Tethered (12 page)

Kurt picked me up, and we drove over to Charlie’s House of Dogs, which was
almost considered a Los Angeles institution. Celebrities had their pictures and autographs on the walls, and their menu was as long as it was delicious. I had been here twice, but never with somebody who had
his
picture delicately hung on the wall.

As we pulled up in Kurt’s Ferrari, all eyes were immediately drawn to us, as all of the
hungover and high college kids were anxious to see who was inside. This surely had to be a celebrity, and I took a deep breath before getting out of the car the same time as Kurt, hoping nobody would recognize me and try to hang around us while we were here.

“Oh my God, it’s Kurt Simmons!” some girl screeched.

“Dude, it’s really him,” some frat guy yelled as he raised his beer in the air.

Kurt grabbed my hand, showing to everybody that I was with him, and we walked up to the counter as camera phones started flashing and the paparazzi began to show up, as if they knew we were coming here
. I looked around and was overwhelmed with everything. Flashing lights, shutters going off, and fangirls asking a million questions to both of us. How did he live through all of this mayhem?

Kurt ordered us disaster dogs, which were grilled and then deep-fried hot dogs, in an oversized sourdough bun, with mustard, sauerkraut, sautéed onions, hot relish, and mayonnaise
. To say it was overkill would be an incredibly large understatement. We also got two large sodas and a large basket of freshly made fries to share.

We took our number, number twenty-one, and sat down at a table outside, with our little red plastic number sitting on the edge of the table
. A few people came up to us, big fans of his, and requested autographs and pictures. I told him it was okay and that he should always be good to his fans, and he obliged with the requests and was pretty nice to anybody that came up.

After our meals came and we gobbled them up, with mine only getting three quarters of the way done, we sat there, after the shock of Kurt being here wore off for most of the patrons, and talked a little
. I told him about school, and how it was getting harder as I went on. My English class wasn’t that easy, and Kurt said I should be doing great in that class on the count of English is my native language.

It wasn’t until we were close to leaving, though, that shit really hit the fan
. As we sat there, sipping on our drinks and having a good time talking about the realism of action movies, someone showed up…someone I didn’t need to show up.

“
This
is the other guy?” Tom asked as he stood in front of our table, a furl showing as I thought he was about to blow a gasket.

“Tom, calm down, it’s not what it looks like,” I said as I stood up and pushed him back.

“Who is this?” Kurt asked.

“I’m Tom. D
on’t you know who I am? I was getting to know her and almost dating her before you came into the picture,” Tom said, his face getting red with rage.

“You’re the other guy I found out about?” Kurt asked before laughing hysterically.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Tom asked.

“I mean, I’m sure you’re a nice guy and all, but you aren’t me
. I’m a movie star and you’re…well…
you
.”

“You tell him Kurt!” some drunk guy yel
led, as a crowd began to form.

“Tom, just go home
. This doesn’t concern you,” I said as I begged him to leave.

“No, this does concern me,” he said as he pushed me to the side.

“Don’t you touch her like that. You have no right,” Kurt said, as both of them got closer together, their puffed out chests almost touching.

As things began to escalate, paparazzi began to show up, as well as the police, which came over only after hearing the ruckus from the street.

“What’s going on here?” an officer asked as he interrupted the party.

“This guy stole my girlfriend,” Tom said.

“I’m not your girlfriend,” I said.

“She’s definitely not yours
, buddy,” Kurt said as he balled up a fist.

All of the sudden, without a single warning or notice, Tom hit Kurt across the face
. It was instantaneous, and something I couldn’t even react to in time, as it all just happened in a blur. The two cops immediately tackled Tom to the ground and tried to put him into handcuffs as he struggled, before finally accepting it and letting them cuff him.

Kurt smiled, a little blood in his mouth covering his white teeth, as I stood there and immediately began apologizing.

“Would you like to press charges, sir?” a cop asked as they brought Tom to his feet.

Kurt looked at me, seeing the tears form in my eyes, as the emotion was almost all too much for me
. I didn’t want this to ever happen. They weren’t supposed to ever meet, and neither of them were supposed to get hurt or arrested. This was my entire fault. I was better off single. At least only
I
got hurt then.

