Perfect Romance

Author: Janet (SkyGirl5)

Genre: S/V, AU

Summary: Actress extraordinaire, Sydney Bristow, leads a lonely secluded life in Los Angeles. Except for her internet romance, that is. Then again, it's not and internet romance since she is dead set against them. Still, she feels connected to her online "friend" Michael more than she can describe and wonders if maybe, just maybe, the two of them would mesh just as perfectly in real life. If he didn't turn out to be an axe murderer, that is. [30]

Disclaimer: Sydney, Vaughn, etc are properties of JJ Abrams and ABC.

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Chapters 1-10 // Chapters 11 - 20 // Chapters 21-30 + Epilogue

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Chapter 1




Sydney Bristow: An Extreme Diva?

A Star Exclusive Interview with Jilted Ex-Employee
“You just have no idea how terrible it was working for her,” sobs the woman formerly under the employment of one Sydney Bristow, one of Hollywood’s hottest stars. “I mean, if her water was not exactly forty degrees, she would freak! Her tongue must have been a thermometer in something because if it was forty-two degrees she would throw it at me and demand new, colder water. Even worse was how she always had to have sunflower seeds at her every whim – if she didn’t have them, she was a down right bitch!”
Could it be that this Oscar winner, once deemed to be America’s Sweetheart, has an inner mean streak?
“Oh yeah,” the former employee, who wishes to remain nameless, tells Star exclusively. “She’s a total bitch, not at all like she appears on TV.”
Bristow isn’t the only actress whose demands are extreme. Star has reported on other occasions the outlandish requests of Jennifer Lopez, Reese Witherspoon, and even the Olsen twins. Why is it that these women feel as though they can ask for whatever their heart’s desire? Simple really.
“It’s all about power. Before her Best Actress win she was never this way. Now she’s just doing it because she can.”

“Why do they keep this crap in here? I mean, don’t they know how much celebrities hate tabloids?! They’re practically suing them every other day…,” Sydney Bristow sighed with disgust as she pushed the pile of Star and Us Weekly away from her. She would have thought the greenroom of the Late Show with David Lettermen would have had at least some legitimate reading materials. The New York Times, Time magazine, In Style…heck, she would have settled for People, the least filthy of all the rags. Sadly, there was only trash in sight.

“Oh you know people,” her assistant, Claire, chimed in, “they probably leave ‘em around so the celebs can admire their photos in print. Most of ‘em probably can’t read anyway.”

“Nice generalization,” Sydney said dryly as she rolled her eyes. She hated being lumped into the “celebrity” category along with all the Jennifers, Julias, Reeses, and Catherines. In her mind, she was just Sydney, born and raised in Virginia, the daughter of a school teacher and a government worker. Just because she happened to have the gold statue of a man named Oscar sitting atop her fireplace mantle did not make her better than the other women in the world. Especially not those of greater importance like ones passing laws and finding cures for diseases. Comparatively, memorizing a few lines and repeating them on cue seemed obsolete.

Before Claire or Sydney could speak another word, a frazzled Late Show intern skidded into the room looking dreadful with matted hair and ruddy cheeks. “Miss Bristow, I am so sorry – so, so sorry,” she sputtered out. “I can’t find sunflower seeds anywhere! I thought we would have them, but all I found were peanuts and I know how much you like sunflower seeds! Please don’t be mad! I’m so sorry! I can run out and buy some right now!”

Sydney glanced sideways over towards Claire, who was trying desperately not to laugh. “It’s fine, really,” Sydney promised the terrified girl with a smile. “I don’t need sunflower seeds. In fact, I’m not even hungry. What’s your name?”

“Jessica.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Jessica, and you don’t have to worry; you’re doing a great job. Why don’t you go…breathe somewhere,” Sydney suggested upon noticing the girl turn progressively redder.

“Okay. Thank you. Thank you,” Jessica said as she left the room. She was practically bowing and scraping at the floor, making it seem as though Sydney was the sultan of a foreign land where one would be beheaded if they did not provide sunflower seeds in masses.

“That was great,” Claire snorted with laughter once the intern skittered away. “Seriously, we should have had that on video and sent that to Star. Then maybe they’d stop printing that shit about you.”

“Claire, even if that girl had worked for Star they would just find some other shit to print,” Sydney told her very seriously. In fact, the whole situation was rather exhausting, which was why she avoided looking at such periodicals at all costs. There was no point; if she saw them, they only aggravated her, especially since her face was on the cover at least once a month, if not more.

“The show just started; you have fifteen minutes, Miss Bristow,” a production assistant said as he poked his head into the greenroom before continuing on his way. Taking this as a sign that she needed to finish getting ready, Sydney walked over to one of the mirrors hanging on the wall and checked her lipstick and hair to make sure it was perfect enough for being on TV.

“So how do I look?” Sydney asked as she turned to Claire.

“Perfect as always,” Claire smiled at her. “Just remember to tell Dave how much you loved working on Walking in Memphis.”

“You mean I shouldn’t tell him how I wanted to beat Chad What’s-His-Face over the head with our script until he died?” she asked in a fakely chipper tone.

“Um…no. Killing your costars is never advisable,” Claire cautioned.

“Right,” Sydney sighed. Then after one quick check of her lipstick, she walked out of the greenroom to the staging area, where the music was already beginning to play for her big entrance onto the stage. As David Lettermen was announcing her, she plastered her big fake TV grin across her face and straightened her dress, ready to strut her stuff out of the stage.

When she stage hand gave her the ‘go’ signal, she did just that, greeting the host with the cursory kiss on the cheek before giving a little wave to the cameras and studio audience and taking a seat next to Dave’s big oak desk. The first few minutes of the interview consisted of the usual ‘how are you’ chitchat. Then, Dave got down to business.

“So tell me about this new movie, Walking in Memphis. Was it fun to work on?”

“Oh yeah it was a blast! The best thing about it was actually getting to work down in Memphis. I had never been to that part of the country before and it was great to tour around there and see all the sights; it really is a beautiful place,” Sydney told him. Okay, good job; first question down without any major lies. Fantastic, she coached herself.

“So now this is your first major movie to come out since the big Academy Award win, right?”

“Um, no, not quite. I did have one smaller movie come out at the end of last year, but I guess this is the first big one, yeah,” she nodded with a smile. Why did everyone have to bring up the Oscar? She was shocked she was even nominated, let alone won, but it was not as though the award had changed her profoundly. After all, recognition was nice, but it was not something she built her life around.

“So does that add any pressure to things? Do people think, ‘Oh well she has to act perfectly because she won the Oscar’?”

“Well actually this was filmed before I won,” she informed him simply. “But I don’t think it does, really. I mean, it’s not as though my talent has gotten any better or worse since the win; I’m just the same,” she smiled.

“Alright well we’ll be right back with more of Sydney Bristow talking about Walking in Memphis, in theaters this Friday,” Dave said to the cameras. Once they had gone to commercial break, Sydney took a sip of water and leaned back in her chair; half the interview down, half to go. Just a few more minutes and she could go back to her hotel room and relax.



Chapter 2

“Really great interview Ms. Bristow,” the trembling intern, Jessica, said to her as she passed by.

“Thanks,” Sydney gave her a soft smile.

