me & my total lack of identity

a novella

by
KT Penman

i have no dreams. it occurred to me, the man was fucking me and i was staring up at the supermoon. that's what They were calling it. super, i'm not sure why. it was very full, maybe a bit brighter. maybe bigger, i'm only guessing. nothing just was anymore. it wasn't a full moon, it was super, it's not a tidal wave, it's a tsunami, it's not cold, it's a polar vortex. you know what i mean?

the man's breath came in short puffs and he pounded at me with the desperation of one having his last fuck. his mouth sought mine, we kissed, both of us moaning. when it was over he clung to me. he was beautiful but the hair that fell in his eyes was unable to hide the pain i could see.

i watched him pad across the floor, his white buttocks glowing in the super moonlight. i felt bad for him but i was impatient to get on with it. he had to go, he was talking to much, unraveling. he was a loose cannon and They were clear on these kinds of things.

the vial was in my purse and i poured the contents into his glass of sparkling water. when he returned he did 2 lines from the mirror on the nightstand. he smiled which was good, it seemed important. when i offered him the glass of water i was smiling as well. here you go. he drank it all and got back in the bed. i put my arm around him. rest, you should, i said.

i am tired, he said.

it was only moments before he began to fade and then he died. i held his head as it slid on to the pillow and then confirmed he was really dead. there was no room for error, mistakes had happened before.

getting up, i took the mini vacuum from my bag and ran it around the bed. i dressed quickly dreading the frigid night and in these shoes but i was grateful he lived on the 3rd floor. i put on my coat and gloves and then tied a kerchief around my head. i finished the remaining cocaine and slipped the bill in the pocket of my coat then did one more thorough peruse of the place. i must be careful.

the balcony looked over a small, private courtyard and faced the back of the building. i lingered there only a moment before my teeth began to chatter.

after i attached the grappling hook to the railing, i climbed over and silently scaled down the side. earlier. when i had arrived, as arranged the building's cc cameras had been turned off. they probably still were but i couldn't be sure. i figure i can use the exercise.

it perturbed me that i had to stop a couple of times  to catch my breath. the six inch stilettos weren't great for gripping the brick wall either.

gulping the frigid air felt like a punch in the throat. i didn't want to jump, it was too dark, so i used the rope almost to the ground. once there i pressed the button at the end of the device and the grappling hook zipped back into my hand. back on terra firma i swallowed 2 Xanax.

astrolling through little italy i felt he first strings of serenity. i walked up Canal almost to Broadway where i met the driver and we drove for hours to another city where i boarded an early morning flight to LA. from LAX i took the shuttle, then a cab.

by my bed was a blue pill and a note that said TAKE ME. immediately, i did.

the kettle's on the table by the window in my bedroom. i kind of live in here. i rented the whole condo a year ago, it's nice, furnished but mostly i just stay in the bedroom.

i prepare my coffee, a tablespoon of nescafe and 6 sugars and then i light a smoke making note there's only 6 left. i smoke a pack and a half a day. i don't recommend it.

my mother says i should buy them by the carton like she does but that's exactly it, she does and she told me i should so i don't. know what i mean? buying my cigarettes is part of my day, it gives me purpose.

i take the pipe from the ashtray and have a couple tokes. 10 seconds later and i'm filled with dread and worry. of what i'm unsure. everything?

when i was 16 i got my license and i would drive up and down the coast listening to music and smoking pot and i remember feeling very relaxed. now, instant paranoia.

i take a couple more hit. the first time i smoked weed i was 9. i had just done an audition with this boy and his mother was driving me home. she told me to hold the smoke in as long as i could. after that she told the boy to kiss me and put his hand in my top. she watched us, applying her lipstick. she laughed, she thought it was cute.

the phone chimes alerting me of a text. it's my brother kory: meet me at kathys for lunch bring many dinero & u have???

there's other texts as well. i was asleep for a long time. there's some percocets on the table in a candy dish and I put 6 of them on a magazine and set to crushing them with the back of my coffee spoon.

