimes, I wondered if it was even worth it to have standards. "It's fucked up." I usually tried to stay positive, but it was my 28th birthday. After seven years in the business, I was still mostly unrecognizable to people on the street. "Denzel Washington had to play a crooked cop to win an Oscar. Halle Berry had to play an abusive mother to get an Oscar. I think I'm seeing a theme. Play what they see us as already, and you get rewarded. What the fuck?" "This is nothing new, Gav. At least you're getting steady work." "It's the same steady work. A random, slightly interesting doctor. Someone's black best friend. Would it be too much to ask to be someone's boss for a change? Or, God forbid, someone's black girlfriend?" "Times are changing. Not as fast as we would like them to, but they are. Tyler Perry is really changing the industry right now. Other black directors and writers will be more mainstream in another five years." "I don't want to stay in my little black woman box. I want to be able to play any role Hillary Swank can play, or Charlize Theron can play. I don't want to be another pretty face." "Then I suggest you go low budget. Keep your face out there in minor supporting roles in Hollywood, and I'll try asking around for more indie roles for you." "Low budget indie films? That wouldn't be taking a step backward?" "Hillary Swank did 'Boys Don't Cry'. Hell, John Travolta was a has-been when 'Pulp Fiction' came out. If you want to get recognized, you have to do something different." "No drug use." Jin sighed. "You're tying my hands here, Gav." "I mean it. I don't mind dressing up as a man, or even doing a love scene. But I'm not going to set a bad example." "A bad example to who? Your fan base is made up of black college students and young professionals. They aren't pre-teens." "Jin-" "Alright. But if a good role comes along that really stands out, and you pass it up for your high morals, don't say I didn't tell you so." Jin leaned back in his chair, getting comfortable. "Do you have any plans for your birthday?" "Not really." I told him. "I'm still pretty much the loner I always was, and with my family being back home..." "Let me take you out." he said with a straight face. All of a sudden, he was looking at me with an intensity that made me uncomfortable. Jin was a very handsome man, but I wasn't attracted to him. I shook my head with a nervous smile. "No. That wouldn't be a good idea. You can't mix business with pleasure." "Are you blowing me off because I'm not an Asian woman?" asked Jin, tilting his head to study me. I was shocked. "Ex-excuse me. What?" "You don't look at women the same way you look at men. You know. The way you should." "Oh my God." I couldn't look at him. He found me out. "I kind of guessed when you kept showing up to all the award shows alone, never paying anyone with an XY chromosome any attention. And the way you hit on Rose Rollins from 'The L Word' was real smooth. If I didn't have a gay cousin, I would have never caught on." "I didn't know she was straight." I said meekly. "Luckily for you, she still doesn't have a clue you're gay." I stared at him. "You're not going to out me, are you?" "I care too much about you to do that. Besides, I'm your agent. That would be sabotaging the both of us." Jin sighed. "I shouldn't have even mentioned it. It's just...if there was any chance of anything happening between the two of us, I wanted to take it." I nodded. "I can understand that." I grinned. "And if you were an Asian girl, I would go out with you." Jin looked away. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have made a joke about it." "It's okay. You have fun on your birthday." "Thanks. I will." I got out of there as soon as I could. Well that's just great. I thought. Not only does my agent know I'm gay, he wants to go out with me. Just my fucking luck. I drove my leased Hybrid sedan from Jin's office, and around Tinsel Town aimlessly. I had no idea what to do. Jin wasn't as underhanded as most agents were, but when someone's heart was involved, there was no telling what they were capable of. I just kept turning it over and over again in my head. If my parents knew, they'd disown me. I didn't want to disappoint them after I had come so far. And my fans would go running for the hills! Being gay in the black community was something that wasn't even discussed by most people. With all my driving around, I finally made it back to the place where I had spent my last few birthdays: Tiny's. Tiny's was a little coffee shop off of 30th and Grove, nothing much to look at really inside or out, except for the funky revolving door it had. It was a hangout for anyone trying to break into the industry. Actors, screenwriters, and directors who hadn't shot one reel of tape all hung out here. Established actors believed it was beneath them to even set foot in Tiny's. The truth was, I just wanted to be out of a tight, designer gown that cost more than my car. I wanted to be myself, without all the networking, the limp handshakes and fake smiles. Thankfully, I wasn't recognized. There were a few stares, but I think it was because I looked vaguely familiar. I wasn't a household name, just one of the occasional celebrities you see in the fashion section of the tabloids. I didn't mind. I just needed some time to think about getting into the indie business. I ordered a roast beef sandwich to go along with my stale coffee. While I was eating, I noticed a younger white woman with frizzy brown hair eating alone. I pegged her for a writer. Anyone else would have known better than to be seen outside their home with bad hair, glasses, and ill-fitting clothes. In Hollywood, image is everything. If you don't at least look interesting when you have horrible fashion sense, you might as well try another profession. The woman looked straight at me and caught my eye. There was something about her smile that disarmed me instantly. I found myself staring back, before I remembered what Jin had said about the obvious way I looked at women. I hurriedly finished my sandwich and left Tiny's, going out of the revolving door. The woman left right behind me and bumped into me by mistake. "Oh! I'm sorry!" she apologized. "I'm still getting