Turn the Lights Out When You Leave

Memories found themselves flashing through my head all afternoon. It all seemed too good to be true, and I felt terrible for the first time about something I truely wanted. I had a semi-big part in a major motion picture with a-list actors, that was already being muttered to be a hit. I lived practically free making a quite large sum than I thought I deserved and then of course, there was him. Alan. I tried not to get too carried away thinking of how weird it was to be dating someone I've watched on the screens of televisions and in movie theatres. Well, contemplated dating. But I wondered as the taxi slowed to a hault at a red light, what would happen to me if I accepted his offer and Rima re-entered the picture. I knew I wouldn't win his heart, after all, 2 weeks with someone as their mistress was nothing compared to years together. And over 40 years with someone, it's not like it could just be tossed aside so easily.

I looked out the window as we approached my rented, run-down apartment and all I had to be happy about was that my room mate was not going to be in attendance, as I didn't see her broken-down, white car in the designated parking place. I waited with my purse in my lap as the driver pulled to a complete stop.

"42.53." He announced. I didn't realize I lived that far from him to make the price go that steep, but I would've sold my soul just to get out of there. I pulled two twenties and a five out and handed them to him over the seat. "Thank you." He said casually as he began to put them away. I began to scoot out the car door, when he stopped me. "Can I ask you something?" I was hoping silently it didn't have to do anything with the scene back at Alan's house.

"Um, sure." I answered, continuing to sit in the back.

"Are you that girl from that new Brad Pitt movie?" He inquired, seeming to be a little embarrassed at asking. I quickly thought about saying the old John Lennon quip 'No, but I wish I had her money.' But instead, I answered truthfully.

"Actually, I am." I said, offering my hand to him. "Delaney Lindley." I introduced myself proudly at being recognized for the first time. I put my bag strap over my shoulder as he shook my hand firmly.

"Renee Alejandro."

"Nice to meet you." I said, practically following protocol for introductions. "Can I ask you something now, Renee?" He nodded yes. "How did you know who I was?" I asked, completely enveloped in curiousity.

"I read Variety. They did an insider this morning, and they ran a picture of you with some other actors." He quickly rummaged through things on the floorboard. At last, he handed me an issue, already flipped to the page with a synopsis of the movie and a picture of me at the table with everyone else, dry-reading through the script. It made it quite obvious I was staring at Alan, while he paid me no mind. Must've been taken during one of his monologues, I thought. I handed the issue back only to have my offer of return brushed away with his hand. "Keep it." He said.

"Oh wow, thanks." I said greatfully.

"Don't mention it." Renee said. "I know it'll be great." He encouraged. "I'm a big Alan Rickman fan, secretly, so I'll definately be seeing it." I smiled broadly at the name as Renee issued me another question. "Is it as great working with him as I imagine it would be?"

"Well, to be honest," I thought about completely bursting his bubble and saying what balls he had thinking he could have his cake and it, so to speak. But I was honest when it wame to strictly working. "He's incredible. Such depth and emotion. He really fits the part." I said. Renee's deep brown eyes glazed over with admiration. "Anyway, this is me. And I'm flattered that you'll be seeing it. Once again, thank you." I exited the car then turned back around and ducked in to shake his hand a second time. "It was lovely to meet you." I said.

"No, no, pleasure's mine." He grinned. He fumbled for something in his pocket and retrieved a folded piece of paper and handed it to me. "Mr. Rickman wanted me to give this to you when you got here." Without a word, I accepted the paper with a sense of mystery. Once I removed myself from the way of the door and closed it, the cab whirred off and rode up a steep hill. I unfolded the scrap and looked at the blue ink . It scrawled out in cursive, "Please call me - Alan." Along with a phone number. I glanced again at the picture. Staring once again at Alan's face, I noticed though he was staring down atthe script, he had a smug smile on his face. Once I climbed the stairs and unlocked my apartment, I walked quickly to the blinking answering machine. Setting down my purse, I pushed the flashing button. It's mechanical voice formed out the date and added the "You have 3 new messages. 11:04, a.m." It introduced my messages in the chronological order they were recieved.
The first was Melanie- my older flatmate-letting me know she was off on a gig in New Mexico and wouldn't be back until Monday at least. The next was from my mother, father, and my son, wondering how I was. Tyler's voice brought tears to my eyes to hear him. And the third caught my interest hard.

