I feel like my very own heart is bleeding—or is not it? I can’t be late for this interview with Keyshawn. No way. This is something big and more important than I have ever done before. Of course! She is not the highest, top-most celebrity that I have ever interviewed. Not certainly! Whoops! I have to make my leave right now—right away, without any slight or tiny tad bit sort of delay. Yep-yuppy!
It is dark and dreary-like outside here. The sky is all this limitless and boundless. I can feel the cold bite and chew into my flesh as I walk in the early night that is so packed and thronged with so many people huddling and bustling about. I feel kind of bored and very much ill at ease. Thus I fetch my iPod music player, then carefully plug in my earphones, and start playing on some slow but romantic track of music. In this life, can we ever live happily and blissfully without romance? Of course! Easily and painlessly still as a matter of fact. No wonder I have to enjoy being single for this little bit while before I start to belong and be hold in the tender and caring and affectionate arms of someone else. Yuwl!
I am supposed to walk and move faster than I already now am advancing. I hardly and barely don’t know why I am going so slowly and unhurriedly. I guess that I am tired. I like my things done fast and brilliantly smart. Before now, I was a tediously slow and laggard person whom someone could hardly yell and snap at—pointing out at how much of a tortoise and less more of a leopard I actually was in getting things done. Oh my! These old, boring, but vigorously exciting memories of mine? I love and cherish them!
It is more dark and dreary still on this narrow street and alley. I barely even notice it. Up till I look behind and think that I saw a cat meow and then rush down the street after me. I stop and peer at it more closely with due attention this time. And I discover that it is not any cat after all. But instead three darkly-seeming men with weird and scary-like looking hats on their heads and some things grasped and clutched in their hands. Shit! They are running and chasing after me. I have to speed my way quickly. I barely don’t know what it is that they wielding in their hands and it might be knives or axes or anything that American Chainsaw crappy scary stuff. These things have happened before, and they can easily happen to me as well. Run, Tori, run—my conscious and instincts guide and steer me. I make haste here and straight away.
I am wearing high heels today. I didn’t want to put them on. Courtney poked fun at me back at our apartment that I looked funny and silly in a knee-high blue skirt matched with a turquoise colored-like shirt that has lovely purple and green stripes marked and emblazoned all over it. I had first worn flat shoes with this. “Put on those clack-y, feisty, and taddy bit sort of Teddy Bear looking highs of yours, girl,” she had snorted out at me while giggling and sniggering out to herself. I agreed with her, and I did like she told and instructed me to.
I try my best to move as fast and charily as I can. I pass my way into the following street, and it is here that I gather and hastily pick up my speed all the more high and nippy. Yes. I must toil and endeavor my best until I leave those strange and frightening-looking men behind me. I quickly and instantaneously sneak my way into another quiet and desolate street. At least it is all quiet and calm here. It sure and definitely is. Once I am here—just so I don’t attract the attention and awareness of those gruesome men following me behind, I quicken and step up my pace, gracefully mild and chaste-fully considerate on the other hand. What a relief this definitely must be for me!
Just as I am about to head off into another street; a man, large and muscular-like looking, looms up straight into my view suddenly and abruptly to hit and crash me. I have not seen him or even suspected his presence and being here. What is he looking here at this early hour of the evening? I am thinking this when Mirth, my bothersome and snappy-doggy-sort-of spy-enjoying conscious steps in much to my discomfort and annoyance: What are you also looking for here yourself, Tori, at such an early awful hour of the evening? I don’t want to answer her back—or else mine would be angry and disrespectful or even insulting words. I simply tell her: Shut up, you dirty Mirth! If you don’t have anything to do, you better seal yourself up in that troubled brain of mine and seek something else better and significant to do.
Honestly speaking, I am shocked. This man here—he is terribly and wonderfully handsome. He reminds me of Charles. Charles was one of the most wonderful and dazzling ever beautiful creations that I have ever met. And so is this man. Wait a minute…..could he be his unquestionable and handsomely brother? I can’t tell that for now.
