Jack Ellison (POV)
"-If you wanna be an astronaut, you go right ahead! If I managed to write at my age, imagine what you could do with a few dedicated years of prep Jack."
I smile beatifically at the overcharged hellion… my fellow namesake, all the while he nearly shook my arm off with his energy alone, before finally allowing a much-needed chance to rub my strained shoulders.
"Thank you-thank you so much, Jack — It means a lot coming from you!!!" Are my eyes playing tricks on my mind, or is he blushing down his neck?
"Hey now, I'm just a kid whose endless scribbles turned out to be worth something, but an astronaut! Man, you'll go to space and all — just imagine the view from up there, right? How about this Jack? When you finally achieve your dream, don't forget to mail me then, I would love to hear all about it, capiche?"
He nodded furiously before tucking the hardcover copy in his arms and making his way to his parents at my right, who ruffled his head, smiling at me like I had done them a big favor.
Sigh… sometimes, censoring myself and formulating sentences appropriate for a 12-year-old can get fucking tiring.
Luckily, I have the confines of my mind, where I can swear and bitch at whatever the hell I want… as long as I don't verbalise any of it.
Started doing it a few years ago, and now? Practically a coping mechanism, required to maintain my sanity, or whatever's left of it.
And the most arduous part of it? Not slip up in front of my cherished family, and puncturing a hole through my innocent facade in their eyes.
It's why I like hanging out with Vince nowadays. My agent may be many things, but a snitch?! Fuck no.
I think he's aware of the fact that if he doesn't stay in my good books, he'll be replaced before long with someone from a more reputable talent agency, so he usually turns a blind eye when I elicit the occasional curse word.
Any other kid, and he would be enabling them straight to a path of entitlement, lucky for him… I'm me.
Hours go by, as the street darkens outside, and the bookstore crowd starts thinning, slowly but surely. The line starts getting shorter and shorter until I finally meet the last lucky pair before my time runs out.
"Oh my God, you're actually him! You're like… so little!" Catty high school girls… of course. My luck just had to run out at the end. At least she didn't mean to be cruel, more amused than anything.
I deadpanned while signing the book, "Careful there, I get any more little and they'll start charging you half-price for the autograph."
They burst out laughing… giggling more like.
The other girl was clearly feeling a tad more adventurous than her friend, "So, what's it like being famous when you still need your mom to drive you places?" She teased, leaning in.
I shrugged with a smirk, "Convenient. She's my chauffeur, cook, and editor." Before my eyes widened dramatically as I looked up, "Don't tell her I said that."
That earns another laugh, but this time it's warmer. Clearly, my witty quips worked as intended.
As I hand their signed copies back, each with a tiny bunny doodle — she reaches out and ruffles my hair because… screw boundaries, right?
"You're adorable! Don't grow up too fast, yeah?"
I rolled my eyes as an easy smile made its way to my face, "I'll certainly try… let me tell you though, the deadlines aren't helping much."
They walk off, still laughing like lunatics. Well, I won't judge them too harshly; they are after all, fans of my work. Anyone who is ain't dumb, that much I am sure of.
"Well-well-well," A drawl sounds from my back. "Look who's a charmer and half!"
I replied without turning, "Not a word, Vince. Don't you start." And no matter what anyone said, my cheeks were not flushed in the least.
He chuckled obnoxiously, clearly enjoying this more than he had any right to.
"Come on now, Linda's been hoping for this you know? Oh, can't wait to see how that goes…" He continued chuckling, a little more menacing than I wished it to be.
Eager to change the subject, I went off, "Hey Vince, this is the 4th book signing now, you sure Susan's got this? Shouldn't we ought to, oh I don't know- flip the script a little? I hear Times mag reached out-" He stopped me with a scoff, before patting my shoulder.
"Relax Jack, you are in good hands. I can vouch for them. In fact… I'm gonna clue you in on a little fact."
I nodded for him to go on, "Susan's a protege of Joni Evans, the President of S & S. You know the best part? Joni is the wife of Dick Snyder, the CEO. Now a CEO is a-"
"Yeah I know what a CEO is dipshit… but damn. Guess I'm covered then."
He chortled in confidence, "Oh, more than covered, trust me. They got people on every base, and you're on the deck. You better believe they want a grand slam here."
I stand up, stretching my arms out, "Well then, let's not disappoint 'em, shall we? Don't want 'em to call a pinch hitter after all…"
I'm enjoying this, don't get me wrong, just… It's getting all kinds of tedious you know?
Going from one bookstore to another, charging a dollar or two each, all for my hand to get cramped up every now and then.
Then again, can't exactly complain if I don't want my momentum to die down. Yep, apparently I underestimated the shitstorm my interview would cause. Never thought I would find a situation in real life, where the phrase, 'smothered in praise' would understate but… Yeah.
You get the gist.
Just last week, People's Magazine reached out, wanting to do a feature on me for their 'Most Intriguing People of 1985' list, not to mention a collab with Guinness for the record-breaking sales at my age. The collab might get published in a month or two, but the list? I'll have to wait until year-end to see some impact.
