TO HAVE & HAVE NOT

33

Johnny

As I sank into the solitude of my dressing room, the din of the film set faded into the background, but my thoughts were still swirling with the intoxicating thrill of my on-screen romance with Olivia. It was hard to admit, even to myself, how much I had come to cherish those stolen moments between takes when I would kiss her on camera, and everything around us would fade away.

The movie had become a beautiful distraction, a canvas on which I painted my affection for her. Still, as I reluctantly acknowledged, it was also a countdown to the end of those blissful encounters I had come to crave. I could feel the weight of my secret longing heavy in the air as I stormed into the sanctuary of my dressing room, desperate to escape the frenetic energy of the set.

But there, lounging on the couch with an infuriatingly knowing smirk, was Steve, his leg draped casually over the armrest like he owned the place. I tried to pretend that my heart wasn't racing as I rushed past him to untangle myself from my character's clothes, but I could feel his eyes dissecting me with every hurried movement. "You sure you don't have the hots for this girl, JD?" he prodded, and I could only roll my eyes to suppress the undeniable blush creeping up my cheeks.

"Positive!" I shot back, convincing myself more than him, "She's half my age and in a relationship." Steve's unrelenting gaze only intensified, narrowing his eyes as if he wasn't buying my flimsy defense. "What?!" I retorted, caught off guard by his scrutiny.

"You seem quite flustered right now," he said, that insufferable smirk growing wider.

"Yeah, well, probably because you won't give this a rest!" I snapped back, feeling the blush deepen.

Here I was, caught in a whirlwind of emotion, grappling with feelings I couldn't possibly admit aloud, all because of a love story I was unwittingly living on screen.

Just as Steve and I stepped out of my dressing room to share a cigarette, the atmosphere shifted drastically when I noticed the door of Olivia's dressing room swing open. Carlos burst out of it, a whirlwind of anger, his face contorted in fury, and within moments, Olivia followed close behind, her own emotions flaring as animatedly as his. "You're the industry's biggest slut, and you dare to come at me?!" he bellowed, his words slicing through the air like a knife.

Shock washed over Olivia's face, her expression a testament to the rawness of the confrontation. I felt an unfamiliar surge of adrenaline as I instinctively started toward her, wanting to bridge the distance and offer some form of solidarity. Still, Steve's grip on my arm halted my impulsive advance, forcing me to observe this unraveling drama from a distance.

"You were nothing without me! Just some sad, pathetic loser who couldn't make it solo until I gave you something to write about!" The venom in her retort snapped me back. I couldn't help but raise my eyebrows in surprise at the vulnerability hidden beneath Carlos's bravado and the biting words Olivia had just unleashed.

At that moment, her eyes darted from the heated argument to lock onto mine, a flicker of something unspoken passing between us. Visibly defeated, Carlos stormed off, leaving Olivia and me stranded in a charged silence, mere feet apart as we absorbed the aftermath of their public breakup.

It was as though time stopped, and the hushed tension enveloped us, rich with the weight of unspoken emotions. "Looks like you don't have one of the problems you mentioned earlier," Steve remarked, playfully gripping my shoulder, breaking the momentary spell.

I shot him a confused glance, trying to process the underlying implications. His grin widened as he pointed out, "You said she was half your age and in a relationship. Looks like now she's only half your age and single, which I suspect will make your life all the more difficult not to pursue her."

The playful jab, laced with a hint of concern, only added to the swirling chaos in my mind as I stood there, realizing that the lines between professionalism and personal desire inevitably blurred in the aftermath of their explosive fallout.

Once we were back in my dressing room, the door clicked shut behind us, and a tension settled in the air. Steve turned to me, his eyes wide with urgency, and declared, "If you don't tell that girl you're in love with her, I might lose my mind." He punctuated his statement with a sarcastic chuckle, but beneath the levity of his expression lay an undeniable truth. Because he wasn't wrong—I was, undeniably, deeply in love with her.

"I'm just getting into character," I mumbled, an excuse tumbling from my lips like a well-rehearsed line. How could I confess such a thing?

"Bullshit," he breathed out, his frustration evident. "I've known you for over a decade, Johnny. I know you're in love with her." His voice was firm, ringing with conviction that made me squirm.

"I'm an actor, Steve. I'm getting into character," I repeated, my tone defensive, unwilling to let him or, worse, myself, confront the raw truth that weighed heavily on my heart.

"And an actor you are," he said with a sarcastic lilt, waving a dismissive hand. "But everyone around here knows you're in love with her. What's the absolute worst that could happen?"

"Hmm," I hummed, pretending to ponder the question deeply. I tapped my finger against my head in mock thought before dramatically shouting, "Oh! She could be creeped out by it, and then we'd be stuck trying to navigate that emotional minefield while we're trying to film! I owe Collin everything—this movie needs to make it big!" My voice rose, laced with anxiety, the pressure of success weighing on my shoulders.

"Trust me," Steve replied, leaning back against the wall with arms crossed, "I've been on set almost every day. This movie, I can assure you, is going to be a big fucking deal." His eyes gleamed with determination. "And that's because what's being filmed is intertwining with what's happening in reality. Which is that you and Olivia are falling in love. And I don't think it has anything to do with this movie."

"Still, it could," I insisted, shaking my head slightly. "It could have everything to do with the fact that we're playing lovers on screen. Those lines blur easily, you know?"

"Johnny," he sighed, frustration mingled with something softer in his voice. "You deserve to have love. Just think about it. Okay? You, out of anyone I know, deserve to find love."

His words struck me deeply. What he said was genuine, but it cut through my defenses like a hot knife. The truth was, I didn't believe I deserved to find love. My heart sank as I recalled my past—my divorce, my ex-wife Vanessa who had moved on so effortlessly after our separation, leaving me feeling like yesterday's news. That notion tortured me. I was just too afraid of enduring another failed relationship to even consider giving it a shot.

And when I thought of Olivia, my mind spiraled in complicated directions. She was twenty years younger than me, vibrant, and on the brink of a career that had everyone excited. I was a divorced father of two, even more reluctant to mix my life with someone who was exploring the beginnings of her own journey in an industry that could be as fickle as it was glamorous. I had lived through the whirlwind of young love and ambition, had tasted its intoxicating highs and crushing lows, and I had no desire to repeat that cycle.

What could she possibly see in someone like me? The gap felt too wide—the realities of my life, my responsibilities, and my emotional turmoil made the idea of pursuing a relationship with her seem impossible. I was the vessel for an array of conflicting emotions, and yet, standing there in Steve's presence, I couldn't shake the feeling that maybe I was also the greatest obstacle preventing myself from experiencing love in its truest form again.