Misery

Chapter 1: Elsa

It's going to kill me if I have it. It'll kill me if I don't. It's the best way out. It's the worst way in. I want to relax. I want to stress more.
God, why is alcohol so hard?
My stomach groans at the thought of even white wine, while my mind needs a few cans of gin and tonics. I call up all the stubborness left in me, but I am not the same rich actress from New York the world thinks I am.
Eventually I agree my brain could use some numbing, and walk over to my fridge. I stop myself at the balcony of my penthouse, and look over the beautiful city as the sun sets. No matter how many times I see this scene, it always feels as if something is missing. No, it feels as if someone is missing. What's the point in having fun if no one can see it? More then anything I want to hold Emily and show her how all the bright colors change to black, and to have Jason there, rocking her gently to sleep, and taking me into his lap. Obviously I can tweet a picture of the site, but having someone actually there is different.
I sigh and continue making my way over to the resting place of the gin when my cellphone rings. I make a mental note to send my blessings to whoever is calling me and distracting me from my drink.
"Hello?" my proud and sober voice clearly says.
"Elsa! We got the cast together, but auditions for Jason are tomorrow!" said thevoice of David Hennignton, the director for a (hopefully!) upcoming movie
"So...lemme guess... You want me to fly out to L.A. to help you with, what do you say? 'The hardest decision in my lifetime'. Got it. Be there."
"Thanks!" he hung up.
I am left with a smile on my face, knowing I finally have a reason to call it a (mostly sober) night.
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I tried sleeping, I really did, but my insomnia and nightmares decided otherwise. After only downing half a can of beer for my restless mind, it was easier to fall asleep, and I woke up at five AM.
Mind you, that's a record! I get three hours of sleep on a regualar basis. Today I got five. I didn't have nightmares when me and Jason slept together, not even about Susan, Dad, or even Mom, but now I can't even sleep without getting drunk.
After arriving at JFK with the flight scheduled for eleven AM (which was late, obviously), I sit down, but of course have to deal with paparazzi. After dealing with the issue, I sit down amd relax. Here, surrounded by busy beings, my mind cannot go to the restricted sections in my head. I am too busy trying to figure people out, playing Sherlock Holmes.
Eventually I board the flight, and am finally about to peacefully doze off (with someone taking pictures of me) when I remember the purpose of my trip. Too find the person to play the role of Jason.
Normally it wouldn't matter to me, who played who, but this script isn't a story the romantic parts of my mind has cooked up. These are retellings of my memories with the man I loved. Retellings, so I left out bits and pieces and changed entire weeks. Basically, the movie script is less gruesome then what actually happened to me.
I have to choose Jason, my Jason. I go through a list of Hollywood's most attractive men, but I can't imagine a Pitt or a Depp being the person I want them to be, a hopeless drunk, forgetting about his wife and kids. I guess I am Jason now.