Chapter 13: Resentment

The weekend in Yosemite never materialized since Mel had to visit a director on location in Arizona. It went on from there. After two weeks, Mel did not even apologize anymore. If he was lucky she told him when she'd be back from wherever she was going, if not he would spend days without hearing from her.

It was a painful process for David, but after four weeks he had to accept that the fairy tale was over. Mel was back to being an actress and David increasingly felt like somebody who had overstayed his welcome. Josh noticed the growing rift and offered to speak to Melanie, but David insisted that he did not want a Melanie around who did not want to be around him.

It was early May when he had lunch with Carl Packer, his former roomy at USC. Carl was still alone in their old room, but the resident was starting to make noises. When Carl spoke with regret about their good time together before the accident, David suddenly thought he had a solution. If he moved out of the garden house, he would send a strong signal to Mel, and he would send it as an equal who was not dependent on her. It took David all of two hours to talk to the resident and be assigned his old room and his old roomy.

He and Carl made plans for David to move on the next weekend, and David began to sort his belongings. He decided to leave everything that was not really his, so he only packed his old clothes, his sports gear, and his books. The fancy laptop – given to him by Mel early on – he stripped of his data and purchased a new one using a small part of the settlement money.

Come the Saturday, David had not heard from Melanie. Josh was actually visiting Judy over the weekend, and David moved out without anybody noticing except for Mrs. Ling who fussed over him and made sure he had enough to eat over the weekend. Once everything was stowed in Carl's huge old station wagon, David left his keys and the fancy smartphone on the living room table, on an envelope addressed to Melanie. He had spent two hours on the evening before writing that letter and he hoped that she could understand and accept his motives.

Melanie was tired and angry, sitting across from the two producers in a hotel room in Vegas. They had given her the run-around, scheduling the meeting first in Denver, then in Chicago, and now in Vegas. Something was wrong but Melanie could not spot it. They had been very eager to come to an agreement with her, but the longer the negotiations went, the more other projects proved to be unsatisfactory, the more Melanie wanted to get the role, the more evasive the producers became.

Now she had them on the other side of the conference table and she wanted to leave the place with a decision either way.

"Look, you guys have been stringing me along for five weeks. Give me the beef now. Do you want me or not? I'm tired of your spiel."

Joel Brennan, the younger of the two, gave her an amused smile.

"Impatient? From what I hear you don't have that many alternatives anymore. Mel, this is an investment for us. We must be certain that you can carry that series. Plus, your payment demands are a bit on the high side."

"For real, Joel?" Mel shot back. "I'm asking for the same money you're giving to Dennis Tanner."

"He's the lead."

"Yes, but he's essentially a newbie. His background is a deodorant commercial. No way I'm getting paid less than any other cast member."

The other guy, Derek Robinson, now spoke up. "There's more. Your last role was a broken girl, a victim. We must know if you can play somebody who's self-assured, even a bit sexy."

Mel shrugged. "Sure I can and you know it. You wouldn't have contacted me if you didn't."

"Well, maybe we know," Robinson said with regret. "But the money people are not convinced. We were thinking, maybe you could come out to the set for a little – umh, audition? We could have one of the leads there and see how you mesh."

Mel was just drinking water and almost shot it through her nose. "An audition?" she asked sarcastically. "With whom?"

"Ron Wolfson," Joel explained.

"I have no dialogue scene with Wolfson," Mel returned. Ron Wolfson was an older, former "A list" actor who was slated to play the Greek king Agamemnon, the father of Melanie's character Iphigenia.

"Well, the script writers came up with a few additional scenes to boost your presence. You know, in part to justify your pay demands. There is one scene where you try to seduce your father to sway his will."

Mel smelled a rat immediately. She had learned a few things in her years shooting films with sleazy producers. "Seduce him? How?"

"Well, there's partial nudity and some kissing. We just need to know if you can pull it off. You know Ron, don't you? His word has weight with the money people."

Melanie nodded to herself. That was it. Wolfson had a reputation as a predator of young costars. This audition was only about giving the aging actor a chance to bag Melanie. She gave the two men a cold smile.

"You idiots can keep fantasising, but I'm outta here. No way I'm going to let that old bastard slobber all over me. Come Monday, Variety will have this story and you clowns can explain my dropping out to your money people."

She got up to leave but Joel blocked her path. "Not so quick, girlie! We flew you here on our money and..."

Melanie closed her hand around a small deodorant can in her handbag and raised it.

"Bad investment I guess. Now get out of my way unless you want to get pepper-sprayed!"

She saw the fear in his face, and he stepped aside quickly. In spite of her anger, Melanie had to hide a smile. What a chicken! Without another look at the two men, she left the suite. She did not even wait for the elevator in the mood she was in but took the stairwell. Stupid heels! She stopped briefly to take them off and continued barefooted until she reached the lobby level.

Not ten minutes later, she was on her way to the airport. The next hour saw her busy getting on the next flight to LA, and she was able to snag a seat in coach. She did not mind. Being small had its advantages and she did not need First Class for her ego. Her ego had other problems.

