I hated social gatherings.
Greyson’s whiskey launch was the first big event I attended since the Oscars, and I still wasn’t ready for it. I felt as if it took me about ten months to recover from awards season. Being surrounded by other celebrities was the most draining thing in the world, but I knew the publicity would be great for Greyson and his company. Even if we were in a space filled with snakes.
About 95percent of the people at the whiskey launch hated one another, though they smiled as if they didn’t. A room filled with actors. That’s what it meant to attend any social event with the extremely wealthy, but these individuals were real fucking actors. They all received their nourishment from LDG: lies, deceit, and gossip. About one-third of the crowd was probably heading toward bankruptcy yet lying their asses off about it. Another third was cheating on their spouses, and their mistresses were probably in the same room.
The last third were just really shitty humans.
Most conversations were pretty much women gossiping about crap that didn’t matter and guys talking about how their yacht was the biggest yacht out there. That conversation opener would always launch another person to disagree, then they’d talk about their huge, throbbing yacht engines.
Easy, fellas. You’re all beautiful snowflakes.
I sipped on my whiskey and kept myself engaged enough so the tabloids wouldn’t run stories about how antisocial I hadbecome. Normally I wouldn’t have even bothered attending an event like this, but since it was for Greyson, I knew I’d show up. There wasn’t much I wouldn’t do for my best friend, especially after the trauma he and his two girls went through when they were in a car crash a few months back.
Anything he ever needed, I’d do without question. I knew he’d do the same for me in a heartbeat.
“To your left is Ralph Weldon. He worked as a producer on your filmA Time Lapse. To his left is his wife Sandra, who just gave birth to their second child a few months ago,” Willow whispered as she leaned in toward me.
I smoothed my hands over my tailored Giorgio Armani suit. My eyes darted around the whiskey function, taking in the familiar faces of people I had crossed paths with throughout the years. I never forgot a face, but I was almost guaranteed to forget a name.
Thankfully Willow was always close by to lean in and whisper them to me. I wasn’t certain how I got anything done without her, let alone greeted others. Her brain was a filing cabinet of information, and she spat it out like Sherlock Holmes on a case. If I asked her what I’d eaten a year ago to the date, she could go into full detail about what seasonings were used in the dish. OK, maybe she wasn’tthatgood—but pretty damn close.
We walked over to Sandra and Ralph to greet them, and I congratulated them on their new child. If there was anything I was a master at, it was communicating with individuals in such a way that they felt at home when they spoke to me. It came as part of the celebrity job tasks: wining and dining individuals so you left a lasting impression. The goal was to have people so comfortable with you that the men would walk away thinking they could grab a beer with you and the women would wonder if a secret affair could take place.
Tacky, yet powerful. Being well received and liked in the world of acting was one of the best characteristics a person could hold. You couldn’t only be talented; you had to have a solid personality to showcase said talent. Plus, you’d leave an imprint on the individuals, and when casting directors started their search, you’d pop into their minds.
All of Hollywood was a game. All you had to do was know how to work the system. It took me a few years to get my footing in la-la land, but once I learned, I mastered my skills.
I’d never let people in close enough to know the real me. Otherwise, I doubt I would’ve landed as many roles as I had. For example, if Ralph and Sandra knew I’d suffered from one of my panic attacks on the way to the whiskey launch tonight, I doubt they would’ve found me as charming.
It’d been a while since I suffered from a panic attack, thanks to some good therapy sessions and the coping mechanisms I’d learned over the years. Yet after the spontaneous night of barging into Shay’s life uninvited and having her turn me away, my mind had gone into overdrive. I’d tried all the tools in my mental health tool belt, but unfortunately, that wasn’t how mental health worked all the time. Sometimes, in the quiet of the night, I’d fall victim to my body giving in to the panic overload.
Willow was in the SUV with me as our driver headed to the venue. She knew what was happening, too, because I always closed myself off completely. My hands gripped the sides of the seats, and I lowered my head between my thighs, trying to control my breathing.
Three good things, I’d thought to myself.
That was one of the basic teachings I’d learned from my therapist. When I was in a full-blown panic attack, I had to force myself to name three good things that happened in the pastforty-eight hours. They could be big or small, and they worked as reminders that I was going to be OK.
1. I woke up this morning.
2. Rookie ate all his dog food, something he’s been rebelling against since I gave him some human food the other night.
3. At least I was able to see Shay.
Three good things—three things I would’ve probably taken for granted in the past. The last thing I had definitely taken for granted.
Willow instructed the driver to take a few extra laps around the venue before dropping me off, and luckily, I’d been able to compose myself.
Once we entered the event, Willow took me around to greet a few others, and I charmed, and wowed, and played the role I’d learned to master. Empty conversations filled with no truths—it was what they wanted, so I fed them exactly that.
My eyes moved up from a producer who was going on and on about how he’d had his dick sucked by some intern a few nights ago—because that was normal cocktail conversation—and the moment they landed on the front entrance, I felt the small spark that lived inside my heart start to reignite into blazing flames.
“If you’ll excuse me, Paul,” I cut him off, taking a few steps away.
Willow was quick to accompany me. Her stare followed mine, and she tilted her head. “Well, of course that’s Greyson, but I’m not certain who the other two are. Hmm...” She tapped her fingers against her lips. “I can do some research and—”
“Shay,” I muttered, making her pause. “And her cousin Eleanor.”
“Shay,” Willow repeated. She arched an eyebrow. “You mean, like,ShayShay. Like...theShay?”