Short Story 4 Workshop

“Server/Actor”

John had just moved into a new apartment in downtown LA. As a stand up comedian, he had been getting noticed as of late and all that attention had allowed for a bit of a lifestyle upgrade. His balcony on the fourteenth floor of the high rise had an amazing view. You could see the entire Sunset Strip and, in the distance, you could see the rolling Hollywood Hills. The building was designed so that another wall of balconies ran parallel to his, but not in a way that detracted from the view. John enjoyed spending time on the balcony.

In the late afternoon, the hot winds rustled through John’s partially unbuttoned shirt and the breeze carried with it the grime of the city and the faintest tinge of saltwater. The sun was setting fast, but John still wore his sunglasses. He liked that they allowed for him to watch without being seen, or at least, that they gave the feeling of such. Enjoying himself while he sipped his beer, John remembered what someone had once mentioned to him about the Santa Ana’s, how the hot dry winds drove people off of the edge, and how it’s a proven fact that the crime rates soar when they occur. He laughed to himself and thought about how ridiculously sensitive some people could be. It sounded like superstitious bullshit to him and like most things that didn’t make sense to him, he quickly forgot about it. He enjoyed the warm breeze against his skin and felt lucky, basking in his good fortune. Everything good was going for him. His success as a writer on a popular TV show had gotten him hired as a writer for an upcoming awards show. An iconic actor who was hosting would be reading his words off a teleprompter. There were also talks with HBO producers and his own comedy special was in the works. He finished off the last of his beer and cracked open another as he let it all soak in. As a newly initiated Hollywood hotshot, he was on top of the world.

His gaze had been resting on the hazy hills but a sudden gust of warm dry heat from that direction brought him out of his daydreams and his vision, now slightly more in focus, was directed to what was no more than thirty feet in front of him. Up and down, left and right, his eyes slowly scaled the huge pattern of rectangles and lines in front of him. Like a small town investigator with nothing to investigate, John casually inspected each of the glass and concrete enclosures looking for nothing in particular. Rows and rows of empty rectangular boxes massaged his eyeballs with their pleasant consistency. It seemed that no one was home to enjoy a leisure afternoon on their balcony but him.

After a few more moments spent in vacant meditation, John noticed a man seated on the balcony almost directly facing him. How long had he been there? He wondered if the man has been watching him, but realized that he seemed to be in his own kind of personal trance. John raised his arm and gave a stiff salute kind of a wave, holding it there for a second before letting his hand drop back down to his side.

The tanned figure mirrored John as if in slow motion. He was a good looking guy with the kind of looks you’d expect in a soap opera star, with longish light brown hair, a square jaw, and a tall lean build. From what John could see he was relatively young, probably in his mid to late twenties. John laughed to himself as he looked down at the beer he had resting on his potbelly.

The next day in the elevator, John met his neighbor, whose name was Tim. He welcomed John to the building and told him he was an actor. John believed it because he was dressed as a waiter. Over the next several weeks, John would bump into Tim on occasion and they would make small talk. Usually, it was after getting home after a night out somewhere that John would run into Tim in the lobby, who was usually coming off work or looking worn out in some sweats.

For the most part he thought nothing of it, but from time to time he felt for the guy. Over the course of their conversations, John had learned that Tim had been in LA for a little over two years and hadn’t managed to land a single acting job. He had been working at one of the trendy and overpriced restaurants frequented by the Hollywood elite and others who could afford it, serving expensive French dishes while scrounging up doggy bags at the end of his shifts. John, who knew what it was like to be hard up, made it a point to try and get at least a chuckle out of him whenever he saw the opportunity and he’d invite him over sometimes when he had guests, although Tim never took him up on it. John never sensed that Tim felt any animosity toward him. He knew the guy was going through a low point and probably didn’t feel it was in his best emotional interest to surround himself with a bunch of people who had made it even though John knew that if he was in Tim’s boat he’d most likely be trying to meet as many made people as possible. Either way, the two were on friendly terms and John didn’t really pay attention to Tim and his woes.

One late night, after arriving back from the awards show John and his date stepped out onto his balcony to share one of John’s cigars. John was surprised to see Tim sitting outside, as if frozen. It was as if he hadn’t moved since John had last seen him there hours earlier.

For whatever reason, Tim didn’t seem to notice when John waved and John forgot about the pitiful sight. He took a puff of his cigar and turned back toward the beautiful brunette in front of him. If John felt any sort of guilt he wasn’t acknowledging it. He had worked hard and got lucky and it wasn’t his problem if Tim hadn’t. There was no danger of Tim bringing John down from the high life.

Early the next morning, John left town for some gigs outside the state. He was gone for a few weeks. When he got back from his trip, tired but invigorated from the travelling, he entered the lobby and immediately sensed that something was off. The place was completely deserted. There was a strange vibe and he wondered if the building had been evacuated. Still carrying his bags, John walked out to the pool deck where he was relieved to find Sean, the head of security.

“Sean, is everybody on vacation or something? It’s like a ghost town in here.”

“You haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?” He guessed Sean hadn’t missed him while he was gone.

“Your neighbor Tim? He killed himself.”

“You’re messing with me,” John replied. Something didn’t add up.

“He jumped. He jumped off his balcony. ”

John imagined Tim’s mangled corpse floating in the pool below him. It didn’t seem real. At the same time, he was glad that he had been gone when it happened. When he got inside his apartment, he wasn’t in the mood for a beer on the balcony.

In bed a few nights later, John was awakened by what sounded like a person howling. He would have brushed it off except it wouldn’t stop. He wondered if he had forgot to close door to the balcony, but realized that was impossible. He hadn’t set foot out there since he heard about Tim. What used to be his favorite place was now quarantined. He didn’t know what else to do besides ignore the strange noises and even after they ceased, John spent hours with one eye open trying to get back to sleep.

Suddenly he was awake again. A loud bang had him sitting straight up. He was terrified but tried to remind himself that there were hundreds of people in the building who could have made the noise. Again, there was a bang, and then again and again. It was coming from his apartment: from the living room. He hid under the covers, not knowing what to do. His cell phone was out there so he couldn’t call anyone.

After what seemed like hours spent in terror, John had reached a level beyond horrified and walked out into the living room. The gigantic wooden picture frame that was hanging from the wall was making the noise, as if being lifted and dropped back against the wall. Half amazed and out of his mind with fear, John thought he was dreaming. It was Tim, but why? He stepped out onto the balcony and started talking to the presence, not being able to think of another way to end the nightmare.

“I’m sorry about what you had to go through. I will make it a point to remember you.” He continued on like this and eventually he felt the presence fade. John knew that Tim was trying to let him know how lucky he was, and not to take it for granted.