“No, I won’t, but I don’t want him anywhere near me,” Kurt said.

“Are you sure, sir?” an officer asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

The officer uncuffed Tom, but held onto his arms, before escorting him off the property and away from both of us.

“I am so…so sorry Kurt,” I said with a tear in my eye.

“Don’t be,” he said as he wiped away my tear and kissed my cheek. “He was mad, I was mad, and it happened. You’re still going to the premiere with me, and we’re going to have a good time. I should go home and ice this though. I’ll take you home and see you again on Friday,” he said with a smile, only traces of blood staying in the small cracks in between his teeth.

I nodded and put my head down, and we
got back into his car, the bystanders still taking pictures and video, as well as the slimy paparazzi, who were likely having wet dreams from a story like this happening.

•••

Kurt dropped me off and kissed me good-bye in his car before I went inside and immediately got changed, jumped into bed, and covered my entire body up to my chin with my comforter. Morgan wasn’t home, instead at her sociology study group, and I closed my eyes and tried to erase tonight from my memory.

Why me?

Chapter Twelve

The few days that had passed since the altercation between Tom and Kurt left me divided and upset. Neither of them had contacted me, although Kurt did come through and his assistant had me fitted and the dress and accessories sent over. I was a little optimistic since he did still send me everything, meaning he obviously still wanted me as a date, so I took that as a good sign. These few days could have acted as a buffer zone for us, and maybe he just needed the space to calm down. What happened was deplorable, and pestering him wasn’t going to be anything that would help.

I began to get ready immediately when I got home
. Kurt’s assistant had someone sent over to do my hair and makeup, and they worked quickly and efficiently because of my school schedule. We didn’t have the time for mistakes or anything special in terms of hair and makeup, so I went with just a light and airy look, which still made me look good. The jade strapless gown, was ruffled around the waist and hugged onto my body, and fitted great. It was a little tight, but maybe I can attribute that to the box of donuts I had two nights ago from getting too upset with this all. Oh well, I could still breathe, and that was what mattered.

Kurt arrived at around five, rush hour, and his driver came to the door instead of him
. As I opened the door, a few paparazzi photographers were getting out of their cars and snapping pictures, as they had followed Kurt the entire way here. Now they also knew where I live. Hopefully, they thought this was just some shady-ass salon or something. That or they wouldn’t remember this little place in the sea of locations they go to daily.

“Good evening
, miss. I’m here with Mr. Simmons to take you to the premiere. Are you ready to depart?” the man, who was older in age, likely his sixties, asked.

“Yes, I
’m ready,” I said before grabbing my clutch, which had my phone and keys inside, as well as a half-used tube of lip gloss.

I closed the door, locking it behind me, and walked down the steps holding my gown up, which dr
agged on the paved sidewalk below, before having the car door opened for me and getting inside to see Kurt sipping on a drink.

“Hey you,” he said.

“Hi,” I replied, not sure if I should be all flirty and close after everything that had transpired.

“Man
, this shit is good,” he said as he held the glass in front of him and saw the little white ice cubes swirling around inside.

The driver got in the car and pulled out into traffic
. I turned around and looked out of the back of the limo, seeing the paparazzi, all four of them, getting in their cars and screeching off to keep on us. I guess this was going to be a great night.

•••

The scene as we arrived was chaotic, to say the least. It was one thing when I went to the other premiere and got off at the hut before the madness, but this was insane. Cars lined up, celebrities of all different types and importance, and reporters on the side of the red carpet, all of them trying to shove microphones down the throats of everyone walking the carpet. I was with Kurt Simmons, Sexiest Man Alive, and I knew this was soon going to be us. Well, not us, mostly him, but I was going to be on the side of it, and likely thrown into the mix, even though I was praying I wouldn’t be.

“Are you ready for this?” Kurt asked as we pulled up to the carpet
.

“I think so,” I replied.

“Well you better be,” he said snidely.

The door opened, and I was thrust out of the car, camera bulbs flashing incessantly as I squinted and tried to adjust myself to it all
. Kurt got out right behind me, peace signs in the air, as he was clearly a little inebriated.

“Kurt!”

“Mr. Simmons!”

“Kurt
, over here!”

