Dear Diary, it's Marilyn

Chapter 18

I like this chapter so I hope you do too.

We got 49 votes last chapter! Which means...*drum roll*... we've reached my goal of 50 votes! I decided 50 votes is all the time I need to write new chapters for you, so that's my limit! I promise you guys I won't ask for more than 50 votes for a new chapter(unless I get enough readers to reach 100, which would be incredible). So thank you everyone for that!

So I made this chapter a little longer than I expected to in celebration of a few things:

1) We got to 50!

2) This story got to it's best place yet on the WH list, #87!

and 3) This story got to #3 for historical fiction! And one day it will get to #1, that's my goal :)

Thanks so much everyone!!! I love all your supportive comments on this story and on my profile page. You guys are the best readers/fans ever! Now here is chapter 18.

Chapter 18

The filming of Niagra had gone smoothly so far, and we were almost finished. It was being shot in Technicolor, which I enjoyed because the actors got to wear colorful, fun clothes to film in.

Jean Peters, a co-star and new friend of mine, didn’t like it as much as I did. She preferred darker, more sophisticated clothes. Jean was very much like the character she portrayed.

It was definitely odd that we were friends; she and I were nothing alike. I mean, sure, Jean was very sweet and I liked to think that I was too, but our tastes and attitudes were so different. Jean was very modest and, to risk sounding petty, she was much too serious for her own good. She was attractive, but not pretty so much as mysterious.

 Think of it this way, if you entered a crowded room, you would probably avoid her because she would be standing in a corner, leaning against a wall, eyes downcast, a frown on her face. Jean was also very soft-spoken, but if you did strike up a conversation with her, she was pretty interesting. I don’t believe Jean was at all the Hollywood archetype though; she had never outgrown her farm girl roots. She also cried at the drop of a hat.

We became friends after she messed up her lines in one of the last scenes in Niagra. Maybe it had been a bad day for her, maybe not, but she ran off the set and to her trailer. I decided to follow her to see what was wrong, and found her crying. She told me she felt like she was letting everyone down each time she forgot her lines. Needless to say, I comforted her and we became friends.

 I had been in a movie with Jean once before in 1951, and I remembered her a little more carefree than she was now. Perhaps something in her life had drastically changed her. I never asked.

I was supposed to meet Jean for lunch at her house in an hour. I had never been invited to her house before and I was curious to see what sort of an environment she lived in.

I was standing in front of my dresser completely naked, debating what I should wear. Something modest that Jean would approve of? Something to make me stand out? The only other friend I ever had lunch with was Bebe, and she was so different from Jean. I didn’t want to insult Jean by wearing something inappropriate, but I hardly owned anything else…

The doorbell ringing pulled me from my thoughts. I wasn’t expecting anyone…I glanced around for a robe to throw on before rushing out of my room to answer the door.  

I threw open my door to see a lady dressed all in black walking down the hall and away from my apartment.

“Excuse me!” I called after her. “Were you just at my door?”