used to these revolving doors. I'm Amy." I hesitated before giving her my name. "I'm Gavin." "Gavin? Why a boy's name?" She didn't say it in a cruel or flippant way, so I felt comfortable answering. "My parents thought I would be a boy for some reason." "It must be because you have a strong personality." I shrugged. "I stand up for what I believe in. In general, anyway." "It's hard to do that around here." "Not really. People just have to sacrifice for what they really want. Most just settle." "You sound like you know a lot about sacrifice." I looked away. "You have no idea." I don't know why I didn't walk away then. There was just something about Amy I couldn't put my finger on. There was something else underneath her homely exterior. Something in her strange gray-green eyes, cloudy and dark. "So what do you do, Amy?" "I'm going to be a screenwriter. Right now I'm a dishwasher, but that's only temporary." She stopped speaking and looked down at her feet. "Everyone says that. Don't they?" I couldn't bring myself to be too negative. "Yes, until they make it. Anything's possible." Amy looked at her watch. "Oh my God. We've been talking for more than sixty seconds. That's got to be a record around here." I broke into the first genuine laugh I had had all week. "Has to be." "If you don't mind my asking, what's someone like you doing in a place like this? You're obviously an actress who's been a few films." I looked away. "I don't know. I don't get a thrill slumming. I just feel more comfortable here than most places." I felt comfortable telling her that. She seemed genuinely curious. "To tell you the truth, I've been coming here for the past three years on my birthday. Before that, I was a regular." "Happy birthday! How old are you? Let me guess...twenty-four?" I smiled shyly. "Thank you, but I'm a bit older than that." "You can't be too much older. You look gorgeous and you haven't had plastic surgery." "You really think so?" It always surprised me when I got compliments on my appearance. I had been one of the only black girls in my hometown, and the darkest of the bunch. I wasn't really considered ugly as much as I was considered...odd. It felt good to have people call me adjectives like 'beautiful' and 'pretty' without having 'exotic' or 'unique' attached. And 'gorgeous' was my favorite adjective. "Yes. I guess you hear that all the time." "Not as often as you think. I'm just another pretty face." "You're not just pretty. You're gorgeous!" Amy was so adamant about it I half-wondered if she was making a pass at me. I decided she wasn't. "I'm sure you have a boyfriend or something waiting at home." I shook my head. "I definitely don't have a boyfriend." "Why not? I'm sure all kinds of men come your way." I shrugged. "Just don't have the time." I lied effortlessly. I usually didn't think twice about that little lie, but after Jin had asked me out and questioned my sexuality, I felt hollow on the inside. "You must be an in demand actress. I'm sure you get to travel all over." "Actually, I've only been out of the country twice. Both times to Toronto." Amy nodded. "A lot of films are shot there. It must have been fun though. Interesting at least, right?" I smiled, remembering. "Yes. It was funny because I got Toronto mixed up with Quebec. I thought I would have to learn French, but it turns out Toronto is on the English speaking side of Canada. Three classes of basic French for nothing." "But it wasn't for nothing. I'm sure you can impress someone with a little French if you wanted to." "Not really. Just enough to make conversation." "So, you understand Je suis Hamptan, Nebraska." "You're from Hamptan?" I couldn't believe it. "Yes. I was there most of my life. You've heard of it?" "I was raised there." "No kidding? That's so weird! " "Did you graduate from the high school? Is Mrs. Glass still teaching drama?" "As a matter of fact, yes to both questions. She really inspired me to come out here and follow my dreams." "Me too. I had always wanted to be an actress before, but never quite had the confidence. Believe it or not, her acting principles really helped." "Really?" I nodded and smiled. "Really. Acting Principle Number One is the best. 'If you get the opportunity, don't fake it'. I'm a firm believer in method acting." "So every time you've cried on camera, you've really made yourself sad." "I've had to. Unless I was sad already." "Wow. No wonder you get work. You're gorgeous. You can cry on command. You're a director's dreamboat!" I was flattered. "Thank you." I thought she was just buttering me up so I could take a look at one of her scripts, but that wasn't it at all. "I feel funny asking you to do this, considering you're probably off to a big birthday bash, but would you like to just, I don't know, hang out?" "You really are from Hamptan." I said mildly. Amy turned a bright shade of red. "I'm sorry-" "I didn't mean that in a bad way. Here people just network. I can't remember the last time I talked to someone just because." she smiled at me again, breaking down seven years of carefully wrought defenses. "Did you have any place in mind?" "I know it sounds crazy, but I like the park." I wasn't sure I heard her right. "The park?" "It's funny how I spent most of my life trying to get away from all that Nebraska grass, and now I miss it." "I know what you mean." The only place I really wanted to be was back home. But after accepting the fact that I was gay, that was out of the question. Amy pulled out her cell phone. "I'll call a cab." "That's okay. I've got a car." I led her over to my Lexus, and we both got in. "Nice car. But why not a Cadillac or a Benz like everyone else?" "I've always liked Lexus's." I shrugged. "Call me crazy." "You have good taste." She told me, running her fingers over the butter-soft leather interior. "I've always liked sedans. I'm glad the SUV craze is finally over with." I started up my car and started driving. "They'll probably be back in another twenty years. It's funny how everything old is recycled." "Yeah. Obama's wife dresses like Jackie-O-" "No she doesn't. They just have a similar look." There was an edge in my voice. I hated the assumption that black people only wore tube tops and booty