“Oh um,” Jessica said, hurrying after her, “would you, um, sign something for me please? Would you mind?”

“No that’s perfectly alright. What would you like me to sign?” Sydney asked her politely. She waited as the girl rummaged in her over-the-shoulder bag and pulled out a tiny spiral bound notebook and a pen. Sydney wrote a short message before signing her name and handing the items back to the girl, who was very gracious.

Walking away, Sydney could not help but shake her head. She never understood why her signature was such a commodity. True, it was proof that the person in possession of her signature met her, but with fraudulent signatures on eBay running ramped, signatures did not mean as much at present as they had in the past. Once again, though, they did not make sense. Why did someone need proof that they met her? Wasn’t meeting her enough? If they told a friend that they met her, would they think they were lying without a John Hancock to display?

Sydney was perplexed by this behavior to no end simply because she could not understand why it was such a big deal to meet her. In the past, her encounters with some fans had been unique to say the least. Many of them cried hysterically just at the sight of her and were hardly even able to speak to her. Sydney found this utterly ridiculous. She was just a person like them. Well, clearly not like them, for she had never had a star-struck moment, though she knew full well she was one of the few who had not. It amazed her nonetheless just how shocked people could be when they met her.

Back in the greenroom, Sydney gathered up her things before she and Claire made their way towards the exit, where a car was waiting to return her to her hotel. With the premiere of Walking in Memphis and all the press relating to it behind her, Sydney was more than ready to have a nice relaxing weekend in New York City. All that was standing between her and that tranquility was a mass of piranhas outside the studio also known as paparazzi. Snapping her picture, calling out her name, shoving and pushing trying to get the million dollar shot; it was a hundred feet of pure hell before she was safely inside the black SUV that would be driving her across town.

Just a week shy of her twenty-ninth birthday, Sydney was well versed in dealing with the paparazzi. After all, she had been in the business called show for over a decade. Luckily for her, for at least a significant period of that time, the paparazzi left her alone for the most part. The piranhas had not started to really come out until her Oscar win thirteen months earlier. Ever since then, they seemed to be everywhere she went.

Dealing with the paparazzi was by far the worst part of being a Hollywood starlet. Some days, when all she wanted to go was go to the grocery store and buy some fruit, vegetables, and whatever else she wanted in peace, Sydney was ready to thrown in the towel. Of course, she could never do anything in peace. It took her weeks to find a grocery store that arrested the paparazzi inside the store so she did not have to see pictures of herself placing apples into a bag all over the tabloids. Even still, they were waiting out in the parking lot for her, snapping photos as she loaded her grocery bags in the back of her car. Interestingly, none of them ever offered to help her with those bags (not that she would have accepted their help).

Though they stayed a respectful ten feet back from her most of the time, she still was not free from them. If they happened to catch a picture of her placing a carton of water bottles into the back of her car, so be it; who cared about that? However, when she had the misfortune of being spread all over Us Weekly clutching a clear plastic bag with a box of Tampax and a bag of Always, she learned a very valuable lesson. Always choose paper bags, lest the world become aware of – and debate -- your feminine hygiene preferences.

Before her Oscar win, the paparazzi swarms were definitely manageable. For the first five years of her career, she was practically a nobody. Sure, she got parts in movies and made more money than most average Americans saw in ten years, but the paparazzi were not interested in photographing her when Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise were roaming around, or other people more newsworthy. As her popularity climbed, though, she found herself subject to a few camera lenses, especially when in downtown Los Angeles.

The first time she had an unbearable encounter was two years prior, shortly after the Golden Globe nominations were announced and she was listed as a favorite to win the Best Supporting Actress category. She was shopping in a store, perusing the racks of thousand dollar gowns for something appropriate to wear, when dozens of photographers began snapping her picture through the store windows. The police had to be called just so she could get into her car. Ever since then, the “stalker-azzi” situation had gone down hill.

“So what are you going to do tonight, Syd? Go out?” Claire asked as they rode towards the Waldorf.

Sydney let out a muffled snort. “What did you just meet me?” She was, of course, referring to her tendency to stay in at all costs. In her beginning days in Hollywood she had gone out and done the party scene, but quickly grew bored of it all. Recently, she had been spending her days at home, with her golden lab, Leila.

“Of course I’m not going out. I’m going to watch a movie…or maybe take a bath…whatever. What are you going to do?” she asked her assistant.

Claire shrugged. “I think I might go out. I’ve never really been to New York before, so I wanna see some stuff… too bad I can’t get in to see a play or musical or something.”

“What do you want to see? I might be able to get you something…” One of the perks of having a celebrity status was having the convenient ability to pull strings in situations that would arise. For instance, Sydney knew that a few select, high profile restaurants always had tables available for celebrity patrons. She assumed the same might be the case for some Broadway shows, but she was not sure; she had never tried, not having an interest in musical theater.

“Oh that’s okay; I don’t even know what I’d see anyway. Thanks though,” Claire gave her a soft smile. “You’re the best!”

“Thanks Claire,” Sydney said, laughing softly.



Chapter 3

After eating a late dinner thanks to hotel room service, Sydney decided the best way to spend at least part of her evening would be to melt all her stresses away in a warm bubble bath. One thing nice about penthouse hotel suites was that they always came with plenty of lavender scented bubble bath, her favorite. As she waited for the tub to fill with water and suds, Sydney rolled her neck while massaging a particularly sore spot with her index and middle fingers; it had been a very long day.

Sydney did not particularly dislike doing interviews; in fact, she even enjoyed doing some of them. She liked going on talk shows to display her pride in the work she had done in her most recent movie, and to promote the film. The problem came when she was scheduled to do three, four, sometimes six interviews in one day, each one asking almost identical questions. That became exhausting, especially when she was driving back and forth across the city, hardly having time to catch her breath let alone grab something to eat or drink.

Sinking into the warm bath with tranquil music from her iPod being fed into her ears, Sydney finally let out a sigh of relief. The day was over; she no longer had to worry about what she said and did since two dozen cameras were no longer all over her, just waiting to catch something less than celebrity of her. It was all so ridiculous. Some days she wondered what on earth had possessed her to start it all in the first place.

At just the tender age of eighteen Sydney starred in her first major motion picture. Of course, the ‘starring’ role she had been promised was a character named “Girl #1” who had two sentences to say, but hey, at least she was saying those sentences to Meryl Streep. To her, it was an utter dream, even if acting had never been part of her life plans. Instead, modeling had.

An average student, Sydney was never quite sure what further education she wanted to pursue after high school was over. She had no favorite subject, at least not one she liked enough to continue doing for the rest of her life, so she decided – much to her parent’s displeasure – to take a year off between high school and college to decide what she wanted to do with her life. Her parents were concerned that in that time she would lose momentum and never go back to school, but Sydney swore up and down that she would; she just needed some time off.

While Sydney was doing some soul-searching and working thirty-eight hours a week at a music store in the local shopping mall, one of her close friends at the time came to her with a brilliant idea. This friend, Kelly, wanted to be a fashion model, and in a nearby town they were holding open auditions for just that. Kelly felt that Sydney was also a perfect modeling candidate, having a long, lean body and flawless skin, so she begged her to come along. Reluctantly, Sydney agreed.