I shrink away from the man. He is holding a small beautiful dog in his hand—a nicely growing up puppy I should rather say clear-cut—and the moment he notices me flinch and recoil away from him, he sets it down carefully and steadily slow so that he walk over to me with his hands thrown high and soaring up into the air. Is this a total surrender from him or what?
“Sorry to frighten you, miss. I want you to know that I am a very trusted man and there is no hell way on earth I could be capable of injuring and hurting you.”
All American psychos overuse that to lure in their victims. How so true are his words? I look and examine him again. Yes. He is neatly and impeccably dressed. In a neat and exquisite black suit even. Is he going for some function? With whom precisely? His girlfriend, of course, you silly girl! That must be Mirth. She better behave herself for he own good and benefit. Seriously!
“Who are you?” I ask him quietly and with an icky-echoing tone. I gulp down my throat straight just after this. Has he made out already how nervous and fearful I am?
“I am Rhys Ty Jonas. I want you to know that you can always trust and have faith and confidence in me. I mean no any sort of harm to you—honestly speaking.”
“I am Tori Wolf. I am just coming from work now, and I am going to take my leave straight off if you don’t mind that.”
“Wait…wait…..please,” he begs and entreats me. I stop and turn around to him. At this point in time, a chilly and icing-up breeze of wind gusts past me to hurl and toss away my long, cutely brown hair away from my face. Chestnut brown hair that is! Just so I am concise and spot-on with what I am saying and describing here. “Where are you going please? I would like to take you there personally.”
“Don’t bother. It isn’t all that far even. I will be there in like less than an hour,” I say this with an intensely glad and extremely happy smile. Hmmnnnn! That was quite a little bit kind and polite of him. Or should I say very highly generous and angel-hearted? Whatever term it is that you like any better—the man is agreeably kind and compassionate to me.
“These streets have proved out to be dangerous time and again. I know why you were taking flight when I ran into you and you still have that piss-scared and terribly-awed look on your face.”
He must be right. These streets are known to be part of the dreaded Bailey-Way Boulevard. They might be perilous and ticklish like that nearby notorious place itself. I might never know. Just two days ago, a teen aged somewhere between 13 and 15 had his expensive phone and thirty dollars cash snagged and grabbed away from him by violence and menacing threats. Following this, the gone-wild-and-satanic gang that thronged and grouped about him stabbed and jabbed him with a sharply knife to his excruciating death. He was discovered and found dead, with blood having depleted and emptied up from his entire body just by bleeding and oozing out helplessly. Shit! Would I like anything of this awful nature to also happen to me? Hell way no! I wonder if even the poor kid wished himself anything that dangerous and life-threatening. Of course, he possibly and truthfully did not.
“Fine,” I tell the handsomely and good-looking man before my on-alert eyes. “I will let you take me where I am going.” I wonder. Isn’t he even afraid of handing over a lift in his vehicle to total strangers that he does not know? Mirth is quick to snap and bark at me for contemplating this. Better you be appreciative and very much thankful of what the good Samaritan here is doing to you, you thoughtless ingrate. Yeah—yeah! I have heard enough already, Mirth-y! Thank you for that sweet-most notification for your very own piece of information.
Once settled and entrenched down inside the car, Rhys has me hold and catch his dog for him. I love dogs and animals, but not then all of them. Ever since I was five or six, I played and stayed with a lot of them such that my bond and attachment to them burgeoned so great and fiercely to describe and relate here. It still now is a tiny mite bit. Only that for the moment, I do not stay and dally about with a handful of pets and animals. Maybe when I am finally in my own house and dwelling, I will think twice about raising such up. Courtney? She detests and abhors the raising of any form of pets in our own apartment. And can you imagine what her horror-most class and variety of household pets are—stinking and freaking awful cockroaches. Whenever she is in the kitchen or toilet, and I hear her scream out so loud and alarming like she has actually been paid to do it for some nameless range of horror flick, say ‘Scream With All Your Might and Get 10 Bucks For It’, I easily and without much trouble or thinking know and even get convinced that she has in all reality and truth seen a freaking horrible and grisly-like cockroach. They are everywhere, I guess. Even in the White House? I don’t expect so.
