It was true that the party had shifted from being a cocktail and a three-course dinner to something else entirely—everyone had started off enjoying classical music, but unlike the previous gathering, Billy had thrown so much money and invited such an influential crowd that the 500-person venue, filled with just 200 guests, became a stage where many let go of their inhibitions, like glorified soldiers of fountains and lights.
–Everything alright?– asked Monica, well aware that something important was making him act so seriously.
He was surrounded by heavyweights from the film academy; some seemed out of place, but it didn't matter—they just chatted while the models he'd hired took care of keeping things lively. Despite the odd and unquantifiable nature of their job, each one was paid $500 in cash, plus unlimited drinks. The group of six women, and another of seven, all young college girls, took advantage of these parties to lure the unsuspecting.
Now, it was all about enjoying to the fullest.
The money was just an incentive for the girl who brought her friends—she came with stunning women, hoping to meet a magnate. Monica was sure, fervently so, that she only had to intervene if anything got out of hand. But everything seemed in order; the boy looked focused on who knows what.
–Nothing for you to worry about,– Billy replied, raising his eyes to meet hers. He was an inch taller than she was, even with her four-inch heels. She stepped closer and lay her head against his chest as they began to dance. The music's rhythm was intense, drinks were served in style, food was abundant and free, juices too—everyone indulged… Time seemed to pause as Monica used her body to seduce like an enchanting Arabian dancer, her hips moving with a rhythm so hot it seemed born from hell itself. Her dress swayed with power and allure.
You'd look to the side and see a young Leonardo with Gwyneth, entangled in a tentative relationship. The boy's sudden fame wasn't something he embraced, and now he was more devoted to enjoying anonymity. The young blonde kissed Leonardo's lips, then those of one of his friends, in bold, indecipherable movements.
The sweat on his shirt told him it was time to stop. He looked up at the mirrored ceiling, at everyone's movements, at how they seemed to free themselves entirely. Not a single camera in sight. Everything felt like a stairway to heaven—red eyes filled with lust and determination as each guest took their place.
As host of the party, Billy had to stay even though he didn't want to. He was painfully aware that in the next two days, he might regret it, l—either from lack of sleep or the obligations of getting his comics wrapped up. Some needed an immediate finish. He knew he had to shut down at least one series, but he wasn't sure which one yet—whether it would be the conventional ones or the more abstract, fervently failing ones, which would take significant effort to complete.
Between Helsing and Yu-Gi-Oh!, there was enough work for two full months. Unless he hired a full team, which might solve it. Maybe he'd tell Anne—that seemed fair. That way, he could focus on bringing Eyeshield 21, Naruto, and Fullmetal Alchemist to life. They deserved his time and energy in this painful, comic-heavy year. He hoped next year would be for novels—he had a dozen to write now that the accumulation phase had kicked in.
–You look bored,– Winona said beside him.
–Not really, just had a long day,– Billy answered.
–It happens. I honestly thought I'd win tonight, though,– Winona said.
–Win or lose, there are too many roles. Even if you try a thousand times, the joy lies in the work. Maybe it's time to seek roles like this—many praised your performance. And even though you lost, what did that loss mean when your heart already felt tormented?
–I lost the Globe, and now I've lost the Oscar too,– said Winona.
–I lost too. Worked so hard, I'm not even sure it's healthy to be jumping into another movie right now,– Billy said, winking, thinking about how incredible she would've been as Rose. She had that blend of man and girl energy, that incredible body—she fit perfectly. But jumping into that role just didn't seem necessary.
–I'll help with the next one. We'll try our best, get great roles—or you just find the stories and act, get good producers… challenge yourself. I think these roles always seek a challenge,– Billy said, unsure of what he truly meant. –You did something similar when you championed the Dracula remake. It's still a beloved story.–
–Oh God, what's happening?– said Winona, noticing Monica pulling an unsuspecting Jodie Foster into a long kiss. Hidden by the shadows in the VIP section, barely visible to a few, the blonde reciprocated. They shared a steamy kiss, and you hoped they'd show some decency—but the drinks, or maybe something more, took over. Jodie grabbed Monica's hips. Monica laughed and whispered things to her, eyes locked on Billy. She was cunning—uniquely so. That spicy way of always getting what she wanted.
