Chapters 1 - 13 are currently being rewritten.

*Welcome to new readers. Be sure to leave me a review with your feedback :)

*Also, I want to make it clear that this is indeed a Rose and Dimitri story. Hope you enjoy.

Chapter 1 (Rewritten Aug 2014)

Dimitri's POV

A sigh of frustration escaped from my mouth. Fifteen hours away from my next audition and already my nerves were beginning to wrack through me. It was late and I was tired after my day of reading scripts and rehearsing lines. All I wanted to do was sleep.

"Dimitri…" Tasha's seductive voice floated from the bedroom and I groaned inwardly. "Dimitri, are you coming to bed?" I glanced up at my wearied reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Taking – yet another – deep breath, I stood upright and made my way into the bedroom, where Tasha lay on my bed. I had a feeling I knew what she wanted from me right now, but being nervous and anxious really was a mood killer.

I had a major audition tomorrow – my most important one in quite a while. It had been tough, but my agent had just managed to snag it for me. To say I was a little nervous was an understatement. The acting business was a constant struggle; the number of aspiring actors and actresses out there was unbelievable, and it made competing for parts seem like a warzone. In my many weak moments, I often contemplated just giving it all up and going back home to my family…but then that would mean I had given up. And I was anything but a quitter.

After switching off the main light, I made my way over to my bed, where I pulled back the covers and settled in for the night. I had long since learned that sleep was the best remedy for my nerves. My head hit the pillow and almost immediately, the apprehensive fluttering in my stomach began to lessen. Closing my eyes, I hoped it would diminish completely so that I could get a good night's rest.

Tasha – my 'girlfriend,' so to speak – seemingly had other ideas.

I winced when I felt her nails caress my abdomen; if I hadn't been wearing a t-shirt, I was certain I would be left with scratch marks in the morning.

"Tasha," I sighed as she pushed her way into my lap. "Can we not tonight?" Her lips had found their way to my neck but had frozen when I'd spoken.

"What?" She asked disbelievingly, leaning back to look me in the eye. She looked as though she thought she might have heard me wrong.

"I'm sorry, I'm not really in the mood," I went on quickly, trying not to wince as her sharp nails made indents in my shoulders. "I'm nervous about the audition tomorrow and could really do with some sleep…" The more I talked, the more I wished I could magically disappear. Tasha looked as though as might hit me; it was quite terrifying to be honest.

"Let me get this straight," She said, sitting back further and flipping her hair back. It was only then that I noticed she was wearing some new, expensive-looking lingerie…God, I was really worked up about this audition if I was missing details like that. "You ask me over…and you don't want to have sex?" Her tone made it seem like what she had said was the craziest thing she had ever heard. The calm façade she held might have been relieving…if I didn't detect the angry gleam in her eyes.

"Well…yeah," I replied simply, bracing myself for an explosion.

"What the fuck, Dimitri?"

"Is it really so awful that I just want to spend some time with my girlfriend. All we ever do is have sex – why can't we just talk for once? I don't even remember the last time we had a serious conversation that didn't involve feeling each other up!"

"It's not my fault that all you want to talk about is your family or those stupid auditions you go to, Dimitri!" She yelled. I seemed to have awoken the beast. I suddenly remembered that the reason Tasha and I didn't have serious conversations, was because they always ended like this. "How many auditions have you even gone to this month? Seven? Eight? And how many did you actually get? None. For god's sakes, Dimitri, when are you going to get a real job? We can't live off my wages for the rest of our lives! Just man up already and find something else to do!"

I blanched, her words hitting me harder than I thought they would. My career as an actor was far from successful. I'd gotten my fair share of jobs, but was still waiting for my 'big break.' I had thought Tasha had known that…apparently not.

"I'm sorry, love," Her voice softened, but her tone became disturbingly sweet. "I didn't mean to blurt everything out like that, but I just think it's time. It's time you stopped chasing this unrealistic dream and face it – acting is just something that isn't going to happen for you."

