Chapter 13: I Wish I’d Said...

Sunday February 26
“And the Oscar goes to ... David A. Dawson!”

I pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Halle all but tackled me as she laid a kiss on me. Between the pinch and the kiss, I had to assume this wasn’t some kind of made-up dream sequence where you suddenly forget what you’re supposed to do. This was a real-life example of forgetting how to function. My mom saw I was stunned and wasn’t getting out of my seat.

“Look at me!” she ordered.

I blinked and then focused on her.

“Just be yourself and accept graciously,” she said, then stood up and pulled me up.

I heard laughter when Mom pushed me out into the center aisle to make my way to the stage.

Rita James had tears running down her face because she was so happy for me. That made me realize I needed to get moving. It was probably in poor taste when I leaped onto the stage instead of walking to the side where the stairs were.

The gal who announced the winner was a pretty black girl, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember her name at that moment. She handed me the Oscar and gently pushed me to the lectern. I held the trophy over my head and put on my best smile, taking a moment to absorb the scene as the audience gave me a standing ovation. It was a surreal experience to have so many household names clapping for my award.

Then I saw the cameras pointed my way, and that reminded me I was live in front of a worldwide audience. I now understood why people would take this moment to push their personal agenda. When else would you get a chance to make a statement and reach so many people? If I hadn’t been utterly floored at actually winning, I might have talked about the plight of the homeless or pets needing to be rescued. But being selfish with a favorite cause wasn’t really what I was about. I wanted to play this straight and thank the people who helped me get here.

“If you can’t tell, I’m in complete shock that I won. Thank you so much to the Academy. To my fellow nominees, you are all so extraordinary that I look up to you and admire you all more than I can put into words. Due to the years of quality work you’ve all put in, in my honest opinion, you were all worthy of winning this award. I wasn’t sure how I would stack up in this talent-laden field. My win is a testament to everyone who helped me get here...”

I ran through everyone associated with the picture except Laurent Vance. There was simply no way I could bring myself to include him because of what he’d forced Kimberly Fillmore to do. Laurent telling her she had to sleep with me was a bridge too far. Everyone had advised me I should thank him since he had lost his life on set, but at that moment, I couldn’t find it in me to forgive him. It didn’t help that I couldn’t stand the man. He’d made my life miserable on set. I next thanked everyone else, including my agent, Ari Gould; my publicist, Frank Ingram; and my then manager, Caryn Buckley. As I acknowledged my parents and family, the music started to tell me to wrap it up.

“Finally, thanks to everyone back home and to my classmates at Lincoln High ... Go Bulldogs!”

They led me off stage, and one of the production people wanted the trophy. They smiled when I didn’t want to give it up.

“This is only a prop. Yours will be engraved and sent to your home later this week,” she assured me.

I was led to an area where they were set up to do interviews. Before I could talk to the lady, my parents, Halle, and Rita James put me in a group hug.

“David! David! We’re live!” the interviewer said to get my attention when they finished their commercial break.

I untangled myself and stepped over to where she wanted me to stand to talk to her.

“Sorry. We’re a little excited I won.”

“How does it feel to be the youngest Best Supporting Actor winner ever and to have won your first of what I suspect will be many Oscars?”

“Youngest?” I asked.

“Yes, the youngest before you was Timothy Hutton, who won for his role in Ordinary People. He was twenty years old when he won.”

“I don’t think age matters when you win one of these. It’s a great honor just to be nominated. For the top four awards, only 20 actors were selected. To win ... words can’t describe it,” I said.

“I understand you have a Netflix series coming out called College First.”

“Yes,” I said and changed my focus to promoting that project. “Netflix picked it up. It’s a Japanese drama that’s currently airing there. Word is they’re enjoying it. I understand that it will begin showing on Netflix this coming Friday. The miniseries is centered on a girl who experiences a lot of firsts. Her first time away from home, her first time at college, her first kiss, her first boyfriend. I hear it’s getting good reviews.”

“What is your role in that one?”

“I play the romantic runner-up. I worry that I might get typecast as that.”

“The romantic runner-up?”

