“It isn’t just you,” her savior assured her. “They seem to be unreceptive to any of us-even me!”
The “even me” tag line was, of course, typical of Lex. A male model turned actor, his success had heightened his already substantial opinion of himself. It had been noted more than once that the only thing bigger than his ego was, unfortunately, his talent. When he was “on,” he had the gift of appearing to totally focus his attention, making whoever he was dealing with at the time feel that they were the most important, interesting person in the universe. This impression was conveyed even when the other “person” was a camera lens or the “third wall” of a stage, giving him the ability to affect an audience as few actors can. It was only when he was relaxed that his true disdain for others showed, encouraging most to maintain him as an acquaintance rather than as a friend.
Tiffany knew him only in passing from one production they had worked together, and normally would avoid his company. Even now, as desperate as she was for someone to talk to, she couldn’t resist “zinging” him a little.
“Well, some of us seem to be doing okay,” she said, pointing with her chin to a far corner where a petite young girl was engrossed in a conversation with a towering Legionnaire with a huge, warthog head.
Lex followed her gaze.
“Who? Her?” He managed to convey both disgust and dismissal by intonation alone. “She isn’t really one of us. She’s only done a few things, all amateur. In fact, this was her big try at breaking into professional acting.”