A Star is Born by Robbie Michaels

at me. He was still on his knees while I lay on my back.
    We were both quiet for a few moments.
    “Thank you,” I said quietly. “I know that that wasn’t an easy thing to say. And I thank you for sticking with it and for saying it.” He started to lean forward toward me, but I held up my hand to stop him.
    “Not so fast,” I said. “I still haven’t forgiven you. Not to mention, what happens now. You two still have to work together. I can’t trust you two together any longer. What happens now?”
    “I’ll quit,” he simply said.
    “You’ll be sued. You’ll lose your case and be fined huge amounts of money. You’ll never work in Hollywood ever again. You’ll be broke. And because you’ll be broke, I’ll be broke as well. And I don’t want to be broke. You need to finish this project. When you’re done you’ll both earn a boatload of money.”
    “We have signed contracts for another film after this. What do I do about that?”
    “I don’t know. I can only think about this one step at a time. First I need to figure out about this mess. I have school. I’m flying home tomorrow because I have to go back to class, do my homework, write my papers, finish my assignments, and get ready for finals. You don’t, but I do. The only way I will be able to trust you both together is if I’m here watching your every move. But I can’t do that. So what do we do? Do I go to the set and tell everyone, cast and crew, what happened, what I walked in on, and ask them to be my eyes and ears? Talk about embarrassing, but I’ll do it if we can’t identify an alternative.”
    Our conversation was interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing. Since I had thrown mine to the street below, I knew that it wasn’t mine. Bill stood and found his phone. He checked the caller ID and answered the call.
    “Hello?”
    “Yes. Hi.” There was silence for a moment. “Yes. I’m sorry,” he said with his head down. More listening. “Yes. Yes. No. Okay. Sure.” Looking at me, he asked for the number of the room we were in. I gave it to him, and he repeated it to the caller on the other end of the conversation, along with the name of the hotel and its address, which he read from the notepad beside the hotel telephone. “Okay. Of course. Yes. Obviously. Yes.” He held the phone out to me and said, “Here.”
    Confused, I took the phone and cautiously said, “Hello?”
    “Mark. Why aren’t you answering your phone?” I heard Moira ask.
    “I threw it to the street from sixteen floors up, so it is most likely in a few dozen pieces.”
    “You’re with Bill. Are you two talking?”
    “Yes. He showed up at my door, after tracking me by checking up on my credit card activity and phone calls. I’ve asked him to leave so that we can talk about this later when I’m less angry, but he is a persistent prick.” Bill smiled as I said that last sentence. She talked and I listened.
    When I disconnected the call, I handed his phone back to him.
    “So she wants to meet with us,” he said.
    “Sounds that way. I guess all the forces of the world have conspired to keep me from getting any sleep tonight.”
    Without waiting for a response, I went into the bathroom and climbed into the shower in an attempt to wake myself up mentally for whatever was coming at me next. When I turned off the shower and pulled back the curtain, I jumped when I found Bill standing there, holding a towel and a stupid smile. “You are so beautiful,” he said.
    “Of course,” I said for lack of anything else to say.
    I dried off and got dressed. As I put my watch on my wrist, I felt like something was missing. Duh! I usually followed that move immediately by putting my cell phone in my pocket. I grabbed my wallet—it didn’t have anything in it, but I grabbed it nonetheless, since it had my ID. If any unexpected expenses arose on my trip home, I would be in trouble.
    Bill had stood quietly, watching me, which was really disconcerting, but I refused to let