“Yeah, I’m the sexy arm candy, but I don’t get the girl,” I complained. “I know that actors can make a career playing that kind of role. It’s like another film I’m in that’s wrapping up, Love Letters, where I play the same sort of character. I don’t want to keep being cast in that sort of role, though.”

“That sounds awful. Why wouldn’t you get the girl?” she asked.

“Halle ... Halle James, come over here,” I said, motioning for her to join us. “Explain to America why you don’t pick me as your guy in your latest movie.”

I made my best puppy-dog expression for both Halle and the camera.

She just started shaking her head.

“If we weren’t friends...” she started while scowling at me and then gave the reporter a winning smile. “As you can see, it’s obvious that he’s trouble. Girls need to be warned away from him. He pulls you in with his ‘aw shucks, I’m just a small-town good ol’ boy’ act. But then you find out he has both a brilliant mind and a wicked sense of humor. No girl should be subjected to that.”

“You know ... Rita James, Halle’s mom, is involved in that movie as well. I think she might be responsible for my not winning Halle over,” I said, motioning Rita towards me.

“What was your role in this new movie?” the reporter asked Rita when she joined us.

“I’m one of the producers,” Rita said. “Love Letters is a romantic comedy that stars these two, along with Ben Cowley, and will be in theaters this summer. You have to go see it if only to figure out why Halle had to pick Ben as her love interest.”

With that said, we were done.

“How do you get yourself into these situations?” Halle asked.

“I like to think it’s my wit and charm, but in this case, it might have been my big mouth,” I said with a ‘what can you do?’ shrug.

Rita had a different take on it.

“He was a genius! David plugged two projects to a worldwide audience. At some point, I’ll have to admit that he knows what he’s doing.”

Frank, Lexi, and Scarlet appeared. They must have been on standby in case I won. Frank guided me to numerous interviews. All the major entertainment TV shows had people there and wanted to talk to the winners. That was an hour of my life I would never get back, but Frank was all smiles once we were done. What I’d done to make him happy mystified me.

“Don’t have too much fun tonight,” was his parting advice.

The hotel adjacent to the theater where the Oscars took place had a large ballroom set up for the Governors Ball, the official Oscars after-party. Many of the nominees and their entourages were gathered there to get a drink before leaving for the unofficial after-parties. I walked in with my group and froze when everyone stopped talking for a moment as I entered the room.

If I’d learned anything from my dad, it was how to work a room, techniques that applied to such gatherings as after-parties. Never stay up front; the good stuff is always in the back. And always make a full sweep of the room before you stop to chat. Tonight, those lessons flew out the window. Instead of working the room, the room came to me.

Lexi again proved that she was the best PA in the world. She planted Halle James at my side and coordinated the people as they approached me. It felt like I was in a receiving line. Scarlet was put in charge of capturing everyone’s information with the nifty phone app that would scan their business card if they had one. Otherwise, she would enter their contact info by hand.

My parents and Rita James stood back and watched as the elite of the entertainment industry congratulated me. Many made reference to wanting to work with me someday.

My fifteen minutes of fame came to a screeching halt when Grace Moreau entered the room. She’d just won Best Actress, so I was no longer the new and shiny thing in the room.

My parents and Rita joined us.

“You do realize that your desire for a ‘normal’ senior year just took a major hit,” Dad said.

I looked at Rita, and she nodded her agreement.

I sighed. It was the whole notion of ‘unintended consequences.’ To this point, I’d been lucky that I lived in a small Midwestern town. While everyone knew me, they respected my privacy. In contrast, when I’d been in either New York or LA with people like Rita James or Adrienne, people would just walk up and ask for an autograph. Or want to have a picture taken with me. They considered that behavior okay. I had a feeling that winning the Oscar would change my life in that regard, maybe even in my hometown.

If I was unsure of that, all I needed was to remember the craziness after the video of Dad and me ‘stealing’ the Millennium Falcon was released. The Star Wars fans had come out in force. We’d ended up having to play our baseball games at State because of the crowds that stunt generated.

