05-08-2013, 05:07 PM
Criss lay in bed, alone. All alone. For all of the publicity, the adulation of the Loyals, the beautiful women surrounding him at LAX or Body English or any of the other clubs, Criss Angel was probably the lonliest man in Las Vegas. Oh, sure, he had friends, fellow celebrities like himself with whom he hung out, and he had dated some of the hottest females around, but he still felt lonely. Had he spent too much time cultivating his rock-star image that he simply could not find that special someone who would love him for who he really was? He had basked in the glow of applause, savoring the thrill of the crowd's astonishment and delight, but here in his suite on top of the Luxor, where no one was allowed in without security clearance, he felt cut off from the rest of the world. He was the greatest magician since Houdini, accomplishing such spectacular feats of illusion and escape beyond what the legendary King of Handcuffs had done in his time, but he was still a man, with a man's needs.
In an idle moment during taping, Criss had logged onto one of the fansites to read what the Loyals were saying about him. On a whim, he read some of their fanfictions. There was one where he fell in love with a mermaid and found himself being transformed into one, another where he fell in love with his personal assistant, and another where he met this girl from the South who kept calling him "Boo". Many stories had him fathering illegitamate children, to his embarrassment. Some portrayed him as a vampire, or a wizard. There were a lot of stories starring his CSI: NY character, Luke Blade, either as a long-lost twin brother or as an anti-hero (one writer went so far as to actually concoct an entire biography about him!), and even he got lucky with the ladies, for good or ill. Yet they were all pretty much the same--Criss meets girl, Criss dates girl, Criss loses girl, Criss gets girl back, Criss marries girl and has a family. He had quite a love life in fiction, but in reality he had no one. His name had been linked to many famous women in the past--Britney Spears, Miss Nevada, Gisele, among others, but a link was not the same as a bond.
Suddenly his thoughts turned back to JoAnn, his ex. No, he sternly told himself. No remembering. That ship had sailed; JoAnn was history as far as he was concerned. It had been great, but now it was gone. Over and done with. Build a bridge and get over it. He shoved all thoughts of her out of his head like a bar bouncer giving a drunk the bum's rush.
Still, he yearned for someone to keep him company, a warm body and soft hands to caress his aching muscles and a shoulder for him to cry on when he needed it, someone to share his thoughts and dreams as well as his flesh. But every girl he met seemed to lack something he wanted, some quality that he just could not put his finger on. Was he too choosy, too particular? Should he lower his standards a little, be less of a perfectionist in his relationships and more open-minded?
Criss clutched the bed pillow closer to him. Oh, God, how he yearned for female companionship tonight! The sensation of skin on skin, the heightening of the senses between two people, the pure physical pleasure of it all--how he longed for all that! He began to envy his eldest brother, JD, and his wife, Lynn. Criss may have all the material wealth, but JD had the love of a beautiful woman and a real home to go to at night instead of this gilded cage on top of the Luxor Hotel. The lonliness welled up inside Criss' soul at the thought of JD's home and family life until the tears spilled onto the pillow.
Is there no one for me? he asked God as he wept. Is there no one with whom I can share my life? Am I condemned to spend the rest of my life alone? Even Houdini had Bess. Where is my Bess? Where is my special someone?