Everybody Comes to Hollywood

PART 2: Celebrity

***

COLLEGE, ALMOST SIX YEARS AGO

Andrea called me the second her plane landed in San Francisco. Already we were both crying and blubbering into the phone about how much we missed each other. She called me again the moment she got to her dorm room. I pleaded with her to come home, but we both knew that wasn't a real possibility.

That first year of college I was a wreck. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat. It felt like half of my soul had been ripped apart from me and I couldn't rest until I felt whole again. My grades were suffering, and I lost weight. So much for the freshman fifteen. Andrea, on the other hand, was adjusting normally. She was always the strong one. We talked to each other every night. My mom was going to have a fit over the phone bill. Andrea encouraged me, and I kept up my writing. It was an emotional outlet to let off steam. My work was far from prize-winning, but it was the one constant in my life I could depend on.

Then one night, Andrea didn't call when she was supposed to. I tried calling her, but only ended up getting her answering machine. I was in a panic the whole night, dreaming up the worst possible scenarios for what had happened to her. The next evening she called me, and apologized for missing our appointment. I was too relieved to be angry with her.

Then we started calling each other once a week. Then once every other week. Then every month. Then one day, she called to tell me she had a new boyfriend.

We didn't talk very much after that. I longed for some closure, but it never came. Absence had made my heart grow fonder for nearly a year. But my absence had apparently just made her heart forgetful. We were in separate worlds, divided by thousands of miles. By the year's end we'd just... drifted apart.

Andrea wasn't coming home that summer. She'd gotten an internship close to the school. And to top things off, since she was an only child, her parents packed themselves up and moved to California to be closer to her. So I had no hopes of her coming back home to me ever again.

I sank into a depression, listening to dark and gothic music and watching Outer Limits reruns. When I got back to college for my second year, alcohol was plentiful and I rapidly turned into a morose drunk, and even tried a few recreational drugs to hide from my own existence. You should read some of the things I wrote during that period... crazy... But then, Bethany saved me.

One Friday night, my friends had dragged me off to some frat party, and while they were up and about having a good time, I kept my butt planted in a couch drinking every hard liquor I could find. I was the silent, morose drunk you see skulking in the corner. The wallflower party pooper. That was fine with me. Every great writer had to go through some serious pain.

I had just finished upending a bottle of tequila, draining it to the last drop. My head was thick and my vision blurry, and it took me a while to realize that I had been holding the bottle upside-down over my gaping mouth for the last five minutes with nothing coming out.

I blinked and groaned, and the bottle dropped to the floor next to me with a soft *toonk*. I had just grabbed a fifth of vodka and unscrewed the cap when a blurry figure dropped onto the couch next to me and snatched the bottle away.

I turned my head, a little too fast, and winced at the pain shooting through my temples. After a minute or two my eyes adjusted to see a pretty girl guzzling the vodka as if it were water. She must have gulped down half of it in one swig before gasping out in a hoarse breath and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

I looked at her in shock. I'd never seen anyone drink like that before in my life. She handed me the bottle back and let loose a foul-smelling burp into my face. I scrunched up my nose at the stench and her eyes lit up, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips as I waved away the noxious fumes.

She giggled, "Sorry." She laughed a few more times, obviously wasted. "Hmm, you're kinda cute."

She wasn't half-bad herself. Porcelain white complexion stood out sharply against her raven black hair and all black nightlife attire. Leather boots and a sharp black dress made her seem something of a gothic princess. She was a little bit on the chubby side, but she more than made up for it with a bodacious rack and a juicy ass. The neckline of her dress plunged sharply to show off the firmest, roundest tits I'd ever laid eyes on, full D-cups that just begged for attention. And she had bright green eyes that glowed like emeralds, and would probably have been brighter if not for the heavy layers of black mascara coating her eyes.

Seemingly after hours of staring at her body, I managed to respond, "You're not half-bad yourself."

She giggled again, drunkenly. Then she just grabbed my chin and leaned forwards, staring into my eyes. "I'm Bethany." And then she shoved her tongue down my throat. The pleasure shooting through me set fire to every drop of alcohol in my body. I was suddenly feeling every sensation like electricity crackling in my veins.

