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.
"Man, I can see why you wanted to come to LA," my dad says as he walks onto the balcony of my new condo and stares off into the sunrise.
"It's beautiful most days," I admit and he agrees with a head nod. "Other days, I just miss home."
"That's fair! It's nothing like being home with your family and friends." He says and I take a deep breath. "But you can't stop now, son!"
"I don't want to stop. I just want a little break. The premier was a lot to digest." I admit. "Coop sent me four articles all about me, since last night's premier. It's like it happened over night."
"Only you know it didn't happen over night! And you worked your ass off for this. The more buzz, the better." My dad responds and I sigh.
"That might be true, but I don't know if I'm ready."
He laughs. "Son, you've been ready since the day you could walk."
I laugh, "what do you mean?"
"You don't remember this, but at the age of one, you'd always climb on your mom's coffee table and start babbling as if you were performing something."
"Really?" I ask.
"Your mother would always take you down," he continues. "But I would let you stay up there, in hopes that you'd start putting your words together, so I could actually understand what you were saying."
"I know mom wanted to kill me for standing on her coffee table," I say as I imagine the moment.
"And now she would kill to watch you continue to do what you love. So, continue to do what you love for as long as you can, son!"
I smile at his words before we share a handshake and hug.
"Thanks, Pops!" I say as he checks his phone. "Dad, what the hell are you doing?"
"What? I'm updating the 'James Train' on my social," his words send me into hysterics.
"The who?"
"That's what I call my fans. Well, they're mainly your fans," he reiterates. "I've got to give them quality content."
"Please— please just stop!" I say, jokingly, as I reach my hand out for him to give me his phone. "When did you start this page?"
He laughs as I scroll through his account.
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