Playing Along by Rory Samantha Green

up.
    “And just so you know,” says Lexi in a confiding tone, “He’s
not
my boyfriend.”

GEORGE
17 th November, 2009
Beverly Hills
    The band’s van pulls up outside Noori Noori, a sushi restaurant Gabe has heard is excellent. As the valet parker opens the door, George catches the bizarre sight in the front window of a plate cartwheeling through the air, sending food flying. He pauses.
    “Did you see that?” asks George, looking back at Simon quizzically.
    “Food fight!” yells Duncan, “I’m in!”
    “I might have steered us wrong,” says Gabe. “Looks like it’s a Yo Sushi production line.”
    “Spare me the gimmicks,” says Simon, who considers authentic Japanese food to be a close second to a vintage sandwich.
    “Let’s go to that one on Melrose,” says Mark. “You can’t beat an old trusty.”
    “I’ll call over there,” says Gabe, apologizing to the valet parker as he reaches over to close the door again.
    George has a sudden urge to get out of the car and walk. People in LA appear to have an aversion to walking which makes it even more appealing.
I’ll be a rebel
thinks George.
I’ll walk to Melrose
. He has this idea that he is less conspicuous in LA because the town is teeming with famous people—most of them gagging for recognition just to confirm they exist. In comparison, George just ends up looking vaguely familiar, like the boy you once went to school with or the guy who works in the supermarket. The more famous George becomes, the more he fantasizes about being innocuous. The paradox confounds him—how his lifelong ache to be special has led him to a place of yearning to be ordinary.
    Before the door closes, he impulsively hops out.
    “George, I thought it was unanimous?” says Gabe, looking confused.
    “It is. It was—it’s only that I’ve decided to walk.”
    “Are you off your rocker?” says Duncan. “We’re in LA. You don’t do that here.”
    “You might get shot,” says Anna in all seriousness.
    “Or abducted,” adds Mark, forever dry. “And we’re not paying ransom.”
    “Come on, George, I’m hungry. Get back in,” says Simon.
    “Look fellas—honestly—it’s no big deal. It will take twenty minutes. I’ll see you there.”
    Gabe looks especially concerned. “George, it’s not a good idea, really. I just don’t feel right about it. Why walk now?”
    “I want to,” replies George, wondering if this will be enough.
    “It’s because I let a juicy one rip, Gabe,” calls Duncan from the back seat. “Release him!”
    George feels determined now to follow through, even though he could just as easily climb back into the car. He knows this is beginning to border on the ridiculous. The most mundane thing has become an oddly meaningful act of defiance.
    “I don’t need a secret service detail—yet. I’ve got my phone on me. I just need to stretch my legs. I’ll see you there, Gabe, I promise.”
    Gabe looks bewildered and reluctantly closes the door. As the van drives away, he rolls down the window, “Are you sure you know where it is?”
    “I know!” says George, feeling a surge of liberation. He could get lost. Disappear. Resurface. Re-invent himself in another guise. He thinks of all his fans, all the people he’s never even met who feel a claim over him. He could transform himself into one of them. Spend his days monitoring his own website contributing to conspiracy theories about his own disappearance. Trippy.
    He glances one more time in the window of the Sushi restaurant. Happy couples on double dates. Laughing. Drinking. Fitting closely together as if carved from the same stone. He needs to walk.

LEXI
November 17 th , 2009
Beverly Hills
    After an excruciating two hours, a hundred more declarations of ‘hilarious’, and Jason the waiter slipping her his phone number when she went to the restroom, Lexi is now waiting to bid a jubilant farewell to Bradley. Meg hustles her into the back of the car as soon as the valet drives up, while