shorts. "Oh." Amy grew quiet. "I'm sorry. It's just...I've never gotten used to certain comments about black people. My agent says my skin's too thin." "I didn't mean to offend you. All I meant was that they have a similar, classic style." She touched my arm. "It must be really hard for you." she sympathized. "I try not to complain, but yes, it is hard." I felt my body tense. I was trying my best not to react to her, but I didn't think she noticed anyway. "What kind of scripts do you write?" "I've written a horror movie, and a little indie piece about life in a small town." I looked at her knowingly. "That small town wouldn't happen to be based on Hamptan, would it?" She blushed a pretty shade of pink. "Maybe." Amy told me more about her script. I could relate to the feelings of claustrophobia and boredom experienced by the main character. After all, I had lived in Hamptan myself. "Do you have any projects lined up for the future?" I shrugged. "I don't really know. I mean, I've been offered a few things, but it's the same stuff. It's awful being typecast." "Could be worse." said Amy, giving me that smile again. "You could be no-cast." I found myself smiling back at her. It was a genuine smile, not the plastic Barbie doll grimace I displayed on the red carpet. "That's true." "I knew I could get a smile out of you! What's a birthday without a smile?" Amy clapped her hands in glee. I pulled into the park. The park was known for it's historic water fountain, a late 30's pink marble construct. The whole thing was several yards around with a Roman statue of Venus in the middle, sitting in a clam shell. We both sat next to the fountain, right in front of the Venus statue. "Do you know why there aren't any coins in the water fountain?" I asked her. "No. Why not?" "It's supposed to be cursed. You'll get whatever you desire, but you'll suffer for it." "Be careful what you wish for, huh?" Amy asked. I nodded. "Have you ever put a coin in the fountain?" I shook my head. "I guess I'm superstitious like that." Amy took off her glasses. "I don't know why I'm still wearing these. I only need them for reading." She clipped them onto her shirt. I blinked. Without her large, coke bottle glasses taking up half her face, Amy was beautiful. "You okay?" she asked, noticing the change in my expression. "Yes. I'm alright." I looked away quickly, not wanting to embarrass myself. Before I knew it, Amy was throwing a quarter into the fountain. "Why'd you do that?" I asked in a panic. "I think wishing you a happy birthday was worth it. Besides, I'll be paying the price. Not you." There was a mysterious undertone in her voice I didn't understand. "No one should have to pay a price for a wish. Wishes should be free." I said quietly. "Acting Principle Number Five: If it's too easy, it's not good enough." I nodded. "Yeah." "Can I ask you something? I can understand if you don't want to answer. I mean, you hardly know me." I made myself look at her. Did she realize she was beautiful? The kind of natural beauty that made me nervously clench my clutch against my body at a movie premiere, or make me look away in a public restroom? "Ask." "Are you happy? You've only smiled the one time since we've talked. And now you look..." her voice trailed off. "What? Tell me." "Miserable. Like you're suffering." I smiled sadly. "I've been found out." "Is everything alright back home? Are you homesick?" "Yes and no." I couldn't really admit that I was homesick for my little hometown. People would think I was nuts! "Are you pining after someone?" She nudged me playfully. "Come on. I bet that's it." I closed my eyes, remembering all the bad luck I had trying to hook up with another closeted woman. Nothing had worked out. "I guess." "We should go out tonight. Someplace fun with lots of new people. There's this club over on 21st and Main that just opened up-" "I'd rather not." I was sick of rejecting men, whether or not they just wanted conversation. I tossed my hair nervously. "I think I'll just have a quiet evening at home." "But is that what you want?" Amy asked with that smile. I looked away. She was giving me butterflies in my stomach, and I was finding it hard to breathe. "No." I managed to say. "But that's the price I have to pay." "Sounds to me like you're punishing yourself for something." She looked into my eyes searchingly. I felt panicky. Did she know? "Are you...a reporter?" I changed my words at the last second. "Me? I don't think I'd be staking out Tiny's for someone like you, wouldn't you agree?" I sighed, in both relief and frustration. "I guess. It's just so weird how I met you." Amy nodded. "Imagine two women from Hamptan meeting like this. And on your birthday!" I didn't say anything. I felt Amy take my hand. "Come on, Gavin. What's wrong?" Her compassion nearly stopped my heart. Here she was, a random stranger, worried about me, holding my hand like an old friend. "I have a secret. I'm-" A couple walked by our bench, and I shut my mouth. I stood up. "I can't do this." "Is there some place we can talk privately? I hate to see you like this." She wasn't making a pass at me, she was genuinely concerned. "I live in a condo." I said quietly. I bit my lip as soon I said it, knowing I sounded like an idiot. She looked at me strangely. "What?" "I mean, I live Beverly Hills. We can go there." I drove her to my home. I couldn't help wondering what was going to happen. What was I doing with this woman? Surely she wanted something from me. No one was that altruistic. I parked my car and hesitated. "What do you want from me?" "Just eat the birthday cake I'm going to bake for you. A Nebraska girl like you has got to have some flour and eggs somewhere, right?" She smiled again, and I knew I was down for the count. Acting Principles I swallowed hard. "Right." Amy touched my hair, picking up several strands and dropping them. "I promise you'll like it." Somehow, I found the strength to lead her upstairs to my second floor condo. Amy wasted no time getting into the kitchen, pulling her hair up away from her face with a scrunchy. I looked away again. It only took a small thing to make her look beautiful. "Where do you keep your flour?" "In the fridge." I said, looking down while trying