Faustian Love

“Well, the truth is I can’t take all the credit, no. Most of it, though!”

The press erupted in laughter as Chester Malachi leaned into the microphone. The dapper director smiled wittingly.

“Sincerely, like anything great it takes the efforts of an army. It’s a shame all the attention is directed towards one person, regardless if they’re responsible for it – yes?” Chester pointed into the crowd.

A scrawny man stood up gleefully. “Mr. Malachi, would you say your success makes life easier?”

“Naturally! If one spends a life in pursuit and one achieves what is pursued, I’d say their life is a success, making each morning he wakes a luxury.”

“What do you miss about life before fame, Mr. Malachi?” a long-haired woman shot up from the crowd and asked.

“Very little,” Chester thought about it. “Although, if I had to pick, I’d say I was asked far less questions about my life back then!” The press laughed again; always amused with the wit of Chester Malachi. “Course, no one had nearly as much interest as you all do, so I try to forgive your total persistence in invading my precious privacy – Ha ha ha! Yes, yes, in the back there?”

A gorgeous brunette rose from the crowd with a large burgundy brimmed hat. She wore bright red lipstick and revealed her eyes as she looked up, captivating the room with her breathless presence. Chester held back his anger.

“Chester,” she asked in a voice that crackled like a candle. “Can you recall any regrets in your life? Perhaps things you might have done different, had you paid better attention?”

Heads slowly turned to listen to Chester’s response to such a prodding question. Chester glared at the brunette.

“I think like all men, sinful and broken, we ought to do better.”

“Naturally – don’t worry, Chester, you don’t have to be astute to answer this. Give honesty a shot. For once.”

“I also think we learn best by doing, and if we don’t try we might never know where we’re supposed to be.” Chester leaned forward on the table and stared at her. “And I’m supposed to be where I am.”

“It makes sense, at least to me, that one would always believe they’re always where they’re supposed to be if they only listen to themselves.”

“It makes equal sense, to everyone, that it’s rather important to do what you love.”

“At the cost of losing who you love?”

Heads darted back and forth between this woman and Chester. The tension filled the room.

“Ms. Aubrey… it seems redundant, as a reporter, to ask questions you already know the answers to,” Chester grumbled.

“I agree, except for the answers that are obvious lies,” Aubrey retorted. “Since we’re so proud of your well-deserved success, Chester Malachi, why don’t you tell us what it cost?”

“Yeah, Mr. Malachi, what’d you sacrifice to get here?” the scrawny reported chimed in. Soon the whole crowd begged for Chester’s answer. Aubrey smirked devilishly as she slipped away and left the room.

Chester swallowed and rubbed his face nervously. “I, uh…” He looked down at his feet and paused.

“At a loss for words? Very unlike you, Mr. Malachi! Cat got your tongue?” The press chuckled at the reporters heckling.

“I put… I put this career first. Because I wanted it. Because I needed.”

“So what’d you have to give up to achieve it? Smoking? Alcohol? Girls?”

“More. So much more…”

“But, like you said, no regrets, isn’t that right, Mr. Malachi?”

Chester directed his eyes towards the exit, where Aubrey left.