Karyn found him around in the restroom of a diner down the street from the restaurant Chris had taken him to. He looked a mess. Mascara streaking down his face, lipstick smudged, hair dishevelled. It was a good thing Jon had had the sense to call Karyn; the last thing she wanted was for him to be seen in public in this condition.
The call had been more babbling and tears than talking, really. She'd managed to get an address from her client, but other than that, not much was clear. Obviously the date hadn't gone the way she'd hoped, nor the way Jon had wanted it to. She'd gotten word from some of the photographers she'd tipped off that there were three or four usable shots of the two entering the restaurant, so it had at least started off well. Maybe there was still a way to make some lemonade out of these lemons.
Locking the door behind her, allowing for her to be alone with Jon in the restroom, she leaned against the sink and took in her employer. Sitting on closed toilet seat, his face was in his hands. His black clutch was sitting on the floor a couple of feet away from him, and his iPhone was next to it, discarded as soon as he'd hung up on her.
At least she hoped it had been immediately discarded. Who knows what kind of damage control she'd have to do if he had gone on social media, or started angrily texting...
Don't get ahead of yourself, she thought, forcing calmness.
"Jon, honey," she said in her most soothing voice, "what happened?"
Jon looked up at her, again showing his spoiled make-up, and a look of dismay. Had she pushed him too hard for success? Was she just using her friend to get ahead in Hollywood?
No, Karyn knew the business. This was a good move, and in the long run he'd thank her.
"I don't even know what's happening anymore. My life isn't my own, and everything is out of control!"
He dropped his face into his hands again and cried.
Karyn crossed the floor and knelt in front of him, taking his hands in hers and looking him in the eye.
"What did that pig do to you?"
"He's not a pig," Jon said, sniffing hard, "He was really nice. I... I don't know, maybe I had too much wine, or maybe it was the music, or whatever... We ate, and laughed. I tried to talk about stuff I liked, like music, or video games, but he was so charming. He asked me about me. Then he asked me to dance, and..."
Tears in his eyes created fresh streaks of mascara.
"It was a slow dance, and he held me close. I shouldn't have agreed, but I thought maybe you'd have a photographer in the room. He was a really good dancer, and my body knew just what to do. We danced together... then he leaned down... and..."
"What happened, Jon?"
"He kissed me!" Jon bellowed, "On the mouth! He was so strong, his arms behind me, his lips on mine, his tongue..." Jon sobbed once, "It happened so fast. That's not who I am! I... I don't even know who I am anymore!"
"Oh, sweety," Karyn said, disappointed. She grabbed his clutch to find something to clean him up, some fresh make-up for his face, "When are you ever going to learn? Life is handing you amazing opportunities here, and you're going to miss them if you don't just go with the flow."
She reached into the bag and felt around for his make-up, fingers touching multiple hard items.
"I just wish," she said, not noticing the look of alarm on Jon's face, "that you'd make some right choices for your career for a change, rather than what you feel."
Out of the corner of her eye, Karyn noticed a small flash of light. She turned around. Was there a photographer in the restroom? You never can be too careful, those assholes were sneaky as shit. A quick vision confirmation, though, told her that she and Jon were alone.
Jon's face seemed truly conflicted when she looked back. He seemed to be struggling very hard with something.
"Okay, Karyn," Jon said, forcing the words out, "You win. Tomorrow I'll call Doctor Rabner. I'll go for the implants."
