Author's notes: This story was not supposed to be about a moviestar. The celebrity could had been any pretty, successful woman. But a friend of mine asked me for a piece of fan-fiction involving this particular beauty. And I think it turned out pretty well. This is one for you who enjoy a bit more background to your reading than just "we met, we did it." So be patient, I think it'll be worth it. Oh, and don't try to find the town or the movie being shot. It's purely fictional. Enjoy! /Icingsugar
-------------
"Hey, Jimbo!" i shouted. That, if anything, ought to get her attention.
And it did. She stopped dead in her tracks. Slowly she turned around, her eyes searching the crowd on the street. Her beautiful, big, dark eyes rapidly scanning the hundred-or-so fans that had gathered to get a glimpse of one of the handful of Tinseltown stars that had blessed our little town with their presence.
Hollywood, or rather, a New Line Cinema crew had landed in town a few days ago for a movieshoot. Apparently, the movie was some sort of high-profile Sci-Fi drama in the same category as Contact, or Close Encounters. The main part of the story was supposed to take place in a quiet, nondescript, typical Small Town. Well, they couldn't have picked a better place. That was after all why I moved there in the first place.
I hadn't cared that much about the whole freakshow though until I read about the cast lineup in the local gazette. It was an all-star team of top of the line silver screen talent, with names like Ed Harris, Claire Danes, Elijah Wood and Christian Bale in the most prominent roles. Further down the castlist there were still lots of interesting names. I idly browsed the namedropping article. When I saw her name, I almost ripped the newspaper in two.
Hate is a dangerous word, and one should use it carefully. But I hated her. I had reason to.
First I had planned on locking myself up in my apartment and ignore it all. Stick my head in the sand and wish her away. But when I saw her slender, toned body and her radiant face come walking down my street, escorted by two buff bodyguards, smiling, laughing and signing autographs left and right, I knew I had to do something. She was so beautiful, so successful, so happy. All those things that she didn't deserve to be. I wanted to take her down, to get back her some way. But first, I had to get her to notice me.
"Up here, Jimbo!" I called out from my second floor window. And then she looked at me, and spoke to me, for the first time in over seven years.
"Matt? Matt, is that you?"
"Sure is!"
"How...what are you doing here?" she asked, baffled.
"I live here! What's your excuse? Hey, don't go anywhere, I'm coming down."
I moved away from the window and hurried down the stairs. Right before I went out into the street, I had to calm myself down and take a few deep breaths. There was no turning back now. The ball was rolling and there was no way for me to stop it.
"You can do this, Matthew. Just play it cool. Be nice. This is your chance." i thought to myself. Chance to do what? I didn't know yet, the only thing I was sure of was that if I didn't go out there and say hello I'd probably never get a chance like this again. Somehow, I'd make her pay. Bracing myself, I entered the street.
And there she stood, the all-American girl next door, the jerk-off fantasy of countless teenage boys, the moviestar sensation that is Jennifer Love Hewitt. Of course, she wasn't all that to me. I knew her before the hype exploded, when she was just another unnoticed teen actress with a handful of so-so appearances on her resume. And from even further back, when she was just that cute girl down the block. For a second I dreamed myself back to those days of childhood games and adolescent crushes, before it all went wrong.
But whatever I felt there was no denying the striking effect she had on everything around her. She made everything else fade away. I had to admit it, Jennifer was a wet dream walking. Her straight hair was in a shorter style than I had seen on her in magazines and movies recently, but it still framed her face perfectly, ending just above the shoulders. It was a hot summer day, and she wore a classic sleeveless thin pale blue dress with minimal shoulder straps and a deep cleavage. So deep in fact that you could see the top of the matching blue laced bra she wore underneath it. Small gusts of wind tugged the dress back and forth, making the thin fabric cling either to her back and her buttocks, or to her breasts, belly and crotch. The dress ended about halfway up her thighs, showing enough of that pair of downright flawless legs of hers to arouse any man alive. Any man except me. She may be sexy, but I hated her.
Anyway, it was time to act.
"Hi, Jen."
"Matt...wow. Matthew...how long has it been? Six years?" she said as her eyes met mine.
"Seven years, almost on the day. You ran away and broke my heart, remember?" I replied..
She flinched, and her smile was instantly wiped away. I seemed to had hit a nerve there. Could this coldblooded...bitch actually have a conscience?
"Oh, yeah. That." she mumbled.
I quickly gave her a big grin to assure her that I was just joking. "Hey lighten up, Love. That's way past, ok? I'm not holding any grudges."
As if.