While the modeling agency representative was not impressed with Kelly, he loved Sydney and invited her to New York to work in the fashion industry. Having nothing better to do and following her gut on a whim, Sydney packed her bags, much to her parent’s distress. Sydney would hear none of their rebuttals though; she was going to New York and going to grace the cover of In Style magazine, or so she thought anyway.

New York City had a very different atmosphere than Sydney expected it to be. Instead of living in a nice apartment with one or two roommates, she was crammed in a run-down two room hole with six other girls. This was not the life she expected and since she was only getting minimal employment, she began to second guess her decision to come.

A month after moving to the city, just as she was ready to give up, she was photographed for the Saks Fifth Avenue catalog, which gave her enough money to move to a slightly better part of town. There, she was encouraged by her roommates to enroll in acting classes and try out for some roles for extra income as they did. Sydney did as they suggested and, most amazingly, found she had actual acting talent.

Just a few months later she was on screen opposite Meryl Streep, which made her parents very proud even if she only had one line. After that, she was cast in a supporting role in a Woody Allen movie, which earned her a nomination for a New York film award, much to her shock. This reaffirmed the fact that she probably had a future in the acting biz, so she moved out to Los Angeles where the parts continued to roll in.

It was not until two years later when she had the lead role in a romantic comedy staring opposite a fairly well known male actor. While the movie was poorly reviewed, it put her name out there that she was an up-and-coming starlet. She even won an MTV Movie Award for favorite new actress, which was interesting to say the least.

Over a decade after she left her Virginia home, the glitz and glamour of Hollywood was definitely beginning to fade for her. While she could have chosen almost any acting role she wanted, and often did, acting was not fulfilling her life anymore. Those ten years had, in a way, been both the best and worst of her life. Best in that she was finally truly successful at something, plus the paycheck was not bad either. Worst in that, while she was a big star, she was also very much alone.

In those ten years, she had never been able to find a real true friend in Hollywood. With other actresses, she only had superficial friendships. Sure they were fun to go shopping with on occasion, or talk to while at an award show, but she would never ever reveal her deepest, darkest secrets to them. True, her assistant Claire, who had been with her for just under four years, was like a best friend to her, but Claire was rarely around during the hours Sydney was not paying her to be around.

Even more so than not having a best girlfriend, she did not have a boyfriend, and had not had one for quite some time. Sydney found dating in Hollywood to be exhausting at best. First, there were the actors. The nice, sweet ones were gay. The straight ones were often times overbearing with their lack of hygienic habits or their metro-sexual primping obsessions forcing them to spend more time in the bathroom than her. Second, there were the directors, producers, and writers, most of whom were not her taste or far too busy to spend time building a relationship with someone. The last breed of male she met in Los Angeles was the Hollywood Agent, each more slimy than the last.

Needless to say, Sydney did not find any long-term relationships out in California, or New York for that matter. After many casual dates left her depressed and on her sofa with a carton of ice cream in her lap, she gave up on the whole dating scene. More or less, anyway.

As the water in her bath was turning cold, Sydney decided it would be best to get out of the tub, dry off, and slip into her pajamas. She had thought enough depressing thoughts for the night; she needed some cheering up. Luckily, she knew just the way to put a smile on her face. Cursing herself for having forgotten about him, she hurried to her laptop computer and plugged it into the hotel’s complimentary DSL line. She was going to check her messages on PerfectRomance.com to see if, maybe, she had heard from Michael.



Chapter 4

It really was rather comical. A celebrity with a profile on PerfectRomance.com? Of course, her profile did not say, ‘Hello, I am a celebrity,’ and acting was not listed under her profession. The entire thing was anonymous; all the other browsers of PerfectRomance saw was her first name and a photograph of her when she was in high school, looking very different than she did at present. However, Sydney was forever amused by what people would have thought if they knew Sydney0418 was actually Sydney Bristow, Oscar winner.

Not quite a year earlier, after her Oscar winning high wore off, Sydney sunk into an almost depressed state. She felt that now that she had won the most coveted award in acting there was nothing left for her to do. After all, she was getting older, and wanted to begin to have serious relationships in hopes that one day she would get married and have a family, the only real goal she had ever had. She knew full well she would never find a man worthy of being her husband in Hollywood, so the only solution she saw was moving back home to Virginia. That was when Claire offered her another solution.

Along with the stacks of scripts and audition requests that were pouring in daily, Claire handed her an advertisement for PerfectRomance.com. Naturally, Sydney laughed off the idea immediately, but Claire was so persistent Sydney just had to listen to her defense. Apparently, Claire’s elder sister, whose dating life had been pathetic, used PerfectRomance.com to find her husband. Three years later, they were still together and just as happy as ever. Despite this success story, Sydney was still very wary of an internet romance.

She had no doubts that a friendship could be formed over the World Wide Web. After all, friendships consisted of mostly conversation, which could be had through emails, instant messaging or, nowadays, internet phone calls, though that was an invention she was least familiar with. Though there was a certain amount of going out with friends, to movies or dinner, it was possible to have a friendship without going out. She failed to see, however, how one could have a romantic relationship with a computer as a barrier.

While there was a certain amount of conversing that needed to be done in a romantic relationship – conversing that could be done, in theory, over a computer – there was a larger issue. Part of dating was seeing that person, face to face, reading their facial expressions, laughing with them, and last but not least, kissing them. With an internet relationship, those things were virtually impossible.

Although her attitude was cynical, Sydney agreed to join PerfectRomance.com, mostly because of Claire’s insistence. She did not, however, expect anything to come of it, except perhaps a few laughs. She filled out the very long compatibility form, filled in enough information in her profile to be vague yet accurate, and waited.

For the first few weeks, there was nothing. Then one email came, and then another, each of them on the creepier side of normal. Once again, this reaffirmed Sydney’s idea that an internet romance was not for her. Just as she was about to delete her account or, at least, never check her messages again, she received one from a man identifying himself only as Michael. In his profile, he described himself as a lover of sports and dogs, blonde with green eyes, and skeptical of eDating; immediately, Sydney was intrigued.

Seven months later, Sydney was still corresponding with Michael, exchanging emails with him at least twice a week, talking occasionally over instant messenger, and even once trying the wonder that was the internet phone, though the technology got the better of them and they gave up long before actually hearing each other’s voices. While she was hesitant to call him her boyfriend, she absolutely considered him a friend. A very good friend, at that. Some of the specific details about his life were still hazy to her, as were the details –one in particularly- about her to him, but she felt as though she knew him on a deeper level. At least, far deeper than she had known any male since her time in Hollywood. She looked forward to every email she received from him, and that Thursday night was no different.

After typing in her PerfectRomance.com password, Sydney went right to her message inbox. Sadly, none of her new messages were from him. She did have two unread notes, though, each of them from men begging her to ‘cyber’ whatever that was. She was just about to shut her laptop, disappointed, when an idea came to her. Perhaps Michael had emailed her on her real email account, which she had given to him for convenience purposes.

She was practically holding her breath as she typed in her username and password for her email account. When the next window loaded, showing she had one new message in her inbox, her heart did a summersault in her chest and she quickly moved her curser to check the message. It was from Michael.

