The stifling heat awoke Dave slowly. Clumsily he pushed the bed covers off him in an attempt to cool down slightly, turned over on his side and stretched his arm out to his bedside locker. His hand fumbled to find his cigarettes. After a few seconds of pawing around he found them, slowly drew one from its box and lit it. Dave inhaled fast and let the smoke fill his lungs, slowly exhaled and watched it flitter into nothingness. It had been three weeks since he had slept for any longer than three hours. “I need to stop this; can't function anymore; mind becoming erratic.” he told himself with conviction. With that he sat up at the end of his bed, scratched his head and looked around. His large bedroom was in a bad state of neglect. Dirty clothes were strewn about the floor and dishes were turning green with mould. The stench was putrid. “Ah, there it is, damned thing”, he muttered as he snatched his maroon dressing gown from the floor and slipped into it.
As he quickly stubbed out his cigarette Dave stood up, blood rushed to his head and his pupils dilated. His vision was blurry now. He thrust his left arm against the wall to support himself, “Oh God, I feel like shit” he thought in self-pity. His stomach tightened and groaned and with that Dave ran to the en-suite and as he did so he slipped on the glossed black tiles and violently hit his head off the hard surface. Waves of pain pulsed through Dave’s body, “Not again, I cant take this,” he muttered to himself but as he finished his inner monologue he felt a warm burning sensation rising up his oesophagus, His mouth automatically opened to let the vomit pour out as Dave’s nostrils filled with the sickly smell. He felt the warm thick liquid stream down his chin and cheeks. For a moment he just lay there still and mused to himself, “How can I even vomit anymore? I haven’t eaten in three days.” The room filled with a cackling laugh; the laugh of a man who had stooped so low that he could even make hurting himself amusing in his head.
After about fifteen minutes of lying there and laughing at his own sorrows Dave slowly stood up, turned on the faucet and splashed water over his face to wash off the vomit and the water felt good on his skin; it was a small amount of relief in comparison to the mishap he'd endured. He looked up from the sink and into the murky mirror overhead, “God, man, you look horrendous” he said to himself with disdain whilst feeling his face. Dave was a good looking man of twenty-six but the past few weeks had taken their toll on him. His usually immaculate short cut brown hair now hung over his brow and was matted to his scalp. The area surrounding his eyes was composed of various shades of purple, black and yellow and the eyes themselves were almost entirely bloodshot. Wrinkle lines had carved their way deep into his brow and he had now grown an unbecoming beard. This was completely out of character for Dave as he'd always been obsessive about his appearance.
Dave took one more quick glance at himself before he fastened his robe and shambled into the living room. As he opened the door light flooded through his eyes, squinting as they struggled to take in the strong midday sun, “Christ, I need to clean this shit up,” he thought to himself. Magazines were strewn across the floor, his couch was broken in two and empty vodka bottles had taken over the kitchen to where Dave proceeded and boiled some water to make himself a green tea. He struggled with the kettle as he tried to pour water into a cup, “SHIT!!!,” he screamed in agony missing the cup and scalding his feet he cursed again, “Goddamn it; need to focus; need to regain composure.” Dave took in a deep breath and stirred his tea, limped back across the living room and stared out of the huge window. “Hollywood hills: The symbol of celebrity, status and culture.” Pausing for a minute he made a puzzled expression and thought “But what does it all stand for? What does it mean? It’s entirely shallow. Everyone who lives here is a blood-sucking whore who'll cut you down in the name of their public image.” He clenched his fists and his cheeks turned claret. Picking up a glossy magazine from the floor he gazed trance-like at it for some time. “How could they do this to me? The tabloids and their fucking see-saw morals, it's all a show. Ha! 'Natalie Goldman set to marry new hunk.' ” His hands began to shake and scrunching up the magazine in his fist he threw it at the stack of empty vodka bottles and sent one of them crashing to the ground, exploding into hundreds of tiny shards. His mind filled with hate.
“How could that goddamn bitch do this to me? It’s only been two months and she’s engaged, is she for real?” Tears streamed down Dave’s cheeks and his head became heavy with emotion, “Does she have no feelings for me at all anymore? All I ever did was give that girl everything I could and then she cheats on me with some stranger in a nightclub. Not only that but she didn’t have the tact to do it away from cameras? I don’t know who’s worse, her or me. I spent 3 years of my life with her after all but I never thought she was capable of something of that degree. Got to stop thinking like this; I’m going around in circles.” Dave turned away from the window and went over to his answering machine and pressed play. “Hey Dave, it’s Troy. How are you doing, man? Sorry I couldn’t ring sooner, just been really busy. Anyway, get to the point, I’ll drop by at three, see you soon. Oh yeah, I‘ve got what you asked for.” Dave glanced at his watch. It was two-thirty so he'd have just enough time to shower before Troy, his agent, called over.
