“Hey there, boyfriend,” she says.
I dodge back as she stumbles into the room. She puts one hand on the door, keeping it open.
“What are you doing here?” I ask her.
She pouts at me. I guess she decided she needed to get fucking wasted tonight, too. Unfortunately, she beat me to it, and now I’m dealing with the consequences.
“I can’t come and see my boy toy?” she asks me, slurring her words.
“We’re not really dating,” I say to her. “You need to leave.”
“Don’t be such a fucking prude, Jackson.” She stumbles into the room and walks over to where I left my half-finished glass. She picks it up and sips it. “Oh, nice,” she says.
I sigh and shut the door. I don’t want anyone to see her here, but I can’t just throw her out. That’ll only make the situation worse. She’s drunk enough that I’m afraid she’ll make a scene, so I need to be a little diplomatic.
“Go ahead, finish it if you want,” I say to her.
“Why are you always so cold?” she asks me, coming over.
“You know why,” I say to her.
She stops and bats her eyes at me, doing the most pathetic seductive look I’ve ever seen. “Come on, don’t you think I’m cute?” she asks.
“You’re pretty, Holly, but you know why I’m not into this.”
“That fucking script girl.” She sounds genuinely angry.
“It’s not her fault. She told me you were pretty nasty on set today.”
“So what? Fuck that bitch. I want to feel that big action star cock in my fucking mouth, Jackson, and she’s in my way.”
I stare at her and she grins back. I’m actually a little disgusted by how drunk she is. “You need to stop,” I say. “Don’t take this shit out on Tara.”
“Fuck Tara,” she says, throwing the rest of the drink back down her throat. “She’s a fucking bitch.” She drops the glass on the ground and stumbles over to the kitchen area.
“There’s nothing else here,” I say. “You drank the last of it.”
“Well, whatever,” she says, rummaging through a cabinet. “You’re not going to fuck me tonight. Might as well get fucking drunk, right?”
“Holly, stop,” I say to her. I walk over and grab her by the shoulders, pulling her away from the kitchen.
“Oh, there’s my big strong man,” she says, stumbling along.
“Go to your room,” I say to her. “There’s something to drink there. We can talk tomorrow.”
“I don’t want to talk to you, you big dumb piece of meat. I want to fuck you.” She turns and tries to throw her arms around me again.
I dodge around her again, catching her as she stumbles. “Okay,” I say as she sways, off balance. I hold her against me and toss her arm over my shoulder. “You’re okay.”
That last bit of whisky must have put her over the edge. “Come on, pussy, fuck my pussy,” she slurs and laughs at herself.
“Another time,” I say, walking with her to the door. “Come on, I’ll get you back to your room.”
“And then you’ll fuck me,” she replies.
I sigh and get the door open. I walk with her out into the hall, and although someone might see me with her, I can’t help it. I can’t leave her alone when she’s this fucking drunk. She’s crazy and a pain in the ass but she’s still a person, and I’m not the type of guy to leave her alone.
I get her to the end of the hallway and hit the elevator up button. I know she has a room on the twentieth floor, while I’m down on the nineteenth. I don’t think she can do stairs right now, so elevator it is.
“Your biceps are big,” she mumbles and giggles. “I’m drunk.”
“Yes, you are,” I say, sighing. This is not how I wanted to spend my night.
The doors ding and slide open. Mercifully, the elevator is empty. I get her inside and hit the twentieth floor button. The doors slide shut and Holly leans up against me.
“I hate acting,” she slurs. “You know that? It’s so stupid.”
I’m pretty surprised. Holly is a good actress, despite her insane personality. Acting seems like the perfect gig for her.
“Why do you do it?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“’Cos I’m pretty and I want to be famous,” she says. “Why the fuck else would I do this?” She looks up at me like she’s annoyed.
“Right, good point,” I say.
“God, you are so stupid,” she says and reaches up to stroke my cheek. I knock her hand away and she pouts. “But so pretty.”