Chapter 1

Chapter One

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"I'm old enough to be her fucking father, George."

"I'm not asking you to marry her, Ban. I'm just asking you to take on the movie."

"And I'm telling you – there's no way I am doing a love scene with a girl half my age who could pass as my fucking daughter. I'm not doing it."

"She's a very mature actress for her age, Banner."

"She's a fucking baby, George."

"Fine! I'll tell the producers you want a stand-in for the sex scenes. There shouldn't be a problem with that since you are so popular. But you are going to have to do the kissing parts. No stand-ins for that."

"Fine." I concede knowing he"ll just keep going on and on if I don"t. "Just get the stand-in and have the contracts drawn up."

I stare back down at the packet I have in my hands. It's a typical packet we get from most of the actors and actresses doing a movie with things like the name, age, and sizes of the person in the picture staring back at you. So why am I so… annoyed at the packet George, my agent, handed me today? Why does it piss me off to think about the girl smiling back at me from the black-and-white picture being my lead actress?

I toss the packet down and go around the bar so I can make myself something cold and stiff. Exactly the way I feel. Cold and stiff.

I don't even pretend to show George out. He knows the way. I take my drink to the sliding glass doors and stare outside at the pool and the twinkling lights of the city beyond it. Maybe I need to get away for a while, go somewhere I've never been and stay for a few days. And not tell anyone where I am. George would shit himself silly and half of Hollywood would be right there with him.

How did I end up this way? This…jaded and disillusioned? Was I ever as fresh-faced as the kid in that press packet staring out with hopeful eyes and innocent smiles? I find myself going back over to the top of the bar and picking up her picture again. If she knew the things I do, would she still want this career? Would she still be driven to find the illusive mistress, Fame? It doesn't stay with you and when you need it most, it disappears like smoke in the wind.

Maybe… maybe it's time I thought about settling down. Maybe that's what I am missing. Some of my friends are doing it so it can't be that bad, can it? I look around me and try to imagine what it would be like to have someone here with me… someone invading my space… and I shudder. That seems like sweet, hot hell to me, the special kind of hell that comes when you eat something too sweet and then go on a roller coaster ride on a hot summer day after downing a liter of soda. Yeah, that's the kind of hell having some stranger being in my home illicitly.

Guess I'll just stay put and do this damned movie George is bitching at me to do and keep doing the same damned things over and over again. Isn't that what other people think hell is? Guess either way I'm going to be in hell, might as well get drunk enough tonight that I don't care one way or another.

And yet…my attention is drawn back to the kid in the picture again and again and… again. Hell, she even follows me into my dreams. Only in my dreams I don't have as high a regard for morality - or care that the girl is young enough to be my daughter. In my dreams, I say to hell with it and end up throwing the fresh-faced little thing down on the ground.

Once I have her there, I don't have a problem teaching her all the evil things I've learned in my time as reigning king of Hollyhell. Every debauched, dirty, foul thing. And in my dreams…she doesn't fucking care that I am sullying her innocence, that I turn her sweet lily-white aura into the most scarlet red possible. In my dreams, she takes her place by my side as my queen. In my dreams, she gives me a reason to rule over everything we see before us.