to catch my breath. "That's a funny place for flour." I heard her retrieve it. "Any reason why you keep it in there?" "I never know if I have to go out of town. I don't like cleaning out my cabinets every month." I found myself looking at her again, and she just smiled right back. "I bet I can guess where your mixing bowls are. Second from the left, right?" "Yes." Amy got out the mixing bowl, found measuring spoons, and my hand mixer without having to ask. "You look like the type of birthday girl who likes...lemons." "Lemons?" I was surprised that she guessed correctly. "Yes. I love lemon cake." "A lemon cake it is then." She retrieved several fresh lemons and sugar from my fridge, along with vanilla from my cupboard. "Pure vanilla extract? You're more of a cook than you let on." "I try to cook for myself as much as I can. Keeps me in shape." "It shows." Amy said appreciatively. My cheeks burned. What was I thinking letting her cook for me? "Thank you." For the entire time she mixed the batter, my eyes were glued to her, and every time she looked at me, she smiled. It was a warm, glowing smile, without pretense, without any ulterior motive. Just a smile. God. I thought. I'm falling for her, and she's not even gay. Amy poured the batter into my bundt tin and put it into the oven. "Want to lick the batter?" She asked with a devious grin. I cleared my throat. "I really shouldn't. I'm watching what I eat-" "On your birthday? Come on! Just one lick." Amy handed me a batter-covered spoon. I took it, staring at it stupidly before I hesitantly took a lick. The batter was good. In fact, it was damn good. The lemon, vanilla, and sugar made my whole body react. "Mm. Wow..." "Good isn't it?" asked Amy, taking a lick herself. She laughed when she got a bit of it on her chin, and wiped it away. "The fresh lemons made all the difference." "If the cake is as good as the batter, I'm in trouble." She smirked. "Yes you are." I found myself looking away and coughing. "You okay?" "Yeah." I lied. "I'll make the frosting while the cake is in the oven." Amy whipped up some cream cheese, sugar, and more lemons in my blender, and set the mixture aside in the fridge until the cake was ready. We passed the time talking about home. Amy had lived only ten miles from me her entire life, but since we hadn't gone to school together, we had never met. Before we knew it, the oven timer was ringing, and Amy took the cake out. After it was cooled, she spread the frosting. The golden yellow lemon cake smothered in light yellow cream cheese frosting looked delicious. "I don't know what to say. This has got to be the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me the whole time I've been in Hollywood." "Less talking, more eating." said Amy, handing me a knife. "Birthday girl gets the first cut." I chose a decent piece for myself, but Amy took an even bigger piece. I gave her a strange look. "What? I don't have to diet." She explained as I chuckled at her. I took a bite of my cake, and experienced an explosion of lemony goodness. "Oh my God. Wow..." "You like it?" "Yes! The lemon is intense!" I had always loved lemon cakes, but no ever used enough lemon for my taste. Amy had, however. I messily ate all my cake in about thirty seconds. "That was really good." Amy reached over and wiped a piece of frosting from my mouth with her finger. She licked it deliberately. "You're right. That is really good." I choked. "Yeah...uh...yeah...it's...um, delicious." She leaned towards me. "It's wasn't good just because of the lemons." I was frightened, but I couldn't look away. "Really? What do you mean?" She kissed me then. A slow, hungry kiss that lit up my body even more than the lemon cake. "I've got a birthday present for you. You can take it or leave it." The desire in her eyes was naked now, or maybe I hadn't recognized it before. "There's more? How could there be more?" I said weakly. Amy ran her finger down the side of my face. "I'll do whatever you want me to do to you." I was in shock. Was this really happening to me? I pulled away, frightened. "No offense, but we just met a few hours ago. Not to mention that I'm as closeted as it gets." Amy looked hurt. "I guess I came on a little strong didn't I?" "Actually, you were really sweet. You weren't too grabby or too...anything. This was nice." "But nice girls finish last, don't they?" Amy looked down. "Can I use your bathroom?" "First door on you left in the hallway." She rushed off, and I just stood there. I really screwed up. I thought. Why couldn't I let my guard down for once? We're both attractive, we both want to fuck each other! What the hell is wrong with me? I spent a few miserable minutes debating what I should do before I decided to after her. I knocked on the bathroom door. "Amy? Are you okay?" Amy didn't respond, and I felt horrible. I assumed she was in there crying silently because I had rejected her. "Listen, I've been thinking about your...present, and I think I'll take it. You, I mean." I heard her muffled laughter through the door. "I was hoping you would! Come in!" I opened the door, and was struck dumb by her beauty. She was sitting on my sink with absolutely nothing on. Her body was generally athletic, with small pink-tipped breasts, a toned stomach, and slim legs. She spread her legs slightly, revealing her already glistening pussy. "Thank you for not making me wait long." She leaned back, tossing her hair. "Aren't you going to have another taste?" My eyes burned into hers, and I was in between her legs before I could think about it. My kiss was hungry, and I devoured her mouth, wanting to know every square inch of her lips, her tongue, her teeth. I pulled back, afraid that I was getting too crazy, but her eyes told me I was doing just fine. I felt her legs lock around my hips tightly as we started grinding. I started thrusting against her as hard as I dared, making her whole body shake. She cried out each time, twining her fingers in my hair. Suddenly, she made a choking sound, and I felt her legs tremble in frantic sporadic tremors. "Oh my God!" I said, certain I'd hurt her. She slumped onto my shoulders. "That was...you have no idea how good you made me feel." she whispered into my neck. I had