my agent, Blondine has left a few texts, she needs to speak to me, urgently. as always urgently is in all caps.

satisfied i crushed the pills enough- one day i mean to get one of those mortar and pestle sets- i form the pile of white powder into lines. Mom has texted once my wondering where i am. i make the first snort a big one and it burns deep into my sinuses and i yell out as it hits the back of my brain. i lie on the bed for a minute holding my nose before i then return to the table to do another hit. i text kory. when?

now

k

i continue snorting. percocets are big and some people find it to be a lot of powder. for me there's never enough. sometimes i mix them with the pit and freebase them but i just live snorting. i call Blondine. she says that she could book me some work on one of the CSI's.

i think you should do it. she always says that.

of course i'm going to do it, i'm an actress, it's a job. i need to work.

i think you're right, i reply, i should.

but that's nothing. sit down. are you sitting? omg. i got you a reading for the dog movie.

there's less powder now, i scoop it all together and flatten it, cutting new lines with my credit card.

great.

do you know what i'm talking about?

yes.

the script had been around for awhile, an audrey hepburn 50's type romance thing. nobody wanted to touch it but apparently it's time had come.

you don't seem very excited. she sighed.

Blondine thought i was lazy. i was supposed to be a big star after the surfing movie i did a six years ago. she said i had no ambition and an actress without ambition was nothing.

oh nice, so you're saying i'm nothing.

well no it's just an expression but yeah sort of.

i wanted another line but she'd hear so i lit a cigarette.

i am excited, i said, i am. do you know somebody that can fix my bookshelf? it's all wobbly.

the percs are already clogging my sinuses but i don't mind, in a litle while i'll sniff and it will all slide down my throat like mud filling in all the cracks.

i find my phone and log onto Gossip Rocks, a website dedicated to celebrity gossip. i check it out every morning to see if i'm worthy of a holla. i can always be found in the WEIGHT section where my nickname is wafer because i'm too skinny. i think it's cute. the comments will follow a series of papparazzi shots of me coming out of the gym with an expression on my face like i've just been kicked in the box.

there's nothing new about me today but the top story is that the actor, clifford langille was dead of an apparent OD. i scrolled through the outpourings of outrage and despair. he was 28.

we made a film together last year. he and i smoked crystal with the lead actress and we had a three some and then i stole her earrings. she blamed the maid and i think the woman got fired. i felt bad.

my horoscope is boring, i only like the carpe diem stuff. i'm a Cancer, a Dragon, so i not only think I'm special, i really am. Mom says being Cancer gives me my moods because i'm ruled by the moon. i wonder what her excuse is. she's an Aquarius.

kathy's is on sunset a stone's throw from my teenage hangout, the Chateau Marmon. that was during the reign of paris hilton. i mean i was a total absolute beginner. 15 or 16. it feels so long ago, like a different era. i can hardly remember most of it though that might have something to do with things besides the passage of time.

i wait for kory on the sidewalk having a smoke and 2 teenage girls ask to take a selfie so i do. they tell me that they love me.

i love you too, i say.

kory looks like a starving artist from the paint on his jeans to the fact that he looks like he hasn't eaten in some time. when i hug him he smelled like sweaty leather and cigarettes.

look what the cat dragged in.

he laughs and steals the cigarettes from my purse.

omg you are so skinny.

so are you.

i get paid for it. are you shooting up?

why? no. he takes a drag then stretches his arms wide. excuse me, I just got here.

let me see your arms.

you don't want to.

are you high now?

are you?

we walked up the street smoking a joint, talking about regualrity, colonics and benzodiazapines. Xanax, we agree is the most valley of the dolls of all modern pharmaceuticals but the Valium which is harder to get is the best. i think they both help with regularity. i give kory some Xannies.

got any Vicodin? Oxy?

i wish.

he knows I have them, I don't care. i'm generous but not with my babies. he gives me some muscle relaxants.

i'm doing murals now. i've got 2 guys helping me. we're thinking of starting a band, maybe, it's sort of already going. i guess hey, is this organic he asks the waitress.

