Page 65 of The Actor: Harrison

And the part of my heart that is listening to this voice knows it’s right.

The solution to our problem comes five days after our fight. Or at least, we hope this is a solution. Harrison suggested a compromise on our views about our private life being public. We’re not selling our story to some tabloid but we are going to take advantage about the buzz surrounding our relationship and book interviews to talk about our movie.

“Are you nervous?” he asks as we drive up the Hollywood hills.

“A bit. I’m not used to the cameras. Or at least, not staying in front of them.” I let out a deep breath.

He briefly smiles at me before putting his eyes on the road in front of us.

“It’s a podcast. Nothing major like a talk show. You’ll be comfortable, trust me,” he tries to reassure me.

Rationally, I know I have nothing to worry about, but my stomach seems to not get the memo. I don’t have a good track record when it comes to selling my work. I don’t know how other people can be so confident when talking about what they do. I know my work is good, but every time someone asks me to talk about it, I downplay everything because I feel like I’m rambling about it.

“I know it’s a podcast, but he’s an influencer with millions of followers. I don’t think talk shows have as much reach as he has,” I point out.

He chuckles. “Yes, he has a large following, but he also does his interviews in his home office. That should make you less intimidated by the cameras and microphones.”

“A home office in an uber-mansion in Hollywood,” I laugh, my nervousness going down a notch.

We stay silent for a long moment while he drives slowly up the hill. There’s something soothing about how Harrison drives.

“Why don’t you have a driver?” I ask out of the blue.

“What?” He looks at me with a confused smile.

“You’re a billionaire, why don’t you have someone driving you around?” I’ve always wondered this about him. He really is down to earth for a billionaire. Yes, he has a lot of things that scream money, but he never flaunts them.

“A lot of reasons.” He stares ahead thinking about it. “I love cars, and I really like to drive them. I’m extremely protective with my cars, and I don’t want anyone to drive them. And I have the weirdest schedule in the world. I don’t want to keep a person on standby on those late nights when I finish shooting some scene.”

“That make sense.”

“Why do you ask?” He sounds curious.

“Because you don’t act like some rich douche. You have literally more money than everyone I know put together, but you live like a normal person.”

He shrugs. “My parents always lived up to the standards of rich people. Always impeccable when in public and at home. Never a hair out of place. I was honestly tired of being perfect all the time growing up and I just decided to value being comfortable more than appearances when I moved away from my parents.”

He doesn’t realize it, but some of this perfection is ingrained in his DNA. He is more casual, he doesn’t have someone doing everything for him, but he’s never messy. His house is tidy not because there’s someone picking up after him, he cleans the countertop when he spills coffee and puts his dirty clothes in the hamper instead of on the bedroom floor.

He grew up being respectful of his things and the people around him and I think this makes him richer than anyone else in the world, even those with more money than him. There aren’t many, but there are a few.

We arrive at the ultra-modern house and park in the back next to a shiny green sportscar. I take a look in front of me and my breath catches in my throat when I see the downtown skyline through the massive window next to the front door that gives me a view of the ultra-modern living room.

“Is that an infinity pool over there?” I mutter to Harrison and he chuckles.

“He has quite a few toys around this house.”

“Why am I always the poor one when we talk about this industry?” I mumble.

“That is going to change soon, trust me.” He winks at me while the door flies open and a smiley nerdy guy with thick-rimmed glasses greets us.

“Welcome to my home!” he chirps with a high-pitched voice I recognize from his YouTube videos.

“Thank you for having us,” I say shaking his hand.

“It’s an honor,” he says, inviting us in and guiding us down concrete stairs just inside the front door. “I know Harrison’s movies, of course, but when he talked about you with such enthusiasm, I had to watch your movies and, let me just say, you are quite the hidden gem!”

I feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I glance back at Harrison walking behind me and I find him grinning.

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