Spencer James moves from the comfort of his own home to chase his dream of becoming an actor. Along the way, he meets people that will change his life; Some for the better. Others for the worse. It's all up to him to decide which is which.
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"Okay, enough about me," he says with a bright smile. "So same question. If you weren't an actor, what would you be?"
"Probably a journalist or writer of some sort!"
"Okay, true to the art!" He responds as he kisses my forehead.
"I think that was my first love. I used to write in my diary as a kid all of the time." I tell him.
"What about your personal life?" Spencer asks. "Would you be a journalist slash soccer mom? Or just a journalist?"
I giggle. "If that's your way of asking me if I want kids, then the answer is yes. I always saw myself being a wife, mom, and doing it ten times better than my own mom."
He nods stoically. "Why you don't want kids?"
Spencer looks at me and smiles brightly before shaking his head no. "I swear I never found kids to be apart of my plan until about three minutes ago."
I giggle a little louder. "So wait! You would reconsider having kids for me?"
"Who wouldn't?" Spencer asks and I think about the time I asked Colson to leave town and start a family with me.
I let out an insecure chuckle before we both hear my phone vibrate against the nightstand.
"It's Colson," I tell him as I reach for it! "I need to get going. His plane lands soon!"
"Oh —- okay, but what does that mean for you and me?" He asks and I wish I could tell him I'll be back tonight or even tomorrow. But truthfully, I don't know when I'll be able to talk to Colson. ___________
The snaps of Colson's fingers in front of my eyes stops me from the daydream I'm having about the last night Spencer and I were together.
It's been a few days since I laid in his arms, shortly. And I truly miss him.
That night was magical, beyond measure. Yet, all we did was talk. No sex. Just conversation. We spoke on everything from our childhood to our future.
"You hear me? Yo—- stop day dreaming and listen—" Colson asks me as I stare out of the window of the five star hotel we're staying in for a couple of nights.
"Diddy happened! I'm sitting in the lobby and Diddy walks through." He yells excitedly.
"Then what?" I ask, uninterestedly.
"He said what's up to me," he answers. "He said he knew my work and wished me luck at the show tonight."
"Wow," I mumble and he jumps on the bed, happily.
"I mean I knew I was doing good, but Diddy? C'mon babe! You got to admit, Diddy? That shit is hardcore." He says in between shots of liquor.
