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Normally I was dressed in the trendiest of clothes, with the most expensive brand names covering me from head to toe. Calvin Klein, Ralph Lauren, Hugo Boss, Giorgio Armani. You name it, I wore it. I always had the most expensive shoes and trainers on my feet. I quickly found out that expensive doesn’t always mean comfortable. I’ll give you two guesses who picked out my clothing. At least she didn’t dress me up like a doll every morning. I was allowed to choose what I wore each day from the immense amount of clothing that I owned.
Generally I gravitated towards ripped denim jeans in just about every shade of blue, grey and black you could find, plain t-shirts and as I got older, leather jackets. I loved a good leather jacket. My mother wasn’t such a big fan. Thought they gave me the wrong kind of look. This coming from the woman who would later go in and instruct me to get a tattoo. A small one mind you. A little star behind my ear.
She preferred me to wear smart looking jackets, button up shirts in less muted colours then I preferred to wear and casual suits. Obviously wearing the same style of clothes, it was pretty easy to pick me out of a crowd as many peopled proved they could do. As you can probably tell, I didn’t want people to do this. I wanted to be a little more discreet. The best thing I could come up with that didn’t get me shouted at was sneaking clothing out of the house to put on when I was away from my mother’s prying eyes that was better for blending in.
I started wearing a baggy, oversized hoodie whenever I went outside. A really thin one mind you. I live in Los Angeles for crying out loud. Charlie gave me the idea. Plus, the good thing about living in a place where the sun was almost always shining was that I could wear sunglasses pretty much all the time and no one would judge me for it. I knew it wasn’t the best of disguises but it was all I could do. It didn’t however work on the days where it felt like it was too hot to be wearing anything, let alone a big hoodie.
I think I would have been around 14 or 15. The thing I do remember very clearly is that there had been a big storm the night before. I remember this because Charlie’s father, Don was busy cleaning up our garden. The wind had been so strong a few trees had been uprooted and there was dirt and flowers scattered everywhere. It was a huge mess. So, my father had kindly offered to pick Charlie up from school before getting me from the house I had been filming at all week. Things started going wrong the minute I walked out.
I’d taken to climbing over the back fence to get out every day. It was certainly much easier than trying to make my way through the sea of paparazzi that were constantly camped out front. I was surprised that they didn’t actually have tents and camping chairs set up with the amount of time they spent out there. Did they ever actually go home?
I know it wasn’t the best way to get off the property and a photo of me straddling the wooden fence would most likely end up alongside some fake news article with the title “Famous Star Caught Breaking and Entering” but I didn’t care. Well, I probably would have cared if my mother found out and screamed at me. I swear, that woman could have cracked glass with her shrieks if she tried hard enough.
Climbing over that ridiculously tall and slightly wobbly fence pretty much every day was what worked best for me at the time, even if it meant getting a splinter every now and then. And boy did those hurt like hell. It always amazes me that the tiniest of cuts and injuries are the ones that hurt the most. Like paper cuts. A book lovers’ worst nightmare.
Anyway, I could handle the splinters. It caused considerably less stress than what the paparazzi and reporters did. The last thing you wanted after a long day of working in front of cameras, with people constantly talking to you and getting on your nerves and the microphones forever attached to your person and recording you continuously throughout the day even when you tried to get a minute’s peace in the bathroom, was to walk out the door and be faced with the horde as I referred to them and many, many more cameras and those bloody blinding flashes. So, I put up with the splinters and the ungodly amount of trash that always seemed to be littered everywhere around that shady alley I had to walk through to get to where my father picked me up.
On this particular day that will forever remain etched in my mind until the day I die I had been put through the torture of filming one of the worst kind of scenes imaginable. The dreaded kissing scene. This specific time was with a girl who had to be at least 3 years older than me. She wasn’t meant to be but it was very common for people to lie about their age which did cause some inappropriate incidents. I had been stressing over this scene for weeks. I had practiced my lines every day on the lead up to it so that I could get it over with as quickly as possible. I was professional. I took it seriously. Her on the other hand. She was another story completely.
All she did was giggle and blush and mess up her lines. Her one line that had about 7 words in it. Honestly it was horrendous. It should have only taken at most a couple of takes but instead she wasted an entire day. I couldn’t want to get out of there and just lie down in a darkened room. Alone. I may have allowed Charlie or my father to stay with me but even they would have had to been so quiet I would forget they were in the room.
