Nine years had passed since my first date with Christine. I had chosen my acting roles carefully and it had paid off. I was an A-list movie star, with three box office smashers!
But with great success, comes great pressure with little relief. I had everything I wanted out of life; two beautiful daughters, the love of my life Christine, fame and fortune.
But yet I felt like I still wanted more... Mankind, eh?
Spending large quantities of time away from my family was starting to get to me; my girls were starting to get older and I felt like I wasn't there for them, a bit like my parents weren't there for me and that bothered me. I was on movie sets for most of the year and that involved travelling to different locations; some exotic, some in the studio. Christine didn't want to keep moving around to suit me and she was right, I suppose. Moving the girls at that age isn't good; they don't get a chance to bond with friends and find their own routine.
Christine wanted me to follow my dream, she was all for that and she respected that I couldn't just give that up; she wasn't in our marriage for the fortune and fame, she was in it because she loved and believed in me.
It's not as if I could even give my job up. It's not up to me to decide; the public call the shots, if they like you, you're in, if they don't... Well, you're on your own.
After a long day on the set, all I wanted to do was kick back with my best friend; just us two in our hotel room - me and a good old bottle of bourbon. But I had no chance of being alone. That evening I had been invited to a party and I had to show my face, just out of decency, after all it was Mr Baldwin's party.
As I rang the door bell of the Beverly Hills mansion, I was greeted by a butler who took my coat. He guided me into an energetic room that was filled with over a hundred people. Each person was elegantly and individually dressed; some of them I knew and some of them I did not.
Not wanting to be there, I sat at the bar and ordered a double on the rocks and knocked it back like it was water. The bartender raised an eyebrow and asked me if I wanted a refill. I laughed at him and asked for the bottle, he sneered in return and replied that he wasn't authorized to do that. I put myself in his shoes and knew he was thinking that I was a cunt; that's what I would have thought nine years ago.
People were introducing themselves to me and talking about films they had lined up. I may have come across a bit rude, but I told them to talk to my agent. I was there to show my face and try to have a good time; that was all, not to listen to some pitches.
Then I heard an all too familiar voice at the bar.
"So, you're not going to even come and say hello. Is that right, Donnie?" I turned to face Mr Baldwin, reaching his hand out. I was always happy to see Mr Christopher Baldwin, I owed him everything.
"You're looking well, Mr Baldwin, how are you?"
"Very well, Donnie, you look like shit! They working you too hard over at NGN studios? And how many more times do I have to tell ya? Call me Jim." He said in jest.
"Ha, something like that Jim." Mr Baldwin was right; I was feeling older then my age, but the Botox helps with that.
"Well Donnie, I would like to talk to you properly before the night is out. I'm sitting over there." He pointed to a dimly lit corner table; I was surprised to see an all too familiar face sitting there; his assistant, Claire.
"Sure, I'll be over in a bit." I replied. He nodded and mingled with the crowd, before returning to his table.
About an hour and seven double bourbons had passed since my conversation with Mr Baldwin. I decided it was now or never to talk to him, as I was already starting to feel a little intoxicated. I tipped the waiter a hundred - I bet he didn't think I was as much of a cunt then - and made an effort to walk casually towards the table. I found it rather challenging, as my legs were feeling a tad heavy.
I was greeted by smiles. Mr Baldwin asked me to sit, so I sat down next to Claire.
After we caught up on old times and industry gossip - who's making how much and the usual bullshit people talk about - he changed the subject to business.
"So Don, I've got a role coming up and I think it would suit you. I wanna give you first dibs; I respect you, you're a hard worker and we've always worked well together. You know that." Mr Baldwin was a shrewd character, he wanted me for one reason only; hard, dirty, green cash.
I took a few moments to collect my thoughts from a semi conscious mind and replied.