The shouts were loud and constant
. We were the only people on the carpet, at least in the front, and every reporter there had their hawk eye focus on both of us…and I was scared.

Kurt took off, and I shuffled behind him, my heels digging into my feet with every step
. Shouldn’t I be holding his arm, or at least next to him? I felt like I was his servant trailing behind him, not his date. I blamed it on the alcohol, and maybe when the rush of the reporters wore off I could get a little snuggle time. He did tell me once that he always got nervous and twitchy when he had interviews, so he must be just nervous.

Kurt walked up to the first reporter, a man that he must’ve liked, for he hugged him and they both smiled
. I walked up to the side of Kurt, not so far away that I looked reserved, but not so close that I was inserting myself into the interview. They talked for a few minutes, and then I was called over. The reporter, a man who I didn’t know, smiled and motioned for me to join them. I smiled and went over, thinking everything was all peachy.

“So you must be the girl,” he asked.

“I’m sorry?” I asked, unsure of what he was talking about.

“Well, the entire country is buzzing about the fight Kurt got in the other day
. You were there, am I correct?” the reporter asked.

“Oh, yes, I was there,” I said with a half-assed nervous smile.

“And what can you tell us about that?” he asked.

Kurt said nothing, looking around and smiling at other people he recognized
. He wasn’t even a part of this conversation, but seemed to just be standing there to look like he was all into it. I wanted to tug on his jacket and ask for help, but it wouldn’t have mattered. I would’ve just looked guilty then.

“Well, someone got mad at Kurt and hit him
. I’m not sure what else to say,” I replied.

“And did you know this guy that brutally assaulted Kurt?”

Brutally assaulted? I felt horrible that Kurt got hit, but it was just a punch. It wasn’t like a gang of men with bats and chains strapped him down and beat him or anything. Kurt even denied medical attention, so I wasn’t sure where all of this was coming from.

“Yes, I know who he is
. Kurt also knows who he is,” I said.

“Kurt,” the man said as he tapped Kurt’s shoulder, getting his attention
. “Did you also know th—“

“Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re talking about
. Everything is all good man,” Kurt said before turning around to wave at his friend before giving his attention back to us.

“Well there you have it folks, straight from the horse’s mouth
. As always, it’s great to see you, Kurt,” the man said.

“Great to see you too
, Alan,” Kurt said before leaving this part of the line.

Did I really just get out of that
? I knew it wasn’t exactly smooth or graceful, but Kurt’s inability to pay attention with my vague answers got us completely out of trouble. Maybe Kurt a little tipsy wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

•••

Kurt had taken a bunch of still pictures outside, as I opted to just wait for him on the sidelines near the entrance to the venue. Loads of celebrities passed by, with many of them stopping to say hi to Kurt. He looked happy, but I could see the glazed-over look in his eyes. When he got enough of the cameras, he shooed them off and walked up to me, wrapping his arm with mine. He kept going, dragging me along as I shuffled my almost bloodied feet beside him, as I tried to keep up. He waved at people, and smiled, but paid no attention to me whatsoever. I was like arm candy. I might as well have been an escort or prostitute or something. I felt like shit, and I immediately regretted coming along tonight.

We had to wait in line for entrance into the venue, as the ushers had to walk every person or couple to their seats
. They were all assigned, for whatever reason, and it wasn’t anything like a real movie theater where you scrambled for the best seats in the house, leaving the stragglers to break their necks on the front row seats. As we stood there, one of Kurt’s exes walked near us, looking at Kurt, as he locked eyes with her. They had a very nasty and public breakup a year ago, and neither of them seemed to even want to come close to one another. The woman looked at me, and I saw Kurt out of my peripheral vision connecting the dots and seeing what was happening. All of a sudden, embarrassingly, he slapped my ass, looking at her and smiling, as if I were some kind of trophy.

“Stop it,” I said as I pushed his hand away.

“Wow, okay. Am I not allowed to show some affection?” he asked with an annoyed tone.

“That’s not appropriate
, Kurt,” I said firmly.

“I should’ve brought someone more fun,” he replied under his breath.