When she finally pulled away, she licked her lips thoughtfully while gazing at me through heavy-lidded eyes. Some drunken frat boy came by and made a snide comment about her tits. In a split second she grabbed the half-full bottle and whizzing it through the air, broke the glass across his shoulder, sending glass shards and vodka flying. She grabbed my hand and unsteadily got to her feet. "Time to get out of here."

***

I woke up confused, disoriented. It took me a minute to realize where I was. In my dorm room, in my bed, with Bethany's head on the pillow next to me. What the...? How did I get here? Did I...? Did we...? Then I realized that we were both naked, and cuddling in a very intimate position. Did I have sex with the second woman ever in my life? Was I betraying Andrea? How come I couldn't remember anything?

Damn, I had the worst hangover. I could see clearly now for the first time in nearly a day, but my head felt like it was being split in half. I looked around the room, still empty, thankfully. My roommate and I didn't really get along, and he had gone home for the weekend to visit his parents. I remembered almost nothing of last night, not even if I'd been a good lover or not. I was more than a year out of practice, and was absolutely certain that I'd been pathetic in bed.

Bethany began to stir, her head dragging along my chest until her face was right before me. Gingerly, she blinked open her eyes, and grumbled something about the place being too bright. When her eyes finally came into focus, she looked at me a little quizzically and then peeked down between her breasts to confirm that we were both completely naked.

I just stared back at her, waiting for her to figure out where she was before the questions began.

She kind of squinted at me, still looking rather confused. "Um... I'm sorry. I don't think I ever got your name."

I told her, and then confirmed that her name was Bethany. She nodded yes, then looked around my room again in confusion. I was trying to think of something intelligent to say, but then her eyes bugged out and she was making a mad dash to my bathroom. Audible retching sounds ensued.

When she returned, I found myself staring at her body as she tried to find her clothes tossed around the floor. Great tits, impossibly round and firm, with only a hint of sag. Shapely hips over a thick ass with some nice padding to it. Pleasant face. Not supermodel gorgeous but still very attractive if it weren't for that black makeup around her eyes. It was a strange paradox, she looked like a gothic vamp but right now it didn't really seem to suit her. But then nature called and I found myself limping into the bathroom to relieve myself.

When I emerged Bethany was already dressed. She lifted herself up on her tiptoes and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. Leaning back, she smiled at me happily. I guess maybe I wasn't so bad last night after all.

"Don't worry about last night. I won't hold it against you."

Last night? Was I THAT bad? "Um, well. I was pretty drunk and I don't really remember anything. What happened?"

Bethany giggled, a friendly smile without hint of malice or scorn. "Don't worry about it. You were so wasted you fell asleep before we could get busy!" She kissed me again on the cheek. "I'll see you later."

And before I could get her phone number or anything, she was gone.

***

Bethany came by my room that evening, rather unexpectedly. It was a Saturday and I was mired in my own depressions. I was writing a new poem that would have fit right alongside any Nine Inch Nails album. My roommate was still out, so I sat in front of my computer with the lights off, only the harsh glare of the monitor in my face.

Then suddenly the door was open and Bethany was throwing her book bag onto the floor next to my bed. Without further ado she dropped into my lap and started to read what I had written. She critiqued a few lines, instantly putting me on the defensive and complaining that I had stolen a few themes from some obscure literary reference I'd never heard of.

I asked her what she knew about writing and she pulled out a thick journal filled with her own self-deprecations. I should have known then that Bethany wasn't truly a girl in the midst of real personal chaos and disorder. The journal was neatly laminated and organized, with soft colors in neat printing. The words were dark and gothic, but the rest of it didn't match.

We bantered back and forth for the next four hours or so, debating philosophy and the meanings behind certain phrases and verbiage. When our stomachs started growling sometime around midnight Bethany just up and ordered some pizza for us from a local late-night joint that catered to the college crowd.

And then it was back to talking, debating, yelling to get our points across and laughing at our own emotional reactions. For a few hours I forgot that Bethany was this attractive woman I'd just met. She was just a smart-ass person who probably could rip me apart in a true intellectual debate.

