The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue (Guide #1)(62)
The studio audience booed and hissed. The trophy wife fanned invisible tears forming in her eyes.
“I just don’t understand why he’s doing all this,” she said. “As a parent, it leads to some very uncomfortable conversations when your children see their heroes acting so poorly. The world has been watching Cash Carter since he was just twelve years old—this is not the Dr. Bumfuzzle we all know and love.”
“But isn’t that the real problem?” the corporate tycoon asked. “I’ve never seen the show but even I recognize him as that character. And when you’re that recognizable from something, it can damage an actor’s longevity. I’m going to be frank—the kid’s probably never going to work again after Wiz Kids is over. I bet he’s starting to realize that and that’s what’s at the core of this bad behavior. It’s got to be a tough pill to swallow knowing you’ll spend the rest of your career at conventions, especially when his lesser-known costars are booking jobs like Moth-Man.”
The audience agreed with her analysis and applauded.
“Well, we want to hear what our viewers think,” the retired athlete said directly into the camera. “Is Cash Carter the next Bieber, Britney, or Bynes? Is this a breakdown, a meltdown, or just a letdown? How many strikes does he have left before he should be taken out of the game? Go to thepanel.com to share your thoughts and enter to win a prize vacation to Puerto Rico, courtesy of American Airlines. We’ll be right back after this.”
The Panel went to a commercial break, ending the hypnotic trance the program had placed over Topher, Joey, Sam, and Mo. As much as it infuriated them to watch, they couldn’t take their eyes off it. They all turned to Cash with the deepest sympathy on their faces, but once again they were more affected than the actor himself. Cash just let out a heavy sigh and rubbed his eyes, as if he had been assigned homework instead of criticized on national television.
“I’ve been avoiding reality for long enough,” he said. “You guys go to dinner without me. I have to go back to the hotel and make some calls before this thing gets any bigger.”
Cash headed out of the gift shop but Topher was compelled to ask him something before he left.
“Hey, Cash?” he said. “It’s not true, is it? Are you really missing work to be on this trip with us?”
The actor paused for a moment before responding, which wasn’t reassuring.
“Of course not,” he said. “It’s all a bunch of bullshit to keep the story going. I’ll see you guys tomorrow morning.”
Cash exited through the gift shop and walked across Old Town, Amarillo, to the Teepee Inn at the end of the street. The others searched the area for a Tex-Mex restaurant and found one nearby called the Armadillo Kitchen. They ordered a mountain of guacamole and entrees drenched in cheese, but they barely spoke to one another during the meal. They were on their phones checking the Wiz Kids blogs and fan forums. Unfortunately, the latest gossip about Cash was all the rage in the Wizzer universe, too.
“I’m amazed this story is still going,” Sam said. “It’s one thing to have all the Wizzers focused on Cash—but the whole world is talking about how he didn’t show up for work today! Is there really nothing else going on?”
“And people are actually believing this crap,” Mo said. “A tabloid in the UK called The Beast said Cash missed work because he’s in hiding from a Russian drug lord he owes money to—and now a Wizzer in Florida has started a GoFundMe page to help him pay it off!”
Joey shrugged. “We’ve fallen for some pretty stupid things written about Cash before. Remember that rumor about him leaving Wiz Kids to join NASA’s mission to Mars? We obsessed over that and it wasn’t even from a reliable source. Who knows what we’d believe right now if we weren’t actually with the dude.”
Topher clicked off his phone and sat back in his chair. A strong suspicion had been eating at him for a while, but until now there’d been no real reason to voice it to the group.
“Are we sure Cash is being honest with us?” he asked.
“Yeah, to a fault,” Mo said.
Sam and Joey nodded in agreement, but they weren’t getting Topher’s point.
“I know we want to defend and protect Cash because we’ve had a lot of fun with him, but do we have any proof that the media isn’t right about him?” he asked. “What if he was on drugs that night at the concert? What if those pills he’s always taking aren’t for his sinuses? What if joining our road trip is just part of this big breakdown he’s having? Maybe he’s always stretching the truth to cover up the truth?”
From the concerned looks on his friends’ faces, Topher could tell it had crossed their minds, too, but just like him, no one wanted to doubt the actor just yet.
“Topher, you read too many John Grisham books,” Joey said. “I think Cash was getting some bad press in Los Angeles and wanted to clear his head, so he took the first opportunity he got to get away. Unfortunately, the whole thing has totally backfired on him. Sure, he drinks like a fish, probably smokes like a chimney, and he isn’t careful about mixing them both with medication, but I think we’d know it if he was mentally unbalanced or an addict of some kind.”
“I agree,” Mo said. “With all the other shit that comes out of his mouth, I doubt he’d be able to keep some deep dark secret from us. On the contrary, I bet he’d love bringing it up just to see the terror in our eyes—he seems to get off on that.”