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PROLOGUE
VICTOR
It’s late morning when I finally decide to leisurely get out of bed.
The blonde girl lying beside me doesn’t stir when I move. She is fast asleep – her breathing a mere soft brush against my bare skin. I don’t give her a second’s thought as I slide out from the bedcovers and stand up tall to stretch.
I’m naked. I don’t care if the world sees me like this, and for good reason. I spot myself in the hotel suite mirror and smile to myself.
Yeah, I really don’t give a shit about the world seeing me when I look like this.
I can’t help but admire the simple fact that my body is something special: I possess a physique primed and ready to grace the front covers of magazines. I have a well-defined six-pack. Perfect pecs. Bulging biceps. It has taken a lot of time and effort in the gym to have a body such as this – my Penmayne family genetics also helps a hell of a lot in that department.
I let out a long yawn of an unhurried man and glance back at the blonde girl in the bed. She’s still wearing makeup. She’s still fast asleep.
God, I can hardly remember her.
I do remember she was good in the sack, though. Very satisfying. I had a good night, and it is evident, with her still in deep sleep, that she did as well.
Yeah, we got drunk as hell last night.
Rubbing my tired eyes, I stumble through into the main living room of the penthouse hotel suite and pour myself a coffee. As with many things in life, I like my morning brewstrong. I like the extreme.
I’ve been staying here, in this luxurious suite, for a few days now. Truth be told, I can’t remember exactly what city I’m actually in. I don’t really care to find out. My life is one of constant international travel, so I’m always in and out of different countries and different hotel suites and different cars and different women. It all becomes one blur.
The life of a world-famous actor...
Taking a sip of the hot coffee, I switch on the TV. There’s some news show playing – a hum of boring chatter and a flash of colorful graphics. I barely pay any attention to it as I stroll around the space, stretching out my arms and trying to wake the hell up.
It must be midday.
Ha. There’s nothing on for me today. No obligations. No responsibility. No work. That’s the benefit of earning enough dough to fill a football stadium, and from having a billionaire family. With no stresses of cash-flow, I have all the time – and the confidence - in the world.
The news show changes to a commercial break.
And then something familiar starts playing.
I don’t even have to look at the screen to know it’s the trailer for the new movie I’m in. An action-drama flick. I sigh and glance over to the TV.
Might as well catch a look at myself in action.
I’m wearing a tuxedo. My black hair is slicked back. My blue eyes are vibrant. There is a closeup of my face as I deliver a line in my deep, resonating voice – my sharp cheekbones and visible Adam’s apple on full display.
That is why I’m paid the big bucks.
I punch a guy. There’s an explosion. I say something incredibly clever to a gorgeous woman.
It’s all very... Hollywood.
I do all my own stunts.
And it’s sure to be the big multiplex hit of the summer.
Even with my vanity, I can’t bear to watch myself any longer. I turn away.
And I remember what happened yesterday, and the phone call I got that kick-started a night of debauchery - my agent called me and let me know I wasn’t nominated this year for the biggest acting award in showbiz. That phone call cut me hard. Getting that award is the biggest goal in my life. It’s why I got into acting in the first place. It’s the only thing I have my eyes set on.
And I didn’t even get freaking nominated.