Sydney,
I hope your business trip to New York is going well. I check the weather report and it shows rain for this weekend. Sorry ‘bout that; I know how you wanted to do some sightseeing. Maybe you still can, though; you know how those weathermen are hardly ever right.
As for me, I’m down to my last week in Seattle and can I just say: Thank God! If I never see another rainstorm, it will be too soon. Thank god that LA has more sunny days that not, because I’m seriously getting depressed over here. So is Puck. Poor guy can’t even enjoy a nice walk in the park without getting his poor little paws drenched and muddy as he tries to chase after his tennis ball, which, incidentally, is also covered in mud.
Anyway, my lunch break is nearly over so I guess I should get going. I think I’m going to go see that new movie Walking in Memphis this weekend; it looks good. I’ll let you know how it is. I hope you’re weekend in the city is great. Talk to you soon.
Michael

Sydney had to laugh softly at the last paragraph he wrote her. While she was interested to see his opinion on Walking in Memphis she knew whatever he said would make her blush furiously, even if he could not see her (which was probably a good thing). That was the only truly strange thing about their relationship - if one could call it that. Since he did not know she was Sydney Bristow, he would comment on Sydney, the actress, to her after seeing one of her movies. One time, she stupidly prompted a question to him, asking what he thought of her and he had said that she was good looking and seemed like she would be a very nice person face-to-face.

For a few minutes, she stared at her computer screen, wondering what to write back to him. She could not tell him about her day, obviously, at least not in detail. As far as he knew, she had a job that required her to work sporadic hours and travel a significant amount of time. Interestingly, his job was similar in the travel respect. For instance, she knew he had spent the past three weeks in Seattle setting up something-or-other for the company he worked for. A few weeks before that, he had been up in Vancouver, Canada.

A few times during his travel excursions, Michael sent Sydney pictures of where he had been. She noticed, though, that he never included himself in those photographs. Only his golden retriever, Puck, named after Michael’s favorite sport’s instrument. She could not really complain, though; she never sent him pictures of herself either (for obvious reason, of course). She knew that one day she would have to come clean with him, but that day was not upon her yet and she had a feeling it would not be any time soon.



Chapter 5



Bristow in the Big Apple!
Exclusive pics inside!

Sydney Bristow spent the past week in New York City, promoting her movie, Walking in Memphis. She visited Good Morning America, Regis and Kelly, The Late show with David Lettermen among many other shows. Included the questions asked to her was the question: Did she enjoy working with co-star and uber-hunk Chad Bartholomew?
“Oh yeah; he’s a sweet guy,” Bristow replied.
Tsk. Tsk. Ms. Bristow. Star has received information otherwise. Apparently Bartholomew and Bristow were not at all cozy on the set. Simply put, they hated each other.
While in New York, Bristow was spotted strolling through Central Park, visiting the zoo there, and dining at the Le Cirque restaurant. Noticeably absent in Bristow’s outings was a male companion of any kind. Could it be that Bristow has hit a romantic slump?
“Oh no, she’s seeing someone,” a source assures us. “It’s just on the down low, you know? They don’t want to go public yet because he’s also in the limelight.”
As for the identity of Bristow’s mystery lover I guess we’ll have to wait and see!

“Leila! Leila c’mere good girl! Mommy’s home!” Sydney called out when she walked into her house. After being away for nearly a week, she was anxious to sleep in her own bed again and to see her precious pup.

After just a moment, Leila bounded into the kitchen, tail wagging furiously and tongue lolling out of her mouth. She plowed right into Sydney and began yipping as she jumped up, trying to lick her owner’s face. “Hey Leila did ya miss me?” Sydney laughed, scratching the dog’s ears and head. Leila continued to yip and wag her tail as she circled Sydney a few times, sniffing her and the luggage at her feet.

Once Sydney finally escaped Leila’s excitement, she walked around her house, making sure the dog walker she had hired for her time away had not moved or, god forbid, stolen any of her belongings. Upon finding that everything was in order, she returned to the kitchen to check the message on her answering machine. There were three all of which were from her manager.

The messages played in reverse order, so the first message from her manager, Timothy, was congratulating her on having another movie that was number one at the box office opening weekend. In the second message, Timothy informed her that he had “a plethora” of new scripts waiting for her to look over. Apparently, he would be sending them to her within a few days of her return home to LA. The final message was Timothy stating his approval for the interviews she had done for Walking in Memphis.

Sighing slightly, Sydney returned to her luggage and carried it upstairs followed by Leila, still wagging her tail. As Sydney unpacked and sorted laundry from clean, unworn clothing, Leila lay down on her bed, watching her every move across her expansive bedroom. “You wanna do this for me?” Sydney teased her pup. Leila beat her tail once against the bed, acknowledging that she as being spoken to, but otherwise making no attempt to move. “Didn’t think so,” she laughed softly.

In theory, she could have hired someone to unpack her things for her, as she knew many of her fellow celebrities did. Frankly, she found that pointless. Why would she pay someone to do something she could do herself? That was ridiculous, not to mention a waste. Besides, she had nothing better to do. If she was not unpacking her clothes, she would have been sitting on the couch reading or perhaps out in the backyard playing with Leila. Of course, that would have been fun, but there were twenty-four hours in a day and unpacking certainly would not take up all of them.

Once her suitcases were empty and she had a load of laundry in the washing machine, Sydney took Leila out to walk and play on the beach. The number one reason Sydney purchased the house she currently lived on was, not just because it was in a secluded and gated neighborhood, making it paparazzi free, but also because from it there was just a two minute walk to the beach. Growing up in Virginia, one would have though Sydney had enough beach time to last her whole life, but that was not the case at all; she just could not get enough of it.

At least once a day she tried to get out on the beach to go for a walk with Leila. Sometimes, if she was working twelve hour days while filming a movie, this was not possible, but if it was at all possible she was out there throwing a tennis ball into the surf and watching her pet chase after it. She loved to just sit on the beach and watch the waves roll in again and again. To her, it wasn’t lonely, simply serene.

As she sat there, tossing Leila’s tennis ball and waiting for her to bring it back, Sydney’s gaze drifted down the beach. There, she saw a couple around her age, holding hands as they walked across the sand, laughing together. Sydney’s heart ached in her chest at the sight of this. She longed to have someone – a male someone – to share her serene beach, but was caught between her desire for someone to share a life with and her career.

Sitting there, debating whether or not she should accept another movie script, Sydney’s thoughts turned to Michael. He was the only man in her life with whom she was close and even that closeness was very relative to the fact that they had never laid eyes on one another. Still, even if they had not met in person, she felt connected to him. She looked forward to all his email and felt disappointed every time she checked her mail and found the virtual box empty. Her gut told her that he was someone she could really truly trust. She wanted to trust him, too, but trust involved meeting him face to face and, frankly, she was terrified of being disappointed.

As Leila lay down beside her, Sydney resolved to deeply consider the possibility of meeting Michael in person over the next week. After all, if she never took any chances for herself, she feared she would end up sitting on that beach all alone for the rest of her life.



Chapter 6

“Okay, Syd, I’ve got lots of scripts for you,” Claire said as she walked onto Sydney’s back patio. She held the stack of envelopes up to her face and mimicked breathing them in deeply. “Ah I think there’s another Oscar in here somewhere.”