some idea. My pants were soaked from her leaking pussy. "No fair making me cum first." She removed her legs from my waist, and slid her hands down my zipper, clicking it with her fingernail. Amy carefully unzipped my pants, revealing my white boy shorts. She laughed. "What?" "I pegged you for a thong girl." she explained, biting her lip playfully. I kissed her, and my taste in underwear was forgotten. I started grinding against her again, but Amy stopped me. "Wait. Don't you want to get off?" She didn't wait for an answer. She hopped down from the sink and started taking off my clothes. "Jesus. Don't you look good enough to eat?" She said, tapping her lip with a finger. "And I think I will." Before I could protest, she was kissing my pussy, parting my lips with her fingers. Amy fluttered her tongue against my slit, making my legs weak. I backed up against a wall. Amy moved with me, never breaking contact with my pussy. "Oh! Ah...huh...oh!" I panted. Her greedy mouth devoured me relentlessly. I felt like I would die from the pleasure it felt so good. I bucked my hips against her mouth once, twice, and came. I felt so good, I would have slid down to the floor if Amy hadn't held me up. "Where's your bedroom?" she stood up and proceeded to suck on my left tit. "Mm...next door over." She put her arm around my waist, and we entered the room. Amy sat down on my bed, spreading her legs for me again. I got on top of her, and explored her body, feeling her soft skin over toned muscle. I kissed her firm breasts, teasing her nipples with my hands and tongue. I nipped the soft skin of her neck, making her cry out and mold herself to my body. I looked at her facial expression. Her face was flushed, her eyes half-open and cloudy, and she was taking deep breaths. Her heart was pounding underneath my fingertips. I moved my hand from her chest and swirled my fingers down to her pussy. Still nervous, I looked at Amy to do what I so desperately wanted. Amy touched the side of my face, gently running her hands over my chin. "Don't stop." I pressed two fingers inside of her , watching her body. Once I saw I wasn't hurting her, I started stroking her, her pussy clenching me like warm pulsing velvet. I felt her long, strong fingers close over wrist in encouragement. "Harder." she whispered. I complied, pushing harder and faster. She groaned suddenly, stopping my hand. "Right there." She told me, guiding my fingertips to a particularly fleshy part of her interior. "That's my spot." I proceeded to give her what she wanted, rubbing her G-spot like a genie's lamp. I felt her contract around my fingers, and she screamed. Anyone within hearing distance would have thought I was killing her. I wasn't so sure I hadn't. She was lying flat on her back, barely moving. "Are you okay?" She grinned, stretching out your arms above her head. "Oh, yes..." After a minute or two, she sat up to kiss me. "Thank you." "I should be thanking you." I ran my fingers through her hair, studying her face. "Out of ideas?" she asked mischievously. "No. I'd just like to be with you...like this for a while." I pressed my nose into her neck, inhaling her aroma which smelled faintly of lemons and peppermints. "It feels good just holding you." I felt her cup my ass softly. "It does, doesn't it?" I looked into her eyes for the truth. "Why me? How did you know?" "You were hungry. Like I was." She ran her hands up the middle of my back. "How long has it been?" "Not since college. When I came out here to L.A., I couldn't risk any rumors, so I didn't try...this." I found myself wondering if my frantic fingerings in the dark with my roommate even counted after being with Amy. "Until recently. You were looking. After so many years, you just couldn't help yourself." Amy gave me several light kisses along my collarbone. "No wonder you were so rough." "I didn't mean to be-" "It's okay. Really." she chuckled. "I don't think I ever came so hard in my life!" We laughed together. "Well, that's a good to hear!." I looked at her shyly. "Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are Amy?" She hugged me, pressing her head against my shoulder. "No one's meant it as much as you, Gavin." I grinned as wide as I could. "You think so?" "Now that's a smile." she said, looking up at me. She caressed the little dimple in my right cheek. "That's a gorgeous smile. Tell me why you hold it back." "Because it wasn't a real smile before. I wasn't happy." "Did I make you happy?" I chuckled, kissing her hand. "You did. You really did." Amy kissed my neck. "You know, I really worked up and appetite. I'll bring us some lemon cake and milk." I reluctantly let her go, and was simultaneously flooded with worried thoughts. Was this a one night stand, or something more? Had this been a setup? Was she going to blackmail me? The way she let me do whatever I wanted to her was just too perfect. And I knew everything in Hollywood came at a high price. Amy was back before I knew it. "Amy, we need to talk." "I don't want anything from you. I didn't approach you because I knew you were a celebrity. I just wanted you." "That's it?" "Sometimes things are a lot more simple than we think." She took a sip of her milk, and I did the same. "How simple are they?" "As simple as two people meeting in a crowded room." She dipped her cake in her milk, and laughed when it fell apart. "As simple as homemade cake and milk." She gave me that smile of hers again. "You look really sexy when you eat." I chuckled. "Really?" I guzzled half my milk. "Easy, girl!" She said, panicking. "You'll get a stomachache when you wake up." I grinned unabashedly. "I don't plan on sleeping." I leaned over and kissed her. "You don't feel a little tired?" I drank more milk. "Why would I feel tired?" Amy shrugged, and for the first time, I saw her smile restrained. "I don't know." My head started to feel funny, like I had a long day on set and my body was exhausted. Amy looked at me. "You can feel it now, can't you?" My eyes were closing on their own. "What-?" "Melatonin. It's a chemical your body produces to make you sleep. All natural. When you wake up, you won't feel any different." I tried to get up, but I ended up falling back on the bed. My body was too