Sean Snayke - I`m sure you know him, even though you may not remember his face. It`s one of those faces you see, like and then it slips from your memory again. It was the same with me, before I r e a l l y took notice of him. But afterwards it seemed to me that he had always been there, starring in so many films I can`t even remember now. But interestingly it wasn`t a particular film that made me notice him at last. It was an interview he gave. Reading it all through I couldn`t help but smile about his irony, his intelligence, his wit. He seemed to stand outside it all and I started adoring him. That was a day before I forgot him again. But something must have gotten stuck in my mind, for I took my chance to lay my hands on a bunch of his films. And what shall I say? The moment Sean Snayke turned to talk to the camera, I was hooked. I was captivated by the ironical twinkle in his eyes, by the way he gestured vividly with his hands, the way his eyes spoke more than his words could ever do. Something in his style stroke a string inside my soul, something in his slightly detached attitude spoke to me in a way I have never experienced before. He was like a tall shadow moving unnoticed among those buzzing, busy people; rather a watcher than a participant. Though divided by oceans of time and space I felt a strange familiarity, for I myself have always felt, as if I was standing outside a bit. Even in the middle of a crowd I was alone, feeling the distance between those people and me. Of course I had a family, friends and I loved them dearly. But there was a place deep inside my soul, that remained empty; a dark hole, that swallowed every light; something inside me that was starving, craving for something I couldn`t even name. The only time, the gnawing hunger in my entrails became silent, was when I sat in the darkness of a cinema, getting sucked in by the events on screen. The images connected directly to my mind, fulfilled my soul and for once I was satisfied. Of course it didn`t last long. When the film ended and the lights went on, the hunger assaulted me again, more tormenting than ever. And so I spent more and more time sitting in dark cinemas inhaling the magic on celluloid. But the more I saw, the more I needed. I was like an addict craving for a higher dose of her drug. More films, more darkness, more depth, more passion. Reality was superficial, feelings were pragmatic, shortlived, lukewarm. Sure, there was understanding, sympathy, warmth, sometimes even love in relationships. But there was no depth, no intensity, no passion. Other people seemed to be contented with that, they had friendships and relationships, feeling safe and satisfied, and when they came to an end, they cried a little and moved on. It didn`t really influence their way of life. Living like that was never enough for me; emotions just didn`t reach deep enough to fill this empty place inside my soul. And so I came to the cinema night after night, longing for the illusion of depth.

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When I made my first trip to London, I hadn`t seen a thoughtprovoking, soulconsuming film for weeks. And so it happened that I was roaming the streets to find a cinema. Of course you can find many cinema`s in London; huge glassy movie-palaces, the neon lights glaring cold through the night. But that wasn`t what I needed tonight; I needed something more intense, private, almost intimate. And so I kept on roaming and wandering restlessly throught he night, until I detected a high stony bow, that closed the gap between "Burger King" and "Tower Records", leading into a narrow alley. Even though I strained my eyes, I couldn`t seen anything but thick darkness. It was one of those alley, your mother has always told you to stay away from; maybe that was the reason why I felt drawn towards it and so I turned from the noisy streets and stepped into the blackness.

All noises died down and a slight breeze stroke my face, carrying silent whispers with it. When I walked deeper into the alley, my eyes got used to the darkness. Old half decayed houses stood at both sides of the street reaching high up into the heaven without ever having the chance of touching it. Windows gaped at me like blind eyes in an old furrowed face. It seemed that the place had been abandoned long time ago. But just when I decided to go back, I noticed a certain house; old and dusty like the other ones, but spreading a dark glow, that caught my attention. When I stepped closer, I saw that the glow came from a window. Three candles were lightening a cushion of darkred velvet. Spread on it was a gleaming poster and two familar dark eyes stared up at me, glittering almost vividly in the flicker of the candles. My look wandered across his face up to the title. SEAN SNAYKE in THE HUNGER NEVER ENDS: My stomach fluttered a bit, when I reached out for the door, praying it wouldn`t stay shut excluding me from the bliss I was hoping to find inside. But it seemed I was lucky this night, for the door opened with a piercing squeal and I entered a softly lit hall. The greyhaired man behind the counter scrutinized me suspiciously telling me the film had already started, before adding grumpily I should rather visit a bigger cinema in London. I was slightly taken aback; but when I told him that I had never met a cinema owner who didn`t want to make money, he just snorted and handed me a yellow piece of paper, obviously my ticket. I didn`t hesitate and entered the dark room. As I had expected there were only a few people staring spellbound at the screen.