The broken actor opened the fridge, “Ah, the Devil's brew!!” he said to himself with a grin on his face whilst reaching in and grabbing a fresh bottle of vodka from the seven that were in there. He opened a cupboard above and grabbed a pint glass, placed it on the table and with shaky hands filled it half way. Dave picked up the glass and idly watched the vodka swirl around before downing it all in one go. He felt his stomach warm and his throat burn, It was a feeling he had grown well accustomed to over the past few weeks. In the en suite the smell of vomit almost turned Dave's stomach but he didn’t care as it was the least of his worries. He dropped his robe and stepped into his shower, the warm water was comforting. He closed his eyes and let the alcohol take over.
Dave was woken by the doorbell ringing, he'd fallen asleep standing in the shower having succumbed to the vodka; “One second” he shouted out while stepping out of the shower and putting his robe back on. Staggering down the hall he opened the door sharply. Troy was standing there with a full bin liner. He was a well preserved forty-five year old and had mousey coloured hair which was cut tight to his head, aviator sun glasses sat on his long nose, which he peered over with a sombre look on his face, “Hey Man, how are you holding up?” There was a grave sense of sympathy in Troy’s voice. “I’m good Troy , real good. Come in.” Troy knew in his heart that Dave was not OK, but decided to indulge him for fear of enraging his long-term client. The pair walked down the hallway, Dave turning to Troy with a smile: “Do you like the new look? I’m trying out something new, a kind of New Age hippy thing.” Troy looked up at Dave with a false grin, “Yeah, You look great kid.”, “Thanks”, replied Dave with a big smile but Troy could see that Dave’s teeth had yellowed severely since they'd last met and that his breath smelled rancid. He loathed seeing Dave like this. The pair went into the living room and Dave turned to Troy with an earnest in his eyes, “Empty the bag” he said with a bitter tone in his voice. “Are you sure Dave?” countered Troy with an air of reluctance. Dave moved forward, intimidating, “Just empty the bag” almost losing his temper, feeling his heart beat rising and his stomach flutter with anticipation.
Leaning forward Troy picked up the bag, tipping its contents on to the white marble floor. “Here they are, just like you asked. This is pretty much every article either you or Natalie have appeared in since things went bad.” But Dave wasn’t listening, he was on his hands and knees frantically pawing through the magazines. He looked up at Troy with wild eyes, flailing a magazine in his hand, “Have you seen this? I mean, come on!” The article's title read “Naughty Nat up to no good!” and underneath was a picture of her straddling a unknown man in a glitzy nightclub. Troy’s heart broke for Dave, he looked at him and saw the hollow shell of the man he once was. His hair was filthy, eyes sore and vacant, finger nails crusted with dirt, cheeks sunken and taught and a straggly beard. It was a far cry from the man who'd been awarded two Oscars and had been to Africa on numerous aid missions. “Yeah I saw it, Dave. She isn’t worth thinking about anymore. I mean what she did to you was disgusting.” But Dave wouldn’t answer, rather fixating on the brightly coloured trash on the floor.
Troy moved away from Dave, sat in an armchair, gazed out of the window and reflected. Four months ago his client was the hottest property in Hollywood and now the media had raped him, sucked him of his integrity, and spat him out. It wasn’t long before both Natalie and Dave had become targets, Natalie for obvious reasons and Dave because he'd 'Let himself go.' Troy’s mind grew heavy. How could they do that to people? Didn't they realise that actors are just human too? Just people like anyone else except their lives are in the spotlight and that in itself makes the ridiculous amounts of money they get paid justifiable. Suddenly Dave hopped in front of Troy, flicking through the pages of a magazine, “Sorry Troy I’m being rude, how are you? Have I had any job offers?” That put Troy on the spot; there hadn’t been any studio calls regarding Dave at all but he knew he couldn’t offend him either so tried to skirt the issue , “Ah I’m ok, same old story as always” Dave who was sitting cross legged on the floor in front of Troy peered up at him with an eager look, “So what about jobs?” Troy shifted uneasily in his seat and placed his hand on the side of his head, “Well there haven’t exactly been many man”, Dave looked up from his magazine confused, “What do you mean?” since Dave‘s first big movie he'd gotten used to rejecting hundreds of offers. Troy sighed “I mean there's been no acting offers, only tabloids wanting your side of the break-up.” The afternoon's visitor hoping not to offend his trusted charge accepted there was no way to avoid it. Dave was a passionate actor and the thought of talking to the tabloids about his private life apppalled him,so Troy cringed in anticipating Dave’s reply.
