Two silent flashes behind me briefly illuminate the side of the building and when I turn around that's when I notice a black Mercedes double-parked on Orange Grove, the flashes coming from the open window on the passenger side, and then the window rolls up. A vague realization: someone was taking pictures of me standing in front of Rain and Amanda's apartment. Shaking, I ignore the car and slowly move away from the apartment and walk down the street to the idling BMW. I get in. I pull away from the curb. I roll up Orange Grove past the Mercedes, which then starts following me as I pull up to Fountain and make a left. So does the black car. I gun the BMW forward but in the rearview mirror the Mercedes keeps up, veering in and out of lanes. I floor the accelerator in order to make the light and swerve onto La Cienega. The Mercedes makes the light too, its tires screeching against the wet asphalt. I stop at the light on Holloway, the high beams of the black car pressing against the BMW, and then take a right on Santa Monica, trying to act casual, as if I'm suddenly unaware of the Mercedes. But it follows me back to the Doheny Plaza and when I valet the BMW I pretend not to see the Mercedes as it cruises around the corner onto Norma Place, slowing as I turn and walk into the lobby, and I only hear it speed away.
In the condo, shaking and wet, holding a glass of vodka with both hands in the darkness of the balcony, storms sweeping over the city, I'm watching the black Mercedes cruise back and forth on Elevado and then I get a text from a blocked number - Hey gringo, you can't hide - accompanied by a winking smiley face, and that night I dream about the boy, the same dream that Rain had but now the boy, beautiful and shirtless, has moved from the kitchen into the living room and I keep asking him, "Who are you?" and for some reason he's gesturing at me, the muscles in his arms and chest straining, and as he moves closer I can see the tattoo of a dragon on his forearm and there's blood in the boy's hair and when I stumble into the guest bathroom in the middle of the night, scattering a few of Rain's things that line the sink, I turn on the lights, and in the mirror above the counter, written in something red, are two words: DISAPPEAR HERE.
Another awards party, this one at Spago, and though there's always the risk of seeing someone you don't want to I'm beyond caring and since Rain isn't coming over until tomorrow I find myself standing in the main dining room accidentally stuck in a conversation with Muriel and Kim who don't ask me why I wasn't at the party for Alana at Blair's and after a photographer takes a picture of the three of us they move away, and it's okay that Trent and Blair are in the courtyard because neither one of them will talk to me since there are too many people at the party tonight. Daniel Carter keeps smiling impatiently at me and though I don't want Daniel to come over, Meghan Reynolds doesn't seem to be around and there's nothing to do but stand still and Daniel and I are both wearing James Perse T-shirts and expensive one-button blazers and he asks about The Listeners and I tell him that I liked his movie, that I was at the premiere in December, and then we're talking about how big the new Friday the 13th opened and discussing how a particular special effect was accomplished while Daniel keeps craning his neck, raising his eyebrows at someone across the room and smiling.
"Looks like you got some sun there," Daniel says, gesturing at my reddened face.
"Yeah," I say. "You know me: I get burned easily."
"You've been in New York, right?" Daniel asks. "How long are you here? I heard you were back at Doheny."
"I don't know how long I'm back," I say. "New York seems ... over."
"And this place is ... ?" Daniel asks, waiting for me to complete the sentence.
"Happening." I shrug. "I'm a different person now." I put on a fake smile.
"Please don't tell me you're thinking of moving back," he says. "Fuck, if I could get out of here ... "
And then Meghan comes up to us and leans slightly into Daniel and says "Hi, Clay" and if I weren't drunk I wouldn't have been able to stand being here and I had forgotten how Meghan looks close-up and it shocks me like it always did and I have to pretend nothing's wrong. Meghan gazes at me indifferently and my fake smile is a rebuke that lets her know I'm glad she's come to terms with all the things she'd done to me, and near the end of everything I had begged her to run away from this place and we were sitting at a sushi bar on Ventura Boulevard in Studio City and it was summer and I remember seeing a child actor who had been famous once and was now considered old at thirty-three, sitting at the far end of the sushi bar while Meghan kept hinting that it was over between us. Now, in Spago, I have no idea what Meghan has told Daniel about me even though she has a role in his next movie. She mentions she'd seen me at a screening I wasn't at, and I suddenly remember pacing outside the ER at Cedars-Sinai apologizing to her on the Fourth of July.
