I'm not going to go, Astin tells himself. Nope. No doing. It'll be just like last time. And the time before that. Not going to fucking pretend to socialize, not going to stand around, hold a drink, and stare at the leaves floating in the pool while porn stars (who would probably rather fuck each other in said pool with the floating leaves) ( Read more... )

you have... one... new message

playing message...

november seventeenth two thousand and three... eleven thirty-seven pm

beep

Bro! Bro. You there? Pick up the fucking phone ( Read more... )

I don't dream a lot. When I do, though, it's usually in black and white. I can stop, rewind, re-play, pause, fast forward. I'm the director of my dreams. Just me ( Read more... )

I couldn't sleep last night. Mars was staring at me through my window ( Read more... )

you have... one... new message

playing message...

august twenty-fifth two thousand and three... eight fifty-two pm

beep

Hey, bro! Mack, here. Oh, man, you are a fucking savior. I'll pay you back, I swear. It's just, you know, kinda tight at the moment, 'cause of the film eating itself and everything. But the agent (got a new one, did I ( Read more... )

- several hours after thisEven before his eyelashes are able to become unstuck and separate, Astin can see the little red light blink... blink... blink on the very tip of his answering machine. His alarm (set to seven-thirty on the dot) hasn't gone off yet, but that's not exactly the point, because he's awake for some odd reason, and his light is ( Read more... )

There's an old man who has been sitting in front of my apartment building since before I moved in here six or seven years ago. He sits on the curb next to the rusted bus sign in a ragged, mangy suit that twenty years ago would have been the cutting edge in fashion. He sits there rain or shine, scanning the street and the passerby. I've never ( Read more... )

It's just now turning dark. The party won't be over for hours to come. The pool water will still be warm from the heat of the sun, and the guests will drink champagne while lounging with their feet hanging over the edge and splish-splashing. Clink, clink, let's have a toast!, they'll insist, and Johnny will stand up, stand tall, whilst people ( Read more... )

The mirror is cool against his flushed forehead. He leans forward, pressing his skull against the glass, hard, harder, until the sharp bam, bam, bam of pain behind his eyeballs dulls ever so slightly. Breathe. In. Out ( Read more... )

I ran out of extra strength Tylenol this afternoon, there's three set-ups left to shoot, not to mention the fact that the lead boom operator has some sort of Malaysian stomach flu, so the rest of us have to cope, and jesus christ, Johnny's been in and out of the bathroom all damn day, and I know damn well that no single man can piss that often ( Read more... )