Statehouse Oneshots

I need someone to remember me | Hollywood Cali angst

TW: Eating disorders, body issues, religious trauma maybe, slightly suicidal if you squint. Basically Hollywood is not good for mental health

The stars were slowly disappearing from the sky.

California lay on the grass outside his home, staring at the vast expanse of light above him. One that should be much more full, but had slowly been losing that light, and he’d only just realized this now.

They called him a natural beauty. His land had once been thought of as folklore, something that couldn’t be real. So of course, strange new people came to see it. Who could blame them? He hadn’t minded, merely wanting to be helpful. He didn’t mind when they started stripping him of the gold. Of course they wanted it, it was so pretty. He was valuable. He didn’t mind when they left after it had depleted. He had learned quickly the importance of value, of having something to offer people. He had nothing more to offer those people, so of course they left. He didn’t mind, he told himself, when people started coming back and ripping up his forests and redirecting his rivers for their towns. They needed a place to stay, why wouldn’t they? It didn’t bother him they hadn’t even tried to live without destruction, as it had been done by others before.

But now the stars were leaving him, and he was beginning to realize he was far too late to stop anything.

__

“Mr. Flores! Mr. Flores! Over here!”

California smiled, waving to the crowd of reporters. His last few movies were a success, this one being no exception. He had gotten rather used to the paparazzi as..Difficult as they could be at times. The flash from their cameras no longer made him flinch.

About a year ago, he had started growing bored with life as a totally responsible personification. Government had always said that while the states could interact with the humans as needed to live normal lives, they shouldn’t chase fame. Or, get into legal trouble but no one really followed that second part. That Fed had been all too happy to help clean up their messes if something slipped. California meant to follow that first rule, he really did. Only, it was just so boring living life by himself, and Oregon and Washington were so busy these days. Normally he’d go do what was probably wildly illegal things with Nevada, but that just..lost its appeal. He wanted something new.

No one had really been happy with his decision. Nevada in particular decided to tell him just how shit of a choice it truly was. He told him it would be dangerous, or whatever, and that he’d probably regret it. Government had said much the same, only in a much more boring and stuffy way. When the news broke, California had gotten an in depth lecture about the dangers of an immortal in a mortal society, and of just being famous in general. He was told several times over that most people don’t make it and he’d just be screwing himself over trying. So of course he had to prove them wrong. Besides, he had that man wrapped around his finger, Gov would come around.

And look at him now! He was a star! A true star! And like one, he will burn bright. Who are they to stop him?

Idly he answered questions about the movie, making sure to keep his demeanour charming and sweet.

The world at his hands, and all he had to do, was follow a few simple rules. There was stuff about not drinking, or smoking, something about bringing girls home, he hadn’t quite been paying attention. He already knew it was less of a “Never can'' thing, and more of a “Don’t let the public see” which he was alright with. His managers had started changing his appearance to fit his new image. They framed it as suggestions but Cali could already tell they were strict expectations. He had to make sure he was fashionable, never to be caught looking like a slob. There were no grey hairs, no stubble, no eyebags, and no scars. He was not a villain in these movies. He covered his imperfections with makeup and clothing. He didn’t have to worry about the grey hairs yet. After about a month his agency had decided his freckles had to go. Didn’t suit him well enough to be allowed in. His hair had to be straightened and styled a certain way. He had to be thinner. Cali was put on a diet almost immediately. So many things wrong, and he just hadn’t noticed before. He heard them talking about how his skin tone may be an issue, but they hadn’t done anything about it yet.