it's called kathy's organic restaurant, she said.

that's a yes then, right? she walked away. you have to ask them, they can give you any old crap but they can't lie about it. like cops. you know, like if you say are you a cop? they can't lie.

i've heard that. have you talked to mom?

kory lifted his eyes from his food and stared at me.
what do you think? how is the witch?

i never know where it stands with you two. i don't know, fine i guess. she's the same as always.

i don't even know why you talk to her, let alone be your fucking manager.

my smoothie was chalky, the berries had been frozen and were like small, tasteless chunks of ice.
you always start this. you're kind of obsessed.

it's not just what she did to me, all that sick shit, it's everything. i'm angry, ok?

i know.

no you don't. you don't know, you don't want to.

what about daddy?

daddy didn't try to fuck me.

he stole all your money. all of our money.

omg. you don't actually believe that, do you? i know you don't. that bitch is loaded, she's got the money stashed everywhere and most of it belongs to me. and daddy didn't kill heather.

kory and i had a sister once.

heather killed herself.

no, she didn't. stop saying that. why do you do that? she landed 30 feet from her balcony.

she took a a running leap? maybe it was the wind. she was on like the fourtieth floor or something. what are your murals about?

heather was thrown off that balcony. she was. we're doing a series. celebrities in prison, sanitariums, work houses. we got marilyn of course and whitney and frances farmer. let's see, we got michael jackson and dorothy stratten, elvis.

wow. so many. am i in them?

no and you're not going to be.

is heather?

yeah, probably.

Mom just discovered Facetime and she's all about it.

if i text her, she texts back, facetime me! so i don't bother to text anymore, i just Facetime.

there's foil on her head.

i'm at the beauty parlor. she holds up a magazine. i think it's a picture of kate moss. do you like this color? i'm getting it.

your hair is that color.

i'm sick of the ash. golden is in, i'm just afraid it will be too red.

i saw kory today, we had lunch.

oh, what's he angry about today?

you should call him.

i'm done with him, i've washed my hands.

you're his mother.

yeah, i know, i'm well aware. the one that ruined his life. i'm sick of it. he's a 30 year old man still whining about his tragic childhood. you should have been there for my childhood. he's a waste of sperm and egg as far as i'm concerned. what about his father the homosexual who stole all our money?

actually his money. Kory's money.

pardon me? oh, excuse me. his money. like i didn't work my fucking ass off for you kids. you know what, i just want to get my hair done. it's a little something just for me, is that so much to ask? but thank you for calling and ruining my day.

i just called to say hi.

Zapper hadn't replied to my texts in 2 days and i was getting anxious watching my supply dwindle away. he was always unreliable, the worst dealer in the world and I'd told him so but he was in love with me and so the price was better than anywhere else. i dreaded calling mostly because there's nothing so deflating as voice mail but it picked up after two rings.
yes, hello. it was a woman's voice, clear and confident.

Zapper?

Zapper is unavailable. who is calling please? she had a slight accent i couldn't place like mid atlantic, slightly british.

i hesitated.

who is calling? something in her voice told me she already knew so i said my name.

oh yes. i meant to text you back. he said you might call. do you have the address?

i'd always met Zapper on the street. i'd never been to his place.

no.

she gave it to me.

can you text it to me? she said she would.

how long will you be?

shortly, i said. drugs were never something i dawdled over.

i'd never even thought about Zapper having a place but of course he had to live somewhere. I found the address, the door was right on the sidewalk and I buzzed 6 as instructed. there was a loud click and a groan as the door allowed me entry.

i climbed the cement stairs. normally i might have felt nervous, going to a strange place but i was kind of excited and definitely curious.

she was very tall, an inch or two shy of six feet. a beautiful black girl with cat like eyes and violet strands woven in her hair. Her lips were perfection.

come in, she said.

the apartment was furnished with a mishmash of items you might find on the curb - nothing matched- but it was nothing like the decrepit drug den I was expecting. the shades were down half way but the sun still streamed in from the two large windows and within the clutter i thought it was quite a nice place. comfortable.

