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Chapter 3

A sudden panic grips him. Have they been trailing him all along? Snapping pictures when he’s not aware? How many crazy photos of himself are there online anyway? Flirting with the UPS man who delivered his flat screen TV, or adjusting his crotch as he watched the other guys in the weight room of Bally’s Gym, or hell, picking his jeans out from the crack in his ass as he got out of his car? Not to mention the nameless guys he paired off with in the clubs. Is nothingsacred?

Lou must see the scared look on his face because he gives Johnny a tight-lipped, sympathetic grin. “You want to be a star, again.Fine. I can do that. You have that classic, all-American look about you, those eyes, that hair, and God, that smile of yours is enough to get you front row seats at the Oscars, believe me. It won’t take much to get you back out there, I know. But you have to wantit—”

“I do,” Johnny assures him. He sits up straighter, leans forward, eager. “Lou, you just don’t know….”