February 2007, Los Angeles
"I hate you," I said from the backseat of my limo—this time driven by one of my personal security guard/chauffeur.
Scarlett's grin widened before she hugged me. "No, you don't."
I couldn't deny it. Scarlett was so adorable, I couldn't hate her even in my dreams. But there was one guy I could hate.
I pulled away from her and turned to face her accomplice in this terrible prank—who, up until that moment, had a smile on his face. As soon as our eyes met, the smile vanished.
"Don't blame Ryan," Scarlett defended him before I could even say a word. "He didn't even know about the plan until you left to call your security. Blame me. It was my plan."
I turned back to her. "And how did you go about it?"
She grinned. "I was in talks with Paramount about promoting our movie in the coming months, and someone suggested I prank you—it could help during the promotions. Since Paramount owns MTV, I thought it was perfect. So I called Ashton and set the whole thing up."
I nodded slowly. "And how did you get my security not to follow us?"
It hadn't occurred to me in the moment, but my security team was supposed to follow us discreetly. If I were actually getting arrested, there was no way they wouldn't have stepped in.
"That was tricky," Scarlett confessed. "Evan helped me out there. Your head of security was really stubborn and almost told you. That is, until Evan called your dad and asked them to back off. Apparently, your dad thought it would help you loosen up a bit after the week you've had."
I sighed. "Is there anyone who didn't know about this prank?"
"Leo didn't," Scarlett said immediately. "He genuinely invited you to his party. When you invited Evan to come along, he passed it on to me. Originally, I was going to invite you to a different party, but I intercepted Leo just in time and told him you and I would come together. He agreed and gave me the details before heading out early."
"You are very devious," I said with narrowed eyes—then a grin spread across my lips. "Be ready for my retaliation."
"What retaliation?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"That's the best part," I grinned. "You'll never know when it'll hit you. Could be tomorrow, next year, a decade later. I won't forget this easily." Then I turned to the other man beside me. "The same applies to you too, Gosling."
Ryan raised his hands in surrender. "Dude, I was just following the script she gave me."
"And you just had to go all method?" Scarlett said with amusement. "The way you were resisting arrest…" She shook her head. "Someone give this guy an Oscar already."
I couldn't help but laugh. The biggest reason I bought into it was Ryan's rageful reaction to the fake fan. It was so genuine that I thought it was all real.
"I don't do things halfway," Ryan said cockily, then asked, "By the way, where are we going right now?"
"Four Seasons Hotel," I replied. "I'm too spent for a party. I've booked the entire floor for privacy, so you can take one of the other rooms if you want. Or take my driver back to your place. Your call."
Ryan's eyes widened when I mentioned that. I knew it was a little wasteful, but so many people try to cozy up to me when I'm in hotels that it gets exhausting. When I want peace, this is what I do—and it works perfectly. My entourage, including my assistants, security teams, and stylists/dressers, take the unoccupied rooms. It keeps them happy and keeps me away from fanatics for a while.
I would've preferred staying at my parents' place, but it was their anniversary this week, and Dad wanted to make it special for Mum. I knew they wanted some quality time together, so Evan and I had volunteered to stay at the hotel.
"I can't tonight," Ryan shook his head. "My Mom has a flight back tomorrow morning so I'll have to drop her to the airport. What about you, Scarlett?" Ryan asked.
"I'll take up on Troy's generous offer," Scarlett said, raking a finger up my arm. "My place is so far away, and I won't mind getting a bit pampered with everything the Four Seasons has to offer."
Ryan gave me another disbelieving look. "You booked an entire floor at the Four Seasons?"
I shrugged. "It wasn't that expensive."
At least, not for me. It cost around $60k per night, including tips for the waiting staff, which was literally a drop in the ocean. I could've rented the place for a decade and still remained a billionaire.
Ryan didn't look entirely convinced, but thankfully, he changed the topic. "Wouldn't it be rude not to go to that party when DiCaprio invited you personally?"
I pointed at Scarlett. "I have the perfect scapegoat here. She never told me where the party actually is."
Scarlett just laughed and shook her head. "I don't even care about it. Tell Leo whatever you want. I barely know him."
Then she looked up at me and asked, "You won't stop the episode from airing, will you?"
"Of course not," I said immediately. "My publicist has been bugging me to do something fun publicly. Apparently, it'll humanize me. I'll pre-approve the footage to make sure it's clean, but other than that, I won't stop the broadcast."