the woman offered me a seat on the green couch.

so where's Zapper?

he's in the hospital again. Zapper had a hernia operation once and the doctor tied his balls to his colon or something like that. something awful.

multiplied by his other constant mishaps, he was in constant pain. or so he said. that's why he had so many prescriptions from as many doctors. he said no doctor would dare touch his botched hernia, they could only control the pain and secretly i hoped it stayed that way.

who are you?

i'm odette, she said and offered me a firm handshake.

are you Zapper's girlfriend?

she tilted her head. what do you think?

well, what then? i'm just curious.

a friend. i'm staying here while Zapper's away. don't worry, i can help you, i know what you need.

i forced a little laugh. need? i don't know if i need it, want, yeah but...

honey, please.

exactly.

she knew my special prices and i wondered what else Zapper had said about me but then wondered why i cared, i mean i was here right? i watched her count pills with lovely, long tapered fingers.

when our business was complete i could tell she was in no rush to see me leave.

have you ever shot it? she picked up a syringe, everything was prepared. it's my treat.

it was in front of me, that thing you said you'd never do. after about 5 seconds of going back and forth- do it don't do it- i decided to think of it as an oppurtunity to try something new but never, ever again. right?

i didn't want to bring up the awkward needle thing when she assured me i just unwrapped it, don't worry, no sharing. she tied me off with a belt and the very second the needle punctured my skin it felt as though God touched me. like being kicked by the unicorn of love and swirling into a rainbow of ecstasy. better.

i started nodding almost immediately, we both did.

i was on a wooded trail, floating towards the sunlight, everything was so exquisitely peaceful. i know why people never come back, just keep going down that trail. God, it was good, it was never again it was perfect. perfect never again. i'm falling, for a split second unsure what plane i'm on. everything beneath me collapses. my head jolts.

odette opens her eyes. i love that she says.

yes, i agree and she kisses me on the lips.

oh no, i said pulling my head away, i'm not a lesbian.

i'm not a lesbian.

then why the kiss?

i'm high and i never kissed a movie star before.

you think i'm a movie star?

you been in movies haven't you? closest i ever got.

my arm went round her and our lips met once more.

sparkle shirley, sparkle. my mother used to say that to heather, literally, a sort of half joke, half threat. it's hard for me to remember heather, when i was a kid she was already a star, most of her time was spent at the studio.

for 8 years heather played the titular character on a show called marisol about an american girl whose mother marries the king of a made up country in europe making marisol a princess by default.

the show was a huge success but finally cancelled when marisol went off to college. the image of her waving from the back of a limo remains iconic for a generation of girls who grew up with her, a young woman off to make her way in the world.

just like heather tried to do. when marisol ended, the Studio decided it was time to take the next step in heather's grooming. after years of playing the most wholesome character on tv she was cast in a teen sex comedy replete with a topless scene and typical gross out sexual situations.

heather said no, she wanted to go to new york and study acting, God bless her, she wanted to be a real actress, on the stage even! and she did, despite Mom's pleas she left and got her own apartment on the other side of the country.

the Studio was unhappy. heather had been their star. they were making veiled threats about kory and me and let's face it, kory's career started drying up the day he hit puberty. he went from being a cute little fugmuppet to the tall, gangly thing he is today.

but there was me, i was doing the 2 amys but that was chicken feed compared to the investment the Studio had made in heather and that's where all the conspiracy theories started.

for every website dedicated to her memory and there were many, there were the vigilant citizen articles and many like it that said heather had been murdered, sacrificed as it were and many implied or said straight out that Mom let it happen. she knew. so i would have a job.

despite what i say to kory, i never did under why heather would commit suicide, she was finally free.

one time, early in the morning, i was going to the bathroom. her door was open and i heard her crying. when she saw me she called me in. i was scared, it was like entering a sick girl's room, the one hidden in the attic.

get away from her as soon as you can, she said. don't let her do to you what she did to me. but by then it was already too late.

i had a 6 am call time and i was on set feeling tired and punchy from last night, not sparkling in the least.