The minute I was told I could go home, I did. I rushed out the back door before anyone could even talk to me. I didn’t even bother to grab all my shit. I was going to be back the next day anyway for more suffering and misery. The bag just slowed me down, always getting caught on the posts. I thought it was easier without it. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Normally I checked to make sure no one was around but I was so fricking exhausted, I wasn’t thinking straight. Not that I ever really do that. But of course, the onetime I don’t check there’s someone there. I mean who hangs around in a filthy, stinking alley anyway? And naturally he waited until I was perched dangerously on the top of the fence, clinging on for dear life before making his presence known.
He gasped in shock.
I froze like a deer in headlights.
All my plans of what I would do in that situation disappeared. It was like someone opened a gate in my mind and they all just raced out as fast as they could. Then my reflexes kicked in and I began hurriedly scrambling down that fence. To this day I still don’t know why I started climbing down towards the alley and the man instead of going back into the grounds of the house. It probably would have prevented what came next. I think I was just so desperate to get home I thought I could make it. Oh how wrong I was.
Just as I was slowly and carefully stepping down to a lower part of the fence that had a history of being particularly tricky, the camera went off beside me with a blinding flash. My eyes instinctively closed to block out the bright light causing my foot to miss the board completely. I tried to keep a hold of the fence as I felt myself slipping but to no avail. The wooden slats dug into my hands and scraped the skin of my palms. I heard the paparazzi gasp loudly as I fell to the ground with a loud thump landing awkwardly on my wrist. I let out a loud scream as the pain shot through my arm.
‘He’s over here!’
I remember hearing shouting and quickly sitting up straight, clutching my wrist to my chest, thinking it was someone come to help me. You’d think I would know better by now and not think so positively. The next thing I knew there were swarms of people crowding around me and thrusting their cameras in my face as I lay there on the ground in agony. They were all clambering and elbowing each other to try and get the best photo of me as they could. Not that I would have made a pretty picture at that moment in time, sitting there in a pile of mud and rubbish, a look of fear and pain on my face.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a car pulling up at the end of the alley that slightly resembled my father’s car. I wasn’t even sure if it was definitely him. I couldn’t see through the horde. I just knew I had to get out of there. I quickly scrambled to my feet, still holding my aching wrist. I could feel the tears beginning to well in my eyes as I pushed and shoved my way through the crowd, twisting my body as I went in an attempt to protect myself from further harm. My heart was beating so loudly in my ears as I stumbled my way through the sea of people. I had never been more scared in my life.
When someone grabbed my arm, I was startled.
When they began to pull me along through the crowd, I was terrified.
And when their arms wrapped around my waist and lifted me off the ground, that’s when I lost it.
I started kicking out at people, not caring who I hurt. They hurt me first. I was screaming at the top of my lungs for them to let me go and to leave me alone.
‘Austin! Austin, calm down!’ A voice shouted in my ear.
‘No, no!’ I shrieked. ‘Let go of me!’ Before I knew what I was doing, I stamped my foot down as hard as I could down on theirs and dug my elbow into their side.
They went out with a yelp of pain as their grip on me loosened. I tried to run away from them but they held tight onto my hoodie.
‘Austin, stop! It’s me.’ My body relaxed as I recognised the voice of the person who was holding me. ‘You’re alright. I’ve got you now.’ I leaned into him as he practically carried me to the car. He threw open the door and stuffed me inside before turning to face the crowd. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?!’
‘Just give us a few minutes to ask Austin some questions.’ One of the paparazzi piped up.
‘Why was he climbing over the fence?’
‘When is his new film coming out?’
‘Is Austin dating anyone?’
The crowd surged forward like one big mass, holding out their tiny, little microphones and their big, bulky cameras. My father instinctively moved to block the car door so they couldn’t see in to me and Charlie.
‘He is a child!’ My father shouted. ‘He is injured and scared and instead of helping him you scared him more and harassed him by taking pictures. What is wrong with all of you?! Why didn’t none of you help him? Do you have any morals?’ I peeked out the car window to see a large group of grown adults looked ashamed and may I say even a little scared. My guess, they were getting the look. The look that all parents seem to have mastered. The look that can make anyone tremble in their boots.
‘If I see any of these photos online, I will personally come after each and everyone of you.’ He scanned the crowd. I could see how tightly his fists were clenched from inside the car. ‘Leave my son alone.’
I jumped as he got into the car and slammed the door shut behind him. He placed both hands on the wheel and took in a few deep breaths before turning to look at us, plastering a big fake smile on his face.