What was that little prayer? ‘God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.’ No matter how much I wished for ‘normal,’ I would have to accept that wasn’t going to be my lot from this point forward. Not if this crowd’s reaction was any indication.

That prayer helped me realize I wasn’t going to change how people reacted to me, so I might as well relax and enjoy the moment. I gave my dad a lopsided grin and shrugged.

“Which parties should we go to?” I asked.

I should have known that Lexi would have a complete list. She and Rita debated the pros and cons of each venue, while I just sat back and watched. The two of them decided that we had to go to the party that Gabe Francis was throwing. It would have been wrong on too many levels not to attend the party of the studio head who had worked behind the scenes to get me the win. Rita wanted to go to the party that the studio responsible for Star Academy and Love Letters was throwing.

Lexi said that her dad, Paul Andon, was in charge of organizing it. She admitted that he had ordered her to bring us. Rita, Halle, and I all agreed that we needed to at least make an appearance. We owed them that much because of what they’d done for us in helping move Love Letters to their studio after the unpleasantness with Zander.

Our final stop would be at Jess Geiger’s party. He was noted for having legendary parties where anything could happen. Halle had pushed for that party because they were ultra-exclusive, and she’d never been. I was happy that the parents all said they would skip that one.

Before we started our party tour, I needed to stop at the men’s room. I was standing at the urinal when the door opened, and Amelia Coe walked in and locked eyes with me. Funny how once my mind had unfrozen, I was able to remember her name. She’d announced my Oscar, after all.

“Out,” she ordered an older man washing his hands at the sink.

When he left, she locked the bathroom door, turned on me, and gave me a predatory smile. I may be naïve as to the ways of Hollywood, but I wasn’t born yesterday. There were only a couple of reasons a woman would walk into a men’s room and kick everyone else out. I suspected she wanted to have some sexy fun, not kill me. Not that I was complaining. If what I thought she wanted was about to happen, I was more than willing. Amelia was one of the top twenty women on my ‘if I ever got a chance... ‘ list.

Every guy has a top-twenty list of women he would like to spend quality time with. Mine was special. It was sort of a rolling list that changed every time I thought about it. There were times when someone like Joey, my trainer, was one through twenty. That happened when she would show up with her perky little ponytail and wearing shorts that were probably illegal in most states.

I digress. My point was that the top-twenty list changed. For example, Wolf had read that there were actual butt models on social media. He discovered that trolls discounted the veracity that the butts in question had not been Photoshopped. One girl had actually gone to a doctor to have him verify that her butt was every bit as gorgeous as her pictures showed. We had a long discussion at lunch, to Gina’s utter irritation, that this might be a viable business opportunity. The conversation then morphed into whose butts we should offer our services for. It didn’t take us long to put a list together.

Needless to say, at this moment, Amelia was right at the tippy top of my list of women I would like to...

I finished my business and began to put Mr. Happy away.

“No need for that,” she said as she stepped forward.

She pushed me against the wall and quickly had my member in her mouth to bring it to life. If this was the result of becoming an Academy Award winner, then I wanted many more.

She got me fully hard, stood up, pulled up her dress, and grabbed the sink, presenting her backside to me. Yep, Amelia was now on the butt list, too. I wanted to take a moment to admire her beautiful backside. We’d come up with a detailed process as to how we should check them for defects. From my cursory visual inspection, Amelia had a spectacular specimen.

“Hurry, we don’t have much time,” she ordered.

Luckily, the big brain was still somewhat working as I fished out a condom and put it on.

What occurred next was not my best work, but my best wasn’t what Amelia wanted. I grabbed her hips and did it hard and fast. She did say that we should hurry.

My mom spotted me leaving the bathroom with Ms. Coe.

“Hi, I’m Carol Dawson, David’s mom.”

“Oh, uh, hi.”

“May I ask what you and my son were doing?”

My usual MO would have been to pull a Dawson and clam up. In this case, I could tell my mom was just pulling Amelia’s chain. Between Greg and me, she had a pretty good idea of what either of her sons would have been doing in a locked bathroom with a girl.