last night i went home with 2 guys from the club, an actor and his friend. it was just rough, loveless sport fucking. I always say yes, I know I'm going to die.

with actors it's hard to tell. recently, I was very enthusastic about hooking up with this hot action star but by the third time he called me stunning I knew it wasn't going to be a go.

these 2 were questionable as well so I sat down on a banquette with the chick they'd been talking to earlier, just to see.

do you like them? they're cute.

they're okay.

are you going home with them? I was giggling, i was a bit drunk.

she looked at me like i was something stuck the bottom of her shoe.

do i look like the hooking up type? she was one of the stars of a high school/ musical tv show. through the grapevine i'd heard she had become quite the diva but i knew her from way back. seeing her at auditions as kids,when she had a fatter nose. she was friendlier then as i remember, very much the hooking up type.

there was a knock on the trailer door, 5 minutes to set. I did a thorough examination of my nostrils and finished my starbucks through a straw, it's better for the teeth. I crumpled up the muffin wrapper and after placing it beside the coffee just so, i took a snap and posted it on youdontsay.com, a website for "celebrities who want to control their image". caption: i guess someone was still hungry after all. the muffin was in the garbage.

the Oxy and the Ritalin were starting to kick in nicely as i put on my shoes and made my way to the set. i found my mark and they were on me with brushes and powders, a last minute tweak, pulling and yanking. nothing could bother me, i was sparkling.

after several changes, i decided on a navy and white dress with a sweetheart collar and a full skirt. as I was trying to channel audrey I added wingtips with my eyeliner and at the last moment clipped my hair back with a barrette. all the way to the casting agent's office I recited the lines i'd learned, changing inflection each time, i was coy, angry, naïve. I was nauseous.

the dog movie has 2 males, one older, one younger battling for the affections of the heroine. the younger male hadn't been cast but i was shocked to see the older star of the film, a mid fifties bona fide movie star with more skeletons than a graveyard was there to read with me.

we're looking at chemistry, i was informed as he leered at me.

we read 2 scenes and though i didn't see why it was necessary - we'd only just met in the script- the actor kept grabbing my ass and pulling me close. he had B.O. and i could feel his semi chub through the whole reading. that, i thought, is good chemistry.

even among this jaded bunch, their condescending questions and casual dismissals, i knew the audition went well. no standing ovation or anything but there was such a crackle in the air, something exciting had occurred.

the  cute 30ish guy with the shaggy hair was  the director, Buck Logan, the latest studio wunderkind whom i had never seen in the flesh. his first indie had been a smash and the studio was hoping to attract his hipster fans to this old fashioned romance. he smiled at me throughout the audition but said nothing very little.

when Blondine called i was digging through my purse for my door key.

you did really good, kid. I knew you could, they like you. and Buck loves you.

how do you know?

i talked to him.

already? how do you know him?

I know everybody and what's it to you anyway? he's the director and he's on your team. you should take a drive over to his place on the beach. oh boy, is it ever nice. you wanna be nice to him, he's going places that one.

I became aware of someone standing behind me. I had the key in my hand and irritated, i turned to see who was invading my space.

just a second Blondine. can i help you?

i'm here to fix your bookcase. hence the tool belt. hi Blondine, he said.

is that scott? Blondine was asking. i was going to tell you he was coming over.

are you scott? he nodded. it's scott.

not too hard on the eyes is he?

i have to go. come in. i opened the door and showed scott the bookshelf.

this is nothing, he said and set about fixing it.

would you like a coffee? I needed one.

he said he would so i went in my spooky kitchen to search for another cup which i couldn't find so i made scott one with the cup in my room and insisted i didn't want one. by the time the coffee was ready, the shelf was fixed. i pushed against it admiring his work.

that was quick.

it just needed a little adjustment.i can show you how to fix it.

no, it's ok.