Sydney laughed softly. “Thanks Claire.” She took the stack and placed it down on her lap while she reached for her coffee cup to get another precious sip of the liquid keeping her awake at the early hour. Okay, so maybe ten am was not all that early, but it was to her since she had only been up for an hour. One downside of being an actor with no real job to go to on a daily, or even weekly, basis was that Sydney easily slipped into lazy habits, like sleeping past nine every day and rarely changing out of pajamas and sweatpants if not leaving the house.

“So Timothy told me he ranked those scripts from best to least – the best are on top…and some of them have requested reply by deadlines, which are on the front of the envelopes,” Claire said. Then she crouched down to say hello to Leila, who was lying at her master’s feet.

“Okay, thanks; I’ll check ‘em out a little later,” Sydney sighed, moving the stack to the table beside her. “Hey Claire? Can I ask your opinion on something?”

“Sure,” Claire said with a chipper smile as she sat down in the chair beside Sydney. “What’s up?”

“Well it’s just… I’ve been talking to this guy – Michael – on PerfectRomance.com for a while now and I was wondering-”

“You should totally meet him!” Claire insisted without even letting Sydney ask her question.

Sydney laughed softly. “You think so? Because… I mean, I dunno. I’m not sure. He could be… well, what if he’s lied about everything so far?”

“How long has it been? Like eight months? It’s not likely that after that long he’s lied about everything. Besides, you really like this guy don’t you?” Claire asked. Sydney merely grumbled and shrugged her shoulders. “Oh c’mon! You only talk about him like every other day. It’s always, ‘Michael this,’ or ‘Michael that…’ or ‘Oh my god, Michael sent me the funniest thing today!’ He’s seriously like already your boyfriend; you may as well meet him.”

“Well yea…but its not just the lying. I mean, okay, let’s assume for a second that he has not said one lie to me in all this time. Well look at me! I’ve done nothing but lie to him!” she exclaimed frustrated. Thinking about that, she realized just how much meeting Michael had the extreme potential to blow up in her face. She had essentially been lying to him for all the time they knew one another, which had the possibility of making him entirely furious. After all, he had the right to be.

“No,” Claire clarified. “You haven’t been lying. You didn’t tell him you were a twelve year old blonde, right? You just did not clearly layout your profession to him.”

“Which is lying by omission and is still lying,” Sydney said.

“Not technically. Besides, the second Michael sees that you are…well, you he’s going to be too shocked to be pissed at you. He’ll be thrilled!”

“Ah see right there – that’s the other problem!” Sydney exclaimed, sitting up so quickly that she startled Leila. “What if he freaks out when he sees me!? I mean, let’s face it – people have a tendency to do that! Remember that creepy guy who asked if he could touch my breasts?! What if Michael does that?!”

Claire grimaced but said, “Not likely. I mean, he knows you. Not celebrity you, but real you. He won’t freak out.”

“What if he does?!”

Claire laughed softly. “I’m sorry, were you trying to talk yourself into this our out of it?” Sydney gave her a look. “Seriously, Syd, you should go for it. I mean, look out well it worked out for Amy. She was totally freaked out about meeting Ken before hand and then afterwards…look how happy they are now! They’re expecting a baby!”

“I know,” Sydney sighed. The tiny part of her that did not have any paranoia at all about meeting Michael could not help but thing that maybe, if things worked out as well for her as they had with Amy, she could be married to him and be expecting a child herself. Within a few years, of course.

“I just… I dunno,” she groaned, covering her face with her hands. “What if…okay what if he doesn’t freak out because I’m a celebrity and he’s all star-struck. What if he doesn’t like celebrities? Because, let’s face it, being around me comes with strings attached – namely the annoying ones with camera lenses permanently attached to their hands. What if he freaks out about that?! What if he doesn’t want to deal with me because dealing with me means dealing with the photographers?! Then I’ll lose him an our friendship!”

“What if he sees you and is disappointed you don’t have a mole in the dead center of your forehead?” Claire said. “Syd, you could do hypothetical scenarios all day long and drive yourself insane doing it. You’re never going to know, though, unless you ask him to meet you. And you know what? I bet he really wants to meet you.”

“You think so?” Sydney asked with a soft smile.

“Um, duh! Of course he does! He’s a guy remember. At the very least he wants to meet you so you can have sex,” Claire said factually. Sydney gave her an annoyed look. “Just kidding!”

“Thanks Claire,” Sydney rolled her eyes.

“I’m serious Sydney; you need to meet Michael. Oh! Think of it this way! He’s from LA right? Maybe you already know him or have already met him!”

“Um, except no, because I know he works in some sort of office or something and the last time I was in an office was like… a year ago when I went to see Timothy,” Sydney told her seriously.

“There you go!” Claire smiled.

“You mean maybe he’s a manager? Um, ew?”

“Sydney, after all this time you’re seriously going to break up with him if he’s some sort of manager?” Claire asked in a disapproving tone.

Sydney shifted uncomfortably. “Well, no, but I’ll be shocked and somewhat disappointed I suppose…”

“But you will give him a chance,” Claire said, almost as a threat. Sydney gave a conceding nod. “There’s my girl. Anyway, I’ve gotta go… don’t forget to read those scripts!” she called out as she left.

Sydney sighed and looked at the pile next to her. Scrunching up her nose, she turned away; she just wasn’t in the mood. “What do you think I should do girl? Should I ask Michael to meet?” she asked Leila. Leila merely whined softly and beat her tail against the ground. “Yeah…I don’t know either…”



Chapter 7

After making herself an early lunch, Sydney sat down on her couch with Leila on one side of her and the stack of movie scripts on the other. She knew that her manager would be calling her before the end of the day to make sure she received the scripts and looked at them, so procrastinating much longer would only result in a very irritating conversation.

For some reason, her manager cared exponentially more about her career than she did, though she suspected this was because he wanted to continue receiving the check she sent him every month. Every time she decided to take a month or two off before choosing another script, Timothy would practically call her every day with great suggestions to get back to work. Eventually, completely and totally annoyed by him, Sydney gave in just so he would stop calling her.

At the top of the script stack was a movie labeled ‘***High Importance***’ by Timothy. As annoying as he was, Sydney did trust his judgment; the last time he labeled a movie with three stars on either side of ‘high importance’ it had won her an Oscar. Sliding the script out of its envelope, Sydney found a bright yellow note attached that read: Sydney Bristow for the role of Lt. Marie Watson.

“Ooh a lieutenant,” she commented before flipping the first page of the script open and reading the movie summary.

The movie, entitled Atomic Winter, centered around a post-atomic explosion United States, where only a select few members of the human race survived. The movie centered around three members of the military working their way across the country trying to find survivors in the desolate environment. During their travels, they do find survivors, one of whom, a former schoolmate of Lt. Watson, ends up becoming her romantic interest.

Atomic Winter did not immediately strike Sydney’s interest. For starters, she was not much of a fan of the science fiction type genre, which it clearly fell into. It was also going to be an action movie of sorts, also something she was not used to. She did not completely write it off, though, because it was different for her, and could prove to be a good opportunity.