We both were finally exhausted sometime around four in the morning, and I realized that my head was threatening to fall off. We'd been sitting side by side on my bed, leaning against the wall. I blinked hard to clear out the cobwebs from my brain. Then when my eyelids opened again, the sunlight was streaming through my window blinds. My desk clock showed that it was just after seven in the morning. Not nearly enough sleeping time.

I was still sitting upright, my back to the wall and my neck was stiff from being stuck in that position all night. Bethany was lying asleep next to me, her head in my lap and her arm curled around one of my legs. I had just spent the second night in a row with a girl I barely knew. Gently, I lowered myself down until I could lie across my bed, grabbing a pillow to tuck under Bethany's head as well as grabbing one for myself. And then I surrendered myself to the bliss of exhausted sleep.

It was after noon when I stirred awake. I felt pleasingly comfortable, with a warm buzz running through my limbs like a relaxing massage through my muscles. When I finally got my eyes open I found that I was spooned in behind Bethany, my leg draped over hers and my free arm clutching her body to me. With a momentary thrill mixed with horror I realized my hand was cupping a very firm breast in my palm. But then I noticed that Bethany was already awake and doing nothing to remove the offending hand. She just smiled and blinked at me when she realized I was awake as well.

Gradually, we woke up and per usual, she left without giving me a chance to ask for her number. But I knew I would be seeing her again.

***

Once my roommate came back Bethany no longer spent the night with me, and I found that I missed her presence in my bed. She was like a warm, living teddy bear that brought me joy in my sleep, even if there was nothing overtly sexual about it. But she still came by every night, just to hang out and talk. There was a light in her eyes when she looked at me, like glowing emeralds sparkling underneath her jet black hair. I finally got her phone number, and was mildly relieved to find she was just another student in a dorm and not some psycho chick who stalked college guys.

My roommate eventually got used to her presence, referring to her as my girlfriend. This was odd in and of itself, as we hadn't done anything too sexual or beyond friendship since that first night. In a way I considered her my new best friend, albeit a female. And yet, in the back of my head I found myself yearning for more. She was smart and sassy, and devastatingly attractive to me.

We spent the next few months spending a great deal of time with each other, to where even my friends and everyone else in the building thought of Bethany as my girlfriend. I'm sure she got the same from her friends and everyone else. Still, neither of us monopolized the other's time. We had our own friends and our own studies and our own interests. I found out I could be so close to someone without NEEDING them to be with me all the time.

And all the while, I wished that she really was my girlfriend. I kept dropping hints here and there that I wanted to be more than friends with her, but since that first night, she'd never let out any hint that she was interested in me as anything more. So I just resigned myself to enjoy what I had. Ruining the friendship we'd formed was a risk I wasn't willing to take.

For a few days I actually thought she was more into girls than guys, which would explain her lack of attraction to me. She was very touchy- feely with her girlfriends and would often drop flirty lesbian comments. I asked her about it once, to which she replied that she just liked to have a good time, male or female.

Months went by as our friendship blossomed. I also noticed that as time went on, we both were listening to more contemporary music and wearing brighter clothes. She stopped wearing the dark mascara after I told her I didn't like it, and even our writings became increasingly brighter. Bethany even started to tease me that my writing work was slowly becoming that of a hopeless romantic. I hoped that she knew I was a hopeless romantic for her.

By the end of the year I had erased every trace of my self- destructiveness. I stopped smoking, quit drinking (well, drinking too much), and flushed the drugs down the toilet. I even started going to the gym, although that was only because Bethany dragged me with her. In the end I realized that she had helped me back to my normal life, and I think I had done the same for her. Some people like being gothic and morose. We realized it wasn't really us.

We separated for summer break at the end of that second year. Bethany's parents and her home were out of state, but she promised to keep in touch over the next few months.

Surprisingly, I found that I could handle the separation quite easily. We talked on the phone occasionally, sent a few letters and emails back and forth, and chatted online. But for the most part, I spent that summer enjoying my mom's home cooking and getting my brain in gear for both my studies and my writing career. After wasting away my first two years getting depressed and then digging myself out of that depression, it was time for my life to start over.