We kept bantering all the way to the hotel, and soon enough, we arrived. Scarlett and I got out, while Ryan took the same car back to his place.
When we reached the sixteenth floor, the topmost in the hotel, I couldn't help but admire the LA skyline it offered. The corridor wall was entirely made of glass, which gave an unobstructed view. That's a benefit of getting the top floor.
"You can take this room, Scar," I said, pointing at one of the free penthouse suites. "Call room service if you need anything—and it goes without saying, order whatever you want."
I was about to turn around and head to my presidential suite when Scarlett held my hand.
I looked over, curious, at the woman holding onto me like her life depended on it. Seeing her standing there in that beautiful low-cut dress, curly blonde hair, and a hesitant smile she was nervously chewing at with her teeth—I realized what a fool I was.
There was this beautiful girl standing right in front of me, and I was letting her stay in a different room?
"I was thinking," she began slowly, "if you're not going to bed right now, maybe we could hang out together?"
"We can hang out," I said with a grin. "But you should know I'm not looking for a relationship."
Scarlett raised an eyebrow innocently. "What does that have to do with hanging out?"
Fair point. So I tightened my grip on her hand and pulled her along. "Come on, then. I'll show you my presidential suite."
(Break)
[NSFW part censored.]
"Oh my fucking God," Scarlett moaned beside me. "I hadn't realized how much I needed that."
I chuckled and planted a kiss on her cheek. "You're cute."
Then I got up from the bed and walked over to where my clothes were scattered haphazardly across the floor. I could feel Scarlett's gaze locked on my ass, so I turned around and gave her a full view of my "little brother" too.
"I still can't believe that thing fit inside me," she murmured in amazement.
I gave her a skeptical look as I pulled on my black boxer briefs. "Is it really that big? My ex never had a problem with it. But after her, you're the second girl to point it out."
Scarlett gave me a disbelieving stare. "How can you not know? Didn't you ever see other guys in gym class or something?"
"Umm, no?" I half-asked. "I never went to school after hitting puberty. So how would I know? I've seen my brother and a few friends on vacation once, but never like this." I grabbed my semi-erect dick to make my point.
"Believe me, you are," Scarlett said emphatically, propping herself up on her elbows. The sheet slid down to her waist, giving me an unobstructed view of her more-than-ample breasts. I didn't care if she was naturally this busty or had work done—either way, the view was more than enticing enough for me.
"Where are you going?" she asked in a sultry voice, trailing a finger along her right breast and circling her pink nipple slowly. Then the finger trailed down her slim waist and disappeared beneath the sheets. It didn't take a genius to guess where it ended up.
I was tempted to strip off again and crawl back under the sheets, but somehow, I held back.
"You are insatiable," I joked. "We've already gone six rounds through the night and this morning. Any more and you'll end up with a UTI or something. Plus, it's my parents' anniversary today. Evan and I were planning a little surprise for them."
"That's nice," Scarlett said, tossing the sheet aside and stepping out of bed. Her natural form—completely bereft of hair below the eyebrows—was a very alluring sight. Her slender waist, round breasts, and shapely hips moved in perfect rhythm with each step, testing my restraint to its limit.
Finally, she stopped less than a foot away from me. "Are you sure that surprise would be as nice as this?" she asked, taking my hand and guiding it to her soft pink lips—not the ones on her face. Then her hand went forward and grabbed my rapidly hardening member once again.
I closed my eyes. Ah, fuck it. The surprise could wait another half an hour, couldn't it?
Without saying a word, I bridged the gap between us and kissed her full on the upper lips while my hands explored the lower ones. After about a minute, I pulled back and said, "Just one more time. Let's make it quick, okay?"
(Break)
March 2007, London
"Action!"
I punched the boxing bag hard. Then again. And again. I kept going a few more times, each blow echoing through the set. I wasn't wearing a shirt, so my entire torso was glistening, top to bottom—showing off the hard work I'd put in for this role. It wasn't real sweat, just water sprayed on by the makeup team to make it look like I'd been grinding through an intense workout.
The results of the last few month were clearly visible. I'd gained muscle mass fast. Losing weight quickly had always felt worse for my long-term health than putting it back on, so I didn't mind the bulk. Before this, I trained for strength, never size. But this time, I focused on both. And honestly? I loved the results.
After one final punch, I stopped when a prison guard appeared at the door.
"Get dressed and come with me," he said.
