Page 1 of Solid Ground

ONE

DECLAN

Las Vegas.

Sin City.

The city that never sleeps.

Always my favourite place to lose myself after finishing a film.

And honestly? The crappy, destined-to-go-straight-to-DVD film I just made will probably be my last.

My career is over.

It’s a sobering thought. And I’ll get sober just as soon as I have one last weekend of debauchery.

For about the millionth time, my mobile rings and I silence the call. My agent, Nikki, has been hounding me since my film wrapped. No doubt she’s got other shitty offers on the table.

For almost thirty years I’ve ridden the roller coaster that is Hollywood. I’ve lived the highs, both figurative and literal, and now I’ve sunk into this bottomless pit ofdespair.

I’m not making another never-will-be-seen movie ever again.

Maybe I’m not the type to retire to the country and live a quiet life, but something has to be better than my dying career. I need a break—some alone time to come to grips with who I am. My life has been a whirlwind since my teens.

Now I’m in my mid-forties and I want to take some time to breathe.

I’ve been working since I was a teenager—my “big break” came in the form of a soap opera, and while I’ve been blessed to be a jobbing actor since, it hasn’t all been smooth sailing.

It’s my own fault for driving my career into the ground. The alcohol and the partying pushed people too far. There are directors and other actors who refuse to work with me because of mistakes I’ve made along the way.

I’m getting off this ride before I truly hit rock bottom.

I’m in the hotel lobby when my mobile rings again, and I groan before hitting accept.

I might as well get this over with.

“Nikki.”

“I’ve got an offer?—”

“Answer’s no.”

She sighs. “But this could be the step back to?—“

“That’s what you said last time. And the time before.” I growl. “I’m done. It’s over. I’m going to live it up this weekend and then go home to LA to hide behind the giant metal fences I’ve surrounded my house with.”

“And do what? You’ll climb the walls with nothing to do.”

I let out a sigh. “No idea yet. Become a farmer? Grow corn? I don’t know, but something has to be better than this.”

She huffs. “Fine. Take a break. But you know that there’s more for you out there. We just need to get you back on track.”

“I’m not sure I want to ‘get back on track’.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“I am. I’ve had it with this life.”

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