I am Hollywood

Chapter 14: What are the Odds?



[Chapter 14: What are the Odds?]

"Come on, eat up. Once you're done, I'll take you home. I've noticed you yawning several times you must be tired," Eric said.

Drew took a sip of her juice, casting a playful glance at Eric. "You could just take me home, you know. Whatever works for you!"

"Cough..." Eric choked for a moment, hurriedly covering his mouth with a napkin as he shot Drew an intense glare. This girl truly had no boundaries.

Slowly, Eric noticed that Drew was eating more slowly, speaking less, and even her hands gripping the knife and fork were slightly trembling.

Just as he started to ask Drew if she was feeling unwell, he suddenly recalled certain people he'd seen in their circles and Drew's current state, quickly confirming a dreadful realization: Drew's drug addiction had likely flared up.

It couldn't be this coincidental, he thought bitterly, watching Drew struggle to hold herself together. He quickly called out to the waiter, "Excuse me, could we get the check?"

At that moment, Eric just wanted to escape. The fact that many people were aware of Drew's addiction -- even if it had made the papers -- did little to ease his mind. After all, without proof, there couldn't be a scandal. Most people still remembered Drew from E.T. as that sweet little girl kissed by an alien. If anyone were to catch a glimpse of her struggling with her addiction in a public place, and worse, snap a photo, it would devastate her image.

Having paid swiftly, Eric turned to the now slightly dazed Drew and said, "Drew, let's go. I'll take you home."n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

As they walked out of the restaurant with Eric supporting her, he could feel her petite frame trembling against him, evoking a sense of sympathy.

Once in the car, Drew curled up in the passenger seat, shivering uncontrollably. Turning to Eric, she managed, "Eric, can you... can you help me get... get some..."

"No," Eric said firmly. "Drew, just hang in there. I'll take you home. Can you tell me your address?"

"No," Drew shook her head quickly, suddenly breaking out into hysterics. "I don't want to go home! I don't want to go home! That woman will see me like this and just send me off to rehab! I'm not going back! Not going back!"

Eric hurriedly reassured her, "Okay, okay, we won't go back." He paused, then started the car, steering it toward his own home.

...

After parking in his garage, Eric picked Drew up, who had completely lost herself in chaos, and carried her into his bedroom.

"Eric, Eric, I'm begging you... please, do you want me? Just give me some! Anything you want, I'll do it -- please!" Drew sobbed, clutching onto Eric's collar desperately.

"No, Drew, I can't do that. It would only make things worse," he replied, placing her gently on the bed. Just as he was going to grab a damp cloth to cool down her overheated forehead, Drew's body jerked unnaturally.

"Ugh--"

No matter how beautiful a girl might be, she would never look good while vomiting. Drew's recently eaten steak landed messily on Eric's bed, with some splattering onto him, filling the room with an unpleasant odor.

Eric frowned slightly, but mostly felt pity for the girl who lay there helplessly amid the mess. He quickly pulled off the soiled sheets, cleaned up as best he could, and then found a towel. Gently lifting Drew, he began wiping away the remnants of her sickness.

Feeling the cool cloth against her forehead, Drew gradually returned to her senses and grabbed Eric tightly, mumbling through her shaking breaths, "If you don't help me get some... I'll sue you for assault... you... you know I'm only thirteen... you know the consequences..."

Eric hugged her tightly, "Drew, just hold on. That stuff will only make things worse for you. You have to be strong; you're the girl who was kissed by an alien, remember?"

"I... don't want to be... the lucky girl. I want..." Drew's cold frame pressed against Eric's warm chest instinctively sought comfort, clinging tightly to him, still muttering incoherently.

Eric had no idea how to help someone in the throes of addiction. Although he had encountered many addicts in his past circles, he had never witnessed anything quite like Drew in this state. Realizing that his warmth might offer her some solace, he enveloped her in his arms and gently rubbed her back, hoping to ease her discomfort.

For over an hour, regardless of Drew's thrashing, pleading, threatening, or cursing, Eric kept her securely in his embrace, patiently offering comfort. Finally, he noticed that at some point, she had fallen asleep in his arms. He shifted slightly, feeling stiff from holding the same position for too long.

As he attempted to lay her down, the moment he released her, Drew twisted like a fish out of water, anxiously flailing her limbs as if reaching for something.