I was concious of his gaze following me as I looked for my wallet.

there's no charge he said, it was nothing. I just have one favor, he said raising his phone. a pic to send to my brother back. d'ya mind? he's al big fan of yours.

he snapped a photo and after I deemed it a pass he texted it to his brother.

he is gonna freak he said. I was aware he was speaking but my gaze was on his lips, the veins on his hands, the way the tool belt sat loosely on his hips.

what is it I asked when his mouth suddenly set in a grim, straight line.

what is it? i asked.

my little brother. he needs to learn some respect.

what does he say?

he looked at me, his cheeks were flaming red.
i couldn't. it's...

tell me.

i can't, you're a lady. his adams apple bobbed as he spoke.

i tilted my head, waiting.

he handed me the phone and i read his brother's response. apparently I am the hottest piece of pussy in Hollywood.

i texted back, she says thank you and handed the phone back to scott. i'm not a lady you know, i'm a woman.

i held out my arms, he kissed me and we fell to the floor in a most passionate embrace.

a good fuck was exactly what i needed to center me. i pulled a light sundress over my bikini and called Blondine as soon as i got in the car.

I was waiting for your call. he's a hunk, eh?
who is he?

you know, like most. a wannabe movie star from kabukaville. he showed up in my office one day with big stars in his eyes and i mean the boy is gorgeous, i signed him right there. unfortunately he's fine for print but the guy's no daniel day lewis, in fact i'm not sure he can read. he does beautiful work with his hands though. he can make anything and he's a nice kid. did you fuck him?

of course not.

God, i would.

Buck Logan lived in one of  those Malibu houses that are often rented out for movie set exteriors. leaning over a cliff ready to tumble into the crashing surf any day, the house, a massive glass space ship, had murder mystery all over it.

as I made my way up the short, dirt road to the entrance a blonde woman passed on a bicycl. she waved at me. it was the actress, emma vandermore.

Buck answered the door wearing sweat pants and flip flops. under his tank top was the typical muscled build so common in this town.

i grew up with you, he said. i used to watch you on the 2 amys when i was a kid.

really? i didn't think many boys watched the show.

probably eat more than you thought. i auditioned for Penny Arcade but i didn't get it.

lucky, i said quietly. was that emma vandermore I saw leaving?

yeah.

is she auditioning for the movie?

a flash of annoyance crossed his face and I regretted my question.

sorry, I'm so nosy, I just love her.

he relaxed again and i realized i was holding my breath. tense. i didn't want to piss him off and from experience these artistic types could be hair trigger touchy.

she was just passing by. we've been neighbours for awhile. and to your question, no. 10 years ago, yeah, she would have been perfect but now she's doing her district attorney stuff. she's dying to do a monster, you know, play ugly. do you want to play some pool? or we can take a swim? we don't have to, we can just sit out there.

well, i did bring my bathing suit, i said coyly. i opened up the top of my sun dress to give him a flash.

he poured us a couple cans of Rockstars over ice and we went to the pool. i stripped to my bikini but he stayed in his sweats.

i saw emma in that horror movie, the necklace. God, it was so scary, she was great.

she's a fine actress, a rare find.

I sipped my drink and nodded, waiting for him to say I was a fine actress as well.

did you like me in the 2 amy's?

i did. a lot. what do you think it takes to be a good actress? a great one? like the one that will play Alice, the girl in this film.

i took a long pull of my Rockstar. I wanted a cigarette badly but i didn't dare. he looked so square.

well, i said finally, it takes hard work, study and determination. and talent.

he nodded. have you studied a lot?

not a lot. i mean, i've been on sets since I was a little kid. i sort of learned the old school way but i have taken some classes. for sure i have.

do you think emma is talented?

yes.

we both stared into the blue water of the swimming pool. i could see the entire sun in its reflection.

she is, he agreed. she's also fucked up and empty.

oh.

he was nodding and he leaned closer. that's right. that's why she's great. she's like a beautiful crystal vase with a hairline crack in it. a good director can mend that crack for awhile and he can use the vase, fill her up with the character he wants her to create. do you understand?

i think so, yes.

are you fucked up?