“We need to get going,” I prompted.

“Uh, me too!” Ms. Coe said a little too excitedly and then bolted.

“That was rude. I was just getting to know her,” Mom said as she watched Amelia quickly leave, and then turned on me. “And you, Buster.”

I raised my hands in defeat.

“She made me do bad things,” I said in my little-boy voice.

My mom couldn’t help it, she burst out laughing. ‘Cute little David’ only worked when she was in a good mood. I knew I was okay at that point.

“I bet she did. You need to start using better judgment,” was her parting shot.

I took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Mom was right. Banging someone in a public bathroom was not the best idea I’d ever had. I was sure that at some point, we would discuss my wayward ways. Thankfully, we had a party to go to, and my mom was loving meeting all the celebrities. I was sure when she got home, Mrs. A would hear all about it.

Gabe Francis must have been told we were on the way up because when we walked in, the music stopped.

“David, get over here,” Gabe called.

Gabe’s party was being held on the roof of the Ritz Carlton, which was where their pool was. In one corner was a DJ, and along another wall was a buffet and bar. The view from the rooftop was of downtown LA, and off in the distance, you could see the hills. In my mind, it looked like a movie set. That only made sense, because that was what Gabe did.

When I got to Gabe, he wrapped me in a bear hug and slapped my back. He was as excited by my win as I was.

“David, on behalf of everyone at the studio, thank you. Thank you for the hell you went through and thank you for showing such surprising maturity and professionalism for someone so young.”

“I appreciate that you believed in me and gave me a chance,” I responded.

“I never had any doubts. You were my pick from the get-go, and you proved me right.”

“It wasn’t just me,” I said and pointed to people in the crowd. “You all had a hand in this.”

Gabe introduced me to his wife and then let me go talk to the other cast and crew from the movie. Many of them I hadn’t seen since Cuba. Halle accompanied me, and my two helpers, Lexi and Scarlet, tagged along. I made it a point to spend a few minutes with everyone.

Gabe had a photographer following me around, documenting the evening as I met the team. Maybe Lexi could get me copies so I could remember this evening.

Once we finally were done making the rounds, Scarlet shook her head.

“How did you learn all their names?”

“David taught me that if you got to know the crew and made friends with them, it would pay off. They generally would want to get the little things right that would make you look good in the movie,” Halle said. “Besides, that’s just him. If you haven’t noticed, he’s never met a stranger.”

“I thought I saw food,” I said to head off this conversation.

While I loved to be the center of attention, we were at a party. I wanted to eat and then drag someone out on the dance floor. I planned to experience the whole Hollywood rooftop party experience. It fit my life goal of ‘no regrets.’

If I thought the rooftop party was cool, what Paul Andon had organized was maybe even better. His studio was throwing their after-party at the Hollywood Museum, located in the historic Max Factor building. The museum was mostly focused on older cinema, with exhibits on Marilyn Monroe, Lucille Ball, Jean Harlow, and movies from that era, though they did have some more modern exhibits. And they had some even older ones, going back to silent films. There was a lot of memorabilia from some of the classic movies that were part of the DVDs Rita had given me, including costumes and props.

I could see that some of my friends wouldn’t be too excited about this place. But if you were any sort of movie buff, it was both educational and entertaining.

We’d barely begun to get the lay of the land when Bree Steno and Elizabeth Paul found me. They were two of my costars in the Star Academy movie.

“Congratulations,” Bree said as she gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “It didn’t take you long to let your award go to your head.”

The cast of Star Academy was known for its pranks. When we were in Canada, they’d convinced me that they were doing a lip-sync challenge. Turned out, it was just a way for them to haze me. With that in mind, I gave my two castmates a speculative look.

Elizabeth handed me her phone to show me that Amelia Coe had posted something on her social media site.

‘Just banged the sexiest actor in the bathroom at the Academy Awards. David A. Dawson is even hotter with his clothes off!’

I showed Lexi.

“On it,” she said and instantly had her phone to her ear, calling Frank.

“What is she thinking?” I asked.

“She either is looking to up her Q-score or isn’t thinking,” Bree said.

