The Blue In Your Eyes

The house

The house was a joke!
I had never seen anything like it. A big house, with a tenniscourt, a heated pool, a garden the size of a football field... a fucking joke. I couldn't help smiling. My apartment was in one end of the house, and it was amazing. I loved it. I tried hard not to, but I loved it. I could walk from my kitchen out to the patio and then down som stairs to the pool. Being af big-ass-movie-star was not to bad it seemed.

It was two weeks since I got the job, and I had only talked to Grant Shelby one time since. It was over the phone, and he had sounded drunk. Of course. I didn't care. The money he was willing to pay me, made up for everything. I desperately needed that money. If I worked here six months it would be enough. I could do six months - it was nothing.

My friends and family thought I was crazy.
"You didn't study for so many years to be someones assistant," my mum said. There was a tired tone to her voice.
"I need the money." That was my answer - to everything.
"You could get a good job, a job with meaning, a job that you would actually love," she tried.
I just shook my head. I did not need a job that I loved. I needed a job that paid well. That was the reason I applied for a position as a Personal Assistant at what I thought was a succesfull business man.
"Sometimes you need to put the past to rest," my mum said and walked out of the kitchen, before I could see her tears.
"Congratulations on your new job, sweetheart, I really like that Grant Shelby, he has made some amazing movies." My father always the diplomat.

It didn't take me many days to find out that the house was as empty, as it was big. There was a couple of gardeners, a housecleaner, and a guy in charge of the securty details. They came by, did there job and left again. None of them was big on talking.
The security guy named Jim, took one look at me and asked: "Are you cut out for this job?" I just shrugged.

I didn't see Grant Shelby. I knew he was in the house. A ghost of the past. Sitting in his room. Probably drinking. My one order was not bother him. EVER. If I had some documents or prints of emails, he needed to see, I had to place it in front of his door in the evening. The next day I found the papers with words scribbled with a red pen. Instructions. So I quickly found a routine. I got op in the morning. Took a long swim in the heated pool. Then ate breakfast and started checking mails and emails. And OMG there was a lot of emails. Like everyday. Grant Shelby was invited to things all the times. Parties, ceremonies, prize giving a. The scribbled word on the printed invitation was always NO, from the actor himself. There was also emails from writers, directors and studios. Some was pitching movies or tv-shows. Other was just angry about missed appointments and the likes ... And then there was all the fan mail. How a washed-out-drunken actor could have so many fans was beyond my comprehension. But he had. And they loved him!

I had only been in the house for five days, when an email popped up ind the Grant Shelby inbox. A woman claiming that Shelby was the father to her daughter. She attached pictures and everything. She named time and place for the meeting with the actor, and recalled what they discussed and how they ended up in bed together. Her mail was heartbreaking. She needed Shelby to step up and provide for the child. I printed everything. The mail. The pictures. And planted it before the door. The next day the the papers was smeared with big red letters. IS THIS A JOKE? DONT WASTE MY TIME.

I was appalled. If this girl really was Shelbys daugther how could he not care? But after some weeks in the house, I found out that theese emails where common. There were many young and not so young women, who claimed that Shelby was the father of their child. Some of them was just completely crazy. So I never printed those mails again.

In the afternoon, when I had answered and printed email, and answerd phonecalls about all kind of things (most of them I didn't know how to answer and there was no one to ask), I went for a long hike. This was the best way to clear my head. The nature was beautiful and the two hour walk was the best moment of my day.

"What do you mean, you haven't seen him yet? You have been there for three weeks?" My friend Erin laughed in the phone. "It sounds absolutely bananas... You two living in that house, and not even talking. What does he do all day?"
"I don't know... I was walking through the quiet house with a script in one hand, and the phone in the other. The script was delivered to my appartment. "I guess he is drinking and sleeping."
"Oh I wish you were a writer, this could make for an amazing horror movie. What if he is a vampire - or not really a life... just a ghost... and nobody know?" Erin had the weirdest imagination ever. I laughed and then I stopped.

Before me stood the most beautiful boy, I had ever seen.