A San Francisco boy.
Famous actor and model.
Renowned playboy.
Damaged lover.
And a heartless robot.

He needs to fix his reputation.  I need money for my sister's treatment.

Everything about us is fake ... but sometimes the line between fake and real can get blurred.

Enrique Blackburn turned himself into a robot.  Untouchable.  Emotionless.  The quintessential bachelor of the silver screen.

He doesn't do love.  He can never say the words.  Especially not to me, his contracted phony girlfriend.  

But despite the consequences I let him take my breath and steal the things I know.  Like fire on fire, he burns himself into my heart.  And that's the last place I want him to be.    

We made an arrangement.  We agreed to a contract.  No sex.  No love.  No relationship.

Can I unfold him?  Can I make this real?  Can I make him find his heart?

But most importantly - can I make him say the words?

The Actor's Contract

Place = San Francisco (Enrique’s home)(Inferno) 


Covering her with a blanket, I bend down and tenderly sweep some of those red curls away from her face, noticing the tear marks on her cheeks. Why was she crying? Is it because of me? My heart cringes … but still, she’s extraordinarily beautiful … naturally … not like all those superficial bitches that surround me all the time. Nope, she’s real … original … fresh … unique … unforgettable … 


Ug, Blackburn … what the hell are you doing? I scold myself. Using a lot of adjectives to describe a girl is never a good thing. But if I’m being completely honest with myself … I already know the answer, but I just can’t acknowledge it … not yet. Those words - I can’t say it; can’t even think it. So how can I even begin to explain to her how fucked-up I really am … 


A role for a role