Looking up from the magazine Dave stared blankly at Troy and an uncomfortable silence followed. The actor closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, “I cant do that” he said calmly while looking back down at the magazine. Troy was surprised by Dave’s nonchalant answer which encouraged him to further understand his reasoning, “Why not?,” he asked in plain honesty. Dave put the magazine to one side and uncrossed his legs, “Why not? Why not?” Dave let out a quiet chuckle, “I’ll tell you why not. Because all my life I’ve taken the path of honesty, integrity, and dignity and even though I’ve adhered to that philosophy I’ve ended up on the bottom you know?” Dave leaned forward in his chair, “And I’ll tell you why.” He grabbed the magazine he had been holding and began to shake it and point at it, his voice rising, “These people have killed me inside, and for what? To sell more copy. It’s despicable.” Dave started to flick through the pages frantically, “Ah here it is, 'Dave West’s Meltdown!'” The article contained various pictures of the fallen star of which some were taken during his brief public appearances, while others were clearly taken from the hills surrounding his apartment, highlighting the various states he had been in. Pictures of him pushing paparazzi away or standing at his window semi-clothed with a bottle of vodka in hand. He read out snippets of the article, “ 'Dave west has wasted away'. 'Delusional'. 'A broken man.' ” Troy cut him short as Dave was about to say more, “Don’t listen to that garbage, it’s all sensationalised nonsense. It‘ll do you no good believing it.” Dave was biting his fingernails hard, still reading the article unphased. ”Ok, ok! You wont believe this” and drawing a deep breath proceeded to read the article aloud: “ 'Meanwhile his glamorous ex, Nat, lives it up in Spain with her new hunk. Turn to page 49 for her exclusive interview'. ” Dave put the magazine down and walked over to the fridge, “Why do people believe these lies? And why is she making money by selling me out?”, he asked while pulling out the already half empty vodka bottle. Before troy had time to answer the questions Dave took a large gulp directly from the bottle and continued talking, “Does that girl have no dignity? Or is she just playing their game? Do they forget what she did to me? Or are they glad she did it to me? I just don’t know anymore and I cant believe she is feeding their ever hungry venomous mouths like this. That isn’t the girl I loved, but it seems she is full of surprises these days.” Dave was eyeballing his favourite stimulant. He let out a sorrowful sigh and downed some more.
Troy got up from his seat, walked over to Dave and hastily tried to grab the bottle but he pulled away from him, “Come on, man, just give me the bottle” he said with his arm stretched out as if trying to beckon it to him. Dave cowered backward, cradling the bottle. “ I'm fine,I’m fine. I don’t see what the problem is.” He snapped and Troy grew impatient with his friend, “You don’t see the problem? Really? You believe that, do you?” He felt himself growing angry, Dave stepped back again, surprised at Troy’s remarks. He put the bottle on the counter saying “No I don’t see the problem. Not at all, in fact.” Troy’s hand slid down his face with frustration, “What 's happened to you Dave? Come on, lets be honest here, you’re a complete wreck. What's gotten into you? Four months ago you were the great David West, two-time academy award winner, What she did to you was inexcusable, I know, but you've got to forget her, I mean she isn’t wasting any time getting on so she doesn’t even deserve the thoughts in your head.” Dave began to laugh hysterically which completely puzzled and angered Troy, “What? What’s so funny?” Troy snapped at Dave and whilst buckling over with laughter the actor looked up and replied, “It’s a new look, I’ve told you that already and as for that daughter of a whore, well I’ve told you already I loathe the ground she walks on.” Dave regained composure, stood upright and said with a smile, “I’m fine Troy, really.” Troy had reached boiling point and knew that his long-term client and friend was blatantly telling lies to his face. He lost all composure and grabbed Dave by the collar of his robe, little resistance was offered and before he knew it Troy had him up against the wall, “Don't you see what you’ve done to yourself? You’re a wreck, You look like shit, And it’s all because of her, Just let go, You let that Bitch out;. of your head because you can reassure yourself that you have kept your dignity, Your pride, And Your self worth, What does she have? Nothing, Its all a lie, All fucking smile’s and rainbows for the public but I guarantee you that when show time is over so are her smiles.”, Troy looked into Dave‘s eyes, He was staring back at him timidly, Almost in tears, It was at this moment that he realised what he had just done and let go of Dave, “I’m sorry, I,I, Didn’t mean to do that, I don’t know what came over me, I’m just trying to look out for you”, Dave collapsed to the floor and curled himself in a ball, The adrenalin flowing through his body made him feel weak and sick. He looked up at Troy with blood red eyes, “Get out now,”he said slowly through clenched teeth and Troy took a step back holding his hands up as if to signify innocence, “Look I’m sorry Dave, It just angers me to see you like this because I know there’s nothing I can say or do to help.” Dave’s head lay on the cold marble, he was staring seemingly at nothing, “Get out and leave me be”, he said, this time with no conviction but more of a hollow tone; Troy’s head hung low, “Ok, I’ll leave then, but you call me if you want to talk.” Dave lay still and expressionless, he did not answer Troy, nor looked at him, just listened to the sound of footsteps and then heard the door slam shut. He was alone once more.
