M
e, Myself, & I
"They call me the sexiest man in Hollywood, but all I see in the mirror is the little boy whom no one wanted — the runaway whom no one cared to look for.
The result of too much booze and the lusts of a sick man.
I have everything money can buy. I am the talk of the town, the hot gossip of every magazine across the world. I am supposed to be happy — but I've tried taking my life more than once.
I was born into darkness that tainted my existence. The blood of my father still burns in my veins, and no matter how I try to outrun it,
it will always catch up. Wherever I turn, bad luck follows me.
Becoming who I am today has been a long journey, but the fame that most people would die for, I didn’t even want. All I ever wanted was a way to escape reality. I found it and stuck with it.
Acting always was a coping strategy, so clinging to the thing that kept me alive was natural.
I am Johnny Grey, and this is my story.
" The dreams of never-ending love never died from overconsumption of alcohol, but they were dead now. Shattered the moment my eyes had fallen on the headlines of today. And no amount of whiskey could numb the pain of having my heart ripped out in public. Reduced to hot gossip for the world to revel in.
" “Welcome to Pinebrook”. The car came to a screeching halt as I stepped on the brake. There was no way I could do this. What had I been thinking? Sixteen hours on the road. 57.600 seconds of mentally preparing and the feelings coursing through me still had the power to crush me under its weight.
" ”The car crash, the overdose of sleeping pills —the broken shard of mirror glass. It had been easy.
So why did I hesitate now?”
Read the first chapter below
This excerpt from the book is unedited and not the final published version. Copyright by Daria M Paus,
and under no circumstances allowed to copy, share or distribute without my permission.
Chapter 1
*
The questions hailed over my head. Camera-flashes blinded me as I desperately pushed my way through the crowd of reporters.
Did you know?
How does it feel?
What will you do?
It took all my willpower not to scream. I hadn't fucking known. My whole world was falling apart and I felt like dying. What I would do? Drown my sorrows in the first bottle I could get my hands on. If I could make it to the car without passing out or punching the nearest person in the face.
Images of a stranger’s hands on her body flashed through my mind. The big black letters which had just moments ago turned my life upside down cut like blades through my heart.
I fell into the backseat of the black sedan and slammed the door in the face of the vultures fighting to get the last snapshot of me as the memories played out in my mind.
My mind went blank, a sharp white noise filling my ears as my body sagged against the seat in front of me. I hadn't seen it coming. She'd promised me a future, she'd said she loved me. One more broken promise -- presented to me by the tabloids.
"Where to?"
I could hear the driver's voice as in a haze, and I was sure it wasn't the first time he had asked the question.
My mind reeled. I couldn't make sense of anything. But somehow I found myself wondering how my heart could still be beating. I'd given it to her along with the diamond ring, and she’d thrown it away like yesterday's garbage.
My body broke into a cold sweat, and I felt sick. How could this be happening? Again. I managed to move, letting my head fall against the window. The cold glass felt good against my skin. Numbing, soothing. Fighting nausea, I closed my eyes in an attempt to escape this hell that was my life.
My Becca, cheating on me. I couldn't wrap my mind around it. And what bothered me the most was how I could have been so blind? All the late nights of work suddenly made sense. And the fights, which I'd been sure were just a result of stress and overloaded schedules, suddenly took on a whole new meaning. She'd grown tired of me. Tired of trying. Just like all the others had.
"Grey?"
I couldn't breathe.
"Johnny?" A different voice this time. And a hand on my arm.
"Anywhere but home."
I'd lost count of how many shots I'd downed, but when the waiter looked hesitant to serve me, it was probably too many. But I didn't care. As long as I could feel; it was too few. Countless times I'd tried to drown my dreams of never-ending love. And even though I always felt worse after, I was doomed to repeat the mistake over and over. The dreams never died from overconsumption of alcohol, but they were dead now. Shattered the moment my eyes had fallen on the headlines of today. And no amount of whiskey could numb the pain of having my heart ripped out in public. Reduced to hot gossip for the world to revel in.
"It's getting late."
I blinked, and the bar in front of me came back into blurry focus. Turning my gaze on the man sitting beside me, I shook my head, knowing all too well what he was implying.
