London Has Your Eyes

Chapter 1: Daniel

Shit! Trying to wake up, my head is cracking. I shouldn't have drank so much. I don't even remember how last night ended. I remember a bar, then a second one, my friends, some girls... It was fun, really fun, lots of drinks, and then... that's it... the fog.

I open my eyes and can’t figure out where I am. An unfamiliar room: light beige monotone walls, faceless dark wooden furniture, windows covered with thick curtains, and a fancy chandelier under the ceiling. Looks like I'm in a hotel. What the hell am I doing in a hotel?! I run my hands over the bed: the thin sheet beneath me is wrinkled, one pillow is lying on the floor. What am I even doing here? I can't remember how I got here. Maybe I picked up some hottie for once. But then why a hotel?! Damn it!!! Watch how much you drink, Daniel.

I look around. There's a glass of water on the small bedside table next to me, left by someone. I don't know if it's for me or not, but whatever. I need water more than anyone else. I gulp the glass down, trying to pick up the pieces of last night. I felt the water bring me back to life with every fiber of my being.

It took me a while to notice that I am in bed with only my underwear on. Somebody must have gotten some last night after all. I hope she's pretty. Rrrr! How could I forget?

Okay, it's time to figure out what's what. I get out of bed and rummage around the room looking for my clothes. No luck. My clothes aren't here. What the hell is this?! I can go out in my pants, of course, but I don't know... Maybe I thought she was prettier yesterday than she is. It happens, doesn't it?

I open my wardrobe in search of bathrobes, which are always available in more or less decent rooms. And here they are! I put on a white dressing gown with a gold hotel emblem, wrap up and leave the room. Screw it... Come on, Daniel, let's go deal with the consequences of your fun.

She sits half-turned by the window. Her ashy-blond hair is wavy across her half-naked shoulders, and her eyes are focused on the book she's holding in her hands. She's so  passionate about reading that she doesn't notice me. I stand and silently stare at her. She's cute. Apparently, the book has really gripped her, the expression on her face changes like a kaleidoscope every second. It's like she's absent from reality. Her eyebrows raise a little, then she frowns and bites her lip, and then a smile appears on her face.

- Ahem, - I decide to start a dialogue and find out how I got here and what I missed.
She doesn't even bother to turn around. She's looking at me sideways and quickly turns away, as if she's not at all interested in my presence.

- Good morning, Daniel, - she says indifferently, still looking at the pages of the book. Judging by her accent, she's a foreigner. That explains why we're in a hotel.

- Good... um... sorry, who are you again? - trying to be polite, but I have no idea what her name is, I don't remember her at all.

She smiles slightly, nods, puts the book aside and finally turns to me. She looks at me with her blue eyes, as if studying me. I'm used to the attention, so I endure the stare with the most unperturbed look.

You see, I'm an actor. And now I'm at my peak. I've signed on to a successful franchise, two films have already come out. So the increased attention is now my constant companion.

At first it was so unfamiliar, even fun. I had been yearning to get into the cinema for so long, and now my happy moment had arrived. Now I'm loved and wanted all over the world. That's true. Though deep down I still feel like it's a dream that could disappear at any moment. After the first film, my team and I had a promotional tour of Europe and believe me, we were ready to be snatched up everywhere. And I still can't get used to it. I always say that I'm not famous, because among my loved ones I'm still the same, but the crowd of fans never get tired of assuring me otherwise.

Life changed in an instant. I was so long coming to this and, in principle, was ready for anything like this. I come from a film family, so since I was a kid, I was with my father and mother on the set and watched the process. Could my life have been different? Sure. But I chose cinema. And I didn't make a mistake.

The only thing I haven't learned to cope with yet is people's attitudes. When suddenly there is so much attention, fucking courtesy, flattery and stupid adoration.

I'm not an idiot. I understand that fans love my character, his image multiplied by me. Such a fun pyramid. No one, honestly, cares about who am I. Just a shell of an adored character.

Sudden popularity has set its traps. Now you have to be very careful with any person who rubs next to you. There's too much falsehood. I've bumped into cute chicks a couple of times now, who then turn out to be journalists or bloggers hungry for exclusivity.

So now I'm standing in front of a blonde foreign woman, wrapped in a bathrobe, and I have no idea what happened last night, and what I should start worrying about.

- So? Are you going to tell me your name or what? - I ask her impatiently. Why the fuck isn't she saying anything?

- Alex. In your language, my name should sound something like this, - she says in English with a strong accent. This is going to be a fun morning.

- Okay, Alex, - say slowly and at length, savoring every sound, - why don't you help me reconstruct the events of last night?

- Maybe,- she laughs frankly. There's a twinkle in her eye that's starting to irritate me a little. - Let's have a morning quiz. Ask me questions, maybe I'll answer them. Maybe, even honestly, but it's not certain,- she continues to have fun, which pisses me off more. Who is she, anyway? Did you find a clown or something?!

- Well?! Did I ask you something funny? - I can hardly contain myself. After a bit of silence, I ask the main thing: - Did we fuck last night?

She didn't seem very happy with my question. The smirk immediately disappears from her face. She leaned back a little, furrowed her brow, and sighed heavily. Did I really screw up last night? Was it that bad? Nah, I'm usually on top of things. No girl has ever complained yet. I'm in the best shape of my life. But for some reason, the look in her eyes makes me feel uncomfortable now.

- You don't remember anything at all? Not even a little bit? Full fog? - she asks.

- I don't really, to be honest,- I shrug my shoulders.

- Look, Daniel, having sex on autopilot is not a good idea. It's boring as hell if you ask me. And considering the vegetable you were last night, I had no desire to let you in my pants. I'm sorry,- she shrugs her shoulders in response and looks away.

To say I'm a little taken aback is nothing to say. I stand there and feel my eyes widen at such a statement. What does it mean, "she didn't let me in"? Girls hang around my neck at the snap of a finger. And this one... She's definitely lying.

- Then why am I in my underwear? And where are my clothes, anyway? - I try to catch her in a lie, but she seems ready for the attack, because she lets out a chuckle.

- You see, you were loaded into a taxi yesterday and somehow you got sick on the way. Very badly. I had to reach into your wallet and pay the cabbie to dry-clean the interior. Believe me, we appreciated your entire daily ration. I dropped off the clothes at the hotel laundry. They should be here soon. No need to thank me,-she finally finishes, leaning back in her chair again.

Fuck's sake. I can only imagine what kind of videos will start circulating on social media again. Sophie's going to fuck with my head again for giving her jobs and getting me into situations. She's scolded me more than once for party videos, but she's been quick to clean up the unnecessary stuff. She's the best director I've ever had.

So, now I have to find out what stories this pretty girl managed to film while I was passed out.

- Why did I end up here at all? - I suddenly remember that I was in a bar with my boys, they wouldn't leave me there alone, and so drunk.

- Yeah... and you really don't remember anything...- I don't like the look on her face and the feeling of helplessness in front of this girl. - Looks like we're having a morning talk show. How about you get cleaned up, I'll buy you a hotel coffee, and we'll talk quietly. All right? - Now she's looking a little too calm. She thinks she owns the situation and has me on the hook. Well, well, well. She's right, though, I should at least take a shower, I feel like a sack of shit.