Someone more fun? Seriously? Me not wanting to be groped in public meant I was no fun? Was alcohol really
this
much of a problem for him? A week ago we were cuddling up in Napa Valley, and now it was like I was out with a monster. Not only that, but I seemed to be…expendable. It was one thing to be mad I wouldn’t let him grab my ass, but to say he shouldn’t have brought me? That was low…and the low digs hurt, no matter whom they came from.

We got up to the front of the line after ten minutes and the usher took us to our seat
s, which were in the middle center of the theater. They were really great seats, and luckily I had some short woman in front of me, so I could see the screen clearly. This movie wasn’t slated to be released for another week, and I actually did want to see it. It was about a ballerina who becomes a prisoner of war after being captured. The other regime thought she was some kind of seductive spy, and it was about her escape and return to a scarred reality. Every report gave it praise, and seeing it before any “normal” person made me feel special.

After fifteen minutes, with Kurt surprisingly staying still the entire time, the lights dimmed and the curtains opened, the screen being quickly lit up
. I was in awe, and with every word the actress on the screen said, I became more and more entranced. Captivating, heartbreaking, and beautiful were three words I could easily use to describe this masterpiece.

Around halfway through the movie, I heard something
—a noise. I looked around, the buzzing sound was annoying the hell out of me, before glancing to my right and finding the culprit. It was Kurt. He was asleep; likely a side effect of the booze, and his nose was making some whistling noise as he snored. I slapped the side of his thigh and immediately brought my hand back and kept focused on the movie as he woke up, looking around to see what was going on, and who woke him up. I didn’t acknowledge him, mostly so he wouldn’t try and make a scene. He couldn’t prove I did it, and if I didn’t even look at him and remained focused in front of me, I could get away with it. Luckily for me, he perked up a little and rubbed his eyes as he kept his vision, although groggy, on the screen. Whether it was for sympathy or embarrassment, I didn’t know, but I was just glad I didn’t look stupid sitting next to a snoring man.

•••

We had an after-party following the premiere, which was held inside the theater. There was a separate venue inside, with huge open party spaces and ballrooms, and there was everything from swag bags, to an open bar, to celebrity chef offerings, and even makeup services so the women could get freshened up. This seemed more like a luxury resort offering and not a movie premiere, which were a dime a dozen in this town. No wonder I saw so many spas everywhere around town. This business was booming!

I stayed near Kurt as the night started
. I didn’t know anybody else here, only who they were, and I figured it was the safest bet. I might be a little expendable to him, but right now, I needed him if I was going to get through this without looking like a total loser. There were waiters and waitresses walking around with champagne and hors d'oeuvres, all neatly arranged on silver platters that they kept secured against the body. Kurt grabbed a champagne flute from a passing waitress and bent over to get a good look of her ass in her tight black pants. As she walked away, not seeing him, he grabbed his junk and pushed it to the side, as if he were getting a boner. I rolled my eyes, my anger building, but not saying anything for fear of repercussions. Knowing my luck, I’d be left to find my own ride home in this expensive dress and horribly small shoes.

As Kurt mingled with a few old costars from his movies, I was left behind him on the sidelines, not being brought into the conversation at all
. None of them even asked about me or said anything to me, instead probably thinking I was just some escort to make him look good. I wasn’t that, was I? Did Kurt really want to have a good time with me, but after what had happened with Tom he was now turned off from being close and just couldn’t find a replacement last minute? My freaking out in my head made me even more paranoid. The incident at the restaurant kept playing over and over in my head, but I wasn’t thinking about the punch, but who threw it. Tom. I had given up Tom—good, reliable, and comfortable Tom—in exchanged for chocolate syrup and sprinkles, which was now putting me in a diabetic coma. Sure, vanilla ice cream wasn’t the most exciting, as it wasn’t swirled with sweets and goodies, but it was reliable. It would always be consistent, not too much or little and it could comfort you, even if it was a little plain and boring. But now, my ice cream was drenched in shitty syrup and sprinkles, and I couldn’t just scrape it off and be left with my vanilla ice cream. Even if I did, there would still be plenty of traces of the sweet toppings left over. Even if I could convince Tom to see me, I still had to answer to him about everything that had happened. I wasn’t sure that I could pull myself out of that very deep hole, and with the way tonight was going, I might very well be without a man here very, very soon.