Make a Memory ✔

Chapter 5 : "Catch Me If You Can." (2002)

The taxi pulled up in-front of my building and my hands started shaking. Damn this was awkward. Sure Nicky, teach me how to dance. What about 'asking a celebrity up for coffee 101'?! I took a deep breath and just blurted it out. And because I was so nervous it came out as a husky whisper.
“Would like to come up for some coffee?” I hope he didn't think I was trying to seduce him or anything like that. There it was the dimple in the cheek and the lopsided smile.
“Sure.”
He paid for the cab and held the building door open for me, typical gentleman. Not something you would find around every corner of the city. We had to take the stairs, why did the elevator had to be broken today of all days? I turned onto the second floor.
“Lucky you're only on the second floor. I don't think I would have made it past the tenth.” I stopped fumbling with the keys for a second to look at him. He wasn't even out of breath from the two flights we just took.
“Please,” I almost snorted, but remembered who I was with, stopping the impulsion just in time. “You're as fit as a fiddle, and we both know it.” He just shrugged and offered to help with the door.
“No, that's fine. It has a trick.” I turned the key, rattled the knob and pushed with my shoulder all at the same time. The door swung open silently.
“Wow, you're right. That's kind of intense.” I just laughed and switched on the light. He looked seriously out of place in our kitchen/living-room, with our second hand sofas and battered kitchen table. I couldn't quite make out his expression, but I felt the need to defend our little home.
“It's not as bad as it looks. That table wouldn't brake even when Paul and Johnny were jumping on it the other night.” He looked impressed. “And these sofas are super comfortable.” He walked over and sat down on my couch, as I came to talk about it, leaning back and closing his eyes.
“This feels great. I like your flat, it's cosy. Comfortable.” His eyes were still closed and I had the change to absorb all that beauty without him knowing. I grabbed the opportunity with both hands, or in this case, both eyes. Wow, he was majestic in his beauty. Sigh. I could die happy now... His eyes flickered open and I looked away hastily, blushing.
“Do you need some help with the coffee?” he asked.
I turned to the kitchen counter quickly.
“Um, no. I'm good.” I turned on the machine and waited impatiently while it started heating the water. This was a bad idea. What was I supposed to say to the man? The phone rang making me jump two feet in the air. I could hear Taylor's velvet laughter, softly flowing over to where I was.
“Hello?” I asked breathlessly. “Not interrupting, are we darling?” I sighed with relief.
“Nicky! No of course not. What would you be interrupting?” I glanced to where Taylor was, looking at my wall of photos.
“Tsk tsk tsk. How you could disappoint me. Why aren't you on that hideous couch of yours making sweet with Mr. Marx?” I gasped and felt my cheeks grow hot.
“Nicky!” I hissed. Did he want me to die of humiliation?
“Calm down honey! You're like a chicken on a hot plate. Now tell me everything. What did you talk about? What's he like?” I interrupted him before he got completely out of control.
“Nicky, I'll call you in the morning, 'Kay?” Finally he calmed down, if that was possible.
“Oh, hunk-a-dunk is there. Oh my goddess of Fate! You lucky thing! Make mental notes, you, me, Starbucks at ten a.m. I want all the juicy details.” I smiled as I put down the receiver, looking over at Taylor and that smirk on his face told me that he heard part of the conversation and he could guess at the rest. “Nicky's.... well, one of a kind.” I told him with an embarrassed smile.
“On that point, I won't argue with you.” I poured the coffee into two cups, I was glad when I saw that he took sugar and cream with his coffee, just like me. We sat down on the sofa and he turned slightly side ways to look at me.
“Tell me about your friends. They seem like an interesting group.” I smiled.
“Yeah. Where to begin?” I wondered, he put down his cup on the coffee table.
“How about your roommate. I saw the photo's of the day when you moved in together.”
I glanced over at my wall.
“Johnny. He's just the best person ever, like my very own big brother. His dad owns this record and soundtrack company in L.A. Johnny says that's way to much work for him so he sticks around here.” I short-handed it, Johnny didn't want everyone to know the real reason for avoiding his dad's company.
“DJing in clubs and at private parties. He actually has a degree in post-production or something.” Taylor looked really surprised.
“Yeah, he studied at UCLA. Graduated three years ago.” He took a sip of his coffee.
“And your two dancing buddies? They're...?” he left his question hanging, not wanting to ask, but wanting to know.
“Yeah, they're homosexual. I met Nicky on my first day in New York, he gave me a place to stay. That's where I met Paul, and he helped me get the job at the club. Rico is sort of part of Nicky's package so that's how we met. I met Johnny one afternoon in front of the museum after work. Totally Random.” He frowned in confusion.
“The museum?” I nodded and sipped at my coffee.
“Day job.” He gave that lopsided smile.
“A woman of many talents. Dancer, DJ, Tour-guide? and a bar-lady, not that I approve that much of the last one.”
“Then it's a good thing I don't need your approval for anything.” He smiled wryly. “Guess not. So Johnny taught you to DJ? Paul taught you to do bartending. Does that mean you're a natural dancer?” I gave a short laugh.