I let myself fall onto a seat, my eyes wandering towards the screen. Oh, a love scene - at the beginning of the film? Well, then we won`t see a happy end I suppose.

Sean Snayke is standing behind a small woman, whose hair falls in red cascades down her shoulders. They look to a spot just out of sight for the camera, but suddenly Sean bores his eyes into the camera`s eye and sends a bolt of electricity through my veins. I sink deeper into my seat, almost tempted to avoid his eyes; these eyes, that can`t see me, and yet it feels as if their intense glow burns under my skin. The darkness thickens, closes in on me, drawing me into these eyes, and my surroundings sink into oblivion. There`s nothing but the magical connection between the screen and me. The magic I`ve been needing to feel for so long. In a corner of mind I feel, that it could be too much this time; a warning voice whispers to me, tells me to leave, before it`s too late. But I`ve been waiting for so long; I`ve craved, hungered for this intensity and now I just can`t turn away.

Sean turns his look towards the woman in front of him, smiling his Sean - Snayke - smile and I feel a sudden twinge in my stomach. His eyes are fixed on the camera again, as his hands caress the woman`s naked shoulders and my hands curl to fists, as something seems to force all air out of my chest. The warning voice inside me grows louder. Run! It tells me. Run now! But I`m too far gone to listen. I just sit there gasping for air, mesmerized by Sean Snayke`s eyes.

He puts his hands around the actress drawing her closer to him; his lips sink down to the spot, where her shoulder meets her neck, and all the time he`s facing the camera, piercing me with dark gaze. This is too much! I jump up. I can`t breathe. I must get out off here! Now!

I run head over heels out of the dark room, straight towards the toilets. There I lean against a cool wall, trying to calm my drumming heart, inhaling precious air.

What the hell has happened in there? An unexpected attack of claustrophobia? The room wasn`t even half full. And yet something in there has sucked any air out of my lungs. I step towards the basin turning the rusted water-taps and with a metallic gasps it releases the water. I lower my head splashing the cold water into my face, hoping to find back to reality. My legs are still shaking and my head is throbbing, trying to eliminate the thick mist that has spread inside my mind. But slowly my heartbeat slows down and it becomes clear to me that I`ve just had the first panic attack in my life. A panic attack in an old cinema in an abandoned alley in London, watching my favourite actor - how strange life sometimes is!

I feel the warmth return to my cheeks and realize that the nagging hunger will come back before long. I look into the mirror, but the glass is blind. Well, it doesn`t really matter, for everytime I look into a mirror I see the same. An unusually pale face with sometimes dulled, sometimes feverish green eyes under a shock of ashblonde hair, that you really can`t call a haircut anymore. With a sigh I reach for some paper to dry my hands, but before I can grab it, a towel is pressed into my hand. Without a word I dry my face. So the greyhaired man isn`t that unfriendly after all. At least he has come to see if I was okay. I turn around to thank him, when I suddenly feel all colour drain from my face and the air seems to flee from my chest again. In front of me someone stands, I surely wouldn`t have expected to see here. The black leather coat playing around his legs make him look even taller than he appears to be on screen. His tousled black hair seems to glow in the hard white light; I can`t see his eyes, for they are hidden behind dark glasses, but there`s no doubt it`s him. Who would ever have thought that I`d come to face Sean Snayke in the toilet of a cinema, that must have had his glorious days in the last century?

His lips curl into the wry smile, that I have so often seen on screen.

