All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
?Miss Wood??I hear a soft voice, it?s practically a whisper.
Who in the world is calling me now?
?Miss Holly Wood!?
?What?? I snap at the concierge.
Why does he have such a blank look on his face? If he?s going to stop me he might as well have something to say.
?Y-you?re leaving the p-premiere party already?? He stammers.
?What does it look like I?m doing??
That was a waste of my time. I step onto the streets of New York. What am I doing out here? Wandering aimlessly around the streets? I should be in there, in the party. My premiere party, for the movie I just stared in. The movie no one believed I could star in, but here I am 26 years old and a movie star already. It?s all his fault, because of him I?ve been made the laughing stalk of the entire party.
What was he even thinking? He came. I don?t believe it, him of all people. Who does he think he is? What gave him the right to come knock on that door? What was he thinking? ?My childhood neighbor just stared in movie; will you let me into the party now?? What a jerk. Why would he use me like that?
Then he has the nerve to call me rude with a fake body. Alright I?ll admit I?ve had some work done, but not that much. I believe his exact words were, ?I guess when they reconstructed your body they made you a bitch as well.? Then he leaves me standing in the middle of the room with everyone staring at me. I just don?t understand why him of all people.
We grew up in New York, next door to each other. I never paid and attention to him because he was a nobody. Just look at him now; he runs his own business here in the city. He is completely successful, handsome, and rich; everything everyone said he could never become.
He became my best friend that night at the school dance. My boyfriend and I had just had a fight and we had broken up in front of everyone. He was the only one that showed sympathy for me. He took me out of the dance and walked around the streets with me. We wandered for hours on end only to stop under an old fashion lamppost in the dark. We were lost and surrounded by buildings with no windows. That lamppost lit up the entire street, it was the only lamppost I?ve seen like that in New York. There was something special about the spot and under that light. Something that told me everything would be better from then on.
It was since then I knew we would be best friends. He was the only one that believed I could make it to Hollywood, and I did. I just never imagined I would fall in love with him, or that I still am in love with him. Well, now I?m glad I never told him. I?m sure he hates me now and never wants to speak to me again.
?Watch where you?re going!?
I don?t bother to look up and turn down a quieter street, and continue to walk. The streets slowly become less friendly as the tears on my face fall faster and faster. He was right, Hollywood isn?t for me. I just love to act, only my entire life has become an act.
Why is it so dark? I don?t know where I am anymore. None of the buildings have windows, wait I see a light. As I walk towards the light I see it?s an old fashion lamppost, and there is someone standing there leaning against the lamp. I think it?s a man, as I get closer I realize it?s him.
He looks at me and I stare back at him. I should walk right up to him and slap him for what he just did to me. My feet obey, and as I stand right in front of him my hand refuses to move. The sun begins to rise, its brilliant rays of yellow and orange touch our cheeks. Then he touches mine and wipes away my tears. As I?m left motionless not knowing what to do, he leans in and kisses me; then he whispers, ?I love you.?