She beamed back at me and reached out to touch my arm. I had to clench my teeth to stop myself from backing away. Her touch felt like heaven, at he same time it burned like acid and hellfire. I still longed after her. Her tender touch, her warm breath, her soft, sweet lips. But the hate was stronger. Somehow, I managed to pull myself together enough to keep the cool, smiling mask on.
"So," I said as gaily as I could manage. "welcome to my street. It's good to see you again."
"Matthew Davies. God, it really is you. Hey, any busy right now? I'm on my way back to the hotel. If you want to, we could have a coffee, or maybe a drink, and yap about the good old days. I wanna know what you've been up to. Whaddaya think?"
"Sounds fine to me. Lead the way, Jimbo."
"Don't call me that."
"Sorry, Jimbo."
"Stop it!," she laughed.
"Ok, Jimbo."
She stuck out her tongue at me, and turned around to face one of the two huge monoliths in suit and tie that had trailed along after her.
"Robert?"
"Yes, miss Hewitt?"
"This is Matthew. He is not a deranged fanatic freak who wants to kill me or marry me or something. He is an old friend of mine. So if he wants to see me on the sets, or at the hotel, you let him in, ok?"
"Fair enough, miss Hewitt."
"Oh, and if he ever calls me Jimbo again, you have my permission to slap him silly."
"As you wish, miss Hewitt."
"Good boy!"
"Will that be all, Jimbo?" the tower of a man said, without the slightest trace of a smile. His partner however couldn't help but emitting a short laugh. Jennifer just looked from one to the other, and then at me.
"You guys are hopeless, you know that? Oh well, let's go."
-----------
For a two horse town in the middle of the great North American Nowhere we had a pretty decent hotel. No four star palace, but modern and comfortable, with good service, a terrific kitchen and a bar that that felt far more metropolitan than this place really deserved. Since the arrival of actors and production crew a few days earlier that bar had become the obvious place for the guests to hang around, have a drink or just take it easy after finishing shooting scenes for the day. Naturally, it then also became crowded with clusters of star-struck locals trying to spot some of the famous faces. Jennifer and I agreed that we'd want a bit more peace and quiet, so we headed over to the much less crowded cafeteria and took a corner table. Her two stone-faced gorillas thoughtfully kept their distance, ordered at the desk and sat down in the other end of the room. A waitress came by and took our order. After the usual "Ohmigod, you're her, aren't you?" directed to the girl beside me, she walked away, an autograph and an order for juice and Pepsi richer.
As we waited for our drinks, Jennifer nudged me and directed my attention toward the bodyguards' table. Their coffee had arrived, and it seemed that the one called Roger was a bit of a connoisseur, as he had ordered a small cup of espresso. Now, Roger was a huge guy. 6"5 and built like a brick. His arms were trunks, and his hands were like baseball gloves. Seeing him lift that tiny piece of china and carefully take a sip was one of the most surreal things I'd ever seen. We both broke out laughing. It was the strangest feeling. Here I was, sitting with the woman I hated, and having an absolutely delightful little moment.
"What's up with the gorillas anyway?" I asked her.
"Oh, I had some weird creep calling me, like hundred times every day, showing up outside my house, and my parent's house. He sent me tulips, white chocolate and..get this...stuffed doves!"
"You're not serious! That's creepy as hell."
"Yeah well, you almost gets used to it. This isn't the first weirdo either. Some years ago there was this guy who proposed to me, once every week for over six months."
"Now that's love, baby."
She laughed. Then suddenly, Jennifer looked up at me, all serious.
"Look," she said. "I'd really want to know. Where do I stand with you? I mean, we didn't exactly part ways on an up-note, if you know what I mean. I was going to call you, and to try to set things straight, but with my life spinning so fast those years it never seemed to be the right moment. And when I finally came around to, you were no where to be found. I wanted to apologize for running away like that, I guess. "
"Girl, you really need to wind down. That happened ages ago, and we're both different persons now. You know, thinking back, I realized that I wasn't the only one with a major crush on you."
She tilted her head. "What do you mean?" she asked with prying eyes. Didn't she know? How the hell could she not had noticed?
"C'mon, don't act all innocent now," I said with a wink. "Back in school, you had more admirers than all the other girls put together. You were pretty, you were popular, and you loved every minute of it. And although you had only been in a few TV shows, we had our very own moviestar to worship. You wouldn't believe the schemes I heard back then for getting into your pants. Of course, they were all pretty dumb, and would never had worked. You weren't exactly the kind of girl who would put out. Or were you, Jimbo?"
"Damn sure I wasn't!"