relaxed to be much good to me. "I did it so you wouldn't follow me. I didn't think you would want me this much. I didn't know how long it had been for you." I couldn't keep my eyes open any more, but I could still hear her voice. "Like I told you before. I was only interested in you. Everything in your house and car will be like you left it." I faintly heard her start to cry. "The letter I'm leaving on your nightstand will explain everything." I felt her lips on mine briefly. "Goodbye." Amy covered me with a blanket and I heard her leave. All I could do was go to sleep. When I woke up, I immediately looked over to my right. No Amy. "Damn it!" I cursed. I got up and checked my house and car from top to bottom for anything stolen or out of order, but like she told me, nothing was touched. I went back into my bedroom, and unfolded several sheets of notebook paper with my name on the outside. "Gavin, I'm Amy. That's the only true thing I've told you about me. I'm not from Hamptan. I'm not a struggling screenwriter. I started off the way women do in this town, hoping to be the world's greatest actress. At least that's what I wanted three years ago. Because I was injured in a car accident, I was forced to borrow money from some really shady guys. As compensation, they're making me do some pretty nasty things. No. That's not quite being completely honest, and you deserve to know everything. I'm working for them as a prostitute, and I've been one for a year and a half. I'm not asking for your help, I'm just explaining how you caught my attention. About three months ago, I was home alone on a Sunday. I was watching some low budget movies on Channel 11, and I saw your first film, 'Cheer-Off'. I don't know if you are proud of it or not, but it really made an impression on me. What caught my attention was the presence you had in that role. Even though you weren't the lead actress, every time you were on screen, you stole her thunder. I probably sound like a nutty fan girl, but I couldn't breathe watching you. There was a strength you had that came out in your voice, your expression, your body language that I couldn't shake from my memory. I watched more of your movies, and scoured the internet for your old television guest starring roles. The more I saw of you the more my attraction grew. Watching you act during my days made me forget about my horrible nights, and dulled my pain when nothing else could. Not once have you disrespected yourself in a role that didn't live up to your standards. Not once did you degrade yourself for a laugh or more money. I deeply commend you for that. About a month ago, I started wondering if there was anyway I could possibly repay you for all the good work you've done. At first I thought I'd just send you a letter, but I didn't know how you treated your fans. I wanted to thank you personally, and give you something of myself from my heart. That may sound like nothing considering what I do for a living, but it's the truth. Whether or not you choose to believe that is up to you. I went back to my old acting hangouts, and asked around about you. I eventually found out that you're always in Tiny's for your birthday. I read all your interviews about yourself and your hometown and learned as much about you as I could. Then I started preparing myself for the role of my life: Amy, a mousy wannabe screenwriter. I'm afraid it was an all an act. At least in public. I was genuinely concerned about you. Imagine my surprise when I realized you were miserable on your birthday! I couldn't resist baking for you, it's something I love. But I was even more surprised at how badly you wanted me, as much as I wanted you. You'll never know how grateful I am to you for that. You must hate me. I wonder if you finished reading this at all, or if you stopped reading at the word 'prostitute' and are screaming at your personal physician for a blood test. I'm sorry I lied, but I didn't know of any other way to approach you. And I don't think you would have been happy any other way if I hadn't given you all of me. I hope you continue acting. You inspire women of all races, whether or not you believe it. I think I would have done something...terrible to myself if I hadn't discovered your work. Be angry, cry, curse, yell or scream about what I've done. But please don't stop acting. -Amy" I sat back in bed and hugged my pillow, in total shock. I didn't know what to do. Was she serious? Had I really slept with a prostitute who had wanted nothing in return for sex? I couldn't believe it. I decided she must be planning to blackmail me. I waited several days, but I received no threatening letters or phone calls. I didn't hear from Amy at all. I felt like I was walking on eggshells for a week. Ever since my night with Amy, I was more attracted to women then ever before. Whenever an attractive women came within ten feet of me, I forced myself to look away. And I thought everyone knew what I had done as soon as they looked at me. I couldn't look anyone in the eye without thinking they were judging me. I started asking about Amy at Tiny's. Of course, the only story they knew was the one Amy had told me: that she was a struggling screenwriter. No one knew who she really was. I finally called Jin and told him I'd be unavailable for auditions for at least a week. I had my own role to play if I was going to find Amy. I started dressing like a female version of a pimp: slicking my hair back in a ponytail, wearing expensive silk clothes, and had a pimp cane made. After I got my hands on a tricked-out Cutlass, I educated myself on the finer points of pimping through documentaries. I was disgusted, but I had to know what happened to her, one way or the other. I started driving down Sunset Boulevard every night, looking for a hooker with Amy's smile. The more I looked, the angrier I got. What the hell had Amy been thinking when she seduced me? Didn't she know how disciplined I had to be with myself? A few times, I was tempted to hire one of the streetwalkers just to calm my hunger, but I knew they couldn't compare to Amy. After five days, I thought I saw her, but her look was all wrong. This woman's hair was a bright, garish red, not the chestnut brown that Amy