Pushing that script aside, Sydney reached for the next envelope on the pile. After just looking at the script for a few minutes, she knew immediately that movie was not for her. First of all, the character they wanted her for was a stripper, which meant not only did she have to do nude scenes, she had to do a lot of them, and that certainly was not for her. Long ago, shortly after entering the acting world, she promised that she would never, ever wear anything less than a bikini when her body was going to be sixty feet high on a movie theater screen; that just was not happening.

Upon finding the next two scripts were no better, or at least not much better, Sydney pushed the whole stack aside and reached for her laptop. She needed to think about something else for a while, and that something else was going to be Michael. Feeling hopeful, she signed on to instant messenger and found that Michael, the only person on her buddy list, was indeed online. After just a minute, he sent her a message.
KingsHockey27: It’s been a while.
Sydney0418: yes it has. Back in LA yet?
KingsHockey27: almost. My flight is tomorrow evening; I can’t wait.
Sydney0418: I’ll bet. Are you and Puck all packed?
KingsHockey27: kinda. We’re in the process of packing right now… but I need a break anyway. How are you?
Sydney0418: ok I guess…I was actually thinking about doing something kind of…crazy I guess….
KingsHockey27: oh no. don’t get a piercing or a tattoo; they’re always mistakes

Sydney couldn’t help but laugh out loud at this comment, which sounded suspiciously as though he was speaking from experience.
Sydney0418: wha’d ya get pieced and how much did it hurt?
KingsHockey27: lol nothing, thank god. I do have a tattoo though, or rather, did…
Sydney0418: oh I’m sensing a story
KingsHockey27: of course. So my girlfriend in high school thought it would be a wonderful idea for us to get tattoos of each other’s initials since we were oh-so-in love
Sydney0418: oh no! That’s the cardinal rule – never tattoo someone’s name or initials unless its like your child…
KingsHockey27: yeah well at eighteen I wasn’t really aware of that. I thought she was joking until she came in and showed me her…
Sydney0418: her what?!!
KingsHockey27: I don’t think I should tell you…

Sydney gasped aloud at this; there was no way he was getting away that easy.
Sydney0418: c’mon Michael! I’m dying!
KingsHockey27: fine… her right butt cheek okay?

Sydney snorted at this. She had expected either that or the girl’s breast since he was hesitant to say. She was glad, though, that it was the former.
Sydney0418: lol nice… so did you get a butt tattoo too?
KingsHockey27: no! I got it on my bicep… Then, of course, we broke up…finally two years ago I had them removed so now I just have a funny looking scar…
Sydney0418: nice… why’d you wait so long?
KingsHockey27: I was kinda chicken – I didn’t want them to look worse
Sydney0418: ah, yes, that’s a legitimate fear.
KingsHockey27: so what was your crazy idea?

Taking a deep breath, Sydney typed out a sentence on the keyboard. Before sending it, she furiously began hitting the backspace key, checking out entirely. She glanced sideways to Leila and saw (or hallucinated) a disapproving look from her. “Alright, alright,” she grumbled.

Sydney0418: Well I was thinking about us…and wondering…
KingsHockey27: …yes?
Sydney0418: well, did you ever think about us meeting…like for real, without the computers between us?

It was almost a solid moment before Michael responded, all the while, Sydney’s heart was in her throat. When she finally saw his message pop up on her screen, she exhaled a slow breath, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart.

KingsHockey27: actually I had thought about it…
Sydney0418: yeah?
KingsHockey27: yeah. I was having an argument with myself bout it the other day, actually. I was thinking how we have a great thing here…a great friendship, if you will and I was concerned that meeting in real life – so to speak – would ruin that…
Sydney0418: me too! That’s exactly what I was thinking but…but I was also thinking that I think we have a connection here… a connection that could mean more than a friendship, maybe…I don’t know. Am I making sense?
KingsHockey27: yeah you are. Maybe we should meet… oh crap. Puck is throwing a fit; I think he needs to go out. Listen, can we continue discussing this after I’m back in LA?
Sydney0418: yeah sure. Have a safe flight, Michael.
KingsHockey27: Thanks. Bye Syd.

Leaning back against the sofa, Sydney sighed. Rereading their conversation, she actually began to feel better about meeting Michael in person. Strangely, the fact that he was having similar concerns as her made her feel a bit more relaxed about the situation. It further reaffirmed that they were on the same wavelength and, just maybe if that was true, they had a shot at being more than just internet friends.



Chapter 8

Two days later, when Sydney had yet to hear from Michael, she was convinced that she had completely scared him away by bringing up the ‘should we met?’ subject. Any logical though of the possibility that maybe something work-related had come up, or perhaps he was just exhausted from his trip and busy unpacking was gone from her mind. She was irrationally convinced that he hated her.

To distract herself from these thoughts, she decided to look over the scripts sent to her once more. While most of them continued to pique her interest only minimally, Atomic Winter continued to intrigue her. As she began to read the script, she found herself anxious for the next scene to occur, wondering what would happen in it. Given her increasing intrigue, she decided it certainly would not heart to audition for the part and find out a little bit more about the movie.

When Sydney called Timothy to inform him she would be seeking an audition for Atomic Winter she could practically hear him jump out of his chair from pure joy. In Timothy’s mind, that movie was a surefire Oscar and Golden Globe nomination. Not to mention the fact that it came with a reported fourteen million dollar paycheck, which he was interested in for purely selfish reasons.

Just a few days after putting in her request for an audition, Sydney received a phone call from the movie’s casting director, requesting a time for her to meet with a few select members of the movie crew. Sydney scheduled such a time and was surprisingly looking forward to it. Getting involved in another movie project would, hopefully, take her mind off her email account, which she was checking every hour on the hour to see if Michael had gotten back to her.

Finally, just as she was ready to throw her laptop out into the Pacific and happily watch it wash away, she heard back from him. His message was short and apologetic, stating that he had become involved in a minor family crisis, and was forced to fly home to Georgia to deal with it. He promised her that everything was alright, though, and they would talk about the possibility of meeting up in person – which he was definitely still interested in – when he returned to California.

Feeling relived upon reading this, Sydney smiled down at Leila. “See, you were worried about nothing; he does want to meet me still,” she said. She was convinced Leila rolled her eyes in response and could not help but laugh softly. “C’mon girl, let’s go to the beach!”

~*~

Sydney’s first meeting with the producers of Atomic Winter went very well. After hearing their ideas about the film, she actually felt excited at the prospect of being in the movie. The movie would be filmed entirely in the Los Angeles area, which was a big plus for Sydney. While she did not mind filming in other locations, she preferred to stay in LA at her own house, especially when her hours would be erratic. That way she did not have to worry about many things, Leila included.

Another nice thing about Atomic Winter was that for a change Sydney would have a supporting role, rather than a lead one. While she did not prefer either, the past few movies she had done involved her in a leading role, so changing to a supporting one was a nice change of pace. Plus, it most likely meant she would work less hours, which was also good.

While at the audition, Sydney asked about the other actors who would be staring in the film. No one had been officially cast yet, but the producer and director did have ideas for the actors they would have ideally cast for the roles and shared them with Sydney. Upon hearing no names that she detested, Sydney assured them that if they chose her to be in the final film she would definitely accept.