‘Lets get out of here.’
‘And never come back.’ I mumbled as I gripped Charlie’s hand tighter.
The minute my father had opened the car door and bundled me inside, I had spotted Charlie sat on the floor of the car, trying to hide from view of the crowd. As soon as the door was shut, I had felt my heart racing and my breathing quickened. My body started trembling as the sweat drenched my forehead. My mouth was dry, my hands were tingly. I felt like I was dying. Charlie had swiftly moved to sit beside me, taking my hand in his own.
‘Just breathe with me Austin.’ He pulled my head down to rest on his shoulder. ‘In and out. Just in and out.’
‘I-I can’t.’ The tears streamed down my cheeks.
‘Yes, you can, Because you’re strong.’ He moved his hand up to rest on my chest, right above my heart. ‘You’re safe.’
Those two words were all I needed to hear in that moment. I was safe. They couldn’t get me whilst I was sat in that car, leaning against Charlie. I wanted to stop time in that moment. Just stay sitting with Charlie, feeling safe. But I couldn’t. Once my father got back into the car, I knew things weren’t quite over.
‘Is it really sore?’ Charlie gently straightened out my wrist.
‘It’s bloody agony.’ I winced. ‘Mothers going to kill me if it’s broken, won’t she?’
‘No, she won’t Austin.’ My father twisted round in his seat and gently rested his hand on my knee. ‘I think it’s best that I take you to the Emergency Room, get your wrist checked out, I’ll call your mother from there.’
‘Could I come with you?’
I promptly lifted my head up to look at Charlie. He hated hospitals. All the blood and people rushing about. It freaked him out. It freaked me out honestly.
‘You can easily come if you want to. Saves you having to sit at home alone.’ My father smiled at him. ‘Austin?’
‘Are you sure? I don’t know how long we’ll be there. Wouldn’t you rather go home?’ I questioned. ‘I’d understand.’
‘I want to be there for you.’ Charlie gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. ‘We’ll cope better together.’
Normally I would have refused. Charlie would be uncomfortable which would make me upset. He would be scared. Plus, there was a chance that we could be seen together. It was too risky. But I’d had a bad day. I needed my best friend. I needed my Charlie. I leaned into his chest and let him wrap his arms around me. He was very careful not to touch my wrist and cause me anymore unnecessary pain. I didn’t want him to let me go. We sat like that for the entire ride to the hospital.
My father luckily was smart enough to know to call ahead so that I would get a private room. We didn’t want any more people swarming around me. That was the last thing I needed. Having to deal with any people at all was too much for me. Especially now when I had Charlie with me.
Walking in the side door of the hospital, I made sure to keep my hood up and my head down. I walked alone, following closely behind the nurse, Charlie having listened to me when I told him to walk a short distance away. The minute we were in the room though he was right back to sitting beside me, holding tightly onto my good hand. He wouldn’t listen to my protests when I told him to sit at the opposite side of the room with my father. He insisted on supporting me, something he continues to do to this day.
If Charlie was my support, my father was definitely my protector. He always made sure that I felt safe. Especially that day. Whenever anyone walked in the room with a phone in their hand or peeking out their pocket, he would force them to show him that they weren’t recording me. I did have to tell him to sit down numerous times. I am like 90% sure he scared a few nurses by jumping up so suddenly from behind the door, shouting at them to show him their phones. At least to my knowledge though it worked.
It turns out I had fractured my wrist. To be more precise I had a distal radius fracture which meant I had to wear a splint for 6 weeks. As you can guess my mother was not happy about that. She kept trying to convince me to take it off earlier than when the doctor had told me to. She “didn’t like how it looked”. Plus it meant that I couldn’t film. Luckily my father stood up to her and told her to stop being so stupid and selfish. I needed time to rest and heal. And boy did I take advantage of that time. I watched a crap ton of films. Like nearly every film that Netflix had to offer. And what was even better was that Charlie was there with me. Yes, he was only allowed to stay with me all the time because he was supposed to be doing everything for me so I didn’t even have to lift a finger. (Mother’s orders) I was perfectly capable of doing stuff for myself.
What I wasn’t capable of doing was protecting myself from the paparazzi. But at least I had my father. No photos from that day were ever published online. I must admit I was a little curious to what he would have done if they ever had been published. I mean he wasn’t the violent type. He was more… the silent, secretive type. I never fully understood the number of secrets that man had. I only ever discovered a few, only one of which he told me.
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