Yes

I woke up shivering and with a sour taste in my mouth.

It felt like a layer of dirt was covering my teeth. I sighed out heavily and hid my face in my pillow. It was way too early to get up just yet even though I didn’t have any idea what time it was what so ever. As I lay there, I started becoming aware of how loud everything was.

The sound of passing cars down from the street, my neighbor drilling in the wall and my refrigerator, desperately trying to keep out the warm August air, was deafening.

I got up and looked around my apartment. How did I get home again?

A sudden wave of realization hit me.

Fuck… I’d actually spend the most of my night in the company of the actor Norman Reedus. And we’d talked about my work; he’d offered to help me get a part in one of his friend’s production. And he’d asked for my phone number. We’d partied together, taken shots together and shared jokes. I chuckled to myself and shook my head. As if it makes it any different that it’s Norman Reedus.

He’s just a normal guy…

But I couldn’t help but to feel a little excited; a weird feeling bubbled in my stomach and my lips were parted in a wide smile.

I spend the rest of the day trying to survive my hangovers. It was really bad; the last thing I could remember from last night was standing with my face buried in Norman’s chest surrounded by paparazzi and curious by-passers. And then waking up.

It had been a fun night though. I smiled at the thought that he had my number.

Would he call? Text?

I shook my head.

Stop obsessing over this dude, we just met yesterday! I thought to myself. And he didn’t ask for your number to keep it, he wanted to help you get work! Seriously brain, work with me here…

But again, an epiphany struck down and shook my world.

My phone was broken.

And I couldn’t afford a now one or to get it fixed.

At least not with keeping the number I’d given Norman...

I lit a cigarette and started biting the red-painted nail on my thumb desperately, thinking hard. After some minutes of pure anxiety I gave up.

Guess that’s a lost cause…

Why was I so clumsy? Dropping my phone and then forgetting about it when finally something’s happening, bringing me closer to a possible job. I wanted to kick myself in the ass.

..................................................................

It had been two weeks since the night I met Norman Reedus.
I had given up all hope of being contacted by him or his friend. How was he going to do it? I’d given him a phone number that didn’t work. He probably thought I’d given him a fake one.

Like you always see in the movies where girls just pass a random number and leave the guy with hopes of something more only for them to realize the girl had never been interested.

So I went on with my life, trying to forget it. It’d been an experience I needed to keep up trying to find work and not just giving up. Though, I really had myself considering just applying for a job as a waitress. Or at McDonalds…

What if he had asked his friend and he’d already found another actress for the part? I hadn’t really considered that option before. I shook my head once again.

I really had to move on. This arguing with myself over what might have happened if I’d been a bit more clever instead of clumsy had to stop.

So I did.

..........................................................................

I was on a cleaning spree. When you haven’t got anything else to do, cleaning suddenly becomes a very exciting hobby.

At least for me it does.

I’d just finished cleaning the bathroom when my doorbell rang.

Finally! I thought to myself and ran for the door, brushing my crazy curls out of my face with the back of my hand. I was sweating and my stereo was blasting out a number of The Stooges: No fun.

I could feel my stomach cheering with me as I opened the door to greet the pizza delivery guy; I hadn’t pulled myself together for shopping groceries. And Turkish pizza was one of my favorite foods.

“Hi, thanks for th…”

My heart skipped a beat.

There, casually leaning against my doorframe was Norman Reedus.

He was just as I remembered him; tall, lean, broad shoulders, dark long hair and a crooked smile on his lips. He was wearing his ray bans and a leather jacket, one of his hands in his pocket, the other holding a paper bag.

“So…” he said while looking me up and down, “you pussied out?”