Starlet's Web - #1 {Exclusive Read}

Starlet's Web - Uaries - THE STATUETTE

~    THE STATUETTE

I had just spent one hour on the red carpet with Byron as my date, being ushered by bodyguards and told to whom we should greet and talk, walking from my Academy-provided limo to my seat in the auditorium with Byron kissing my cheek for the cameras and putting his arm around me any opportunity he found during the times we were together. We were finally in our seats. My feet were killing me in the silver stilettos. My gown probably weighed fifteen pounds and hurt my body from the moment Franz helped me into it. My breasts were taped to provide the right amount of cleavage and uplift. My skin itched everywhere. I was a little sweaty. My face was heavy from the makeup and the false eyelashes pulled at my eyelids. My hair was dark, long and flowing. I had a terrible headache, but I was used to that. Since just after my fourteenth birthday, I always had a headache.

As in all of the awards shows, I was acting at the Oscars, trying to show that I was not acting. TV viewers wanted to think that I was being myself, but if I were myself, I would have been inside my home, looking out the window at the peaceful view, wearing sweats and no makeup, and talking in short bursts of thought as appropriate for a teenager.  I would not be with Byron. I’d be hanging out with Manuel. Fortunately, thinking of Manuel and some of his goofier moments helped me get through the night until Evan, who I knew in advance would be the presenter, announced the nominees for Best Actress in a Leading Role.

The Academy selected the clip of my monologue in which Muse inspires the young Thomas Jefferson to look beyond building Monticello, challenge who he is, change the new world, and build the dream of a United States of America. Muse moves him to action, to dream of universal liberties, and to create a government that serves the people. Muse is passion and hope. I nailed the difficult dialogue and even cried in the scene. I was certainly convincing.

As Evan introduced the last nominee, I continued to smile, knowing the cameras were on me, but I could taste the acid in my mouth and my body shook. I whispered to Byron, “Help me.”

He quickly held my hand and smiled at me, knowing that now the cameras focused on both of us and our possible love connection. I breathed, relieved to share the pressure.

Evan announced, “And the Oscar goes to Marie Michael, Best Actress in a Leading Role.”

I sat there, certain that I did not want the honor. Who was I but some ungrateful kid who did not want the attention?

Byron gently shook the hand he held, trying to help me save face and get going. He kissed my cheek and whispered, “Marie, get it together. Get your ass up there.”

He stood up and carefully pulled me up on my feet, grinning the whole time and whispered again while he hugged me, “You’re an actress, Marie. Go act.”

I composed my face, smiled, and got to the podium. Evan sensed my struggle so he met me at the top of the stairs, embraced me, and kissed my cheek. I didn’t care that the audience would be confused by Evan’s sweetness. I didn’t care that our publicist would be mad that we ruined the charade.

He smiled at me and whispered, “You can do this, ma Cherie. You’re my girl who totally rocks.”

His encouragement calmed meand I took a moment to smile at him before he escorted me to the podium, tell him with my eyes that I would be stronger for both of us. I received my unwanted statuette of a naked, anatomically ambiguous actor. I had the speech my mother wrote memorized. I performed it. I smiled. I leaned on Evan and walked off the stage gracefully to where Mom was waiting for me backstage.

I quickly embraced Evan. “I love you, Evan. Screw the criticism and humiliation just to sell more seats in a theater. I’ve missed you.”

He let go and put his hand under my chin. “I agree and love you always but dating still doesn’t make sense.” He squeezed my shoulder and let go. “I’m proud of you, sweetheart.”

I stared at him while Mom hugged me with enthusiasm.

“Oh, Marie, I’m so proud of you!” She said as she held me.

I nodded at Evan to say au revoir.

I whispered, “Mom, I’m going to puke…hurry.”

Mom smiled to everyone around her as she pulled me quickly to where Sage stood for the handoff. Sage pulled me into a small closet-like room and I threw up into the plastic-lined trash bag she gave me. I dropped to the floor and uncontrollably shook the statuette that was still in my fist. Sage held me in silence until she could see that I had calmed down enough for reason.

“We’ve arranged for you to exit quickly. Sashi will drive you back to the Muse set. Michelle and I will stay. Richard is here, of course, to represent you and his film. You did a great job. Do you think you could handle one more hour backstage?”

“I’d rather not,” I answered. “I’d rather die and go to hell.”

“I know how you feel. I was there, too, but imploded. I’m here so you won’t be me. I’ll fix your makeup and get you in the car. Byron will ride with you back to the set. We’ll give the paparazzi what they want with you two leaving together. Look happy. Carry your Oscar proudly; smile. I’ll get the Oscar for engraving right before you get into the limo.” Sage smiled at me and cleaned up the mess I had made of my face. She sprayed some breath mist into my mouth. They were definitely prepared for me to lose it.

Sage sent some texts and tied up the plastic bag of puke like it was a baby’s dirty diaper. I wondered if Sage had any kids. I knew she was married. I got an email or several emails from her each day, every day. She was more than my manager, she was my crutch. I trusted her but she definitely was a professional who worked for me. We didn’t confide in each other—ever. I was shocked that I never asked about her family.

“I’m sorry I don’t know tons about you. Do you have kids, Sage?”

She smiled at me and then simply said, “You’re my boss. I’m your employee. You have enough on your plate that you don’t have to worry about me, too. I have two boys and a great husband. I love my family and my job. I will always be thankful that your dad hired me. I’m grateful that you give me every Friday afternoon off so I can pray at my mosque. And you pay me very well, thank you.”

She patted me on the shoulder and lifted me up to a standing position. I repositioned my stilettos.

“Ready?” She asked.

“Yeah.” I sighed. I was sure I could make it to the limo.

I stopped to pose with my Oscar and then Byron. I endured the gauntlet of photographers with the protection of our bodyguards. I gave the Oscar to Sage, wishing she could unzip me from the tight dress so I could breathe. I got in the limo and waited for Byron. The door closed behind him, and I felt a wave of relief flow through me.

“You did it, babe! I thought you were going to go into shock. Damn, you’re one hell of an actress.” Byron put his arm around me and kissed my cheek.

I shifted away from him and removed my shoes. My feet were throbbing. “Thanks, Byron. I suffer from stage fright. I sure didn’t want to win tonight. But it’s good for the Muse brand, bad for the Marie Michael brand.”

“Yeah, thanks for being so awesome. I get paid $100,000 for my role in this project and then will make millions because you win the Oscar for best actress. Now everyone will see Constantine’s Muse. You just made my career. Thanks.”

I joked, “Byron, ya know it’s your agent, manager, publicist, stylist, trainer, lawyer and bartender who will get most of that.”

The mention of a bartender immediately made Byron pour himself a drink from the bar and light a cigarette. Byron was a chimney.

I really felt for him. He probably couldn’t quit acting for another five years with the contracts to which he was bound, and he was a walking time bomb of self-destruction. He had no handle on the fame. He repeated the same story about himself to everyone he met and, after he was smashed an hour later, told the same story again. He probably thought people cared but would soon learn that nobody did. He’d soon learn to trust no one.

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Only 1% of actors make millions. 99% of the people in the film industry scrape by. Say, "glad to be me" in the comments if you're happy the way you are. Please vote and keep reading about Liana Marie's self-discovery. Thanks for reading ;-)