"Ok, Mr Baldwin, here's the thing. I'm pretty booked up for the next year. I'm working on two films at the minute, so I haven't got any free time; hell, I hardly have time to see my family... But, I'll tell you what, you send me the script, I'll look through it and if you can hold on till next year, I'll do it then." I knew fully well that he wouldn't be able to wait till next year, but that was the best excuse I could come up with. Mr Baldwin was a genius at what he did, but he had started to slip over the years. Rumours had it, it was drugs. In my opinion, his heart just wasn't in it anymore - his heart was in something deeper than he could fill his pockets with, the vicious green dead guys.
Mr Baldwin put down his thick cigar and said, "Oh, that's a shame Don."
I caught Claire, glaring at me from the corner of my eye. She looked seductively sweet in that skimpy, tight red dress, showing off plenty of cleavage. Her hair was done in a bun and she was still wearing that same cherry red lipstick. She was the Devil incarnate, I thought.
"How are you, Claire?" I said, turning my focus to her.
"Fantastic! Well, I will be after the night is over! You?" Claire asked, with an over enthusiastic smile on her face; I read nothing further into it.
"Tired, but alive... Working hard, missing my family." She looked to the left when I mentioned family; she was disinterested or maybe it was guilt on her face, I will never know. After a few moments she turned her gaze back to me, with that seductive, crafty, little smile on her face again. She lit a slim looking cigarette, inhaled and replied, "I'm glad," without making eye contact with me.
"Well, excuse me ladies and gentlemen, I should go and ahem, mingle. Great talking to you Don." Mr Baldwin said and stood up. He shook my hand and walked off into the crowd. The bastard had left me with this woman and I'm sure he was laughing about it. Claire was probably his bit on the side.
We sat in awkward silence for several minutes. Whilst I had been sitting there I had knocked back at least three more doubles.
Claire shuffled closer to me, her bare leg was pressing against mine. It felt uncomfortable, but stupidly I pretended I hadn't noticed.
"So Donnie, how much do you think you're worth these days?"
"I wouldn't know... And I don't care much." I expressed the lack of care with a shrug of the shoulders.
She raised an eyebrow and placed her hand on my crotch.
"I care," she said, squeezing tighter.
I could see her staring at me; it was as if she was piercing a burning hole into my soul. I was shocked at was she was doing, so shocked it took me a few moments to process what was happening. When I came to my senses, through the drunken haze, I removed her hand as quickly as possible.
I got up and ran to one of the many bathrooms, where I splashed my face with water, trying to wake myself up. I was drunk, really drunk.
I looked into the mirror, trying to make proper sense of what had just happened. Women come onto me all the time. I'm not trying to sound big-headed, but being famous, it was bound to happen. The difference is, over all of those years I had never let any other woman get close; I had always kept my distance. I had the woman of my dreams; my childhood sweetheart Christine and she was enough for me. The only woman I have ever, painfully loved.
The bathroom door opened and Claire walked in. My heart was racing and I was shit scared; scared that I'd give into that beast, temptation.
"Donnie, what's wrong? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that it's just..." She walked over to me and put her hand on my face. I could smell the same expensive, sweet perfume on her wrist that she wore on the day of my big audition. Cla
ire looked me straight in the eyes. For a second, she looked like Christine, I swear it.
"There's always been chemistry between us, you can't deny that... No matter how hard you try, you can't deny it... Embrace the desire Donnie, I know you want me, I want you." She placed a soft finger on my bottom lip.
I leant forward and kissed her passionately. I caressed the back of her neck with the one hand and the other placed on her soft, sweet buttock.
Claire pushed me to the floor, smiling down at me, like an angel from above. Somewhat ironically, the bathroom light above her head gave her the false impression of a halo. I looked up at her, wanting her, my head spinning from the mix of alcohol and adrenaline that was racing through my blood stream.
It happened again as she stood over me, she looked like Christine! I felt confused, but then it really hit home what I was doing. I was wrecking something special... Things would never be the same.
