We’ll see where the night takes us.
I settle on the black hat, because it fits better with the black tailored dress shirt with matching skinny tie and black jeans I’m wearing. I’ll jazz the ensemble up with some bright red snake-print Vans or something. And my classic Bans. Naturally.
As I’m finishing up getting ready, my phone buzzes in my pocket. Brant’s texting me about the realtor. Season one of Hell Storm was confirmed to film on location in Georgia for four months, starting in April of next year. That’s a little over six months away, but I guess Brant’s itching to lock me down a house out there, since my agent and publicist both feel rather confident that this series will pick up. And if that’s the case, I’ll be living somewhere outside of Savannah every summer for the foreseeable future.
I’m brimming with excitement. I’ve never worked on something so big before. The hype is real already, which riddles me with the desire to bounce off my walls.
Looks like I’ll be flying out to Georgia to look at houses soon!
I reply to Brant quick then pull up a text to my new costar, just to check in. Andrew and I have been texting regularly since that meeting the other day, and I smell a brand new bestie in the works.
Me: Georgia here we comeeeee!
He writes back almost instantly, though I’m not sure what time it is in London.
Andrew: OMG please get me hyped right now! Viv is giving me so much grief already and it’s rather cocking up my mood
I laugh at his odd British terminology, then frown because I feel bad. He’s such a cool guy. I don’t understand what his wife’s problem is.
Me: That sucks bro. It’s gonna be killer tho! All of us living out there!
Andrew: I know! Johnny’s excited as ever to meet you. He’s a hellraiser so prepare your liver now lol
Me: LOL dude I’m so game! The 3 of us out and about could be nothing but trouble ;)
Andrew: Make sure to clear it w your girlfriend :-P
Okay, so I may have told him about Alex.
I couldn’t help it! I needed to talk to someone, and I couldn’t tell my usual friends that I’m vibing on a girl. I can’t even tell them I have a friend who’s a girl, let alone one who I am not actually banging. They’d have me committed.
So Andrew knows that me and Alex made out a little… in my bed… with my dick out.
Ball-busting is to be expected.
Me: Haha you’re HILARIOUS. Speaking of, I’m going to her art show right now so I’ll ttyl. Ignore your wife. Georgia’s gonna rock!
Andrew: Thanks man. Have fun… and don’t do anything the old me wouldn’t do ;)
I’m still laughing as I tuck my phone into my pocket and head out the door.
Jimmy’s waiting for me outside with the Nav, and I hop into the backseat quick, signaling without words to get this show on the road. He speeds off, and we make our way downtown to the gallery.
It takes us only twenty minutes to get there, and as we pull up in front, I’m shocked to see a line. I squint out the window in disbelief. There’s an actual line in front of the gallery for my friend’s first art show. That’s unheard of for an unknown artist. The gallery must have one hell of a PR team.
Or Alex is that good, which I don’t doubt in the slightest.
Jimmy gets the door for me and as soon as I step out of the vehicle, lights start flashing in my face. I’m thrown off for a second because I didn’t even see any paparazzi, but it turns out the guest list includes more celebs than just little ol’ me. I recognize some fellow actor friends being ushered inside another entrance, along with a couple famous musicians and socialites I’ve seen out and about at parties.
This event is poppin already and it just freaking started!
I ignore the questions being shouted at me by the paps as Jimmy guides me to the side door the others were being led into. There’s a man wearing a headset and holding a clipboard standing there, but he obviously doesn’t ask me for my name, he just moves aside. I nod a silent thank you to Jimmy, and I’m in.
The place is nice inside. It’s freezing, like galleries always are, and the lighting is dim, which I’m guessing is done on purpose to showcase Alex’s work. There aren’t many people in here just yet, since most of the RSVP’s are still waiting on line. But I’m already receiving nods, waves and pats on the back from some people I know, and some I don’t remember, which isn’t me being a dick. I just meet a fuck-ton of people.
I say hello to everyone I see because I’m polite like that, but I’m not stopping to talk to anyone until I greet the star of the show. I need to give my friend a hug because damn… I’m proud as hell and I haven’t even inspected any of the pieces yet.
That being said, I can’t help but sneak a few peeks as I’m walking through the place in search of Alex. Many of them catch my eye right off the bat. Her style is very gothic-chic, some echoing her weirdness, some showcasing her pain. But all of them scream Alex.
They’re gorgeous.
I finally spot her, standing with a tall woman and a short man, a glass of champagne in her right hand while she motions about something with her left.
And I’m stopped dead in my tracks by how much of a goddamned smokeshow she is.
Donning a black leather dress that’s one-shouldered and so fitted I can see every intricate curve of her delicious body from where I’m standing, she is by far the most beautiful woman in this place, and even the whole damn city. She has on these chunky black platform booties that are exactly her style, since she doesn’t rock Louboutins like every other basic girl in NYC. She’s Alex, and she’s different. Her clothes are expensive, but she doesn’t look like she’s trying… at all. That’s not to say she doesn’t look put-together. In fact, the opposite is true. Her style and beauty are effortless.
That dark, illustrious hair is long and straight, swept over to one side, and I can see she has some big earrings and bracelets going on. She just looks so cool. She’s the most captivating woman in the room, no matter where she goes.
I urge myself to move so I’m not standing around gawking like a weirdo, and saunter over to my friend whom I kissed the other day for several leisurely minutes, all the while checking out her legs and ass, and even the scrumptious skin on her neck. Now I know just how good it tastes; how warm and creamy it feels on my lips.
I need to calm the hell down before I lose space in the crotch of my already very fitted jeans.
“It’s definitely reflective of the relationship between God and man, you’re right about that,” Alex speaks, sounding sophisticated and worldly, while also managing to come off cuter than those baby otter videos everyone shares on Facebook. “But I don’t know, when I look at it, I see the humor, as well. I found it to be voicing that God had a secret, and was more than willing to hold it over the man’s head… If that makes any sense.”
Alex lets out a breathy giggle, flipping her hair while her guests laugh and clap, their faces lighting up over her words, and her description of the piece they’re all standing before. It’s a deep blue background, heavily scraped across the canvas, with a large formless being of mostly eyes looking down at a crumbled mass of limbs beneath it.