“So where is it that you work, Tori, huh?”
“The Young’s! You have ever heard about us?”
“Of course! I stay and reside here in Las Vegas. I am a Software Developer with Qitera.”
“Really? I could not have imagined and thought that all up on my own.”
“I know The Young’s. You are into advertising and marketing there, I presume.”
“You presume or you are very confidently and much certain and positive about it? I mean that is what we are really and obviously into.”
“Okay. So what do you do there at The Young’s?”
“I am just an ordinary receptionist.”
“Ordinary?” He laughs out load at that. Of course! Do you expect anyone to admire and envy your very small job title there at that shitty damn structure called a firm? People kill and bewitch each other for Company Managerial chairs and thrones in big, grand mammoth skyscrapers and here you are, Tori, comfortable and happy about being a Z-paid receptionist? Grow up, silly girl. Then he adds, “You are a professional receptionist, Tori, and not just any ordinary place worker there.”
“If you think so,” it is all I have to let out to him. Seriously!
“And how do the guys there treat you?” He looks at me as he says this and then quickly glances away from me the instant I scowl and make an astonished face at him. What was that supposed to mean really? I am no V.I.P please……and I get no any special treatment for simply being myself. I enjoy doing my work for the sole love of it and then go back straight home and relax and play some celebrity interview tapes that I have recorded and taped on in a particular day. That is just my life. Boring, then exciting, then lonesome, then full of people and activity, then…….then……….then……………………………………
“Like a human being fellow worker is supposed to be treated and handled. Some people can be really mean and nasty. But they are not worth being on my V.I.P long list either.”
“You mean no guy has ever proposed to you there at Young’s?”
Is that the way you talk to a stranger, Rhys? I want to shout and yowl out mad at him like I have gone bananas, but then Mirth is quick to act and restrain me from doing so. Damn her! Rhys here better be taught how to talk to a lady……I mean how to talk to a stranger lady that he doesn’t even freaking hell know. If it were not for Mirth being present, I would have exploded and detonated badly fuming like a freaky scary tornado bomb.
“Absolutely; does that surprise you in any way?”
“No. But you are too beautiful to be single and left all on your own just like that. It is like all the men have no eyes to see and sight you. Well, if they don’t, you probably have me then.” The way he is talking all this to me, he is making it seem like he is merely being playful and jocular with me. I can’t tell and decide for sure. Is he really being playful, or is he not being this? I don’t know…….I don’t even wish to know………Right now what probably matters most of all things is that I get my way to Sugar Spray Inn and chat and have a word or two with Keyshawn Gibson. I have not more than an hour to spend and relax with her. After that, she will head off to her hotel and then fly off back to Los Angeles where she stays with her boyfriend and three cats. They must be a perfect and very magnificently wonderful family, I am guessing to myself—are they not? They sure and definitely are!
Rhys and I don’t talk much either. We just fool around with our relationship status before he drops me off at Badin Way. The highway isn’t all that busy and bustling up. There are a few cars speeding here and there, this direction and that opposite other. The traffic lights are all sparkling and blazing up blindingly and dazzlingly. The scene and spectacle itself is just wonderful and heaven-like to look and stare at.
I learn that Rhys is single in the long run. I don’t know how true that is. If I were staying that long enough in his presence, I would have checked and verified it myself. Not so just I can become his date and truest love. I just want to know how far he would go on lying if I were with him and for what exact purposes and motives exactly. Duh! Men and their sweetie pie form of white lies! Even women and olden people lie too—are you not aware, Tori? It is Mirth, you are right. Always listening and paying attention to whatever thing it is that I am doing.
