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The entire class knew about my goals and the breakup, just as I knew about their lives and dreams; it was that kind of class, and hello: we were actors. It didn’t strike me until later that T was an exception. He performed, charmed us with his wit and charisma and drove students in need of rides home in his luxury car.
When I turned to seek a partner, T was right there. I sat in the car with other students, including a single mom, an elderly woman and a man who’d fled his homeland in seek of the American Dream.
() Kyle and I fell for his plot, and that month sublet became permanent.
Peering in his magnetic eyes, I felt naked and vulnerable. My ex never said such things; on the contrary, he’d felt threatened by my modeling and acting. T opened the sun roof, asked if we’d like to watch TV and told us we could turn our seat heaters or personal ACs on or off as we wished.
It all seemed pretentious, until I observed my fellow passengers beaming. ” “I’d love a water.” “I got it,” he said, declining my bill.
While other women in the class pined over him, I only had eyes for acting. And I certainly didn’t need to leap into another relationship so soon after my last. We met in an acting class, of which he was the star.