“Definitely not. Before I came to New York I couldn't even waltz. Rico is a professional dancer and choreographer. He works on Broadway.” It looked like he was memorizing all the info.
“So where does the museum fit in?”
“I have a degree in history and I needed an extra job so...”
“Why did you need two jobs?” I rolled my eyes.
“I have bills to pay, rent, food, you know?”
“But I'm sure the club pays good and you must get tips?” he was frowning like he couldn't understand the necessity of two jobs, he looked convinced that he missed something.
“Yeah, the club pays well, but I'm saving up. Maybe I'll go back to school next year or something.” He nodded, comprehension dawning in his eyes.
“Why does Nicky call you Lee and Johnny call you Lena?” Man! He was rally observant.
“Nicky said that Selena doesn't really suit the whole New York image, but Johnny liked it. They ended up kind of arguing about it, then Rico proposed the idea that Johnny gave me a nickname that only he was allowed to use. Thus, Lena was born.” I laughed.
“So, if your friends call you Lee and your roommate calls you Lena. What shall I call you?” The intensity of his eyes took my breath away.
“Does it matter what you call me?” He frowned at my question.
“What do you mean?” I sighed at his dim-wittedness.
“Because when you walk out that door later, it's not likely that you're coming back.” I couldn't keep the disappointment out of my voice.
“What makes you think I won't come back?” I couldn't even swallow with all the tension in the air. “You're an international superstar, the hottest thing in Hollywood. You get nominated for Golden Globes and you win MTV Movie Awards. Why would you come back to this little flat with its hand-me-down furnishings and the small town girl living here?” I looked into my empty coffee mug.
“Because I find you refreshingly fascinating.” I looked up at startled. He was being serious? A thrill ran down my spine.... Robert Taylor Marx thought I was refreshingly fascinating!
“Good enough reason for you?” he asked. I nodded, a smile reaching from ear to ear, or that's what it felt like.
“Okay, my turn to ask questions. How do you do it?” He smiled at me.
“It's an automatic reflex for every human being to breathe.” I laughed and put my mug down on the table next to his. I liked the way our mugs looked next to each other. It made everything seem more realistic, less dreamlike.
“No. I mean, being a worldwide superstar, winning awards. When you sneeze, it's on the front page of some newspaper or magazine. How do you it?” He sat back, relaxing.
“You take the perks along with the rest. Being famous can be a burden and, well, one hell of a party.” I liked how didn't say he was rich, just mentioning the fame. “I wouldn't be able to do it. Smile the whole time, dress perfectly and all just to walk out your front door to fetch something in your car?” He laughed at
my statement.
“Seriously Taylor. What about all the stuff they write about you? The scandals? Booze, girls, drugs?” He laughed again.
“It's really mostly stories. They go buy pictures and things they heard. Most of the times it not true, and they'll print the classic sentence of 'rumours have been going around'. That makes them immune to being sued. I just laugh at all the stuff they come up with 'cause I know what's true and what's 'rumours'.” I kind of laughed with him. I remembered the day I saw him at the TRL studios when he laughed at the question about some super-model. But rumours had to start at some point of truth, didn't they?
“What are you thinking?” he asked as he saw my preoccupation.
“No, I can't tell you.” I laughed nervously.
“Why not? Come on. I promise I won't laugh.” I looked down at my hands.
“It's embarrassing. Just don't get mad 'Kay?” He nodded solemnly.
“I was just thinking, well, my mom always said, where there's smoke a fire was sure to be at the source. And, I mean, if there's a rumour...” I trailed off and kept my eyes on my hands. “There's bound to be an event to have led to the rumour.” He finished the sentence and pursed his lips at the thought.
“I can't blame you for thinking that. They can be very convincing when they wanted to be. The Tabloids.” He said and I sighed again before looking up at him.
“I wouldn't be able to do it. Live the way you do. It's got to be really difficult, especially relationships.”
He frowned. “I don't understand.” I sat upright, this one I've always wanted to say to someone like him. I've even practiced it in the mirror.
“You're an actor. You make a living of lying. How would your partner know when you're acting and when you're just you. When you're filming a romantic scene, how would she know whether or not you're acting while making out with your co-star?”
He shrugged. “She'll just have to trust me.”
One of my eyebrows shot up sceptically. “Yeah? Well you're getting paid to cheat on your girlfriend.” It had to be terrible.
He laughed. “That's ridiculous. It's part of the job.”
I threw up my hands, maybe I was wrong, but there isn't enough money in the world that would make me kiss someone else when I had a boyfriend.
“Call a spade a spade and a kiss a kiss. I don't care what the situation is. I don't think I'll ever date someone like that because I wouldn't want the whole world to see my boyfriend kissing someone else over and over and over again.” He shook his head, a smile still lingering on his lips.