An hour had passed and Dave was still lying on the ground, his finger tracing idly along the lines of the tiles whilst thinking about Natalie. He thought about the good times they'd spent together in this very apartment; the days when they would curl up together on the couch and talk about each other’s hectic lifetyles; the nights when they lay in bed together where not even the paparazzi could get their claws into them. A sentimental smile crept across his face but as always the tragedy seeped into his mind. The betrayal, the disregard for his emotions, the soiling of his once sacred memories which she regurgitated to the tabloids for money. He grew angry, slamming his fist repeatedly on the marble whilst writhing on the floor as if his mental anguish had manifested in him physically, but he decided enough was enough and slowly rose to his feet. The old familiar blood rush kicked in once he stood up, but he didn’t mind, “Time for me to get back on track”, he said with conviction whilst making his way to the bathroom. This time he stepped into the main bathroom, unable to face the smell of vomit in his en suite. It was a grand room filled with all the sterility of modern design. The fading daylight gave the room a comforting orange hue and Dave dragged his feet along the cool floor then stood in front of the large mirror. He decided it was time to shave and at least look semi-respectable if he was to find his acting feet again. He filled up the sink at the foot of the large mirror and applied some shaving foam to his face, finding it difficult to shave through his scraggly beard. “Fuck!”, he muttered to himself whilst wincing from the pain of cutting his face. Twenty minutes after finishing and his face looked like it had been attacked by a small animal, he then decided that shaving whilst drunk was not the greatest idea in the world, however he was pleased at how he looked. He was beginning to see remnants of his old self.
Dave stepped into the living room with a smile on his face, feeling small signs of progress for the first time in months. He sat on an armchair, closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Tomorrow will be the day: The day I throw my problems away, start fresh, change my direction and start that goddamn screenplay I’ve been harping on about for the past few years. Get away from the camera. Get away from the limelight and be myself again, he thought to himself optimistically as his smile grew wider. Dave pulled a loose cigarette from his gown pocket, It was bent and crumpled but it would have to suffice as he didn’t want to look for the box. He grabbed a lighter from the floor and lit up his cigarette. He stretched out in his arm chair, gazed out of the window and thought about nothing in particular, which made him happy. He hadn’t had a clear mind space in a long time. Dave let the peace blanket him and lost consciousness.
After what seemed like days Dave woke up with a groan, He checked his watch it was 10:00 pm. His eyes focused on the half bottle of vodka sitting invitingly on the kitchen counter top, He had a playful grin on his tired face, “One last night of debauchery wont hurt, I must have a fitting goodbye to my old comrade, The great vodka!.”, He rose from his seat sporting a look of lust on his face and half danced over to the bottle picking it up quickly and downing it all, He let out a gruff grunt and wiped the excess away which had dribbled down his chin, His stomach was on fire but he paid little attention because tonight was his last night of fun. “Music, That’s it, I need music!.”, His reaction to his thoughts suggested he had a great epiphany, In reality it was in fact more mundane. He walked to his sound system and fumbled with the buttons for a while, He stood back from the machine, Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” echoed through the apartment, His father had instilled a good knowledge of classical music in him, And Moonlight sonata always invoked a deep sense of nostalgia in him. Dave turned away from the stereo whilst humming his favourite composition, The alcohol had taken over and he was staggering and hiccupping, He ambled to the fridge and took out another bottle of vodka, He most certainly didn’t need it but that didn’t cross his mind, There was a magazine on the floor which caught his eye, The headline read, “Natalie’s wedding plans.”, It didn’t hurt anymore, The articles, The loss, The loneliness, He had reached his emotional thresh hold and was at a comfortable level of numbness so he awkwardly picked it up off the floor and sat back in his arm chair, Slugging from the bottle and flicking through the pages. Dave read through the article, It detailed her lavish wedding to her new man, involving all sorts of grandiose amusements and over the top furnishings, Natalie’s husband to be was a sickly rich Wall street business man by the name of Michael Anshel, so there was no doubt in Dave’s mind that she would be spoiled rotten by him, He never knew her to be like this but then again he doubted if he ever really knew her to begin with or if it was all just for the media, He exhaled deeply and took another swig of vodka.