"Hi, Miss Lindley, this is Stephanie Ubriacho from United Entertainment, and I've been authorized to invite you to a Cast and Crew party hosted by Mr. Brad Pitt and his family at 21525 Woodcrest Drive, a banquet hall rented especially for the occasion. Formal wear, please RSVP at 412 355 0821." I dialed in the number once it was finished and picked up the phone to let them know I would be in attendance and to get the other details. The run down was, it would be hosted by Brad Pitt, everyone would be in attendance including a few other a-listers for networking. Problem, it was tomorrow. I'd never heard of a party on a sunday, but things, I guess, tended to move a little faster than Texas. I quickly ran to my room and began sorting through the boxes that remained packed. I moved to the one marked 'closet'. I rummaged through sweaters, t-shirts, jackets, pants, and at last the one thing I searched for: a tight-fitting, black, strapless dress that went down to my ankles and had two random straps that criss-crossed at the back where the dress started just at the middle of my lower back. I thought about wearing it to the premiere, because I only had one, I guess I should've bought one or two more.

The next day, I found myself sleeping in until about noon then I proceeded getting things together when I found myself distracted like I had ADHD. I noticed next to the phone, there were my keys, bag, and a folded piece of paper. I took the paper and sat down on the sofa in the living room with my phone in my hand. I stared at the writing and the more I looked, the letters seemed to move slowly. I ripped my eyes off it and looked at the ceiling and before I knew it, I looked at the clock on the cable box above the television and it read 2:04. I jumped up with a start, there was no way I had sat there thinking about Alan for two hours! This was torturing me enough. I took the paper in both my hands and ripped it firmly down the middle. I would not be the other woman, not now, not ever, not even for him. I went into the bathroom and started filling the bathtub with warm water. I ran to my room and pulled a small bottle of lavendar bath oil and added some to the tub. I looked in the mirror, I looked thinner since I arrived. My stomach growled with hunger. I then realized I hadn't eaten anything since I left Alan's.

I removed my clothes and looked at myself once more in the mirror. I criticized myself, and rubbed my eyes. There was no sense in criticizing myself, it wasn't like I was going to be changing dramatically in the next 5 hours. I lowered myself into the tub, and laid my head against the back edge. I found myself entertaining thoughts about finding someone better at the party who was single, and being able to have a little revenge of my own. I already knew Alan would be there, but rather than scare me for some reason, I found that thought comforting. I would just pay him little to no mind at all when I arrived to the time I left. Then I thought about the script. The little bit of reading I got to do in my spare time last night when the television got too boring, revealed Alan and I had a scene together where my charactor grilled him about seeing if he was really single and what his motives were for his interest in someone so much younger than him. Well, it's not like it was a conversation about me, so I guess it didn't matter that this movie was now starting to reflect life at the moment, which was a little odd. But rather than think that to death as well, I repositioned myself to sideways in the tub with my arm on the side and rested my head on the backside of my hand and closed my eyes.

I saw mouths kissing, eyes looking into each other longingly, silent moans, and I startled myself and sat bolt upright. I had fallen asleep momentarily. I decided I needed to get moving and got out of the tub.

After washing myself off, shaving, and toweling off, I walked around my apartment in a towel gathering things together and seeing how they'd look. I picked out to go with the dress that I would wear some thin, plain silver bracelets on my right arm and some dangly silver earrings that looked like elongated rectangles, and a silver heart necklace. I blow dried my hair and put it into some curlers and blowdried. When I took them out I brushed through my hair carefully and parted my hair to the side and gathered the rest in a 'glamorous' up do I'd learned to do when I went to prom and got my hair done. I swear, if acting wasn't my job I'd be a make up artist. But this time I decided to make my make up a little more daring with deep red outlast, lipstick and by the time I was done, I looked like I was a movie star, but a 1950s movie star. But star nonetheless.