Before I drop out of his car, Rhys gives me this long and absorbed-like look that I can’t easily explain and tell up. It is just there. Exquisite, friendly, and desirous and deliriously-achy too on the other hand. I don’t know what it is exactly……but I feel like there is more truth and aim to his words and moves. I don’t really care. A celebrity is waiting somewhere, or is not she, huh? Keyshawn Gibson.
The way she seats on her chair in the packed and busy inn. It is almost like she is a princess of beauty and loveliness itself. No. She isn’t that proud or pompous type. She is just amazingly and achingly beautiful. Ash! I wish I looked just like her. Huh—huh! I am not any serious with all of this stuff, guys. I love who I am and what I am, and I wouldn’t change it for anything else in this world. What I mean to symbolize is that each person is lovely and magnificent in a way of their own that can relate well to the others, or badly worse still. That is just life. It is not all about similarity and distinctness alone. But also variance and indistinctness on the other face of the wide, broad mirror.
I sit down before her and stretch out my hand to shake hers. I have sent her my picture and bio before. I trust that she remembers and knows me. Her hand is slightly warm but snugly comfortable to touch and stroke about. Eish! Her palms are enjoyably soft and smooth just like mine, meaning that we rarely do that very hard laborious but enjoyable grade of work. Work in any form is enjoyable—and I love, love, love it.
“What drink would you like to take?” Keyshawn asks me.
I don’t know which one to choose. There are so many wonderful and beautiful bottles to choose here. From the quietly and ever fizzing Glen Ellen type to the bubbly, sweetly-mantic Vendange, and also the darkly and roseate-like La Terre, to the loved and adored Stone Cellars and Ecco Domani and Chateau Ste. Michelle—I don’t one which particular brand it is that I should opt for here. “I will take Blackstone,” I finally and at long last mouth out to Key. She smiles kindly and gestures me to proceed ahead and serve myself. Even the small cup-cake scones served with chocolate and fried eggs are delicious and luscious to taste and gobble. Hmmnnnnnnn! I am not going to miss Courtney Schroeder’s talkative kitchen tonight. Not in any way thinkable.
“So tell me, Keyshawn, how did you get started here in Hollywood? You have grown this big and popular. Was working in the movies something that you have long wanted to do all your life? Or it was life and its unpredictable chain and series of events that got you tossed and started in this whole movie deal thing?”
“It is quite funny and unbelievable to look back and see how long I have come in all of this thing. As you are aware of, I am only 23. And I began acting in small TV serials and films as way back as 10 years far past. It was something I did because my mom and family thought that I had great acting talent. It turned out truthfully so. And following my first three years of specializing only in TV, I switched on to movies. That was not in fact how I planned it out to be. The TV company I acted for shut down and I had to look for other acting work somewhere. By this point in time, I was addicted and drugged on into acting. I didn’t want spending a week not being captured and filmed on camera. If there is anything that I am heavily addicted to in this wide whole world of ours, it is the dearest camera itself.”
“Fine then! I will fetch out mine so that I can relieve and loosen up your obsession and mania,” I am saying this merely as a way of joking and we both snigger and laugh out madly at it.
“The Paparazzi don’t drag bags and bunches of cameras with them for movie filming, Tori. They only use them to do the snap-dap, snap-dip, and snap-captcha exclusive sort of thing. You should get a filming license. Only then will I authorize you to film me for this interview.”
We laugh again and I add this time around, “Well heard and understood, Keyshawn. So how did you get to snub up this latest movie role of yours?”
“It was tough competition honestly speaking. There were about 13 well-known actresses contending for this Suey Eastwood role, and I kept on thinking each time, ‘I am going to miss it……I am going to lose it.’ I was totally shocked and horrified when the producer phoned me in person to tell me that I had been picked up to play nasty Miss Eastwood. At the ‘Clawed’ auditioning, there were about a hundred and thirty unknown aspiring actresses who all wanted to land this big role too, and a handful of them eventually snubbed roles in the movie as third and fourth class characters.”