I picked up a tank top from the floor behind me and threw it on before following him out. We were shooting in a real-life abandoned prison, so there was no need for elaborate sets—we could film straight out of the old cells.
The guard led me to a common bathroom, where a naked man lay beaten and bloody on the ground. For a moment, I just stood there, locking eyes with him.
"What the fuck, man? This guy burned your ass. It's your turn. Have your revenge." The prison's godfather nodded silently toward the man.
I started breathing heavily. Anger built inside me and finally spilled over. I stepped forward and kicked him in the chest. Or rather, I motioned to. My shoe never even touched him. But the man shrank back all the same, as if I had kicked him very hard.
He already looked battered enough. I didn't need to add to it. So I turned away.
"Yeah, that's right. Walk away, you bitch," the bloody man spat from the floor.
I stopped mid-stride and closed my eyes for a moment. Then I spun around and kicked him hard in the midsection. Once wasn't enough. I kicked him again, and again—his face, chest, waist. Finally, I bent down, grabbed him by the neck, and punched him in the head several times.
"Alright, that's enough! Don't kill him!" A fellow prisoner stepped in and pulled me back by the shoulders as I thrashed in his grip, still trying to get a few more hits in.
"Cut!"
Instantly, I stopped and calmed down.
"Hey, you okay, man?" I asked the guy on the ground, who sat up soon after.
"Yeah," David—the actor—replied with a grin, unfazed despite being naked on set. He was covered in fake blood, so he couldn't even wear a robe between takes, or the makeup team would've had to start over each time. The only thing covered on him was the crotch area to save his modesty.
"Man, what 'roids are you on?" he asked curiously. "You bulked up like crazy in just a month."
I shook my head. "No steroids. I'm all natural."
"Bullshit," he said, shaking his head. "I don't believe you."
"Then don't," I shrugged. "I know my truth."
I really hadn't taken any steroids. I naturally had a high metabolism, which helped me lose or gain weight fast. When I first started training, someone did offer me steroids to speed things up, but I turned them down. I knew the long-term side effects, and my health wasn't something I was willing to gamble with.
"That was great, people!" Stephen Daldry called out. "We are done shooting this episode!"
As David got dressed and the crew applauded, I felt ecstatic. We'd be wrapping the whole show in about ten days. But more importantly, my second album, 2006, was dropping tomorrow. Up to now, I had only released one official single from it—"That's Hilarious." Tomorrow, a second single would go live along with the full album. Unlike the first, this one wasn't sad or angry. It was upbeat and fun. I made sure to include a few happier songs on the album, otherwise it would've ended up feeling too heavy.
Seeing the crew in high spirits gave me an idea.
I scanned the room for Benji, and once I caught his eye, I motioned him over.
"Bring me my guitar and laptop from the trailer," I said quickly. "And ask the guys here to hook it up to the sound system."
Benji looked puzzled.
"I'll explain later," I added. "Just do it for now. Quick."
He ran off while someone from wardrobe handed me a clean shirt. I could've gone back to the trailer to change, but I didn't want to waste time. I threw it on right there and turned to address the crew.
"Hey, guys!" I called out. "I know you're all ready to go home—me too, honestly—but before we head out, I wanted to share something with you."
They quieted down, curious.
"My album drops worldwide tomorrow. And I want you to be the first to hear one of the tracks. It's not the single coming out tomorrow, but it's one of my favorites. So if you've got a minute, stick around."
Excited murmurs spread through the room, and no one left.
Soon enough, Benji came back with the guitar. "Laptop's hooked up to the system," he said.
"Thanks." I took the guitar and walked over to the laptop. I queued up the track and strummed along as the music filled the space.
[We Are Young: Fun]
~Give me a second, I
I need to get my story straight
My friends are in the bathroom getting higher than the Empire State
My lover, she's waiting for me just across the bar
My seat's been taken by some sunglasses asking 'bout a scar and~
The crew started vibing instantly, swaying to the beat and grinning as the lyrics played.
~Tonight
We are young
So let's set the world on fire
We can burn brighter than the sun~
As I sang the chorus, I saw the happy and excited faces all around. A wave of optimism washed over me. I had a feeling that this album would be even bigger than the first one.
_________________
AN: I don't think this story needs detailed sex scenes. I have already given enough in this chapter to help you connect the dots. That's why I'm not including it here, because this story is not about the smut.
Some of the guys on the P site were very insistent, so I have written one. You can check it out there if you want to. I won't be posting it here.