Three.
Two.
One.
Let the carnage begin.
“Noah Sloan, child actor at age seven, Oscar winner by age thirteen, Hollywood bad boy at seventeen, then vanishing, doing only low-budgeted indie films, only to reappear at age twenty-seven. You’ve captured all the headlines after being cast as the lead in the upcoming movie Sinners Like Us as well as your recent run-in with the police and of course your whirlwind romance with fellow child star, Amelia London, along with the current situation with your father…wow. Some year.”
I smiled. “Tell me about it. And it isn’t even over yet.”
“All of the information I just recited can be found in just a common search. I want to truly understand who you are, and when I got this interview, I figured I’d get a list of topics to stay away from. To my surprise, there wasn’t one, so nothing is off the table and everything is fair game.”
Goddamn it, Austin. “I’d tell you to do your worst, but I’m sure you didn’t need my permission for that.”
“I don’t. So let’s get right to it,” she said, leaning in slightly, “You were scouted by an agency while shopping with your step mother, Pegi, who later abandoned you and your step-brother?”
I didn’t want to talk about her or anyone relating to my family from my start—I’m sure she knew that, but didn’t care.
“Yes, we went looking for new shoes after I was jumped walking home on the corner of 47th and Mitch. She was so scared Frank would find out, and she went into her room and got an old peanut butter jar from a hole in the wall by her dresser. It was her ‘runny day fund,’ as she liked it call it.”
“She was scared that Frank, your father, would find out your shoes were stolen?”
I shook my head. If it only were that simple. “She was scared Frank would find out I gave up my shoes without a fight. That day, on the corner of 47th and Mitch, I knelt down, took off my shoes, and handed them over. They laughed in my face, called me a little bitch, but then let me go. In my mind, I figured shoes weren’t worth getting stabbed over.”
“Seems highly logical for a seven-year-old. And your father wouldn’t have been okay with this?”
“You’ve never been to Southbend, have you?” I asked, and she shifted uncomfortably before replying no. “The rules are different. Me giving up my shoes meant I wasn’t a fighter, and if I wasn’t a fighter, I was a bitch—not the title Frank wanted for his sons. So Pegi, worried Frank was going to beat me near dead, took me to the mall. While we were there, a scout came up to her and asked her if she ever thought of having me model.” I smiled remembering the look on Pegi’s face. She nearly took me and ran, thinking this man was some type of pedophile. “Pegi laughed it off until he gave her his card along with some other information. We filled everything out, and he took my photo.”
“And the shoes?”
The smile on my face dropped. “We got them, but when we got home, Frank already knew. And instead of hurting me, he took it out on her. My brother and I sat on the stairs, too scared to move as he gave her a black eye and broke her nose and arm in two places. That was the last time I ever gave up anything without a fight. Pegi stayed and protected my brother and me until she physically couldn’t anymore. She didn’t abandon us, she saved us. And I’m thankful for it. I would not be who I am today if it weren’t for the sacrifices she made for me.”
“Before I get into your father, I want talk about your career for a little bit,” she said, obviously not wanting me to adjust to any of her questions. “Your rise to fame was fast. I remember seeing both of you—between your hit sitcom, movies, and commercials, you were a household name. What was it like coming up from a place like Southbend to living like a rockstar almost over night?”
“Fun,” I said truthfully, shrugging my shoulders. “I was traveling the world, and I had people willing to give me anything I wanted. I honestly can’t describe it in any way other than ‘fun.’ It was the crashing down that was the hard part. I, like most child stars, got used to the limelight, so when it was taken off, it was painful, because all of a sudden, you’re worthless and you’ve spent your whole life doing only this one thing. The rest of the world scares you … returning to Southbend scared me. ”
“Please say your fall, even though you had a few hit movies afterward, began the moment you cheated on Amelia London when you were teenagers. Do you agree, and do you regret it?”
Well, people can kiss my ass…I didn’t actually cheat. But I couldn’t tell the truth about that.
“Yes, I regret ever hurting Amelia and everything that happened. Because I truly loved her, I still love her,” I replied, trying my hardest to think of how to say this. “Did my fall have to do with her? I don’t know. We were kids. The whole world was watching us. We couldn’t breathe. We were trying to grow up, deal with the media, expand our careers, an
d hold on to each other. It was too much for a couple of love-struck teenagers. We were doomed to fail, and we did. But like you said, I went on to act in some incredible movies, winning awards across the country and Europe, as did she. So as painful as it was to suddenly not be with her, I didn’t see myself as having fallen.”
“But you did. The fights, the underage drinking, the string of rehabs stints—so if not her, what? Your father?”
Reaching into my pocket, I put my pill bottle on the table. “Neither the fights nor the underage drinking are things I can justify, but I’m sure the drinking added to the fights. Most of the fights started because of comments I wish I had never heard. Others, for no reason other than guys trying to show off. However, the string of rehabs stints were all due to a medical condition I kept from the public for personal reasons. But the truth is, I suffer from an anxiety disorder. Any drastic change in my mood will leave me almost paralyzed, trembling on the floor.”
“I don’t understand? Why hide this? Why rehab?” she asked, reaching to pick up the bottle.
“I hated taking my meds and would often have a series of attacks or get so depressed that even the meds wouldn’t work. So I would go to rehab, because contrary to popular belief, it isn’t just a cop-out for actors—it’s a place to get help. And for me, it’s the only place where I could truly escape from the media for a while. I didn’t share it because the attacks are painful, they are embarrassing—and because it’s my business. You all know everything about me. Being an actor should not take away my right to privacy.”
I could see it in her eyes, the realization that this interview was not going to go at all how she imagined. And it was for one simple reason: she, like everyone else, did not truly know me. They just thought they did.
Chapter Nine
Amelia