“Did you really?” Elizabeth asked.

I glanced over, and both Halle and Scarlet had unreadable looks on their faces. Crud!

My expression must have told on me because Halle threw a face.

“I need a drink,” she said and left me to talk to my castmates.

“Sorry. I didn’t realize you were a ‘real’ couple, or I wouldn’t have said anything in front of her,” Bree said.

I shrugged.

“Honestly, to the best of my knowledge, we’re still just good friends. We dated for a while, and I believe if we lived in the same town, it might be more,” I admitted.

“‘Stupid boy,’ you should go after her,” Scarlet prompted.

“I’d better...” I started, and both Bree and Elizabeth waved me off.

I spotted Halle as she entered the women’s room. Letting out a disgusted sigh, I hurried to follow her in. What was it with me and bathrooms tonight?

I found her looking into the mirror.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out.

She looked at me sadly and shook her head.

“No. I’m sorry,” she said as a woman came out of a stall and gave me a dirty look.

That was until she recognized me. Frick! Even when it was apparent that you were having an intense moment, people felt the need to get their picture taken with you. Frank was going to have a cow when she posted a bathroom photo of me with her. Halle must have thought it was funny because she volunteered to snap the shot.

When I finally got rid of my ‘biggest fan,’ I grabbed Halle and pulled her out of the bathroom. We found a quiet little alcove so we could talk without interruption for a moment.

“I knew better. I’m afraid I made this weekend more than it was,” Halle said.

“Halle, I feel awful. You do know that I care for you,” I said.

“I know, and I realize that we never said we were more than friends with benefits.”

“I don’t consider you a casual hookup,” I assured her.

“Look, David, I’m a big girl and have lived here all my life. The rules are different for people in this business.”

I thought back to this morning when actors who were married showed up for breakfast with someone other than their spouse, and no one even batted an eye. If that was any indication, the rules were indeed different for them. I also knew that back home, no ‘good girl’ would post that she ‘banged’ someone, either. Maybe Halle was right. The rules of normal behavior didn’t apply to celebrities in the bubble that was Hollywood.

“David, I know this isn’t how you normally act, and I don’t want you to think that I feel like you’re a Hollywood douche.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“This was me being oversensitive. Neither one of us promised that we were seeing only each other. If that were the case, I would have been upset about Mia luring you into her slutty plans,” Halle said with a half-smile.

“I do have more fun when you’re with me,” I said, waggling my eyebrows.

“Let me make you a deal. Tonight, do whatever you want, and don’t worry about me. If some A-list celebrity wants to drag you into a bathroom, do it. You only get a few nights in your life like this one, and it’s not right for you to be focused on worrying about me. I want you to let your freak flag fly and have some fun,” Halle suggested.

“Freak flag?”

“Bite me. I was on a roll.”

“Does that mean we can skip this place and go to Jess Geiger’s? I’m sort of over the corporate party scene. I doubt they would appreciate me ripping my shirt off and dancing on the bar,” I teased.

“There are probably some older ladies who would pay good money to see that.”

I kissed Halle.

“Think your mom would...” I said with one eyebrow raised and trailed off as I saw her expression. I had to grin at that. “Too soon?”

“Shut up and kiss me. I need to get the image of my mom putting dollar bills in your underwear out of my mind.”

All my castmates and crew from both The Secret Circle and Star Academy were there, so we didn’t get to leave as soon as I wanted to. I also had to talk to the studio execs, including Lexi’s dad, Paul.

My mom and dad and Rita and Stewart were having a good time, so they decided to stay. When I mentioned my invite to Jess Geiger’s after-hours party, both Ben Cowley and Zak Verwood announced I was taking them with me. Neither Isabel nor Bec looked too keen on the idea. If this party was as wild as advertised, I wouldn’t want my boyfriend anywhere near the place, were I them.

I let Scarlet and Lexi know that they could come if they wanted, but I didn’t expect them to work anymore tonight. Lexi had to deal with the Gwen meltdown tomorrow, so she said she would pass. I was happy when Scarlet decided to hang out with my parents at the museum party. She really was a smart girl.