I was looking forward to the new school year.

***

Some friends and I were renting a house off-campus for the new academic year, and one of the chief benefits was my own room. I was in the midst of unpacking when I heard a knock at my open doorway. The next sight took my breath away.

Bethany had been busy. Her raven black hair had a stylish flip to it, a far cry from the gothic long locks in her face look from last year. Also gone was the dark makeup, instead proving she had a clear, pretty face underneath it all, her green eyes glowing out at me. And most of all, she'd ditched all traces of her old, dark wardrobe in favor of an electric green blouse and neutral skirt that wonderfully showed off the curves of her body. Everything was accented with some tasteful jewelry. Bethany had also taken her new exercise regimen to the next level over the summer because all of that extra baby-fat she'd had before was absolutely GONE. She still had her fabulous curves and amazing rack, but my friend had transformed herself into a bona-fide babe.

She just giggled a little watching me try to pick my jaw up off the floor, and then invited herself into my room. "I was going to ask 'What do you think?' but I believe I already have my answer."

I finally got my tongue untwisted and managed to utter, "You look great! I mean, not that you didn't look good before, but... wow!"

The light in her eyes flickered for just a moment and then she took a small breath, turning and closing the door. "So, do you find me physically attractive?"

"Of course."

She took a few more steps closer. Her eyes were looking straight into mine. "Good." Then she leaned forwards and experimentally tasted my lips.

I was suddenly filled with the spicy-sweet flavor of her, the musky scent of her body mingled with one of Calvin Klein's love potions. It was the first time we'd kissed since that fateful frat party, almost a year ago, but all the heady emotions from that night came right back to me. The electricity running through my limbs, that warm buzz in my muscles. The fire burning in my loins.

She pulled back, her eyes blazing with a lust I had never seen in her. "I think we've waited long enough, don't you?" she whispered to me.

My smile was so big it nearly cracked my face open. Only in my most optimistic dreams could I ever believe we could ever be together. I had resigned myself to eternally be "The Guy Friend." I gave her a bear hug, holding her tightly to me and then backed off just enough to look her in the eyes. "God, I've wanted you. You've KNOWN I wanted you. But why didn't you tell me sooner? We could have gotten together MONTHS ago!"

She glanced down, her cheeks filling with a cherry redness in embarrassment. "I wasn't ready yet. I didn't like me, and I didn't think I was good enough for you. I was angry at nothing, and I was dark and pessimistic. And I felt fat. Oh, I know you never minded but I knew I could be in better shape. And I wanted to wait until I was happy with me before we could really get together."

I couldn't argue with the results. Bethany was quite pretty to begin with. But now she was absolutely gorgeous. I started to say something, but she silenced me by pressing her lips to mine. When she backed away, her eyes were glittering. "Just shut up. Let's DO this already!"

The next thing I knew I'd pulled her on top of me on my bed and her tongue was carving out the back of my throat. I remember thinking that this had to be a dream, and I never wanted to wake up. And in that moment all the latent attraction for my friend I'd been storing for the past year came boiling to the fore, and I became the aggressor.

With a burst of energy I flipped us over, Bethany's eyes going wide in momentary surprise before I leaned down to devour her mouth with my own. My hard-on was grinding into her hip as I ripped my shirt over my head, my torso already sweating from passionate heat.

Her eyes smoldered a dark green as her fingers fumbled at her blouse, stripping the buttons as fast as she could to reveal a black satin bra that was accomplishing nothing but outlining the roundness of her breasts. She broke away for a moment to reach under her back to slip the catch on her bra and then flipped up the cups, letting my wild-eyed gaze drink in the perfection of female flesh before me, the same perfection I had dreamed of for nearly a year.

I had to taste them, and with my lips and tongue bathing those globes of heaven, Bethany tossed her head side to side, whimpering in pleasure. Meanwhile, I managed to drag her skirt and panties off her feet to drop them on the floor, finding that neatly-trimmed junction between her legs wet and juicing out of control.