Nonetheless, the PR team is more than happy with it, something about a resurgence in sales after they dwindle during spring. And who the hell am I to question their tactics, when my knowledge of marketing might as well amount to zilch in comparison.
But the media blitz… It's got its fair share of downsides. The biggest of which is a reduced timespan to focus on writing my next work, which I doubt will be ready by even October, the way things are going.
And juggling school along with it all, having to travel across the country on top… sometimes, I really wish I had the freedom to focus on a single thing right now.
Just somewhere I could commit my hundred percent, without splitting my focus on a variety of shit together, I am only 12 after all. Not mentally sure, but this tiny little package does have its physical limitations to be frank, and goddamn it- I want my nap time!
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??? (POV)
The cushioned seat is heavy with my weight, as I hold my head above the desk, rubbing my eyes every now as they move around from paper to paper, casting notes, polaroids of young actors before finally settling on a dog-eared copy of the novel, 'The Body'.
My sight finally settles on a headshot, notably separate from the rest. River Phoenix.
What a phenomenal kid. I had auditioned dozens of kids, and not a single one of them could convince me of the fact that they had seen too much, but still wanted to be good, and then — enter River.
Emotions were spot on, his thoughts on the character made sense, for a child that is, introspective for his age group.
Don't get me wrong, his audition for Gordie was amazing, no one could compare but the kid… he just screamed Chris to me.
Right then, the door flew open as Marty barged in without reservation, waving a VHS tape.
"Rob I'm telling you, you wanted Chris? Guess what, I got him!" He smiles widely, trying to shimmy the tape in the slot.
I shake my head dryly, "Too little too late, Marty. I got my choice right here- you remember the phoenix kid who came in for Gordie? He's a shoo-in for this-"
"Shut up just- shut up, Rob. You watch this, and then I'll listen to whatever." He raises his hand towards me while reaching for the remote with the other.
I sigh in exasperation, "I swear to God, Marty, if this is another pretty boy from Disney Channel-" only to be cut off unceremoniously.
"No. No-hell no. Seriously, buddy, just give it a whirl, would you? Watch." He said before turning back to the screen, now filled to the edge with Carson's stage lights.
And then I see him. Jack Ellison. The wunderkind. The talk of the town nowadays.
Small but sharp, trading barbs and quips with Johnny, seasoned and in control. He cracks a joke, the audience laughs, but then his expression shifts as he talks about kids being misunderstood… about stories helping people face pain sideways.
"That's him. The novelist. Prodigy from what I've heard in passing."
Marty nods along before directing his face at me, " Exactly! Look at him. See how he flips from smart-ass to sincere in two seconds? He's got something Rob. Put a pack of smokes in his pocket, muss up that hair – tell me you can't see Chris Chambers staring back at you."
"Chris isn't precocious." I speak hesitantly, "He's raw. Jack, on the other hand… Clean. Little too clean if I say so-"
"Sure, on Carson. Everybody's clean there. But you've seen his interviews now and then, yeah? The edge is there Rob. Concealed beneath layers, but it's there. When he talks about what inspired his stories- the kid's got scars clear as day!" He paused for a second before continuing, "He just hides them better than most."
"Sometimes the only way to face something heavy is to look at it sideways."
'Huh. Clever kid.' I think to myself as a soft smile graces my lips.
"He's still a writer Marty. No priors in acting, and you want him to be a part of the ensemble-"
"Oh shush you." He smirked before fast-forwarding the tape.
"All right Jack, let's wrap this up with a final question, shall we? Now, I have heard some chatter– don't ask me where, but reportedly… You played the role of George Gibbs in your school production of 'Our Town', and rather well, from what I heard. Now what I am getting at is– was it an extracurricular fancy, or do you have plans to branch out?"
I glance at Marty only to meet his smug eyes nodding towards the screen… and so I settled back in my chair.
"It's been my dream John. Ever since I picked up a pen. I am a storyteller, as I told you, and being a part of someone else's, not just writing one, but actually being a part of the process… I hope it transforms into something more than a dream. Sooner or later John. But someday… I'm hoping with all my heart here."
"Damn."
"Exactly my reaction! Damn." Marty spreads his arms in triumph. "Come on Rob, let's bring him in. Hell, let him read both Gordon and Chris if you want – just see where he lands! You want a kid who can carry grief under wisecracks? You got him man, he's a call away."
I pull River's headshot closer, then glance at the frozen frame of Jack smiling shyly on the screen.
After contemplating for a minute, I sigh audibly. "Not Gordie, River'll do fine with him. Do me a favor Marty, ring up his agent. Let's call him in for Chris."
He grins while meeting my eye, "You won't regret this, Rob. I have a good feeling 'bout this, just you wait."
Author's Note: Anyone enjoying this even remotely, don't forget to review it, yeah? Feedback pushes me to be better after all, and goes a hell of a long way in keeping my juices pumping.