“I don't know about other actors and actresses, but if I was in a serious relationship, I wouldn't act in front my partner at all. I'll gain her trust and leave her in no doubt about who my heart belongs to. She'll never have a reason to wonder about co-stars and kissing scenes, because I'll have her right there on location, if she wanted to be there of course, to show her that it was just part of the job and that it meant nothing.”  I thought his words over, mauling them in my head. He looked so serious, his face serene and his eyes blazing with the promise behind his words. I believed him. Every single word. If he made a promise to someone he wasn't likely to break that promise. After that hour of seriousness, our conversation toned down to things that are more general. Music, books, hobbies, favourite people and less favourite people. We didn't once talk about anything personal again, refraining from our life's history and family. I didn't realize that I fell asleep until I heard the apartment door close. I was really comfortable on the sofa so I just turned around and tried to go back to sleep. I heard another door open and peeked through one eye. Great. Johnny was home, not his usual noisy self. Softly closing his bedroom door behind him. I snuggled deeper into the sofa, only to be surprised when it snuggled back. I turned with a gasp to find Taylor sleeping next to me. His one arm was draped across my ribcage, his hand resting lightly on my stomach. I was lying with my head on his other arm. I looked at my watch and quickly sat up. It was half past eight! I am going to be so late for coffee with Nicky, and besides being late. I was going to be dead in two hours time if I didn't hurry the hell up. Taylor stirred next to me and slowly opened his eyes. It was dazzling emerald in the morning light.
“Morning.” For no particular reason, I was whispering.
“A very good morning.” He whispered back. We smiled at each other.
“I have to go get ready. I'm meeting Nicky at ten, but have some coffee and there's bound to be something in the fridge to eat. I don't know if you'd like some cereal, but it's on top of the cupboard.” I quickly stood up. He stretched and I tried to look away and failed miserably. He had removed his pinstriped shirt from last night, it was a designer shirt, obviously. But now he was only wearing a plain grey T-shirt and his jeans. He had beautiful arms, not over muscular but.... damn! They reminded me a tennis players arms. Like Rafael Nadal's arms. Grrrrr.....
“I'll be fine. You go ahead and do all your girly stuff.” I had a quick shower, washing my hair. After I blow dried it, kind of, leaving it all messed up and untidy, I pulled on my grey bootleg jeans, a yellow tank top with the word "What?!" splashed in black letters over my breasts. I pulled on my All stars, added my black leather jacket and I was ready to go.
“Impressive.” He said as I entered the living area again, only twenty minutes after I left it. He was eating cereal, leaning against the kitchen counter. Johnny was sitting at the table, still in last nights clothing, having a cup of coffee. They both seemed really relaxed.
“Want some coffee Lena?” I took the cup gratefully from Johnny and sat on the counter top next to him.
“So, how was the rest of your night?” He laughed, pulled back his shirt from his chest a bit and showed me a purple bite mark.
“Very satisfactory. Yours?” He looked from me to Taylor with a meaningful glint in his eyes, making me blush.
“It was fine thanks. What's the time?” I looked at me wrist but my watch was still in my room.
It's almost ten past nine. “Crap!” I jumped of the counter and rushed to my room to grab my purse and my watch. What am I going to do with Taylor? Ask him along for coffee with Nicky? No way, it'll be too embarrassing. Do I hug him goodbye? Shake hands? Kiss?! My breathing became almost ragged and my heart started pounding loudly in my ears. I am gonna freak out if I don't get this over and done with. I took a few steady breaths and walked out of room.
“See you later Johnny.” He was already on his way back to his room, yawning and stretching lazily.
“Sure thing Lena.” I picked up my keys and looked at Taylor.
“Ready to go?” He nodded. I noticed that he was wearing a different T-shirt. “Nice shirt.” He smiled. “It's Johnny's. I had a shower myself and he was kind enough to lend me a clean shirt.” He gave that stunning lopsided smile again, but his eyes were sparkling with something I couldn't quite make out. We both stopped on the pavement out front.
“Now I have to come back, to return the shirt.” He gave me a dazzling smile and it felt like the sun shining down at me in all its glory.
“You're really going to come back?” I asked hesitantly. He was an actor after all - maybe he was just trying to make me feel better. That would suck. Seriously.
“I promise I'll come back. I just can't be certain when.” He looked down at me earnestly. I just couldn't help myself, I believed that he would come back. I reached to the tips of my toes, threw my arms around his neck and held on to him tightly, burying my head against his shoulder. His arms wrapped around me and held there for a long blissful minute.
“I really have to go now.” I whispered as I drew my arms back until my hands where resting on his chest. His one arm stayed securely around my waist, his other hand reaching up to put a stray hair strand behind my ear. His hand lingered there, slowly making it's way down, resting at the hollow of my neck, where my heart was going crazy. He looked deep into my eyes for a second, then waved his arm for a taxi, not braking eye contact. I was starting to feel light-headed. He walked me over to the taxi, his arms still at my waist, opened the door and wait until I slid in. He closed the door and brushed my cheek with the tip of his fingers. It felt like butterflies in the early summer. I sighed and smiled at him.
“Catch you later.” He smiled at my words, remembering last night in the club.
“Bye.” He mouthed and stepped away from the car, back onto the pavement. I turned around on my seat to watch him until the car went around the corner onto 11th Avenue. He stood there, his hands thrust deep into his jean pockets, watching me just as I watched him. I sat back and sighed. I think that I had just developed a full blown, semi-obsessive crush...

Crap!

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