"I'm sorry Claire, I can't do this. I shouldn't have kissed you. Please, please let's keep this between us two, it was a mistake!" I ran out of the toilet and didn't stop running until I got back to the hotel. It was raining outside. I must have run for miles; I ran past people walking in the street in their own little worlds and under the protection of their umbrellas. They turned their heads and they must have recognised who I was, either that or they were scared because only mad men run in the pouring rain.
By the time I had gotten to the hotel room I had sobered up a little; the guilt and anxiety had kicked in at full throttle. I didn't want to feel the way I did; my heart pounded from the anxiety. I was shaking all over at the thought of what I had done; my mind racing with worst case scenarios. My mind on Christine, the kids; I had to make the demons go away somehow... I opened up the mini-bar. It was time to have my own little party, just me, the mini-bar and self pity.
I cried for the first time that night since I had been in school. I felt ashamed, but sometimes it's ok to cry. I've found out that sometimes you just need a release from the hardships of life. I fell asleep hours later, drunk as a skunk.
Repercussions
I woke up in the early afternoon; the phone was ringing, my head was thumping and my mouth was drier than sandpaper. I could taste stale blood. The room was spinning and the guilt was niggling its way back in.
The door banged; I slid out of bed trying to gain a little bit of focus. I checked myself out in the mirror; my eyes were puffy and looked like piss holes in the snow. The door banged again, "Ok, ok, I'm coming! Just give me a few minutes, jeez!" I put on a t-shirt and put on some pants; the door banged again, this time more furiously.
"For fuc.." I said, as I opened the door. It was my agent Jerry. He slapped a newspaper down in my hand. Jerry didn't even take the time to walk in the room.
"Read it." He said with disgust.
I flipped it over and was shocked by the front page news.
There was a blown up picture of me from the previous night's party and it wasn't pretty. In the picture, Claire was grabbing my crotch in plain view, there was a two-page story on pages four and five and there, there were two more photos of me; one where I went in for that unforgettable kiss and another where she was ready to leap on top of me.
"I'm finished with you, Donnie. You may have tarnished your reputation... But I won't let you tarnish mine. The public will hate this."
"I like you Donnie, I always have, but business is business, I'm sorry." Jerry explained. I bet my face was a picture, what a disastrous mess I'd gotten myself into. My world was about to tumble down and it was nobody's fault but mine. How could I have been so stupid?
I closed the door and anticipated my next move. By now Christine would have seen the article or heard about it from one of our friends. I sat there thinking. What was I going to do?
I must have been pacing the room for at least forty five minutes.
I called down to reception and ordered more drinks in and boy did it take that bitter edge off - the feeling of being kicked full pelt in the balls... Well for the time being anyway.
The god damn phone had been ringing all day. I knew it was Christine on the other end, but I hadn't plucked up enough courage to answer the thing; no matter how much liquor I had in me.
I put it off for a few more hours, but I eventually couldn't put it off any longer, I had to pick up.
"You bastard!" Christine screamed down the phone at me.
"Christine, please... Let me explain!"
"You don't need to explain anything to me, Donnie. I know perfectly well what's happened. You... You slept with that slut!" She started crying down the phone. I could hear the anger and disappointment in her voice; her being heartbroken with me brought tears to my eyes. I bit down hard on my knuckles, out of anger with myself. I bit them until they bled.
"You've broken my heart, Donald Portago, you bastard. You've broken my heart..." She said.
"Chris, I love you. I didn't sleep with her, you have to believe me! I wouldn't do that to you and the kids!" I pleaded my argument down the phone to no avail.
"I wish I could. The truth is, I don't believe you, you haven't been the same for a long time now Donnie. You drink all the time, you're never home. You've gone cold." She had stopped crying, the strength in her was starting to rise above the sadness I had caused.
"I'm taking the kids, the house and we're getting a divorce!" She shouted.
"Chris, please, let's talk about this!" It was too late. She had put the phone down. I tried to call back, but she must have taken the phone off the hook.