I finished myself off with a light brushing of shimmer powder across my shoulders and collarbone, and put my feet into some black stilettos and a small clutch purse I bought with the dress and put my cigarettes inside. I didn't know a thing about fashion. I just threw things together I liked and this was it. The people putting the party together sent out a complimentary black car to come get me and take me to the party. Once the car pulled up, my phone rang and I picked it up.

"Ms. Lindley?"

"Yes?"

"I'm George C. Reilly from the LimoPros rental company. I just called to let you know I'm waiting outfront of your apartment to take you to the event at 21525 WoodCrest Drive."

"Oh, yes, thank you. I'll be down there in two minutes." I laughed at the thought, a limo in a neighborhood like this. People who saw it must either think the driver's lost or the car must be stolen. I grabbed a bottle of L'air Du Temps and gave myself a quick spray over then just threw it inside my bag. Taking a deep breath I walked down the stairs like Grace Kelly.

When we pulled outfront, honestly I thought about turning to the driver and just telling him "Whew. That was a fun ride, but now that it's done, I'd like to go back home." Because unlike I thought, this was not some private party just for us, someone had tipped off somebody who probably tipped off somebody else. The car I was in sat infront and on one side of the entrance was an entire fleet of people and camera crews, fans, and photographers. Shouts to Brad could already be heard before I was even outside. I checked my make up, took a few quick breaths and got out carefully with a smile on my face. If I tripped, I would've died of embarrassment, but I wanted to walk kind of quickly to get by the people at the risk of making myself look dumb. But I clutched my purse so hard I could feel my knuckles turning white. They started rushing over to me.

"Ms. Lindley! Who designed your dress!" One girl asked, shoving a microphone in my face. Shit.

"Uh, Lane Bryant I think." I sounded retarded and I felt my heart pound in my chest.

"Delaney! A question, please!" I stopped and turned, smiling broadly and posing nonchalently. "What do you think about your co-stars?" A man looked me dead in the eyes. 'Be polite.' I reminded myself silently.

"Um, well, this cast is a dream come true for someone like me. I mean, Brad Pitt and Skeet Ulrich are absolute dolls, and Alan Rickman is simply fantastic. He's really portrayed all his emotions and it's just an honor to work with someone who's so adverse in acting and in my opinnions, is sorely overlooked for his talent."

"May we quote you?" He asked above all the other rambling voices.

"That's why I said it, honey." I answered with a wink at an overweight, camera man. Little trick I listened to Melanie on: Whenever you catch a photographer or camera man's eye, flatter them and they'll give you the best angles. "Well, there's a lot of people in there. I'll see you right after." I waved and proceeded up to the door where a man asked for my invite. Ah, shit. I knew there was something. So, I played the only card I had. "Well, I don't have it. I'm in the movie." The tall, musclular man dismissed me. My face began to get red, this is one time I didn't need embarrassment. I opened my mouth wide to tell him off when suddenly Skeet Ulrich appeared behind the man and told him who I was and escorted me inside.

"New arrivals in Hollywood aren't that recognizable yet." He reminded me.

"I know, I just forogt in my rush to get ready. I had a lot to do." I said, meekly. I hadn't said a single word to him since we started working together. I looked at his suit.

"Haha. Tell me about it, if I get mistaken for Johnny Depp one more time..." He left it to my imagination to finish the thought. "You drink champagne?" He suddenly asked. I exchanged my purse to my empty hand.

"Sure." I answered.

"Great. Be right back." He answered and squeezed my forearm and smiled at me. Wow. He did look like Johnny Depp. As soon as he left, I scowered the crowd. Beautiful, thin, people everywhere. In Hollywood, they were not in short supply. I looked at the people sitting at the tables, some holding hands, others laughing. I looked around for my cast mates. I saw Brad with Angelina, sitting at a table talking with some guests. I searched around for the dear Ava and once I found her, I wasn't shocked. She was turned with half her back turned to me as she shared a laugh with some men gathered around her, including our director, Gary. All the men looked dashing in their suits, while the ladies looked beautiful in their dresses, which I'm certain were made especially for them by high priced designers. I looked around for Alan but didn't see him. Maybe he had had the same thoughts I did and he couldn't bring himself to look at me, so decided not to show up. Skeet came back with two glasses of yellow, bubbling liquid and offered one to me. I took it by the stem of the glass and uttered a thank you and took a quick sip. The brink tasted bitter and brought back memories of a prior night I was determined not to think about. I couldn't even bring myself to eat, being so nervous that I'd be judged. Skeet and I spoke for a while about things he'd been doing since I saw him in Scream in the 90s. Then he excused himself, telling me his agent needed to speak to him and how he was probably trying to steal money from him.

