I think about William for a day or two but put him out of my mind quickly.

I asked Star about it, and he said William is an old pervert, but he could also be a producer. He also told me that I should make him believe I want him for a role, but I don't want to sleep with him.

I don't know him like that.

And I have Anne and Nick.

They're visiting for a week, and I do not know what to tell Kyle before they arrive. He knows they're coming and wants to meet them, but how does someone introduce a boyfriend and a girlfriend? What if he thinks I want him and kicks me out? What if he thinks we're weird? I like being his friend, and I love the free rent, but can I really be friends with someone if I can't tell them about my life?

After my morning jog, I call Anne and she tells me everything will be fine, and that she has an idea.

"Cashmere said she always wanted to go to Las Estrellas, and it could help her get another costuming apprenticeship. She can come too so he won't think anything about it if there's one extra person."

"That's a good idea. She seemed nice the first time I met her at the bar, too. I'll let Kyle know."

After my phone call, I take a shower, and while going through my dresser, I find the old pervert William's card.

I made some money from writing a song, but I don't want to be the faceless name on a credit screen that no one pays attention to at the end of a movie or the back of an album. I never thought I'd had a chance, and a part of me came to L.E. to spite Anne, but I don't want that no more.

I call his personal number, and he picks up.

"Yes, this is Bill."

"I'm sorry I thought this was William. This must be an outdated number."

He laughs on the phone and assures me it's him.

"I go by Bill Byrns. It sounds a lot better than William Byrns or Willy Byrns."

"Willy Byrns sounds like the name of a cartoon character," I laugh.

"I thought the same damn thing! A name is everything around here!"

I forget he is an old pervert while we talk on the phone about who is who in town, and he name drops, humbly of course, all these people I have seen only in movies or TV.

"I'd like it if you called me William," he said. "Only you and no one else."

I am still standing in my towel in my room and feel as if he knows, even though that is impossible. He asks me to come over to his place and I don't think I should, because this is no longer the territory of stupid flirting.

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"I can't, I have plans this week. Friends from back home are visiting," I say.

Thankfully it is not a lie, but he is not backing down.

"What are you doing next week?"

"I don't know," I stupidly admit.

"Message me when you know," he says. "I want to see you."

"You're so direct," I say. "Why?"

I laugh nervously and I don't know why I asked him, why I am still talking to him, why I like all this attention.

"The older you get the fewer games you want to play. The chase is fun, but the end is always the sweetest. Why not get to the best part first?"

I tell him that I'll let him know when I'm free, and hang up because I am bricking up and this is not a good way to live. I yelled at Nick, and here I am playing with the idea of cheating. I think it's okay because I haven't done anything yet, but the issue here is the yet.

"Stop this," I tell myself.

I get dressed and go downstairs because I'm going to be late for church.

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Momma would kill me if she knew I went to a non-denominational church. She says they're worse than Catholics because they can't choose a side. I think she needs to stop watching too much TBS. I like the non-denominational church that I go to. I can come in jeans and a nice shirt and not feel bad. I can meet new people and be myself because they say all are welcome.

It is nothing like Pastor Grant's church in Edelweiss. That church was older than sin itself, and this one was made three years ago from all the money the parishioners saved up over a decade. They used to use a gym once a week, and now they proudly talk about how far they've come. It made me want to stay the first time I came, because I thought, why not be a part of something good?

The inside is large, and the main part of the church has new pews, with plenty of hymnal books to spare. There are so many people here that there are ushers and an overflow room. There is no cornbread to eat after the service is over, but there is a state-of-the-art kitchen which is good enough for me.

I ask for forgiveness before I go on stage for the morning praise service because I know the truth of why I like performing. It's sinful to have this much pride, but who doesn't want to keep the rush? I love the people looking at the stage, the jealous looks of other people who could not pass the auditions to join the church choir, and the applause at the end. It is not fame but a piece of heaven on stage that I crave and it is delivered to me every Sunday at 8 AM.

When the morning praise set is over, I take my usual seat at the side with the other performers and listen to the sermon. From the angle of the stage, I can see a couple, two men, and I wonder how they do it. Aren't they afraid? But I've seen them here every week.

No one knows about me here and I have not made any friends yet, despite loving everything about it. I just can't shake this feeling that I am on the outside looking in, especially from up on the stage.

When church is over I decide to hurry back home because I am somehow hiding myself from the world. I call an Uber and wait on the sidewalk when a man approaches. It's an older man, but he's wearing a white suit, with a white hat, and he reminds me of the Colonel with the way he's dressed.

I assume he is another old pervert, here to ask me if I want to see his bedroom, but he is not.

"You there," the man says loudly. "I know what you are."

Oh God.

It's happening.

They know.

"You're a singer! The pastor told me all about you," the old man said.

"Oh, yeah, 'course I am," I say.

"I'm George Glenn. I want you to come audition at our studio," he says.

"What? Me?"

"I ain't talkin' to no one else," he laughs. "Where you from, son?"

"Edelweiss."

"Ain't never heard of it. I'm from a place ain't no one heard of neither! Let's help each other out!"

George is a man who does not speak normally. He's always shouting and he has enough energy for four people. He shakes my hand hard enough to move my entire body and gives me his card. He's talking my ear off until the Uber comes and I can't get inside it fast enough. After relaxing in the wonderful AC, it sets in that I have done it.

I'm about to make my lucky break.