The Fault

Chapter 3

Chapter 3Micah sat on his bed, with pillows behind his back and an open laptop on his lap looking alternately at the help wanted and the notice boards for theaters and independent film studios. He was listening to music through his set of headphones and he didn’t hear the knock on his door until a pause between songs. He removed them and set the computer to one side. Forrest called out from his side of the door.

“Hey, dude, can I come in for a minute?”

“Sure, what’s up?” Micah asked as Forrest entered and sat down next to him.

“How is the hunt for work going?”

“It’s going. I’ll have to pound the pavement some more tomorrow,” Micah answered, not wanting to go into details with Forrest that the only jobs he had seen just now were for experienced registered nurses, hair stylists with a following, or actors who could sing, and he couldn’t carry a tune. He glanced at his roommate, who looked as if he were trying to tell him something.

“Come on, Forrest, what’s on your mind?” Micah finally said. Forrest looked from the carpeting to a corner of the room, and then over at Micah.

“Trace asked me to talk to you.”

“He couldn’t call me himself? What’s up with that?”

“He would like to have dinner with you tonight at seven.” Forrest gave him a grin.

“I’ll go to dinner with him only if you agree to come with. You know him better than I do. Maybe he can give me some career advice, and we can at least be friends.”

“If it makes you feel better, then mother Forrest will chaperone.”

“Tell him to pick us up at seven,” Micah said. Forrest looked happy as he sprang off the bed and out of the room. Over the sound of the television, he could hear his roommate on the phone. Micah laid back on the pillows and closed his eyes.

Where are they planning on going for dinner, some place average or expensive?

Micah suddenly jumped out of bed and threw open the closet door, looking for something to wear. He finally chose his only pair of designer jeans and an olive-colored button-down shirt.

* * * *

Micah waited out in front of the building, watching the street lights come on one by one.

How convenient of Forrest to be sick at the last minute, Micah thought as he tapped his foot on the curb. He almost didn’t notice the dark blue Lexus pull to a stop in front of him and the electric window coming down.

“Hey, Micah.” A deep masculine voice called to him from within. Getting into the passenger seat next to him, he shut the door, and Trace pulled out into traffic.

“I’m happy it’s just the two of us. It’ll give us a chance to talk without Forrest jumping into our conversation. Let’s eat quickly so we can spend time getting to know each other.” Trace leered. Micah was silent and only answered with a smile.

“Have you known my roommate for a long time?” Micah asked to make conversation.

“Yeah, about six years or so. I was introduced to him through someone else. He told me you connected through Craigslist?”

“We did. Finding a roommate was better than staying in some rundown motel until I find work and get settled. He’s been a pretty decent guy so far…” Micah said, but Trace cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“I hope Forrest isn’t going to be part of our conversation for the rest of the night, because I don’t want to discuss him.”

The rest of the drive was filled in with small talk about weather and traffic. They would turn to stare at each other, smile faintly, and then fall silent again.

* * * *

Trace drove down Wilshire Boulevard to a steakhouse called Cut. The headwaiter showed them to a table along the wall, leaving them with a menu for wine and another for the food. Trace sighed, relieved about being seated at last.

“If you’re in a hurry to eat quickly, maybe we should have gone to Denny’s instead,” Micah said, getting only a faint grunt from behind the menu across the table. There were a few more grunts, and Trace’s fingers tapped on the table until a waiter came, and then he lowered the red leather wall that separated them. In the low-lit lamps of the dining room Micah looked closely at his companion while he gave orders to the waiter.

“I want the steak cooked medium rare, and the potatoes should be crispy and not soggy,” Trace was saying. The waiter turned to Micah next.

“I’ll have the Dove Sole.” The server nodded and walked away, leaving them alone.

“Well, dude, Forrest tells me you have acting ambitions. Tell me about it.”

“That’s why I came to LA, and I’ve been to the offices of a lot of agents around town and left my resume…”

“It’s tough in this town. You’re not a bad looking guy. Maybe you should try porn…I mean, hey, if all else fails.” Trace grinned. Micah tried not to look shocked or angry at the suggestion. He looked down the breadbasket and the plates on the white cloth in front of him. He pretended to smooth out a wrinkle.

“Thanks for the suggestion, but I don’t want to consider that option.”

“Then maybe I can help you out, dude, not with the dirty film industry, I mean. You know I have connections with the industry, and that always helps in LA.”

“You mean your parents do?” Micah asked, remembering what Forrest had told him about Trace’s family. Trace reached out, picked up a hunk of bread, dipped it in olive oil and chewed on it slowly, as if he were trying to come up with an answer.