Dave sat in his chair looking at pictures of his ex frolicking on a boat in some tropical waters with Michael, she looked so happy, and so did he. Dave flung the magazine to the ground, He could feel emotion and sentiment creep back into his head so he made the conscious effort to snub them out, alcohol had always been good for that, He looked at the bottle and mumbled “Good for you Natalie, good for you.” sarcastically whilst taking another large slug, He was now severely inebriated and his train of thought had been derailed. Dave felt a warm sensation trickle down his leg, He had soiled himself but he didn’t care, He feebly raised the bottle to his mouth and drank the bottle until there was no more, He missed his mouth several times and was now covered in vodka, He looked around the room as if he was looking for someone, His eyes opened and closed slowly, “More.”, He said aloud, no reply, only silence, He let out a loud scream as if was a distressed gorilla and slid off his seat. The ground was cool and refreshing, Dave crawled on hands and knees to the fridge, It was a painfully slow affair but he didn’t care much for time in his current state. The cool white light of the refrigerator made his pupils shrink, He winced for a moment and pawed around until he produced yet another bottle. Dave reached up and placed the vodka on the counter and clumsily rose to his feet using it as support, He could barely see anymore as his vision was severely blurred, “Bed.” He said to himself like a Neanderthal, It seemed so far away yet it was only a few metres, He zig zagged out of the living room and into the hall which was pitch black, He considered finding the light switch but it seemed like too much effort at the time, he took three steps into the dark, while lamely trying to feel his way around he fell hard, forcefully hitting his head off the ground but the pain didn’t register, there was only a dull ringing in his ears. Dave had managed to make it to his bed, He lay still looking into the darkness and drank his vodka slowly, He closed his eyes and confronted his conscience, His arm’s dropped limp by his side spilling vodka on himself and soaking the mattress but he didn’t care, He was past that and all the pain of the day was dissipating, Dave felt so cold but there was no relief, He could feel his heart beat slowing and his breath was getting more shallow, His mouth opened slightly, “I love you.” He whispered, It was barely audible. Darkness consumed his head..
Saint Tropez, France. A champagne flute falls to the ground and fragments into pieces, Natalie Goldman lay still on a deck chair, Her right hand closed over her chest, there was a stand beside her, on it lay a magazine, It was open on the centre page which read as follows, “David West, R.I.P. 1983-2009. Last week world renowned actor David West passed away tragically in his luxury Hollywood apartment due to acute alcohol poisoning, police are treating the case as non suspicious, meanwhile hundred’s of fans have paid tribute by laying bouquets of flowers outside his apartment. On going tribute’s are being paid by his fellow colleagues and employers. This is a tragic case of a talented young man who didn’t deserve such a short life. Natalie Goldman has not been available to comment on the passing of her ex boyfriend, it is thought she is finalising wedding plans in France. Our deepest sympathies go out to all of David’s family.”. Beside the article stood an empty Ritalin container, underneath it was a scrap of paper, there was a messily written paragraph on it which said, “To Michael, I am so sorry. This was all a mistake that got out of hand and I wrongly involved you, what I have done is inexplicable and I cant live with it. Once again I am sorry, I hope you find happiness.”. In her right hand was another scrap of paper scrunched up in her palm which read, “ I didn’t mean it. I love you. I’ll be with you soon.”.
Tahiti, The South Pacific. Troy walked along the sun kissed beach feeling the warm sand between his toes with every step, He was in paradise and was relishing every minute of it. The reason Troy had been distant with Dave during the scandal was because he himself had also been in turmoil, He couldn’t bare to watch the media savaging his friend and found it very unnerving, after Dave and Natalie passed he decided it was time for an early retirement and relocation, the show business wasn’t all it cracked up to be after all. Troy found a nice spot on the fringe of the tropical forest and sat on the sand. He looked out at the blue sky and ocean, his phone began to ring which disrupted the tranquility, he pulled it from his pocket and answered; “Hello Troy this is Sarah here with star weekly magazine we..”, Troy hung up before she had time to finish, he looked out at the ocean once more and smiled, “this is for you Dave” the former agent said to himself before launching his phone into the ocean with all his might, he was at peace finally.
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