5

                                    

                                          
I can't believe I am counting days until I can finally get back to work. What the hell has the world come to that a giant gash on my head and I would still rather have 15 hours straight of shootings than watch Charlie's annoying face for one more second. Since when did the man get free reign into our apartment parading in and out of the bedroom as he wished was completely beyond my comprehension.
                          
Well, to be fair it was Kong's apartment, and Kong's bedroom, and ofcourse Kong he was coming to see every day, but that's not really the point is it? I was the invalid and seeing how he is my manager slash best friend I was fully in my rights to be thoroughly splayed across Kong's massive bed until I got back in perfect shape. And who knows when would that ever happen seeing the overly audible moaning and groaning in pain I did every day. Obviously me taking over his bedroom had nothing to do with ensuring no hanky panky was happening behind my back. Nope, none at all.
                          
My butt still firmly stuck on his plushy mattress, I was doing my darndest to focus on the script in my hand when I finally heard the front door click shut. My ears immediately perking up at the faint sound as I hopped out of bed and practically ran outside to the living room.
                          
"Has he gone yet?"
                          
"Yup."
                          
"Oh thank God. My brain had almost started melting out of boredom. How do you bear the man droning on and on about the stupidest, most mundane things on earth?"
                          
I plopped on the couch next to him where he was working on his laptop, instantly turning around to brush away my hair gingerly to check on my wound just like he did when I was away from his sight for more than 5 minutes. Turning back his attention to his screen once he was satisfied with my healing progress. His face morphing into an expressionless mask once more.
                          
"He isn't that bad."
                          
"Seriously? The man described the blue sneakers he had as a 9 year old kid. For 40 fucking minutes. I was almost this close to building a time machine only to go back in time and destroy those blasted things only to save the future of humanity from such world ending boredom. I can't even imagine how lame his dates must be. Maybe I should tag along next time. Just to make sure you are entertained ofcourse."
                          
"Maybe if you were actually reading your script instead of eavesdropping on our conversation he wouldn't have bothered you so much. Oh and another novel solution to not getting annoyed by Charlie would probably be to not be around him."
                          
"Perfect! So you will tell him to not come over from now on?"
                          
"Or maybe you could try going back to your place at some point."
                          
"I can't. It smells remember?"
                          
"I had it professionally cleaned remember?"
                          
I would have given a snappy come back if I could have thought of one, but I couldn't so I used the only trick I have up my sleeve currently where I rub my head, pretend to be brave in the face of excruciating pain, make puppy dog eyes, and wait till Kong rolls his eyes at my antics and drops the subject. Although perhaps this might be a good time to come up with a slightly longer term strategy cause my wound was almost healed, and saving Kong from mind numbingly boring dates by hogging all of his free time was going to be slightly more difficult seeing how we get back to our normal shoot schedule tomorrow. Oh but that's not the only problem haunting me. it gets so much worse. 
                          
Remember the movie I signed on without consulting Kong? Guess who is the latest actor they hired in a supporting role. That's right, the bane of my existence. Isn't that just brilliant. It's almost like I keep hitting the jackpot on the shiftiest lottery.
                          
It still completely baffles me as to what Kong even sees in the man. Sure he may be reasonably decent looking. And since I am feeling particularly generous I will even go as far as to say that he wasn't the most atrocious actor. Probably the fame and fortune that came along with being a movie star might be appealing to some. But Kong? No way! He was practically stuck to the hip to a bigger, more famous, and definitely better looking movie star for close to a decade now. And if hanging around me doesn't get him star struck surely Charlie didn't get his antenna rising.
                          
And yet no matter how convinced I was that this was nothing more than an evil prank they were playing on me, Kong seems to want to continue dating this milquetoast. So I guess I had no option but to be a supportive best friend. 
                          
By that I obviously mean convincing Kong that he was making the stupidest decision of his life of course. Except it wasn't going that well for me. You see my own love history isn't particularly that stellar either. Hence, every time I raised some very valid points about Charlie being a dimwit, Kong had to say little other than the word 'Krystal' and we were suddenly at an impasse. 
                          
I guess as long as no romantic sonnets are being sung currently I still have time to knock some sense into Kong. As of now I do actually need to finish reading my script before tomorrow seeing how my little injury has thrown everyone's schedule into disarray. 
                          
Leaning almost all of my weight against Kong I actually started reading the papers in my hand for the first time. Finding the last night of our faux vacation together oddly relaxing when for once we weren't running around constantly and we had this moment to just sit beside each other. It didn't even matter that we weren't talking, or that we were just doing our own thing. Just feeling his warm body against my back, our breathing unconsciously synchronizing as he continued tapping rhythmically on the computer, felt so peaceful, so serene that I was almost lulled into sleep. Finding it harder and harder to focus on the words dancing around in front of me when I suddenly snapped upright, gripping the sheets in my hand tightly as I read the last line over and over again.
                          
"What the fuck?"
                          
"Now what is it?"
                          
"Why the hell do I have a kissing scene with goddamn Charlie?"



                          
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