"The film is not THAT bad, is it?" His voice is low, melodious, slightly husky.

I smile nervously. "I don`t know. I haven`t finished watching it."

He laughs, a deep throaty honest laugh and leans a bit forwards. "Let me tell you, it`s not really worth it."

I`m sure, if he didn`t wear these sunglasses, I could see a twinkle in his eyes. And for some reason it makes my skin prickle. He leans back against the wall, folding his arms loosely across his chest and eyes me up and down. I feel nervous excitement build in my stomach spreading over my whole body. If I only had put on a bit make up tonight! If I only had a proper haircut! If I only hadn`t put on my oldest jeans and the T-shirt, that had been white ages ago! I`m standing here with Sean Snayke and I`m looking like a scarecrow, a fat scarecrow. And I`m not even able to say something intelligent, or to say anything at all. Oh how I wish the ground would open and devour me completely, or, since this is very unlikely to happen, I wish I would black out, just faint right here and now. But, oh wait, that wouldn`t be a good idea. Maybe Sean would try to catch me and probably hurt himself. Or I would crash down to the earth, creating an earthquake, and Sean would get hurt, too. So blacking out is not an option. But what shall I do then? Charm him with some witty remark? Good plan, just somethow I can`t find my wit today, not to speak of my charm, that`s practically not existing.

"Would you mind to look somewhere else, Mr. Snayke? You`re making me nervous." At least I`m being honest, he should appreciate that - I hope.

"This is not my intention." There`s a twitch at the corner of his mouth, as he reaches out his hand. "Why don`t you call me Sean?"

I take his hand feeling his warmth skipping over to me, spreading inside my veins and I feel intoxicated. Sean. Oh there are so many more names that spring to my mind instantly. Genius, Prince Charming, Mr Wonderful.

His hearty laugh interrupts my high-spirited daydreaming. "Sean will be enough - for a start."

I`m sure his eyes sparkle behind these dark glasses, as I feel my stomach flutter uncontrollably. NO, I didn`t say this loud, did I?

"Yes, you did." He grins.

There are just two explanations possible: Either he can read my mind or I have gone crazy, not even knowing when I think and when I speak.

He doesn`t reply this time, that`s why I guess, he can`t read my mind, so it`s a fact - I finally have gone mad. Well, then it doesn`t really matter, what I say, right?

I shrug my shoulders and smile back at him. "That`s what comes from too many conversations with myself."

"At least you have a witty person to talk to."

Oh great! Sean Q. Zach is making fun of me! I throw my head back, hoping to look proud, but probably I only look affected or even worse pitiful, since I haven`t got flowing locks to throw back effectively.

"Usually I`m a good talker, But this is a rather unusual situation for me, and I`m still trying to cope."

"I think you manage quite well." He sais encouragingly, before adding: "Would you mind giving me back my hand?"

Like in slowmotion I look down, seeing that my hand is still holding his; and I didn`t even notice, before he mentioned it, it just felt natural, like a part of my body.

I hastily let go of it and step back, feeling my face turn scarlet.

"I`m so sorry, Mr. - Sean. I didn`t mean to." I stutter not able to meet his gaze anymore.

"So what do you say about changing the location and going to a nice little restaurant?"

Forgetting that I`m still embarassed I lift my head and gape at him. "Why?"

He frowns and raises his eyebrows over the edge of his sunglasses. "Because I`m hungry." There are small questionsmarks in his voice.

"Oh yes, of course." I hurry to say. "But why with me?"

He leans closer to me. "Because I`don`t like eating on my own."

Then when I begin to feel somehow special, he adds somewhat evilly. "Until someone better comes along, you`ll suffice."

I stare at him, trying to see if he`s being serious.

He cocks his head grinning widely. "you know I`m just making fun, don`t ya?"

"Oh sure." I say. "And until a abig moviestar comes along, you will suffice." There you have it, Sean Snayke, two can play the game!

Sean just laughs and turns to go, motioning me to follow him, and I do.