“My dad is head of one of the biggest studios in Hollywood, and my mom used to be an actress herself. You remember Lucy Breckenridge?”

“The name sounds familiar. Wasn’t she in that comedy from the seventies or eighties about the army hospital or something?”

“That’s the one, good memory. I have connections through them, studio executives and whatnot, so maybe I can get you in, like I told you. I work at the studio myself in one of the offices,” Trace said. Micah tried not to show his excitement, because the tone of his companion’s voice told him that there was a price to be paid.

“Thanks, Trace, but I would rather get a job on my own merits and not through someone knowing someone and all…”

“Then you may never get work, dude, so quit being so high and mighty and let me help you out right now. Here comes the dinner, so relax and enjoy,” Trace said. Micah sat back in the chair and tried to eat, although he had no appetite.

The meal progressed in silence between them, except that Trace returned the steak twice for being undercooked and the potatoes for not being done to his specifications. Micah was glad when they were at last back in the car.

“Let’s go somewhere and get comfortable. How about my place?” Trace asked over the hum of the car engine. “Come on, dude. I’m not a stranger. We’ll talk about your acting experience, have a cocktail or two, and then I’ll take you home. Scout’s honor,” Trace said with a faint smile on his lips.

“I have to be up early tomorrow. There’s still some more agencies where I want to drop off my resume, and I have to look for a job.” Micah faked a couple of yawns for emphasis. Trace grunted and swore under his breath, and finally he stepped on the gas pedal.

“Alright, dude, I’ll take you home.” Trace sounded disappointed, and Micah could see the scowl on his face.

“Thank you for dinner. I really appreciate it. Maybe we can talk some other time.”

“Some other time, meaning that you might go out with me again?”

“I didn’t say that, so don’t fill in the blanks. Maybe when I’ve settled down here in LA…we can hang out with Forrest,” Micah said. Trace seemed satisfied with the answer, and he drove on in silence until they reached the apartment complex where Micah lived.

“Good night, Trace,” Micah said as he undid the seatbelt and prepared to open the car door. Trace stopped him. He looked as if he were going to say something, but instead he swore under his breath before he replied with.

“Night, dude…” Trace gripped the steering wheel tightly. Micah could see his knuckles turning white even in the dark. On the curb he paused, looking into the car. Trace was staring at him with a frown, his eyes glistening, and he nodded his head.

* * * *

Forrest was still awake, sitting in front of the television and playing a video game; he put the game on pause when Micah came in.

“So how did it go tonight? Will I hear wedding bells or anything?” Forrest angled himself on the sofa to face Micah. He lifted an eyebrow, curious.

“We went to a nice restaurant in Beverly Hills, we talked about my career, and then he brought me home. Don’t run out to buy your bridesmaid’s dress yet.”

“Damn, always a bridesmaid.” Forrest laughed. Micah moved further into the room, going over to a small bar where he poured himself a glass of wine. He sat down on the couch next to Forrest.

“You’re a goof, dude. I’m surprised that you didn’t hit the bars tonight?” Micah asked, curious, because Forrest had come home with someone the past three nights. Forrest reached for the glass of wine and took a sip, handing it back to Micah.

“Curiosity got the best of me, and I just wanted to be here.”

“Trace wanted me to go back to his place to discuss my career,” Micah said, speaking softly into the wine glass.

“Damn. I would have jumped on that train before it left the station. Why didn’t you go?” Forrest grinned, and Micah shook his head.

“I don’t know, maybe because I really should be thinking about other things, like finding work and getting a foothold in this town.”

“Trace is offering you a valuable connection, and you’re worried about your virginity. You’re incredible, dude.” Forrest laughed, and he reached for the wine glass once again. Micah watched him, arms folded, as he chugged the rest of the liquid. He got up and went into his bedroom a minute later. While he stripped off his clothing, he thought about what just passed in the living room. Throwing off his shirt, he stopped to look in the mirror.

“My virginity or lack thereof is none of Forrest’s business. He’s only been my roommate for a few weeks, so let him think and do what he wants. I’ve been with guys before. There was Mark in high school and Jack in college, and I dated Willie my entire senior year. They were great guys and the s*x was good. I just want it to mean something when it happens again. As for Trace, he’s handsome, but he seems like the Rock of Gibraltar and about as interesting. There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?” Micah sighed and proceeded to remove his pants and get ready for bed. Climbing under the covers, he lay on his back staring at the ceiling.