I turned away from her, not being able to stand looking at her face a moment longer. Acting had been a dream of mine since I was very young. I had loved drama as a kid and when I was old enough, my family and I moved to America so that I could pursue it as a career. I had been to many auditions since being here – not many of them having many ideal results. I felt as though I was letting them down. Like I was a failure. The biggest acting job I had ever gotten was a small TV commercial two years back. Tasha had been the producer when I got that job and that was where we had first met. We went on a few dates and after a couple of weeks, we made our relationship official.

Back then, the mere mention of her name, or when she rang, used to make me soar high. Nowadays however, I didn't feel that same level of elation when she stopped by. In fact, I realised, it was the opposite. It felt more like an annoyance than anything else.

Tasha had called me after that audition and told me how impressed she - and everyone else there - had been by my skills. She had boosted my confidence and encouraged me to keep going - that everything would work out eventually. And I had believed her.

Something however, had just occurred to me.

"When we first met," I spoke tentatively, not really sure I wanted to know the answer…my gut was telling me that I already knew. "-did I get that job because they liked my acting, or because you asked them to give it to me?"

"Of course I had to pull some strings, Dimitri!" She chuckled as though my question had been idiotic. "You should have seen some of the people you were up against. I did you a favour."

"Did you?" I gaped at her incredulously.

"Of course! I did it because I really liked you." Seemingly, Tasha thought that this was a compliment, and proceeded to drag her sharp nails up my chest. When her hands reached my neck, she clung on to me tight and reattached her lips to my neck.

I recoiled and physically removed her hands from me.

"Get out." For the second time that evening, Tasha pulled away from me.

"What?" She asked, taken aback.

"I said get out." Outside, I kept a calm exterior…but inside, I was raging.

"But Dimitri…What did I do?" She pouted, giving me her signature 'puppy dog' eyes – ones I had fallen for far too many times. Now? Now, they just made me sick. I stood and moved to switch the light back on, causing her to fall off me in the process. When she didn't follow me, I gathered her clothes off of the floor, shoved them into her arms and dragged her to the front door of my apartment. She had barely opened her mouth to get mad at me when I slammed the door shut in her face.

I was angry. No, it was more than that. I was fuming. Now that I knew what she really thought, the very last of Tasha's endearing qualities disappeared. She had never believed in me – never shared my hope that one day, my luck would change. Hell, she didn't even think I was capable of obtaining a decent acting job without her 'help.' It hurt my ego to finally realise that I had only been given my first real job because Tasha wanted to sleep with me. That was all.

I paced my living room back and forth in anger, trying to calm myself. The anger within me left no room for nerves or anxiety of any kind. It surged through me like lava; so strong that I lashed out at some of my very few possessions. My hands shook as I grabbed the picture frame of Tasha and I when we had gone to California last year. Without a second thought, I had hurled the picture across the room, where it hit the opposite wall with a force so strong that it marked the wall itself. Glass littered the ground directly under the mark and larger fragments lay scattered around the broken frame.

Suddenly, I didn't feel so angry. I just felt tired. Very, very tired. As I returned to the bedroom, leaving the mess I had made behind me, I recalled my father's wise words that when I felt this disheartened about acting, I needed to talk a few deep breaths and try again tomorrow.

What if Tasha was right though? What if I really wasn't any good? Was I wasting my time? Fooling myself by going from audition to audition and telling myself that 'next time would be better?' I was halfway to my enticing bed when I stopped, took a deep breath and turned. I returned to the living room and walked over to where the debris lay on the floor. I swept up the broken glass thoroughly and disposed of it along with the picture of Tasha and I.

I trudged back to my room and finally curled up on my side. I didn't want to think about my job, my relationship, or any aspect of my life. I was exhausted – both physically and emotionally – and all I wanted to do was sleep.

And so I did just that.