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When the Dogwoods Bloom

It was a long fall to the ground, but still I inched closer to the ledge, fearful of what she would do to me if I didn't end it now, if she caught up to me; this was my only way out. What could she do to me now though? She had already destroyed my life, my career, my reputation. Could I ever restore my good name? It was either this or hiding from the world until my demise, but I was a star and stars shine bright for everyone to see.

I was sweaty from the panic; my armpits felt sticky, and I damn near pissed myself looking down to the world below, the busy, chaotic world below, the hustle of Park Avenue eighty-five stories beneath me, as I stood mere centimeters from falling into the concrete, impressing my form to it, so they would have to repave it, to erase the memory of New York's pride and joy falling to her death.

First she stole the man I loved more than anything, and he had fallen for her, hadn't he? He had fallen so deeply in love with her that he was nearly willing to do anything. And he did, he did everything except pull the trigger (yet). He had run me through the wringer. It had begun much tenderer than this.

We were the only color that stood apart from the black and white world we lived in. We were passionately in love, couldn't dare take our hands off one another. He looked at me with hunger, that unsatiated expression he so often used to gaze upon me. There was only us in a world of nothingness.

I was a New Yorker, through and through, born and raised. I considered myself superior to most, and life merely proved me right until I met him: Hayden Walliser, who costarred with me in a film: After the Shadow. It was my twenty-eighth film since I began acting when I was seven. It was Hayden's fourth lead in a film, still naïve, still green. From day one, he showed interest, but my stance was to admire from a distance until I was ready to pounce. I didn't expect to fall in love so deeply. I just did what came naturally, with whomever I wanted.

I wasn't shy, no body would've ever believed I was hiding anything of significance, but I had plenty to hide: for instance, I had partaken in nearly every illegal substance that existed by the time I was eighteen-years-old. We were a spectacle to behold: the two most beautiful people to walk the earth, wholly committed to one another, and it was a given that we'd produce divine god-like children. We were the talk of Hollywood and Manhattan alike.

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