Love Unscripted
Preface
“You never know which way the wind blows” was one of my father’s favorite expressions. I used to think it was silly; just one of those sayings we tell ourselves when we don’t think we have control over our own destiny.
But I’ve since come to realize that sometimes when those winds of change blow, they’re strong enough to toss you into a whole new world, and you really have no control over where you fly or how you land.
I’d always been quite content with my life; it was fairly easy and predictable with only a hint of drama here and there caused by an occasional light breeze. There were a few times when Mother Nature hit me with her best shot, but I always managed to land on my feet.
Somewhere along the line I actually thought I had gained control over the weather, keeping the possibility of a terrible storm always at bay.
That was until the day the wind blew through my door and carried me away.
Chapter 1 - Eye of the Storm
“Ooh, ooh, Taryn, turn it up!” Marie pointed frantically in the air while making a gin and tonic with her other hand.
Her sudden excitement caught me off-guard and made me jump. I quickly grabbed the television remote, fumbling to adjust the volume of the evening news. I should have known better; there was only one thing Marie or any of the other women in town felt was newsworthy these days, and it wasn’t that the mall was having a shoe sale. I don’t even think “free shoes” could have been more exciting to them.
Soon after my thumb hit the button on the remote I became slightly perturbed, but it was too late to correct my mistake. The damage was already done.
“Looks like the obsessive fans caused another traffic jam today,” I said, laughing lightly, trying to pretend like I actually cared.
For a moment I thought I was watching a repeat of yesterday’s news report. The news camera panned a large crowd of frantic girls who lined up along side of the road - again. They were trying to spy on the movie crew as they filmed on one of our local beaches - again, hoping for the random chance to get a glimpse of “him.”
Between all of the cars that were parked haphazardly and the girls running back and forth across the street, traffic on Ocean View Drive was almost at a standstill. The police were trying their best to move the chaos away from the area, inadvertently creating more chaos in the process.
“I’m sure all of their ‘I Love Ryan’ posters will capture his attention,” I stated jokingly, rolling my eyes at the absurdity of it all.
From what I had seen and heard about him, I presumed he didn’t care the slightest bit about the teenyboppers and their childish signs of love and adoration. Still, their actions perplexed me to no end. What possessed these girls – many of them grown women – to take the time out of their day to decorate poster board and stand along side a busy roadway? Do they actually think he may just stop one day?
“Darling, your sign with my name written in florescent pink with silver hearts is such a brilliant artistic representation of my life. It validates my existence and makes me so hot. Please… come… run away with me…” I tugged on Marie’s arm, pretending to be “him.”
A few of the patrons sitting at the bar laughed at my theatrics, while the girls who were being interviewed by the news reporter on TV screamed just a bit louder. I pointed the remote back at the television and quickly lowered the volume of their ear-piercing shrieks; I really wanted to change the channel.
“Hang on a sec, I want to see this,” Marie defended quickly, dismissing my actions with her hand. Her eyes stared intently at the screen.
“Ahh! See, he’s on again!” Marie squealed with excitement. Several ladies sitting at the bar lurched off of their stools to get a better view of the television.
“Hey - watch what you’re doing.” I pointed.
Marie was so preoccupied watching the news she speed-poured vodka on the outside of the glass.
“Damn, look at him! He’s so freakin’ gorgeous,” Traci, one of my regular customers, shouted.
A group of businessmen sitting at one of the tables nearest to the television booed loudly and then requested for me to turn ESPN on instead.
Unconsciously, my eyes flashed back to the television to see what the big deal was, but I only saw part of his head as he climbed into the back seat of a car.
It had only been about two weeks since “he” and “the cast” descended on our town but I was already tired of hearing about them. The local news and radio stations talked about the actors incessantly, to the point that it became overkill. I tried desperately to remember what life was like before they landed, but it was difficult.