“What inspired you to especially go for this movie?”
She giggles out happily and excitedly, “I have never done an action movie blended with horror and science-fiction pieces before, and I was like, this is my perfect and most rightful opportunity to go for this. It turned out I had been stirred by that mentality right and appropriately.”
“What else are you filming besides this?”
“Lilith: Bride of the Devil. In this one, I play Lilith, the demon queen of the Succubus. This is a horror movie releasing next month by Farrell Pictures. I have only just finished filming it along with ‘Goose Camp’ a cartoon movie done for some Baltimore-based television station. They are ‘Kids’ Fun’ by name and title.”
“How has been enormously famous in the last six years changed your whole life and acting career?”
“To be honest with you, I was not really that popular until about four years ago with the release of ‘Queen on The King’s Throne.’ But my life hasn’t changed that much frankly. Maybe only that I have not much time to hang out with my friends and family, and I don’t get to kiss my boyfriend out in the public anymore. He only goes out with me on private dates and the like. He is allergic to fame and popularity, especially all those negatives things that can come from sleepless haters. I am all used to it now and I perfectly know how to handle it very well indeed.”
“Last month, there was a rumor that you are secretly lesbian and that you had behind shut doors married fellow Lilith co-star, Jeanie Campbell. Well, those spreading the rumor mentioned that your being with your two-year boyfriend, Adrian, was to cover and conceal things up about your gay orientation. How did that affect you and your reputation and even your work much more importantly?”
“I was shocked and terrified at first to learn that it was what people were talking and preaching about. I was like, ‘That is what everyone is thinking of me? Fine! I will take no notice of it and concentrate on tackling a few couple projects that I presently have at hand.’ You know what? Those rumors are now dying all out of nowhere. I don’t have to prove how true or false everything is that God-knows-exactly-wh-ch-exact-person brought and hatched up to do me and my influence bitter harm. I just leave rumors and without fail they sort themselves out with a brand new one. I have fans to cheer up and not let down, or have not I?”
“What was the best ever movie role in all your big screen career?”
“Playing a young beautiful Queen Elizabeth in the crisis-time 1900s in ‘Queen on The King’s Throne.’ I love Queen Elizabeth and I really and deeply valued playing her. It was like the most beautiful thing ever.”
“Are you expecting?” I question her whilst laughing and giggling out.
She first looks at me angrily and rudely first and then suddenly softens her expression to laugh and snigger out as well. “That is how rumors begin, Tori. I hope that you are not bent and intent on starting another newest one about me being pregnant. For goodness’ sake, I am not expecting, Madame Wolf.”
“I know……I know………this was merely a joke from me, for this night especially.”
“Where do you see yourself five years from now if God gives you that blessing and privilege to live that long enough? Don’t get me wrong here. It is not like I am saying that you are not meant to last that long on Earth either. We all know that we live by the will and power of God, right?”
“That’s very true, Tori.” At least she is not that tad bit provoked or angered by any of this statement. “In five years if I were to live more by God’s grace and wish, I will probably be an actress-turned-mother of two or three who has for the time settled down to raise and look after her kids with her loving and adoring boyfriend. I hope we would have tied the knot by then. But I shall still be returning and appearing on the big silver screen. Only time is sacred and the accurate most seer to tell all that.”
“Are there any surefire signs that your man, Adrian Spencer, is as of late willing and very much eager to tie the knot with you? This is my final question for you.”
“I should give him a little bit more of time for the moment, I think. My poor buddy is kind of stuck and spent up trying to complete his Art and Humanities course at Wotton University back there in our beloved Los Angeles city. Maybe after he has completed school we are going to marry and settle down. For the moment, he is occupied in entertaining his books and lecturers. For the nonce, I am playing and having great fun with my audience and the entirety of Tinsel-town at large.”