had. Her heavy eyeliner, mascara and too-pale foundation made her look like a ghost. Her lips were painted the same garish red color as her hair. Still, there was something that drew me to her. I parked my car, and a swarm of women came over. "I only want her." I said, pointing to the redhead. The woman walked over, and leaned her head into my car. It was Amy. There was no mistaking those dark gray-green eyes. Her smile was long gone, though. "I charge extra for women." She said, gruffly, smacking her gum. "Tell me who you work for." Acting Principles Amy's eyes opened wide. "Are you trying to buy me?" "You know I'm not Amy. And I know you know who I am." Her eyes fell. "I'd know you in clown makeup." she sighed. "Are you doing research for an upcoming role?" She stamped her heel. "I ruined you. I know I did." "I'm here to get you out of this." I searched her face. "If that's what you want." "I don't know what else I can do now. Who'll want me for anything?" I touched her hand. "Tell me who's making you do this." Amy shook her head "No. They'll hurt you." I tilted my head. "They'll try." "These people out here are not acting, Gavin! They could kill you!" she hissed. A strange calm came over me, and I was no longer afraid. I was already risking my reputation and professional career being out here. Why would I be afraid of losing my life trying to help the only person in seven years who had given a damn about I really needed? "Tell me who they are. I'm not leaving until you do." "They call themselves 'The Valentino Brothers'. They loan money to their girls and make them earn it back on the streets." "How many of them is there?" "Two. One of them is watching us now." Amy's eyes flicked over to her right, and I saw a dark Cadillac that wasn't moving. "Would he protect you if one of your customers were slapping you around?" "Yes, but-" I changed my demeanor and dialect in half a second. "What the fuck is your problem bitch? Get in the fucking car!" Amy caught on immediately, and started backing away. "Please don't hurt me, daddy!" I grabbed my cane and got out of the car. "Where the fuck are you going?" A tall, muscular man stepped out of the SUV. "Is there a problem?" "Yeah there's a problem." I pointed at Amy with my cane. "That's my bitch." "No chance of that. I've been working her for over a year. If she's yours, why did it take you so long to find her?" "I'm from Vegas." I made a move to strike Amy, but The Valentino Brother stopped me. "You dumb bitch! You thought I wouldn't find you?" "I'm sorry! I've been bad! Don't hurt me!" "Oh, I'm gonna hurt you, baby girl!" I made another move for her, but again I was restrained. "Calm down, you'll ruin the merchandise!" I actually wanted to hurt The Valentino. He was more concerned about Amy's street value than Amy. It was in that moment I realized he was no different than any other director, producer, or agent in Hollywood. They were all pimps. "Let's talk business." I straightened my shirt. "She can take it. You know that." I asked, as a test to see if he was abusing her. The Valentino nodded in agreement, and it took all my will-power to keep myself from hitting him right then and there. I had to control myself until he was in the right position. "Fine. Let's talk business. I want twenty-five percent of everything she's earned working for you." "Are you joking? She took out a loan!" I nodded my head. So Amy's letter had been true about her situation. "Do I have on a clown suit, motherfucker!" I exploded. "You pimped out my ho. I'm entitled to some of that money. And I want what's mine." Valentino became angry. "If you want to buy her back, that's fine, but I don't owe anything to a pimp who can't control her-" I cracked my hard, lacquered pimp cane over his head, knocking him to the ground. I tossed Amy a taser I had acquired for the occasion. "Your turn." Amy cruelly shoved the taser into his stomach, shocking him to her heart's delight. She stopped once he stopped screaming. "Bastard!" she said, kicking him in the stomach for good measure. "Let's get out of here before his brother shows up." She got in my car, and I sped home. "What now?" she asked, as we sat in the car. "Now you're free to go wherever you want." "No I'm not. Once someone finds out what I did-" "Don't think like that. You can't live in fear for the rest of your life." "Why not? Don't you?" I looked away. She was right. Our secrets had the potential to destroy us both. "You're right. I'm exactly like you." Amy shook her head. "You're everything I can't be. You stand for something. You'd never do what I had to." I laughed harshly. "I stand for the illusion of the perfect woman. She doesn't exist. I'm miserable. I'm making a living doing what I love to do, and I'm miserable. So what good is standing for something?" Amy took my hand. "You helped me. You saved me, Gavin. Why do you think I had to pay you back?" "Was that all you were doing? Giving me the ultimate fan service?" Her smile erupted on her face, like a blooming flower. "No." she went to kiss me, but she stopped, ashamed. I kissed her, and I knew she had stayed just hungry for me as I had for her. "God, I missed you. But I was afraid. I still am." "Don't be. Come inside." I kissed her hand, rubbing it against my cheek. I didn't care what she had used her hands for that night. I just knew they were her hands, and I wanted to touch them. "You can't be with me. I'll ruin everything. Your career, your family, your fans. That will all go away." I sighed. She was right. As much as I wanted to be hopeful about coming out, I knew things wouldn't end well. At best, my career would simply fizzle out into obscurity. A lot of people were affected by my work. Meeting Amy proved that. I just couldn't quit acting, cold turkey. But I couldn't give Amy up either. "Come in. You don't have anywhere else to go, do you?" "I don't have anything except what I made tonight." she spontaneously started to cry. I held her as she sobbed. "I'm so ashamed!" "You don't have to be ashamed with me. Won't you come in?" "You really don't care-?" She choked, not able to finish. "I don't care about anything you've been forced to do. I care about you, Amy." I wiped the long trails of mascara