“Johnny,” he said. “It’s time to go.”
I clenched my jaw. Marc wasn’t the compassionate type, but if he couldn’t even give me a break when I needed it the most, I didn’t know what I would do.
I scanned the bar for the waiter. Marc caught my hand mid-air, shaking his head to the waiter who nodded.
“What the fuck." I yanked my hand free, and the sudden jerk sent me flying off the stool as my head spun.
“For God’s sake.” Marc groaned, holding out a hand. I took it, letting him drag me to my feet.
“It's enough," he said. “You pay me to look after you, this is me doing that."
”I pay you to keep the bloody press out of my face." I scoffed. "Not this—“ I gestured to his arm tightly secured around my waist.
“Don’t need a fucking babysitter.”
He chuckled and I wanted to punch him in the face.
“I’ll take you home."
I shook my head. “I can’t—“
Facing her now was the last thing I wanted. The emotions were too raw. I still couldn't understand what had happened. At this moment all I could focus on was keeping myself together. To restrain from crying or shouting. Seeing her would only make it worse. It was too soon, too much.
Marc seemed to have read my mind.
"There's no good time," he said. "I'm sorry, man." He guided me toward the entrance, and I tried to resist all the way to the waiting car.
“You gotta go home sooner or later, just get it over with.“
When the car drove up the hill to our mansion in the drizzling rain, my stomach clenched and I felt nauseous.
The car came to a stop, and I turned my eyes on the white brick building towering over us. On the second floor, a window was lit up even though it was way past midnight. A brief flutter of the curtain made my chest tighten and I suddenly found it hard to breathe. Then after a few minutes, the light in the hallway seeped through the painted glass of our front door.
Marc opened the car door, but I couldn't bring myself to move.
“Come on,” he said, “get out. You've got this.”
I glared up at his steel eyes and stern face while trying to dig the lighter out of my pocket.
Marc reached out, letting a hand rest on my shoulder and for a brief moment, his face softened, and he sighed. "I hoped this wouldn't happen. You deserve better."
I could only stare at him, and he chuckled. "Come on, get this over with."
The front door slid open and she stepped out. Our eyes met, and judging by the look on her face, what I had seen today was true. She didn't even try to deny it, instead, she just stood there, staring at me as I stumbled out of the car.
Marc's hand on my arm steadied me. "I'm going home," he said. "Anything you need. I mean it."
I nodded, then slowly turned to face her.
"Johnny," she said. "I never meant for you to find out like this, I didn't know they would—“
"How long?" My voice was just a growl, and she flinched, twisting her face into a disgusted grimace.
"You're wasted." She took a few steps away from me. "You know I hate it when you drink."
I scoffed. What the fuck did she expect? How could she stand there so calm as if nothing had happened? Didn't she understand what she had done to me? How much I was dying inside just looking at her now.
"And I hate it when you fuck around behind my back," I shot back, taking a few fumbling steps toward her.
"Jesus." She shook her head, making her auburn curls dance across her back.
I watched Marc's car roll down the street, soon to disappear in the sea of glimmering lights, and wished I was somewhere far from the City of Angels and the Hollywood drama that was my life.
Letting my eyes drift to the sea, I lit a new cigarette, sucked in a few deep breaths, and finally turned my eyes on her. Only one question mattered. "Why?"
She lifted her gaze, and the images flooded my mind.
'Rebecca Gold, you’re the light in my darkness, you’re the one I’ve been searching for my whole life. I never want to live without you. Will you marry me?'
"Fucking why, Becca?"
“You know why.”
“I don’t.”
I clenched my jaw, focusing on the gentle rain on my face while silently counting my breaths in a useless attempt to ward off the anxiety -- and the memories which only yesterday had made me smile.
“Yes!”
The impact as her body slammed into mine threw my down-on-one knee position off and I tumbled down onto my back, dragging her down with me.
“I can’t take your name though,” she giggled at my puzzled expression.
“Becca Grey?” She shook her head, grinning as my eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“What the fuck is wrong with that?”
“Grey?” She pouted her lips as she seemed to consider it. “You think I’m gonna give up on bright shiny Gold, for a mere boring Grey?” She shook her head. “Uh uh. Not gonna happen Mr. That’s way too—“
“Just shut up and kiss me.”