Sighing softly, Eric adjusted himself, pulling her back tightly against him. Drew nestled her head against his chest, and soon, her breathing became calm again.

...

Holding the girl close, Eric suddenly thought of his own family in another parallel life. His son was only five, and his wife worked a modest job. Since their marriage, she had devoted herself to being a full-time homemaker. He had been the sole provider, and he wondered how they were faring now, unmoored by his sudden absence. He hoped they were well.

...

Drew dreamt that she had landed another movie role, portraying a lost fairy in a dark forest, wild and confused. Then a prince appeared, rescuing her from her wicked stepmother, the queen of poisoned apples. Together, they fought against the Snow Queen's oppression, and for her sake, the prince turned away Snow White from the dwarfs' forest.

The two celebrated their love in a grand wedding held in a palace built of candy and cake, with the prince carrying Drew into their sumptuous chamber, placing her atop a bed lined with layers of fluffy blankets. Drew smiled blissfully, resting her head on the prince's chest, feeling as happy as a blooming flower.

And then she awakened.

Finding herself nestled in the warm embrace of a man, resting on his arm, she felt his waist snugly held by her hands. After a moment of brief confusion, Drew recalled the events of the previous night, fragmented as they were.

Gazing adoringly at Eric's chiseled face, with his tousled blond hair and the subtle masculine scent he emanated with each breath, stirred something in her.

Everyone believed Drew was God's favorite, a star who rose to fame while still young. But to Drew, happiness had always been elusive. Her father's indifference and her mother's harshness and greed suffocated her, much like a bird trapped in a cage longing for freedom. It had led her down a dark path of expressing her discontent through drinking and drugs. Yet, her mother didn't care; she worried more about how Drew's troubles might hurt her finances from missed film opportunities and unceremoniously shoved her into a merciless rehab

facility.

Every young girl yearned for her prince, right? He had to be sweet, caring, tall, and handsome. He should be talented, kind, and always patient with her whims. When it was hot, he would fan her; when it was cold, embrace her. He would care for her when she fell ill and comfort her in hardships. Even if she sank into hell, he would ride in on a dragon, rescuing her from the clutches of the underworld...

Such a person had indeed appeared, though perhaps not in the way she had envisioned. He might not love her, but in that moment, it hardly mattered.

Drew initially intended to steal Eric from Jennifer Aniston, seeking revenge for the hurtful words she had received that day, only to suddenly realize she had truly fallen for Eric.

...

Perhaps sensing an intense gaze, Eric opened his eyes, meeting Drew's adoring stare. He smiled gently, "Drew, you're awake. Are you hungry? I'll make breakfast; you should

probably take a shower. You look pretty rough right now."

"Hey, Eric, why are you being so nice to me?"

"Hmm?" Eric paused, a bit taken aback, and reached out to ruffle her hair. "Well, we're

friends, right?"

Just as Drew sat up, she unexpectedly grabbed Eric and, like a wild cat in heat, pressed her lips

against his.

"Hey, hey! Drew, your breath smells!" Eric laughed, protesting.

Drew released her hold on his neck, seeming to ignore his protest as if declaring ownership.

"Eric, I love you."

"But I don't love you," he said, freeing himself from her grip and drawing back the curtains to

let the sunlight flood in.

Drew watched Eric's back, puffing out her lips as she stubbornly replied, "You just need to

know that I love you."

"Alright, I got it," Eric said teasingly, pinching her cheek.

"Hey, Eric, I just realized something!"

"Hmm?" "You slept all night with this little beauty in your arms, and there was no reaction down there.

Isn't that a bit strange? I could check for you, for free!"

"You're quite generous, Dr. Barrymore, but let's hurry and take a shower. We're going to be

late."

"Want to wash with me? I could help you scrub your back!"

"No thanks, I'll shower downstairs."

"That's not right, Eric! We should conserve water. Wasting is shameful. Think about those

refugees in Africa dying of thirst!"

"You've got a point. I'll start being more prudent tomorrow; today can be my last splurge."

"Hey, hey..."

One summer day in 1988, a little girl wandering in confusion through darkness stumbled upon

a glimmer of warmth in her life, gripping onto it with unyielding resolve, like a drowning

child clinging to every straw within reach.

*****

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