Whew! This is a great relief and pleasure on my part. Following our meal and interview, I go on to take ten or eleven photos of Keyshawn here at the Sugar Spray Inn. She is wearing blue jeans, a pink top, a long furry white jacket that everyone seems to be admiring and ogling at. On her feet are black and sturdy-looking-like ankle-high boots. Her light blond hair, today dyed a lovely and precious black for Divinity-knows-what specific purpose, is curled and frizzled and twisted up nicely. Celebrities and their glamour!
As I step my way out of Sugar Spray Inn, I notice Rhys hovering outside there on his car as he waits and keeps looking out for me. Wait a second, Tori! Who told you that he is waiting for you here? He is probably in a patient wait for his most ever beautiful girlfriend. And not some cheeky, naughty, and Paparazzi sliced-time worker like you! Yah! Mirth is always good at cheering and annoying me at the same time—duh!
I wave at him kindly and then proceed to walk my way down the street. It will probably take me twenty minutes to reach the Four Pizzas Junction and then hire a cab there to take me to my apartment. While walking and strolling down the street quietly, I hear a vehicle humming and buzzing loud after me. I swerve around quickly just in time for the darkly window to wind down and Rhys himself to peek direct at me from the other farthest-off seat, from where he directs and bids me, “Get in quickly, will you?”
I do like he tells me to. It is enjoyable and comfortable inside here. I bet that it is high time I get a car of my own and stop bothering Courtney about how I have to go to some place all in the flattery and deceit of her own lavish car made to look in the eyes of the scrutinizing public like it is a very expensive automobile of my own ownership and possession. When I glance at Rhys, he at length last tells me:
“You haven’t let me know that you work for the Paparazzi?”
Oh. So he was spying and keeping a watchful eye on me right back there in the Sugar Spray Inn. I should have known. Alternatively, I tell him, “This is something that I do part-time and not on a full time basis, mind you. Are you really surprised and bothered by it?”
“I was stunned to see you with that celebrity—Keyshawn Gibson.”
The windows all over Spray Sugar Inn are all made of clear and apparent glass. It is so obvious that Rhys had been monitoring my activity with Keyshawn all along. Hmmnnnnnn……who could have thoughtlessly foresaw or forethought that happen? Not I myself in any way thinkable!
“What time do you usually get home? I mean it is late already, and I will be responsible for it if you arrive home late. Do you want to get in trouble with your—”
“My what? My wife, you want to say?”
I am shocked, dead-faced even. “No. That is not what I was going to say to you.”
“Then what word did you mean to place just there?”
“The poor dog! It hasn’t eaten anything, and you have kept it locked and shut up in this automobile of yours for so many hours. I only feel sorry and pity for it. That is only what I wanted to say, and nothing about your whatever-her-name-is special wife.”
He looks guilty and conscious-punched. I am not to blame for that, or am I? I AM NOT, TORI! That must be Mirth without denial. “I will take care of little Bruce, don’t worry about him, Tori. He is such a nice and loving dog of mine. Only that he has gone missing and strayed for the last few days and I wasn’t willing to chill out and take things easy without ever finding him. He means the entire world to me. If he were a woman, he would be the only wife that I would have in my possession.”
How’s that ever possible? I am wondering to myself……quietly and soundlessly still indeed.
“He is the only family you have—is that what you are trying to mean?”
“Kind of. Animal family that is, and not my human one.” We have already arrived at my place. Rhys stops the car and I look at him quietly to tell him finally, “Thank you for everything that you have done for me. I hope that you take the good most and best most ever care of your little Bruce. He deserves all things good and so much more to this.”
“You are welcome, Tori Wolf.” Rhys says with a very big and truly handsomely and hypnotizing smile.
“Good bye, Rhys. Journey well.” I am out in the cold again. I hurry my way straight into the house and find Courtney already sleeping in her bed. I wish I could give her just a good night kiss, but then I will have to spare and reserve it for tomorrow. I love her. Sweet dreams, Schroeder! It is also my turn to fall asleep as well, right? Definitely so! I don’t know what tomorrow will bring……..I wonder…….I only wonder what will come off next after all this………………….