To say I replaced the receiver would be an understatement; I smashed the fuck out of it.
I sat down on the bed, regaining my wits and poured myself a large drink.
Closure
Christine wasn't lying when she said she was taking the house and kids. She also took half of my money. I didn't want to be dragged through the courts, nevertheless, she did. I didn't even try to put up a good fight by employing the most expensive and serpent-like lawyers known to man.
She got pretty much everything she asked for, even my last remaining bit of dignity.
But, it didn't matter. I loved her and still do love her. I tried to fight for my marriage in every way possible. I tried to prove how much I loved her by apologising; sending love letters, God, I even sent her flowers! Alas, there was nothing I could do. I couldn't get her back in my life. She moved on eventually but I just couldn't, I couldn't let go of her.
I became bitter and angry, drinking all day, every day. The only happiness I found was in a bottle or two of bourbon. As for the acting career, I was only offered small parts after that; nobody wanted to touch me. "Bad news," they'd say about me. Fuck 'em, I'd say.
As for Claire, she made success out of my misery. Her poisonous face was everywhere; in magazines, papers, even fucking films! That cold bitch took my life, everything I had worked for; my kids, my beautiful wife, my career; all the things that had ever mattered.
But I wasn't gonna go without a bang. I wasn't going to lie down like an injured dog and lick my wounds...
Claire may be famous now, but I still had many connections and favours owed. I received information where Claire was going to be that night and so I waited patiently in my car for her to show up. I was drunk, but not drunk enough to fuck up. I followed Claire in my car till we got out into the countryside. I waited until the road was straight for miles and made sure there were no headlights in view. I sped up and pulled up beside her; I looked into the car, grinning at Claire. She looked back in dismay with dazed eyes; like a deer caught in headlights, until I rammed her sorry ass off the road.
When she came to she was in the boot of my car. I could hear her screaming over the sound of the engine.
"Ha-ha, how does it feel now then, you bitch?!" I shouted back to her.
She stopped screaming. "Donnie. Let me out, please! Please Donnie, let me out!" She pleaded.
"I'm sorry Claire, but I won't be doing that... I hope you believe in God bitch, cause we're
gonna meet our maker."
I headed back to Chicago. Claire was kicking and screaming in the boot of my car, but I drowned out the sound of her struggles with a genius piece of music, Mozart's Requiem.
The police had been tailing me cautiously for the last two miles. I don't know if it was because they knew I had Claire in the boot or if it was because I was speeding. It didn't matter however; we had reached our destination, Outer Drive Bridge.
I put my foot down on the gas and hit 100 mph, fuelling myself with a mighty adrenaline rush, everything seemed clear and justified.
I rolled down my window, with the music blaring and the flashing blue lights behind me, I closed my eyes and gave the world the finger; just one last fuck you.
We plummeted into the cold wet lake, where Claire would surely die. The police wouldn't be able to get her out; they'd need divers to get to her and by that time she would already be blue, colder than the slab she will finally lie on.
I got knocked unconscious by the impact and drowned horribly myself. People say drowning is like bliss; no pain. All I can say to that is, I'm glad I was unconscious and didn't feel a damn thing.
For this act of first degree murder and suicide, I would surely be immortalised; famous forever! They would write books and make films about me; never forgotten. The guy who made something of himself, fucked it up and went out with nothing.
Dazed
Then I woke up.
I could see the stars fading, as I came back to reality.
I felt the back of my head. Sticky blood was trickling down my neck. I was in school; I had been beaten up, back in the shit.
I am fifteen again, mid-pubescence, a victim to the bullies. Was that all a dream?
Or was it a warning of future events, I can't make sense of it; all I know it has taught me valuable lessons. Nothing is impossible and the human race is a generally disgusting, self-centred, greedy bunch of animals and those people should be avoided at all costs. But amongst the shit there are some true, honest, loving, selfless individuals who tend to get walked all over because they believe in the good of man.