Can't Turn Back Now, I'm Haunted (A Ben Willbond Rom Com)

Prologue | An American in London

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are beginning our descent into Heathrow, should be touching down in about twenty minutes. Please put your tray tables and seats back in their upright positions, and make sure your seat belts are fastened."
The crackling voice of the captain snapped me out of my doze as a wave of excitement shot through me. Immediately, I swiped the window shade up, hoping to catch a glimpse of the city lights, but we were gently bumping our way through a thick cloud. I suppose I'll have to get used to that, I thought to myself. I was a New Yorker, born and raised, so I was no stranger to a grey day, but two years in Los Angeles had clearly spoiled me. 

"If you'll just raise your tray table please." I turned to see the warm smile of the British Airways flight attendant who had taken care of Business Class -- yes, I was a Business Class flyer now, can you believe it?

"Oh gosh," I hurriedly snapped it back in place. "I'm so sorry, the captain just said it -- I was just trying to see the city, but, you know... clouds."

"It's alright!" She said brightly. "By the way, I love Taylor Made. It's me and my sister's favorite American show."

I grinned. It still gave me a thrill whenever anyone recognized me or said that my work made them happy.

"Thank you, that really means a lot," I said, and I meant it. "Please tell your sister I say hello!"

"I will, thanks!" She beamed, and pointed past me at the window. "Oop, there's your view!"
My head whipped around to catch the last scratches of clouds whipping past as the glittering constellation of London shimmered into view. My breath caught in my chest.

"Welcome to London, Ms. James."

My travel exhaustion began to set in as we whizzed through the city in a black cab, but it couldn't beat my excitement. I had been to London before -- years ago, before my on-camera career started to pick up, I did a summer study-abroad program in Stratford and had spent a total of thirty-six hours in London. Of course, I had been twenty-two at the time, so that thirty-six hours had been a whirlwind of pubs and live music and riding the tube at all hours of the night to go to a random cute guitarist's house party -- or rather, shabby little flat party, which yes, had been fabulous.

Now, at thirty, the idea of bed after a long day was far more thrilling than shots in a dingy Camden nightclub, to be honest -- especially after twelve hours of travel. When we arrived at the charming brick building, I dragged my massive suitcase two flights up the carpeted stairs, pausing to lean on the cool mahogany railing and catch my breath every few steps (another way I knew time had passed since I was last here), but it was all worth it when I put the paint-splotched key in the door and finally made it home.

"Oh wow..." I breathed. The flat was warm and inviting, an open plan with charming vintage touches -- a midcentury modern sunburst mirror above the fireplace, a handsome green velvet couch with gold claw feet stretched across a Scandinavian rug, a 1930's lamp with a tasseled shade on the end table, a vintage tin sign in the kitchen area showing pinup girls making pastries -- and across the living room, I could see french doors that would swing out onto a terrace that overlooked the nearby park. Beyond it, the city lights twinkled, mingling with the stars. "... ya done good, BBC."

 I had always loved British TV, but it hadn't occurred to me that with a simple request through my agent, I could be doing a two-episode guest star arc on my favorite show, Ghosts! But now here I was, filming the two-episode finale of the newest season, and I was nervous -- they were such a closely knit group. Would they accept me? 

I would find out soon enough...

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi guys! I've been kicking this story around in my head for a while -- it is fully mapped out and has a beginning, middle, and end, so I hope you'll join me for the ride! I want to specify that while I do write RPF (or, Real Person Fiction), what I really do is, if I develop a crush on an actor and think their situation would be a good framework for a romantic comedy, I use that as a jumping off-point for the story that appears in my mind. I obviously mean ZERO disrespect or encroachment of boundaries of anyone involved in this story, or their real-life partners. This is just for fun.

Thanks, can't wait to get rom-commy with you!