I stood alone wondering what the hell I was doing here. I was ordinarily a social butterfly, but back home it'd have to be a party or a kegger to be comfortable. This was entirely new territory. When I was deciding whether to just thank Brad for the wonderful party and duck out or just stay, someone approached me from behind and spoke into my ears. His smooth british accent gave him away though.

"O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night, like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear; beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, as yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand, and, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand. Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight..." I turned around and tried to hide a smile, curling up my lips and blush rising up in my cheeks as I felt a warm hand grab mine. Alan walked before me and took my hand to his lips and spoke the last line. "For I never saw true beauty- till this night." Once the last word was spoken he kissed my hand, and suddenly I felt I could overlook everything he'd done to me. Almost. Once he let my hand go, I crossed my arm holding my champagne over it.

"Haven't you had enough?" I asked. I looked at his suit and took this new vision of him in.

"Not till I'm dead." He said with a laugh. He stopped laughing and smiled with his head cocked to the side. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you, but I've heard that line before." I mentioned. He sighed.

"That wasn't a line, it was the truth." He responded.

"I've heard that one, too." I mentioned over my shoulder and began to approach Brad and Angelina's table. I couldn't believe I was standing so close to her. She was in the same position a few years ago, and it worked great for her being the other woman. More than I could say for me. She'd been listed as the beautifulest woman in the world, also. They looked at me expectantly.

"Hello, Mr. Pitt." I nodded in Angelina's direction. "Mrs. Jolie." I shook their hands and introduced myself formally and thanked them for a splendid party and once it was over and done with, I wondered back to my position as wallflower, and decided to stay a few more moments making small talk to people before booking it. Alan walked up and stood beside me.

"Told you he was fool of himself." He said and looked down at me by his side. I didn't laugh till he nudged me with his shoulder.

"Don't make me laugh." I said and hit him, gently. "We're not friends."

"Oh you're right." Alan said thinking aloud. "More than friends, yet, less than lovers. Where are we at then?" He looked at me, eyebrows furrowed. I took a moment to take in his blonde hair.

"I don't know, somewhere between mistake and regret." I put my champagne down on a nearby table. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to the bathroom." He followed me like a persistent dog at my heels. Once we entered a small hall way that the bathrooms were joined at, Alan talked in a different tone of voice.

"You know, I'm sick of these games. But I won't quit playing till I win, because it's you. Tell me you really regret it. Tell me you don't miss how it felt, when we were together. When I brought you close to me, when you touched me back. When I felt your heart beat beneath my hands, and when I rested on you." He pushed me against the wall with his hands above my head on either side, and I felt his breath and smelled the alchohol on it. "Tell me, it was a mistake." He quickly brought his face to mine and kissed me. I turned my head away and broke the kiss.

"You're drunk, Alan." I said, and waited for his response only to hear silence. "Leave me alone." I said and threw his hand out of the way and began walking out of the hall, and back to public view where John Cale was playing the piano and singing some soft music. Just as he started with Hallelujah, I was grabbing my clutch purse and making my way to the exit, Alan still behind me.

"Delaney, just wait a minute!" He ordered. I stopped and turned to him. "Give me one day. One day to be with just you and me. Alone. And after that one day together, if you still tell me, honestly that you feel nothing..." He swallowed hard. "I'll let you go." I sighed.

"I don't have a choice do I?" I asked. He shook his head no and smiled. "Alright. One entire day. After all, it's not often you meet someone that quotes Shakespeare so flawlessly." Alan hearing my acceptance, must've been overwhelmed with joy, because once I gave him my answer, he grabbed me and wrapped me in both his arms and kissed me passionately, and I let go of all the hate I had stored for this man, and kissed back. At that moment we were the only ones in the universe.

But that was the problem, we were wrong and everyone saw us.