Upon arriving home from her audition, Sydney found that she had another email from Michael. This one stated that he was finally back in California – for good – and was anxious to talk about potentially meeting her. In fact, he was so anxious that he gave her his cell phone number at the end of the email and invited her to call so they could talk about it, which he correctly deduced would be easier than playing email tag.

Sydney stared at his phone number for a solid few minutes, contemplating what to do. He gave it to her and thus obviously wanted he to use it, but for some reason calling him gave her nervous butterflies in the pit of her stomach. She tried to convince herself it was crazy, though. After all, they were seriously talking about meeting one another, which clearly was a bigger step than having a phone call. Still, having his phone number made the whole thing real; it was as close of a contact as they had ever had.

Slowly, she reached for her phone and began to dial. Before she had completed the digits, though, she shut her phone, panicking mildly. What if he recognized her voice? What if he realized she was Sydney Bristow and freaked out right there on the phone?

Glancing over to Leila, who was staring at her, she realized she was being insane. Sometimes, depending on the connection, she could barely recognize the voice of her own mother. Recognizing the voice of a celebrity, who had only been seen in movies and on Access Hollywood, was ridiculous if not bordering on impossible; she was being irrational.

Opening her cell phone once more, Sydney dialed Michael’s number fully before holding the phone up to her ear. As it rang, her stomach did summersaults in her chest and her heart rose steadily towards her throat. Her palms were sweating so badly she could hardly hold the phone to her ear and when she heard the phone click, signaling someone was picking up on the other end, she nearly passed out.

“Hello?” came a deep – and sexy – voice on the other end of the phone.

“H-hi,” she stammered stupidly. “This is, um, Sydney…is this Michael?”

“Sydney hi, I’m so glad you called,” he said to her, his voice immediately sounding relaxed. “How are you?”

“Good… kinda in shock that I’m actually talking to you,” she said, laughing softly.

“I know, me too. It’s weird…and yet good, if that makes sense,” he laughed as well.

His laugh sent shivers down her spine. She longed to see the face and smile that went along with it, wondering if his teeth were perfectly straight, after spending years with braces on during childhood, or if they were just the slightest bit crooked, not in a scary way, but in a less than dentally perfected one. “It does make sense. So…about this whole meeting thing…”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it and I totally think we should do it.”

“Yeah?” she asked hopefully.

“Yeah. I really, really want to meet you and see where this thing goes, so what do you think?”

“I absolutely agree. So…when do you want to do this?”

“Well, I’m not sure. Today is Tuesday and I’m kinda busy for the rest of this week…how about Saturday? Right after lunch?”

Sydney agreed to this time, and then the two of them began discussing the best place for their meet. Sydney suggested a beach, most notably the one nearby her house, though she did not tell him its close location, she merely suggested the beach name and a notable jetty of rocks on it, asking whether or not he lived close enough to travel there. As it turned out he did, and their meet was on. Sydney described to Michael the outfit she would be wearing, so that he would recognize her, or, rather, believe she really was the Sydney he had been talking to. In turn, Michael told her that he would bring Puck with him, so she would know him.

“I guess I’ll see you Saturday, Sydney; I can’t wait,” he told he as they ended their conversation.

“I can’t wait either.”



Chapter 9

Standing on the beach Saturday afternoon dressed in a white skirt with a coral color long sleeve top, Sydney could not have been more nervous. She paced back and forth, back and forth along the surf, digging her toes into the sand, all the while rethinking her decision. Within a matter of minutes she was about to meet a man from the internet, a man she only knew by his first name, a man who could have been anyone.

She had lost her mind.

After all, what did she really know about Michael? Aside from what was on his PerfectRomance.com profile (six-foot-one, green eyes, sandy hair, lean build, 30-35 age range) not much. She didn’t even know what his family was like! Okay, she vaguely recalled him mentioning a brother once and she knew he talked about his parents, but that was it. She did not know what they did or even their names.

Aside from lack of knowledge about his family history, she did not know much about his profession, either. Come to think of it, she did not know anything about his profession. She did not know what his college degree was in, or even if he had a college degree. This, of course, was in part because she hesitated to bring up the subject of college, being that she did not have a degree herself and that was one of the things she regretted most about her life, but still, Michael had not offered that information, which was strange.

Even stranger was that he had not mentioned one thing about his job except that it required him to travel. He never said his traveling was because he was in sales, or in some type of unique division that gave him rare and special skills that were required in different areas of the country; he said nothing. The more she thought about it, the more this secrecy unnerved her.

What was Michael’s profession and why had he hid it from her? Had he made the whole thing up? Was he actually one of those people who had not left his basement – or, god forbid, his parent’s basement – for years on end? She shivered at that thought.

“You’re blowing this out of proportion,” she whispered to herself, but the problem was she really did not believe that. She was second guessing everything, wondering what had possessed her to meet Michael. Rationally she knew her nerves were contributing to most of her insane thoughts, most notably the though that Michael was actually a woman, but still, she could not stop them.

After a few more minutes of pacing and obsessing, Sydney finally looked down at her watch; it was ten minutes ‘til one. Just ten minutes to go until Michael arrived, and Sydney was seriously beginning to consider fleeing the beach, running back to her house and forgetting their meet had ever been scheduled. She could not do that, though; she was not that type of person. Even if Michael had lied when speaking to her online and was not who he claimed to be, she would simply have to smile politely and possibly sign an autograph the way things were going.

Just as she was about to fling herself out into the surf, thinking that maybe a cold bath would calm her nerves, she heard a dog bark behind her. Her heart leapt right up into her neck; she just knew that was Puck. She took a long, deep breath, before slowly turning around.

Up the beach there was a small hill, and standing at the crest was a man dressed in khaki pants, a blue t-shirt, flip flops and sunglasses. Walking along beside him was a golden retriever, pulling furiously on his red leash. Sydney exhaled her long breath. It appeared Michael’s description of his physical appearance was dead on (though he had clearly left out the part that he was gorgeous ) which was a positive sign.

As he drew nearer, Sydney took a few steps in his direction. She pulled off her sunglasses and placed them atop her head to get a better look at the man approaching her. Strangely, she recognized him, or thought she did anyway. From that distance, he looked eerily like one of the actors in the head shots she had seen at her audition for Atomic Winter. Drawing nearer to him, Sydney saw that this man was indeed the man she had seen in those headshots; her Michael was none other than Michael Vaughn, up and coming actor and recent Golden Globe award winner.

“You’re kidding me…,” Sydney exhaled under her breath. This was certainly not what she had expected, and she was not sure how to process that at the moment.

“Sydney Bristow,” he laughed, sounding just like he had on the phone. “Well this certainly is…unexpected…”

“You…you’re Michael Vaughn…,” she said distantly. He nodded his head once while gripping Puck’s leash a bit tighter. Meanwhile, the dog was just about yanking his arm off, bounding towards Sydney, trying to sniff the new person all over. “Unbelievable! Did Claire set this up!? What about Timothy?! They were both in on it weren’t they! Of all the sneaky underhanded-”

“Whoa,” Michael cut her off with a laugh. “Sydney calm down. What are you talking about? This isn’t a set up… trust me I am shocked that you’re…well, you. I came prepared to have to have to scrape some poor shocked woman off the sand at the sight of me!”