While waiting for the flight, she took stock. In the six weeks after the damned Oscar, she had been given the run-around by at least five producers. They all promised the greatest movie ever, a certain Oscar nomination, and points off the "adjusted gross earnings", but digging into the projects had always turned up warts. Uncertain financing, unacceptable co-stars, impossible shooting schedules, and now an outright sexual harassment attempt. The worst was the realization that in spite of her stellar performance in Heart of Glass, the old boys still saw her as a cute piece of ass, a candy offered to investors or to aging stars. No fucking respect!

She had invested so much, had put her relationship with David on hold, and now she stood with empty hands. Maybe staying in the business was not such a good idea. The happiness that she had felt over the winter, the feeling of achievement, and the love for David were replaced with the old bitterness again.

Fuck them! Fuck them all! If they could not give her respect, she would not play their game. Sitting in the airport terminal in Las Vegas, Melanie wrote an email and addressed it to all the producers with whom she had negociated. In effect she called off all negotiations and stated that she had decided to pursue her education instead. Fuck them!

She also tried to call David on his cell and over the land line in the garden house. No answer. She was a little worried. It was not like David not to answer his phone. Then again, she had no idea what his plans were for the weekend. Josh was in Montana with Judy. Maybe David had decided to tag along. Guiltily she realized that she had not even told him where she went and when she'd be back. He had every right to be pissed off, especially after she had delayed their special night together time and again.

Well, that would change. Come Monday, she would concentrate on her two priorities – David and her courses. It was with that thought that she switched her cellphone into flight mode and boarded.

The big house was completely dark as expected, but so was the garden house. Melanie was glad for the security guy who accompanied her up the garden path and checked the house before she entered.

"All clear, Miss Renault. Have a good evening."

"Thank you, Raymond. Have you seen David?"

"No, Miss Renault. Albert told me though that he left with a fellow student after carrying out some boxed items this morning."

Melanie was slightly bemused. "Thanks, good night," she offered and stepped into the house. She switched on the living room lights and immediately saw the letter in the middle of the couch table, with a set of keys and David's blinking smartphone. Melanie felt apprehension when she saw her name on the envelope and her fingers were unsteady when she opened it. There was a sheet of paper in it in David's handwriting.

Melanie read the letter again, trying to understand. She knew that she had neglected David, but to pack his stuff and leave without even giving her warning? Moving into the dorms? She saw the phone number and dialed it. David answered after the third ring.

"Hey, Mel. I take it you're home."

"David, what is this about? I come home and you're gone, just like that! What were you thinking?"

She heard him sigh. "I'm thinking that I'm sick and tired of the situation. You know, I didn't even know where you were and when you'd be back, always assuming that you wouldn't have to fly to some other place first. Mel, I like you too much. I don't ever want to hate you, but in the last weeks you've made that hard for me. I'm putting some distance between us for my own good and for yours."

"And you couldn't tell me?"

"How? We did not spend one hour by ourselves in the last three weeks. Ever since you sent me home from the Oscars, I had zero chances to talk to you. Even when you were at home, you were busy on the phone or emailing or reading scripts."

"David, please come back. Let's talk."

"Let me guess – we can spend a weekend in Yosemite?"

"That was low!" she shot back. "You're pissed off because you didn't get to fuck me?" she gave back, herself now trying to inflict hurt.

"I was never going to "fuck" you."

The connection broke and Melanie stared at the phone in her hand. Her first impulse was to call again, but she realized in time that neither of them was in a mindset for a reasonable argument. David was lashing out at her. He must be deeply hurt, but so felt she over his moving out.

For a moment, she felt the temptation to call the driver and go to a club, but she realized the danger she was in. To give in to temptation now would not bring David back, but only her old misery. She stared accusingly at the small golden statuette over the fireplace. For a moment she wished she'd never won it.

Rejoining the ranks of the ordinary students came easy to David. He could now walk longer distances and the more he walked, the easier it became. He even went out in the evenings to attend impromptu concerts and information events.

One evening in late May, he was at an event where a number of foreign countries presented their education systems, as part of an effort to promote academic exchange. David went there with his roommate Carl, but then he became engrossed with the presentation by the Spanish consulate official. University education was basically free of cost in Spain, even for foreign students. There were scholarships available for travel, while housing and food were supposedly cheap by LA standards.

The consulate agent even showed a few of the more prominent universities. Seeing the images, David became fascinated with the city of Granada, situated under the snow-capped peaks of the Sierra Nevada mountain range. He asked a few questions and when the event ended, he cornered the consulate lady to ask some more.

A day later, he had almost forgotten the whole foreign exchange business. He had woken up late and had to rush to the hospital to make it in time. Come noon, he was as hungry as a bear and he cursed his impediment trying to rush over to the cafeteria. Standing in line at the cash register to pay for his sandwich and coffee, his glance wandered over the three or four newspapers on display and his hunger vanished in a heartbeat.