….
The night air carried a cool ocean breeze through the canyon roads, sweeping away the heavy heat of the day.
The Aston Martin DB7 cut smoothly along the winding hills, the sprawling grid of Los Angeles glowing like a sea of amber lights in the valley below.
Neither of them was looking at the view.
Alex kept his hands steady at ten-and-two on the wheel, his focus glued to the dark pavement ahead, while Julie leaned back in the passenger seat, staring out her window into the dark.
The heavy silence stretched on until Julie turned toward him, her sharp eyes studying his profile.
“Hey, Alex,” she said, her voice dropping into a deliberate, teasing edge.
“I gave you my darkest secrets tonight.
Fair’s fair.
You owe me one of yours.
A trade—or call it hush money.”
Alex kept his eyes on the road, his tone completely even.
“Call it whatever you like, Julie.”
“Don’t be boring,” she pressed, leaning closer across the leather console.
“Why act like a kid hoarding secrets?”
Alex considered it for a second before offering a faint, dry smirk.
“My story isn’t nearly as dramatic as yours.
The only thing remotely noteworthy is how an established Hollywood star helped me open a few doors.”
Julie looked unimpressed.
“An affair with a star?
That’s not a secret in this town, Alex.
That’s practically a requirement.”
“Fair enough,” Alex admitted softly.
“It’s ordinary.
But without that chance encounter at a dive bar, I’d still be busking for pocket change on the Strip or sleeping on a bench in North Hollywood.
It gave me a foot in the door.”
“She’s older than you, right?” Julie’s interest flared, her tone carrying a sharp, invasive curiosity.
“What’s it like carrying on with someone established while you’re still trying to get your name on a call sheet?”
She was looking for validation—some proof that everyone in this town was playing the same messy, compromised game.
Yet, under the influence of the late-night drive and the weight of her earlier confessions, he felt a quiet pull to speak plainly.
“It feels like eating candy coated in poison,” Alex said quietly.
He began to outline the reality of it—the chaotic night at the bar, the quiet sanctuary of an apartment that felt miles away from the public eye, and the intense, complicated dynamic of two people using each other for comfort against the noise of the industry.
He spoke plainly, stating facts without romanticizing the mess.
Julie listened intently, hanging on every detail.
“Who is she?”
Alex let out a quiet breath.
“That’s private, Angie.
You know I can’t give you a name.”
“Tch.
Stingy,” she muttered, though she didn’t look away.
Talking openly in the quiet cabin of a luxury car at midnight created a strangely tense, charged atmosphere.
Alex could feel the pull of the taboos they were skirting—two outsiders swapping truths in the dark while the city raced past them.
As his voice dropped lower, describing the emotional weight and raw friction of navigating that kind of relationship, he noticed Julie’s breathing change.
Her posture shifted, her eyes growing dazed and intense under the dash lights.
Suddenly, she reached across the center console, her hands moving with sudden, unpredictable aggression toward his belt.
Slam.
Alex reacted instantly, tapping the brakes while bringing his right hand down firmly over her wrist, locking her in place before she could reach the buckle.
“Angie!
Stop!”
The sudden brake and his firm grip snapped her out of it.
Her eyes cleared, shifting rapidly from dazed confusion to pure, sharp humiliation and fury.
“Let go of me!” she snapped, trying to wrench her wrist free, her expression twisting like a cornered animal.
“Why are you stopping?
You want this too!
Don’t play saint with me—your body doesn’t lie!
You want the mess just as much as I do!
Just like you did with your famous actress!”
Her voice cracked with the sting of rejection, her face pale under the passing streetlights.
Alex maintained his grip on her wrist—firm enough to hold her still, but careful not to hurt her.
He looked at her, his expression a mix of quiet authority and genuine concern.
“Angie, listen to me,” he said, his voice dropping into a deep, steady register.
“I’m not doing this, and it has nothing to do with whether you’re attractive or not.”
He met her furious gaze directly. Visit g.com for the full chapter.
“If you want my advice, stop trying to get back at your father like this.
Stop using self-destruction as a weapon against him.”
Julie winced as if struck, but Alex didn’t back down.
“You want revenge on Jon Voight?
You want him to actually take you seriously?
To make him realize what he ignored?” Alex leaned in closer, his eyes intense.
“Then let your work do it.
Become the most undeniable, brilliant actress this town has ever seen.
Build a career so big that he has to look up at your name on every marquee in the country.”
He paused, letting the words settle.
“That’s the only hit that will ever land.
That’s real payback.”
His eyes swept over her tense posture and the angry tears welling in the corners of her eyes.
“Instead of tearing yourself apart in backseats and dive bars just to get a reaction out of a man who isn’t even watching…
take control of your own life.
You’re young, you have raw talent, and you have a look that the camera is going to love.
Build a future that belongs to Angelina Jolie—not Jon Voight’s daughter.”
The stern, almost protective lecture acted like a bucket of ice water, completely snuffing out the charged tension in the car.
In its place erupted pure, defensive rage at having her armor stripped away so easily.
“Shut up!
Just shut the hell up!”
She yanked her hand free with a desperate pull, slamming back against her seat with a force that rattled the door frame.
“It’s none of your business how I live my life!
I’ll tear it down if I want to!
What do you know about me?
Who do you think you are—some moral authority who climbed into the industry through a back door?
You have zero right to lecture me!”
The cabin fell back into a heavy, suffocating silence—louder than before, punctuated only by the low hum of the engine and her sharp, ragged breathing as she fought back her anger.
Alex didn’t say another word.
He simply gripped the wheel, adjusted his rearview mirror, and drove silently through the canyon toward the address she had given him.
….
-Krazybro