Back To You ?River Phoenix?

??Chapter 9??

My converse hit the cracked gray sidewalk as I walked to nowhere in particular, because I was now clear in the agent industry. I had just phoned my uncle, and sure enough— he knew exactly who Gus was. He was ecstatic about the fact that I had landed someone so big in his business.

But there was another burden on my shoulders now, one much heavier than the stress of upholding one's ability to find work.

River Jude Phoenix.

I could not stop thinking about him.

Wondering where he and Martha were. Wondering why he was with Martha instead of me. Wondering why he wasn't walking with me then, arm slung around my shoulders, recalling memories of him and his agent, Iris. Wondering why he didn't like me the same way I liked him...

Nicole must have been right about me having a crush. How else was I going to explain the butterflies when we met eyes? The way my skin felt after the smallest of touches? My craving for those touches once they were gone?

It had to be some stupid little crush.

I shrugged it off, forcing myself not to think about the blonde-haired boy for too long, because the more I thought about him and Martha, the more my heart began to hurt.

Finally, I decided to get another deep dish pizza.

But this time, I ate the cheese.

•••

That night was quite windy. My hair was being pulled around, whipped and twisted out of it's braided form. As my feet hit the concrete I tripped once or twice when my ankle would bend a little or I would be too busy wondering about River to pay attention to anything.

I got back to the hotel room, full of food and looking like a wild wreck. Before anyone could notice that I was back, I slipped into the bathroom and slicked back my hair with some water.

No one was there. Not a solitary soul. I sighed, feeling strangely disappointed. Although this certainly beat sitting at home with my abusive mother, being completely alone for a month in Chicago didn't seem like a grand hoorah either.

Of course, there were kids in the world who were never going to visit Chicago, and I was sitting here complaining about my host hanging out with his girlfriend instead of me.

I sure did sound like a bitch.

Letting that sink in, I curled up under my blanket on the couch and finally fell asleep.

•••

The sound of a knock on the door startled me awake. Groggily, I stood up, wondering why River wasn't up yet. I Pushed my hair back and smoothed down my shorts, walking to get the door.

A freshly dressed staff member stood there.

"A caller for Miss Carlton in the lobby." He stated in a thick southern accent, and turned on his heel to walk away.

I didn't care that I was stumbling into the lobby of a hotel in gray shorts and an oversized t-shirt, with my crazed hair going everywhere. Not to mention, I was barefoot.

"Who's it?" I muttered into the phone, not thrilled to see that the sun was just now coming up.

"It's me, Gus. You won't believe this, but I squeezed you into some auditions here tomorrow."

"What? Gus? The hell'd you do that for?"

"A successful career cannot wait. I'll pick you up around six, 'kay?"

"a.m?"

"Yes, what did you think?"

I sighed, tapping my foot against the ground anxiously. "Thanks, I guess."

"No problem. Be prepared!"

When he hung up, I sighed. The attendant came up to me, and asked if I'd like to get breakfast from the hotel. I didn't want any, but I was almost positive that River and Martha would.

I got a fruit tray and a good amount of whole wheat toast, because I didn't know if Martha was a vegan or not. I didn't want to bring any animal products up there though, because River would flip out.

I got up to the hotel and put on a tank top and high-waisted denim jeans. Then I slipped on my gray sweater, then pulling my curls into a ponytail.

There was nothing to do except for read IT and nibble on a piece of the toast.

"Morning Lyd." I hear a scratchy voice murmur.

River walks in, running a hand through his hair, which is longer now, for the film. He often came back with it in an odd poof, kind of like the stylist was trying to mimic the 60's but they failed miserably. I would have to ask him about that.

"I got breakfast."

"Thanks. I'll eat later— when Martha wakes up." He smiled, making his way over to the couch and plopping down on the opposite end. Did he have to remind me of her?

"How's filming?" I ask nonchalantly, not looking up from the book.

"Can I tell you the truth?"

I closed the thick novel and looked up to meet his gaze. "Yeah, hit me with your best shot."

"It's... not the best. I'm not liking this role too much."

"Why is that?"

"My character..." He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He seemed to do that a lot. "he's a dick. Not a likable guy. You'll have to read the script."

"Yeah, totally. You still using it?"

"Sometimes. Dyslexia makes it hard to memorize lines." He laughs. I raised my eyebrows. "Also, the other characters say some odd stuff— I have a lot of young fans and I wouldn't want them to hear the lot of it."

"Yeah. Isn't the movie gonna be like, R or something?"

"Mhm. I get pretty intimate with a few girls." River sighed, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

I inhale deeply. Great.

"And your hair... is it just that windy out there?"

He laughs, running a hand through it. "The film is set in the sixties."

"Oh, Okay."

He leaned against the couch's arm, fumbling with the sleeves of the his white sweater. I pretended to look down at my book, but I was secretly admiring the way the sunlight hit his face.

His face was knitted into a troubled expression. I rested the Stephen King book on my lap, exhaling through my nose.

"Something else is up."

He does a little half-pout thing that makes my stomach flip, and looks up at me. "I dunno. I'm hating this film. I hate it a lot. I hate my character, and I hate his habits, and I hate the plot and I hate the set. I hate it all! And you know what makes it worse?"

Please don't say that it's me, please don't say that it's me, please don't-

"I begged- I basically forced you to come along, and when Martha shows up, I basically ignore you!"

"Don't do that to yourself River. I needed some time to branch off. I got an agent."

"Woah, that was fast." He laughs.

"I know. His name's Gus. Gus Brownings. And he's already scored me an audition- for tonight."

"Jesus, Lyd. You're never gonna have time off at this rate."

"I know, I'm kind of stoked though."

"It'll be epic."

"I know."