Love Unscripted
Page 99
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The host rolled right into asking those standard questions about his latest movie and I laughed when he asked Ryan to tell everyone what the movie is about. He shook his head as he smiled and I could, as clear as a bell, hear the comments that were being made in his subconscious. He was right - every one of these talk shows was identical.
It was after the first commercial break when the host got to the million-dollar question – was he dating anyone. I flew off the couch and stood right in front of the TV, dying to know how he would handle answering.
Ryan’s eyes looked down for a second and he chuckled a bit to himself. As he looked up at the camera he shook his head and stated with a dead-on poker face, “No, I’m not seeing anyone. I really don’t have time to even talk to anyone.”
And then he did it. With a cocky smirk on his lips, he raised his right hand and rubbed his fingers down his nose. His fingers then completed the motion by rubbing and scratching his chin.
Just then I broke out into my own private hysterics.
It was still early in the morning when Ryan called. He had just finished the interview and had some spare time before having to head to another studio to have his picture taken repeatedly.
“What are you doing now?” I asked while lounging in bed.
“Being photographed and filmed while walking down the sidewalk,” he groaned. “It is exciting news, you know, that I can walk in a straight line.
Damn…” he breathed out.
“What?” I froze.
“Ahh, I just dropped the papers I had in my hand. Great, they’re taking pictures of me picking crap up off the sidewalk. Yeah, hi, thanks, just one day.”
I could hear the crowd around him asking questions and he was giving them quick answers. People were asking for his autograph over and over again and to take their picture with him.
“You’ve been here since two a.m.? You’re crazy!” I heard him say to a female fan. “Tar – hang on a second.”
“Ryan, Ryan can I get a picture with you too?” “Ryan over here.” It sounded like he was getting mobbed.
I heard what sounded like his security team instructing the crowd to back up and give Mr. Christensen some space. “No, you already got one from him,” I heard a man’s voice say.
“Why do you want me to sign this? It will ruin it!” Ryan asked some fan. I heard some girl’s voice begging him.
“Okay, you already got two autographs,” the unknown male voice instructed again.
Eventually I heard a car door slam and he breathed out a sigh of relief.
“Marla, would you please hand me that soda. Thanks. All right, now I can talk again. Sorry. This is unbelievable,” he muttered. “Are you still there?”
“Yeah, I’m still here.”
“I can’t believe that girl wanted me to sign her violin! I should have said no.”
I heard a woman’s voice in the background talking to Ryan.
“Hey, it’s not my problem if that’s not her violin. And if it’s damaged now, that’s not my fault. Can I refuse to sign stuff if it’s not a picture or a book or something?”
I couldn’t make out what the woman said to Ryan.
“Can you imagine what David would say to me if he got a bill for a violin? Your client ruined my Stradivarius!”
I scrambled for something to say. “Hey, did you ever get a birthday gift for your mom?” I asked, remembering the circumstances that led to the day we first met.
“No. Shit… thanks for reminding me. I completely forgot.”
“Well while you’re in New York, I’m sure you can find something nice there. Either that or you can find something here.”
“It doesn’t matter. What should I get her?”
“Anything a man would hate to have to pick out on his own?” I joked with him. “I don’t know… jewelry, perfume, a new purse? What do you think she’d appreciate?”
“Jewelry,” he replied. “I’ve never gotten my mom perfume. I’m allergic to most of them. Let me take care of this now while I’m thinking of it. I have a dinner meeting at seven. I’ll call you after that.”
“Okay. Have fun.” I was sad to hang up with him.
Later that evening, Marie flipped through the channels on the TV until she found the evening entertainment news. My attention was captured when, in the first minute of the show, they ran over the highlights of what was to come in tonight’s episode and Ryan’s picture was flashed on the screen.
I turned up the volume when his story was featured.
It was after the first commercial break when the host got to the million-dollar question – was he dating anyone. I flew off the couch and stood right in front of the TV, dying to know how he would handle answering.
Ryan’s eyes looked down for a second and he chuckled a bit to himself. As he looked up at the camera he shook his head and stated with a dead-on poker face, “No, I’m not seeing anyone. I really don’t have time to even talk to anyone.”
And then he did it. With a cocky smirk on his lips, he raised his right hand and rubbed his fingers down his nose. His fingers then completed the motion by rubbing and scratching his chin.
Just then I broke out into my own private hysterics.
It was still early in the morning when Ryan called. He had just finished the interview and had some spare time before having to head to another studio to have his picture taken repeatedly.
“What are you doing now?” I asked while lounging in bed.
“Being photographed and filmed while walking down the sidewalk,” he groaned. “It is exciting news, you know, that I can walk in a straight line.
Damn…” he breathed out.
“What?” I froze.
“Ahh, I just dropped the papers I had in my hand. Great, they’re taking pictures of me picking crap up off the sidewalk. Yeah, hi, thanks, just one day.”
I could hear the crowd around him asking questions and he was giving them quick answers. People were asking for his autograph over and over again and to take their picture with him.
“You’ve been here since two a.m.? You’re crazy!” I heard him say to a female fan. “Tar – hang on a second.”
“Ryan, Ryan can I get a picture with you too?” “Ryan over here.” It sounded like he was getting mobbed.
I heard what sounded like his security team instructing the crowd to back up and give Mr. Christensen some space. “No, you already got one from him,” I heard a man’s voice say.
“Why do you want me to sign this? It will ruin it!” Ryan asked some fan. I heard some girl’s voice begging him.
“Okay, you already got two autographs,” the unknown male voice instructed again.
Eventually I heard a car door slam and he breathed out a sigh of relief.
“Marla, would you please hand me that soda. Thanks. All right, now I can talk again. Sorry. This is unbelievable,” he muttered. “Are you still there?”
“Yeah, I’m still here.”
“I can’t believe that girl wanted me to sign her violin! I should have said no.”
I heard a woman’s voice in the background talking to Ryan.
“Hey, it’s not my problem if that’s not her violin. And if it’s damaged now, that’s not my fault. Can I refuse to sign stuff if it’s not a picture or a book or something?”
I couldn’t make out what the woman said to Ryan.
“Can you imagine what David would say to me if he got a bill for a violin? Your client ruined my Stradivarius!”
I scrambled for something to say. “Hey, did you ever get a birthday gift for your mom?” I asked, remembering the circumstances that led to the day we first met.
“No. Shit… thanks for reminding me. I completely forgot.”
“Well while you’re in New York, I’m sure you can find something nice there. Either that or you can find something here.”
“It doesn’t matter. What should I get her?”
“Anything a man would hate to have to pick out on his own?” I joked with him. “I don’t know… jewelry, perfume, a new purse? What do you think she’d appreciate?”
“Jewelry,” he replied. “I’ve never gotten my mom perfume. I’m allergic to most of them. Let me take care of this now while I’m thinking of it. I have a dinner meeting at seven. I’ll call you after that.”
“Okay. Have fun.” I was sad to hang up with him.
Later that evening, Marie flipped through the channels on the TV until she found the evening entertainment news. My attention was captured when, in the first minute of the show, they ran over the highlights of what was to come in tonight’s episode and Ryan’s picture was flashed on the screen.
I turned up the volume when his story was featured.