–She's always intense with a few glasses of wine,– Billy said, brushing it off.
–You two have that… swinger thing?– whispered the dark-haired woman. Swapping partners, open relationships—concepts whispered in Europe and the future.
–I remember the first time we met, you threw up on me,– Billy said.
She had the grace to blush.
–It was dumb. I was just frustrated with how everything ended… I was broken. Didn't even know what to do with my life. I felt stupid and worthless,– Winona said.
–Sure, we have fun with other couples. But Monica prefers to keep it with people outside our circle—enjoy them, then move on. Right now, she's probably scheming something,– Billy replied, noticing her dark eyes sparkling like stars.
–Look at that face. Just a silly game,– Billy said, laughing as she caught on to his embarrassment. In Hollywood's fleeting world, people made mistakes they'd regret. Fame came with a price. Women once adored became discarded, forgotten. After risking their self-worth, they'd marry someone just as broken and stare at their reflection with rejection in their eyes.
–I'll say it plainly and without shame,– said Winona. –Sometimes I just want to walk away from it all.–
–You could. You're rich and famous. Get a farm in the Alps, live off royalties. With a solid economy, nothing would go wrong.–
–Sometimes I dream of it,– she admitted.
–But…–
–What stops me is that making movies is fun. Fulfilling,– she replied.
She took a long sip of champagne, but by the end of the party, she was completely drunk.
The band eventually joined the party. With so much to drink, no one paid much attention to the chaos each dance brought.
–Baby, take me home,– Monica said. –Make love to me.–
...
The bitter day had arrived. They made it home just as daylight hit the window. Monica pulled him into the shower, her provocative body brushing his. Even the slightest movement caused them to stumble. She gently grabbed Billy's member—her warm hands so skilled he had no choice but to bite her nipple as a moan of praise for this woman who made him feel alive, in every way.
She'd been aroused for some time, and in her boldness, she recalled Jodie's kiss and touch. Billy's intense gaze drew closer, triggering the fall of her underwear as soon as they entered. It wasn't a desire to feel, but a desire to give. To prove she still lacked much in fulfilling her truest pleasures. She was devoid of dopamine, hidden behind the transgressions of sweat and intimacy. She watched the veins rise in Billy's forehead and neck.
She turned with intent, her ass pushed back, trying not to slip in the tub, moving rhythmically with each thrust. When he pulled her hair—not too hard, just enough—it guided her exactly where she longed to be. Both of them focused on pleasing one another, unconcerned with any looming problem.
They changed positions again. She climbed onto his shoulders, her legs dangling as each stroke drove deeper.
–You're so daring,– Monica whispered.
She let him enter her slowly, overwhelming her. The moment was so intense he couldn't last long. He released inside her, thick and full, and she mentally celebrated it. The insecurity and allure of bearing a child etched into her thoughts. But the real issue didn't escape her.
–We need to sleep, darling.–
She slid down, took his cock, and tasted it. Her lips pressed the head, swallowing it all. Her touch worked him until he hardened again. And there, on the shower floor, he took her once more. Under the cascading water, they fought through a second round—like a battlefield—fueled by strength and patience, lasting as long as any lovers could dream.
With a steady rhythm, her breasts swayed and reshaped. She tried to release every emotion buried deep in her primal desires.
–Two rounds aren't enough. We need more,– Monica said, her tone near nymphomaniac desperation.
Wrapped in towels, too wired to sleep, they looked up, refusing Morpheus's embrace. They kissed again, their tongues dancing passionately, wrapping around each other until saliva ran dry. Then came a third round, stretching on until they collapsed, finally consumed by the exhaustion of such a long night.
.