Blind Love

Blind Love

By

Jasmine Bowen

Edited
by Yvan C. Goudard - Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Rhetorical Ratatouille/Jasmine Bowen - All
Rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Preface

Blind Love

About The Author

Discover

Credits

***

Caius
is a normal red blooded male, with superstar traits. His movies are
a smash hit, his body is toned and insatiable, and his smile is
enough to send any woman over the edge. But like everyone, he has a
secret: Caius is blind, and only a handful of persons are aware of
his disability.

When
he gets nominated for an Oscar, he must figure out how to accept
the award without knowing the theatre layout, nor his seating
arrangement. He calls his best friend, Emily, in to assist him, but
with an ulterior motive. As each year goes on, Caius' love for
Emily burns white hot. As a Hollywood superstar, he can have any
woman in the world… except, it seems, for the one he
wants!

***

“And
the final nominee for best actor… Caius Von Camp,
‘Foresight’!”

He
heard the cameras clicking incessantly, and couldn’t help by grin
as the crowd roared their approval. Any actor worth his salt would
time a press conference with the Oscar Nominations, if he thought
he had been short-listed. Here he was, thirty two years old and
only his second feature film, and nominated. The future was bright
for Caius, with his megawatt smile and shaggy blond hair. His
career was soaring, and he was close to being the highest paid
actor in Hollywood. His head pounded slightly from last night’s
antics, a regular occurrence: women, booze, good music. Everything
in life was perfect. His lean, toned body was lightly tanned,
already landing him on People’s ‘Most Beautiful’ list twice in a
row.

Beside
him, he felt his manager grip his arm, gently, as he leaned into
the microphone.

“Thank
you for attending today’s press conference for the publicity tour
of ‘Foresight’, which has just been nominated for several awards,
including best actor. All questions can be directed towards the
Press Office.”

And
with one last wave to the crowd, Caius let himself be led off
stage. His trademark sunglasses were needless in the lack of
backstage light, but he kept them on anyways.

“Congrats, kid,” his manager said, stopping just behind the
curtains. “And they say you’ll win, too. It’s a shoe in. Seeing you
up there accepting that award will just about seal you in history.
Forever!”

Caius
bit his lip, suddenly thinking of something:

“Oscars are a big one, eh? These aren’t little MTV awards… you
aren’t allowed to stumble on stage, clutching your date’s
arm…”

“No,
kid.”

Phil
realized it at the same time his client did, and put a hand to his
mouth:

“Shit!”

“It’s
ok,” Caius replied with a shrug and an uneasy smile, “We’ll figure
it out.”

“Security will be tight in the theatre. They won’t let you
scope it out, for fear you’ll tamper with the envelopes or
something.”

“It’s
ok.”

Caius
reached up to pull off his sunglasses:

“Call
Emily for me, will ya? I have a feeling we’re going to need
her.”

And
then he turned to face his manager full on, his sightless eyes
nearly white in the darkness.

*

Caius
had been blind since birth, and had never let it stop him from
doing anything. His parents made no allowances for him, introducing
him to music, letting him walk the playground the day before school
started so he could learn how to play on it. His exceptional talent
in music made them think that, perhaps, he had found a career that
would suit his sight; there were many blind musicians. But one day,
in seventh grade, Caius was asked to lend his angelic voice to the
school’s production of ‘Joseph and the Dream Coat’, and his life
changed forever. Not only was he bitten by the acting bug, but he
met Emily, who would go on to become his best friend. Playing
opposite him, Emily took the extra time after rehearsals – often
staying at the school until midnight – to help him learn his
blocking, walking him through the steps and finding his props that
were carefully placed. She recorded the entire script into his
phone so that it would read it to him. When opening night came, the
pair of them received seven standing ovations. Many of the parents
who came had no idea that the lead actor was sightless, his blue
contact-lenses hiding the deformity.

That
was when Phil had gotten word of him, himself a young manager in
Hollywood with recent success. He kept an eye on Caius through his
twelve other productions in public school and college, finally
approaching him in his sophomore college year.

It
took three directors firing him on the first day before they
figured out that his sight was going to hold him back forever. Only
then did they begin to hide it, with contact-lenses, with an act of
an aloof and private life; contracts stating that Caius was a
control-freak diva who needed the set to himself for a day before
production started. He learned the sets, the blocking, learned to
listen to every tiny audio cue, aim his head in the right
direction, just as he had done in school. Together, with Phil at
his back and Emily at his side, his career began to take
off.

Of
course, he couldn’t hide it forever. However, by the time the cast
and crew figured it out, they were all too overjoyed to work with
him; his talent was soaring and his personality drawing them in.
Confidentially agreements were signed, extra assistants were hired,
and the secret was kept. Caius had no interest in having his
eye-sight define him, and swore that the public must never know his
secret, or he would gain only the pity vote. After twelve years in
the industry, the only people who knew were the people he
frequently worked with: the same director for two films, the same
crew for his TV series and a film. And they all swore on their
lives to protect him, wanting him to succeed.

And
then there was Emily; kind, gentle Emily who had left acting after
school to work in finance. Their friendship, now separated by many
miles, continued to exist through phone calls, and occasional
visits. Still, she would come when he needed her, and this was one
of those times.

“But
what if you don’t get the Oscar?” she asked, dressed in sweatpants
and curled up on her couch, the phone pressed to her ear. She had
called him twice before he picked up, eager to catch up after a
week of silence. “I better not use the last of my vacation time to
help you for nothing!”

“So,
you want me to rig it or something?” he asked, with a grin, sitting
on his own couch, three thousand miles away. His schedule had been
insane lately, and it was good to hear her voice. “Look, it’s held
in the same place every year. So all you have to do is watch a
million years of Oscar to memorize it.”

“Wait,
we can’t get into the theatre beforehand? (This made her sit up
straight) For a walk through?”

“This
is the whole problem, Em,” he replied, “have you been
listening?”

She
sighed, glancing at the tabloid magazine she had bought earlier
that day. There he was, grinning up at her from the glossy page. In
a way, he seemed so different than the boy she had befriended at
school. However, ten seconds of his banter made her realize nothing
had changed.