Ben and Zak had used Uber, so they caught a ride with us.

“I heard this is like the Playboy Mansion on steroids,” Ben shared.

“It can’t be as good as the party David took me to where there were porn stars,” Zak said.

“Zip it,” I ordered.

It was obviously too late because Bec’s eyes narrowed.

“Porn stars?”

“That was for your friend’s bachelor party if I remember correctly,” Zak said.

“Dude! You are so going to be my best man,” Ben chirped.

“I didn’t know you were getting married,” I said.

“He’s not,” Isabel said. “At least, not to me.”

Her comment made them realize that their girlfriends were in the car.

“So, congrats on winning...” Zak started.

When we pulled up, there was security at the gate.

“Name?”

“David A. Dawson,” Manaia said.

“I need to see Mr. Dawson.”

He had a tablet with my picture displayed. He counted the number of people in the car and checked my invitation. I must have rated because he let us through after giving Manaia instructions that he could drop us off at the door. Manaia had to park in a lot across the street. I thought that was a great idea if you had a lot of parties. This way, the neighbors wouldn’t be pissed when cars lined the street. It also meant that drunks weren’t wandering around, peeing in their bushes.

When we walked to the front door, a young gal greeted us.

“Welcome, Mr. Dawson. Here is your key fob. It gives you access to room seven upstairs for your personal use. Wave the device in front of the keypad, and it will unlock the door. If you need anything, just push the button, and someone will be there. Do you prefer blonds, brunettes, or something different?” she asked.

Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! It sounded like the rumors about these parties were true. Party hos!

I noticed that Isabel and Bec grabbed their boyfriends’ hands to slow their roll. I looked at Halle and could tell she was trying very hard not to let on that that last question had bothered her.

“I’m good.”

She let us in with a nod as she noted my preference.

Jess Geiger had a mansion in the hills that rivaled Chubby’s place. But this place wasn’t designed to be lived in, it was set up to throw parties. The main floor was essentially a giant ballroom. The only other rooms on that floor were an eat-in kitchen, a man cave with numerous TVs, and bathrooms you might see in a nice restaurant or nightclub. It made a lot of sense to have multiple toilets and urinals for the crowd of people in attendance.

If I was going to survive this party, I needed a drink. We searched for the bar. Once I had a beer, I looked around and saw bad decisions being made all around me. Zak and Ben probably regretted bringing their girlfriends to this type of party. I wasn’t sure how I felt about Halle being here, but I knew I was glad that Lexi hadn’t come. My inner Alpha Male wouldn’t have reacted well if someone had hit on her.

We walked out back and found where the real party was. They’d strung white lights over the pool area to provide enough ambient light that you weren’t stumbling around. But there wasn’t so much that you couldn’t slip off at the edges of the yard if you needed some privacy. You could see couples taking advantage of the situation.

We walked through to the rear of the backyard and found a seating area that overlooked the valley behind the home. If it had been light enough, we could have probably seen the ocean off in the distance. I loved that they had an open gas fire pit in the middle of the small, isolated setting. In the background, you could hear the music pumping from the house. It was a comfortable place to sit down in relative quiet and reflect on what had happened today.

Halle sat on the couch next to me, and I put my arm around her. I’d noticed that she’d been talking to the other two girls as we wandered through the gathering. She giggled.

“I think that couple over there is having sex.”

I glanced where she was looking, and sure enough. Jess’s party didn’t disappoint if you were looking for no-holds-barred wildness. His parties were noted for their orgies. Frankly, I was surprised that more wanton behavior hadn’t broken out.

“You understand that it will only get worse,” I warned.

“The girls and I have been talking...”

Oh, boy.

“And?”

“Isabel knows about my thing for Ben...”

“And?”

“Well, you know about Isabel and Zak’s history.”

“Yes,” I said. “Isabel also has a history with me.”

“What’s your opinion of Bec?”

“I think she’s perfect for Zak and would never want to interfere in what they have,” I said.

“You’re just being difficult,” Halle said and slugged me in the arm.