Day 1.

It starts like any other project I take on. They go through my management team, I go through casting then get a call if I am the right fit. I am not always picked. Only for the dark roles. What I am good at. If they want tall dark and scary that is me.

I walk to my trailer, rather dismayed that we are shooting in such a small town. I like the city life. I like the chaos. Hell, I need the chaos. I can't function without it I thrive on anything thrilling. This fucking town doesn't even have a bar. There is a convent store and a Dollar Store. Not even a fucking Cafe.

One good thing though it is quiet and I can think. It is easy to work on my lines. No one bothers me. I can walk to the fucking store and no one barges me for an autograph. It is nice. Something that has never happened to me in my entire life. Hell, my father is famous. I was ambushed as a child often so they could get to my father. It was rather annoying. It got worse when people realized I look identical to him.

Hell for a long time, I had my mother's maiden name. Just to take off some of the attention. it didn't work so I finally started to profit off my father's name when I turned thirty. A man has got to eat.

I sit to practice my lines for the night on the small table by the door of my trailer. That is when I see her. The flowing shoulder-length blond hair as she runs through her yard with her kids. She isn't my normal type but something about her fascinates me. Like I need to know more. I need her. She has to be around 5'4. Curvy yet in good shape. Her wide hips proof she carried three children. She has a tear-drop-shaped face, blue eyes, and long eyelashes, and looks amazing with no makeup. Not something that happens often in my world.

I watch her every move. Her smile as she chases her three children who look to be around ages eight to fifteen. They all look so at peace and happy. Something I wish I had as a child. Not the chaos I was born into. I hope those boys know how lucky they are to have a mother that cares.

My heart sinks as a police car pulls into the driveway. An officer steps out and all three kids yell "Dad" and run up to him. He is tall, kinda overweight, and balding. lucky fucking bastard. I silently hope that they are divorced. So I have some sort of a chance. He walks over and smiles at her. He kisses her deeply then they all go inside. "So much for that fucking dream."

I try to finish my studying but I keep focusing on the home next door. The white farm-style home is the prettiest in this shit hole of a town. Giant floor-to-ceiling windows line the front allowing me a view inside. The man has kicked off his boots and is watching TV.

One of the kids helps him take off his socks. The lazy fucker. I can see her in her kitchen cooking. For once grateful for the open concept. I watch as he pays more attention to the phone than his kids trying to get his attention. The oldest peaks and the look on his face tells me all I need to know. The man is probably cheating.

The kid looks back at his mom. She seems happy as can be. It looks like she is singing while she cooks. The boy walks into the kitchen and she grabs his hand and they dance. Soon whatever was bothering the teen seems to not matter as he laughs and smiles with his mother. The husband seems to ignore everything but his fucking phone.

How can one not know the beauty that he has?

How can you be so fucking selfish? That woman is a total package. Not even my type. I don't normally like blondes, or short women for that matter. I like them around my height.

This isn't good. Now I have an obsession.