dyed tears from her cheeks. "Why else would I go looking for you?" "Because I'm a...I'm a..." I hugged her tight. "No. God no. Your smile is enough." "You don't mean that." "It's like the moon cutting through my darkness. When I was at Tiny's your smile stopped my heart." I couldn't say anything else, slightly embarrassed. I had never been very good at expressing myself, and I was pretty sure what I had said sounded cheesy. "Is it really like that?" "Yes." Tears started to well up in my eyes, but I fought them down. "Am I going to have to beg you to stay?" Amy pulled back to smile bravely. It wasn't the same as her signature smile, but it was good enough for me. "You don't have to beg me to do anything." She got out of the car, and I let us into my condo. "Can I get you anything to eat?" I offered. "I'm not really hungry. Can I just sit down in your living room?" "Sure. Go ahead." I was disappointed she didn't want to talk with me about her plans for the future, but I understood she had a lot of decisions to make that I couldn't decide for her. I did some minor kitchen and bathroom cleaning, and by the time I was done, Amy was asleep on my couch. I touched her lightly on her shoulder. "Hey." Amy rubbed her eyes, smearing some mascara on her cheek. "Sorry. I guess I was more tired than I thought." "It's okay. There are some soap and washcloths in the bathroom if you want to shower, and I've got some pajamas if you want to borrow them." "Thank you." I brought her the pajamas. "You can sleep in of the spare bedrooms you want." I wasn't going to pressure into sleeping with me so soon, not after all she had been through. "I'm going to bed." "Goodnight, then." "Goodnight." I went to my room and got dressed for bed. I soon thought better of it and knocked on the bathroom door. "Amy, if you decide to leave, please don't go without saying goodbye." There was long silence before she answered. "I promise I won't." "Goodnight, again." I climbed into bed, listening to the shower running, then heard Amy pad into the spare bedroom next to mine and settle down. I felt guilty. I should have been happy Amy was safe and off the streets, but I couldn't help wanting her with me. By the time I started dozing, it was four o'clock in the morning. I awoke to feel a pair of soft, peach-sweet lips on mine. "Mm." I moaned. "I kissed you asleep once. I think it's only fair that I kiss you awake." I felt Amy peel back my comforter and mold her naked body to mine. I helped her slide off my pajama bottoms, kissing her softly. Amy hands glided expertly over the buttons of my top, undoing them before I could blink. Once we were skin to skin, I couldn't hold back anymore. She was too hot. My lips found her neck, and I kissed it hungrily. Our bodies started moving together, rocking at first, then smashing into each other. Her electric wetness against my own urged me on. I didn't think I would ever stop. The dark blue light of the coming day started to illuminate my room, and I saw Amy the way she was before. Her long hair, dark and beautiful, her soft/hard skin, and her eyes. There was only one thing missing. "Smile for me Amy." I told her. I needed to see it. Amy smiled, and I wondered if I had ever seen anything so beautiful. She kissed me, sucking on my lower lip. We went on like that until the sun came up, bathing us in glorious golden light. We turned and lay side by side, looking at each other. "If I had to go one more day without being with you, I couldn't stand it." she said before sucking on my forefinger. "Me too." I grinned, touching her cheek. "But you'd lose everything." I sighed. "I probably would." Amy got up. "I'll get us some coffee." "Nice try." I said, remembering how she drugged me before. "We'll get it together." "I wouldn't try to drug you again." "You'd do anything to protect me, even if that included drugging me, right?" She nodded. "Right. But I'm not leaving now." We got our coffee, and sat down at my kitchen table. I barely touched mine. I just kept looking at Amy and thinking about the way her body had moved over mine. Amy tried not to look at me, but there was no holding back her smile. She was remembering too. "There has to be some way we can stay together. I don't want to lose you again." "Even if I got a job away from the entertainment business, someone would find out. And once you become a household name, it will be even harder." "What would happen if Halle Berry came out of the closet?" "She's not gay." "Hypothetically speaking." For the first time since I'd known her, Amy was quiet. "I don't know. It would turn the whole world upside down." "The whole world?" I smiled at that. "Yes. That sounds about right. Do you think everyone would abandon her?" "No. But not everyone would like it." "Hmm." I drank some of my coffee, still thinking. "If you need me to go away until you're famous enough, I can do that." Amy offered. I took her hand. "No. We can make this work. We just have to think. Now what job can you get that will keep you close to me, but won't have people asking too many questions?" Amy smiled slightly. "They'll know as soon as we look at each other." "Come on Amy. We're actors! I know you're good. You fooled me." She leaned over the small table towards me. "I think I had you a little distracted." She gave me a small kiss. "Well, if I'm going to be the magician and pull the wool over everyone's eyes, I'm going to need an assistant." My eyes opened wide . "That's it! Amy, you could be my personal assistant. The pay wouldn't be very good at first-" "I don't care about the money! I'd get to help you! Be there for you when you needed me to be. Oh, Gavvy..." She covered her mouth. "Sorry! I don't know if you like nicknames." I took her hand. "Gavvy and Amy. It has a nice ring to it." I kissed her hand. "We'll have to be careful. We won't be able show any affection in public. I won't even be able to hold your hand. Ma'am." She added with a smirk. "So I'm a ma'am now? I didn't know you were a southern girl." "There's a lot of things you don't know about me. But you'll find out about that later." she started kissing my hand. "Why later?" I asked coyly. She sucked on my forefinger, pausing to grin at me. "I'll show you." And she did.