Sydney gave him a curious look. “You mean…you didn’t know I was going to be…me? I mean, a celebrity me?”

He shook his head. “Did you know?!”

“No! I thought you were…normal – well not normal…but…you know what I mean,” she laughed softly, bringing her sunglasses back down to cover her eyes.

“Yeah I do,” he smiled softly. “So this is… weird.”

“Yes. What the hell were you doing on PerfectRomance.com?!” she exclaimed.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he pointed out.

She smiled. “I guess you could.” Then, she crouched down to the ground to greet the struggling pup. “So this is Puck, huh? How are you boy?”

“Careful, he’s a little overzealous,” he laughed when Puck began to lick Sydney’s cheeks.

“I noticed,” she mumbled through Puck’s nose, which was sniffing her furiously. After scratching the dog’s head for a moment, Sydney stood up straight and crossed her arms over her chest. “So, um, given our…situation, do you think that maybe we should go someplace indoors to talk?”

“Sure where do you want to go?”

“I live right down the beach; I actually walked here,” she laughed softly.

“Alright,” he smiled at her. “Let’s go.”



Chapter 10

Five minutes later, after walking up the beach together, Sydney was climbing into the front seat of Michael’s BMW while Puck bounced around in the back. Sitting there, she was not sure which was the more shocking factor: the fact that she was finally in Michael’s car, or the fact that Michael turned out to be a celebrity just like her. At that point, the jury was still out.

As soon as Michael climbed behind the wheel and turned on the engine, Puck stuck his head in between the two front seats and began to howl and whine. “Puck!” Michael scolded, using one of his hands to shove the dog’s face back in the back seat. “Sorry,” he said to Sydney, his embarrassment showing in his slightly pink ears. “He’s used to sitting in the front seat; I guess he’s offended or something.”

“It’s fine,” Sydney assured him with a soft laugh. “How long have you had him?”

“’bout three years,” Michael told her. “In that time he’s only become progressively more spoiled… so, um, which way?”

“Oh sorry,” she apologized quickly. She directed him through the streets to her secluded neighborhood, and then finally to her house.

“So this is the kind of house Oscar winning millions can buy – its nice,” he smiled at her.

Sydney blushed even though it was obvious he was teasing her. “Yeah I guess… c’mon in.”

“Can Puck come too?” he asked cautiously.

“Oh yeah totally… I mean, Leila’s in there, but she gets along fine with other dogs…”

“So does he, once he’s given them a good sniff,” Michael said with a slight eye roll. Sydney laughed softly and led the way around the back, where she unlocked the door and let them into her kitchen. Immediately, Leila appeared and began looking at the new dog entering her territory. She and Puck sniffed each other all over before looking up at their owners as if to say, “We approve.”

“I guess they’re not going to attack each other,” Michael laughed softly before leaning over to unhook the leash from Puck’s collar. Once he was free, he followed Leila over to her bed, where they both lay down.

“Aw they’re cute,” Sydney smiled at them. Then she turned to Michael. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“No I’m fine thanks.”

Sydney nodded her head before walking into the adjoining sitting room area, where she plopped herself down on the couch before glancing over her shoulder towards Michael, encouraging him to do the same. “So…PerfectRomance.com, huh?” she asked with a smile.

“Oh, yeah,” he rolled his eyes slightly. “My brother signed me up for it.”

“Brother? Older or younger?” she asked.

“Well older…by a minute and a half…we’re twins,” he clarified.

“Twin? You’re a twin?” she asked. Now that she definitely did not remember from their internet conversations, so she knew he had not mentioned it before. After Michael nodded his head she continued, “Wow there are two of you… that’s a good day for the genetic lottery.”

Even though her implication was subtle, Michael noticeably blushed. “Well I don’t know about that. We’re fraternal twins; not identical. Actually, we don’t even look like siblings. I look exactly like our father and Luke takes more after Mom… To tell you the truth, we don’t have much in common at all. Luke’s the smarter one, the out going one… he’s a doctor, you see – a real people person, where as I’m… shy,” he laughed softly.

“You’re not that shy,” she smiled at him. “What kind of doctor is Luke?”

“Plastic Surgeon.”

“I see…they’ve got a lot of call for that in Georgia?”

Michael laughed. “You’d be surprised, actually. He doesn’t do all implants and face lifts, though; mostly he does reconstructive surgery.”

“I see,” Sydney nodded. “So why’d he sign you up for PerfectRomance.com?”

“Well I guess it kinda stared as a joke. He was making fun of me for turning thirty and-”

“Wait, he would be thirty too…” Sydney cut him off, sounding confused.

“Yes but he was married; I was single,” Michael pointed out. Sydney nodded, understanding further. “So anyway, he signed me up so that I didn’t have to spend another decade alone or something, I don’t know…he always teases me and stuff because he’s irritating – it told you we were different,” he laughed.

“I can see that.”

“So what about you? Why an internet romance?”

“Ah well I, too, was a skeptic; I was just in it for the friendship. See, my assistant, Claire, put me up to it because her sister found her husband on that site. This was around the time I was ready to quit the business and move back home to Virginia…”

“Why were you going to quit?” he asked curiously. “Was this before or after the Oscar?”

“After,” she smiled wryly. “I thought I’d done all there was to do out here. Plus I was getting older…wanted a real relationship that led to marriage and a family. And I hate dating actors.”

“So should I just leave?” he asked in a half-serious voice.

“No please don’t,” she said quickly, reaching out to touch his arm and keep him on the couch. “I hated the actors who were all…full of themselves and ridiculous… You’re different.”

He smiled. “Well I’m glad to hear you say that. I know what you mean, though. If I met another actress who was as vapid as a hot air balloon I was going to join a monastery,” he said in such a serious tone, Sydney could not help but burst out with hysterical laughter. “I’m serious!”

“I know I felt the same way,” she giggled.

“At least we’re on the same page then,” he smiled.

“Yeah I guess we are,” she smiled back. “So, um, does that mean we’re gonna…you know, continue this whole crazy relationship thing?”

“Well I definitely want to if you can get past you’re whole ‘I hate actors’ thing.”

“I can work on it,” she promised him with a playful smile.

“Great,” he smiled back at her.

“Oh! Wait! I just thought of something! You’re up for a part in Atomic Winter aren’t you?”

“Um, yeah,” he said slowly, his brow wrinkling. “How’d you know that?”

“Because I am too! That would be kinda cool if we got to work together…right?”

“Well yeah, but I don’t think I’m gonna get the part,” he said with great uncertainty. “I mean, did you hear the other guys up for that role? I suck compared to them!”

“Michael of course you don’t! They didn’t win a Golden Globe this year, did they?” she challenged.

Michael turned pink. “That was a total fluke!”

“No it wasn’t,” she laughed.

“Says the woman with an Oscar,” he challenged. She merely shrugged. “Mmhm well I’m not getting my hopes up about it… anyway, how about you and I have a real date tonight? You can come over to my place and I’ll make us dinner, how about that?”

“You can cook?” she asked with a smile of intrigue. He nodded. “Alright, I’m there.”



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Chapters 11 - 20