She left me standing in the rain. A few minutes later, she came back, dragging the Louis Vuitton suitcase which we had so many times shared in travel. I shook my head. This was real. And it was far worse than what I'd first thought.
"Please don't."
She let out an exasperated sigh. "I can't do this anymore." She stopped in front of me, watching me in silence, and her face softened.
"I'm sorry," she said at last. "I never meant to hurt you."
If I spoke, I'd break in front of her. And I'd rather die than let her know how hard her betrayal had hit me.
"I care about you." She touched my arm. "I do, but—“
Something inside of me snapped.
"Bloody strange way to care." I yanked my arm away from her, staggered, and almost fell. She grabbed my upper arms as the world spun around me.
"Do you have any idea how it felt to find out from the fucking tabloids?" I shoved wet strands of dark hair out of my face to focus on anything else than the tears burning behind my eyes.
She sighed.
“Seriously Becca?” The volume of my voice made her grimace, but I didn't care. If she didn't like my shouting, she should have thought about that before screwing some bastard when she was supposed to be mine.
"All the time I—“ My voice broke. "All the fucking time, the late nights you left me alone waiting for you." I swallowed down a lump in my throat, choking on my words. "You were with some—“ I couldn't go on. I couldn't take the suffocating feeling inside of me. I could barely breathe. “You make me sick.”
"I'm leaving.” She let go of me with a shove that sent my body tumbling to the ground.
My eyes were locked on her as she slid the ring off her finger.
"I've had enough of your drama. I can't do this anymore." She tossed the ring my way, and I watched it sail through the air. The little chink as it bounced off the gravel echoed through my mind.
"You're either too much or too little." She threw her hands out in frustration. "I've tried, I tried everything, Johnny. You've made your choice. I'm fucking done with you."
She grabbed the suitcase and strode toward her car without even giving me a second glance.
"Becca." I reached out a hand as if the gesture alone could stop the tail-lights from fading into the dark as she drove down the hill.
The last ounce of self-control vanished with her. My screams echoed in my head as my body shook with held-back emotion finally allowed to surface. I dug my fingers into the gravel. The sharp pebbles pressed into my skin as I tightened my fists around them. The pain felt good.
*
The first rays of sun broke through the clouds early the next morning. I blinked at the sharp light, groaning as the headache pounded in my temples. For a long time, I had no clue what had happened, I didn't even know where I was.
Dragging myself into a sitting position, I took in the surroundings, and last night slowly came back to me.
A sharp pain shot through my hands as I untangled stiff fingers one by one. Pebbles clung to dried blood. I winced. The pain I could handle. The strange hollow feeling inside of me was so much more tangible than the physical pain.
One part of me just wanted to lie back down onto the gravel and disappear into the ground.
The ring glistened in the pink morning light, and my breath stopped. The few seconds of numb vacuum soon gave way for the pain. They say heartbreak isn’t real, but I could have sworn my heart shattered right then and there. The tremble rushing through my body and the cold pain as my insides twisted into a tight knot was physical. It washed through me like a wave of liquid nitrogen, killing everything in its way. Stealing the love I’d so desperately clung to, snuffing the last sparks of hope, and ruthlessly destroying my happy ending.
When I stumbled through the door, the silence rang in my ears, taunting me with the emptiness. Even though the house was big, I never felt it when she was there. But I felt it now, stronger than ever. What was the purpose of having it all? A mansion too big for one man. A private island but no one to share the freedom with. More money than I could ever spend. What did it matter? When the only thing I'd ever wanted, money couldn't buy.
I dragged my aching body to the couch and collapsed onto it. I couldn't even care about the still wet clothes clinging to my body like a cold shroud, about the gravel still buried into my flesh, I just wanted to sleep and forget it all.
Becca wasn't the first one to walk out on me, but she was the only one whom I’d dared to see a future with.
They all grew tired in the end. They all left me alone to pick up the pieces of my broken life, and I did, every time.
I didn't want to pick up the pieces this time, didn't want to do anything. I'd had it. This time I was done.
I closed my eyes, hoping I'd never have to open them again.