God, i wanted a smoke. a little, i said.

yeah, i think so too. i saw a crack in you at the reading. he used his finger to trace the side of my head.

thank you?

are you Alice?

oh God, weirdo. how would i know. Pay me enough, i'll be anybody you want. i'd rather have blow me okay we'll call you to this abstract shit. it seemed more honest than these head games.

she's already in my crack.

he sat back on the lounger with a little smile. he liked my answer i could tell. why don't you take a swim?

no, i'll just finish my drink.

take a swim.

i took a big drink and walked towards the pool.

do 10 lengths he said. i dived.

i was breathing heavily, exhausted when i pulled myself over the side of the pool. i'm naturally athletic but I haven't actually swam in a pool since forever. i strained the water from my hair while Buck watched me from the lounger.

do 10 pushups, he said.

i dropped and began counting.
good form, Buck cheered. now do 10 situps. the hard tiles bit into my spine, i winced but finished. i stood up, unsure what was next.
jump, he said.
how high?
he measured off about a foot and a half with his hands and i leapt. Buck motioned me to the chairs but as i was about to sit, he stood, placed his hand on the small of my back and guided me towards the house.
i didn't look at him as i slipped the sundress over my head but he studied me. looking for Alice i supposed.
he shook my hand at the door. thank you for coming by. it's been very interesting.
thank you for having me, it was my pleasure. i hope, well, you know! i laughed, high and tinny.
hey, he yelled from the door as I was getting in my car, shoot me a text sometime. say hi.
i will!
on the way home while stopped at a red light, i saw emma vandermore again on her bike. i put my cigarette in the ashtray and waved at her but she turned away. didn't see me i figured.

i was reading Blondine's text: i swear if u blow this i'll scalp u. oh shut up i thought and texted Buck: just saying hi. thanks for yesterday =) and i jumped as Wally Lifshitz arrived for lunch flushed and breathless. he yanked the chair out and sat with the grace of an anchor.
i was almost just killed in a fucking car accident he announced. turns out it was a near miss. that broad missed me by a cunt hair and lucky for her.
i murmured something like, don't even say it.
after smearing butter on a breadstick he held up the small plate. hey, this butter's cold. hard as rock. it was whisked away and quickly replaced. Wally turned his attention back to me. a fuckin' cunt hair. makes ya think doesn't it?. about the roses, you gotta stop and smell them.
absolutely.
Wally leaned towards me and took another bite of the bread stick. you smell like roses, he said.
i laughed, it was funny.
he ordered drinks and more bread and butter.
you know what wc fields said about acting with dogs?
don't do it?
yeah. i saw your reading. it was good, i can't deny it, it was real good. so, why should you get the part?
oh dear. um, well...i'm talented and...should i say fucked up? i decided to stick with talented.
Wally guffawed and bread crumbs sprayed across the table. talented. you think that's how you get the part?
not really. more trick questions.
you think Daria Tierney's talented?
she'd just won an oscar. i knew she was the Lifshitz brother's golden girl ATM. i nodded.
he leaned in closer, chewing. you know what her talent is? she can suck the chrome off a trailer hitch.
why isn't she playing the part?
she thinks she is but she's finished. she's a spoiled, rich girl with a big mouth and no brains to back it up. i can make you and i can destroy you.
i think i'd still like that part.
he laughed and the table shook as his large belly knocked against it. he wiped his hand on the tablecloth and then put it in my knee.
I like you he said, is your mother jewish?

this room smells like pussy.
the noise of the traffic on sunset floated in the open doorway with the morning sun. i stretches and sat up in the bed accepting the offered coffee. i took a sip and made a face.
this coffee tastes like pussy. where'd you get this?
from the breakfast buffet. it comes with the room.
odette was turning tricks at the days inn and texted me last night when she needed a break. she stuffed a shiny mini croissant in her mouth and a offered me a paper plate of stale looking pastries.
no thanks.
don't you ever eat?
no.
you're a stick. you got big hands like a velociraptor.
you eat pusey like a velociraptor. we laughed and i kicked her playfully. she grabbed my leg by the calf and kissed the sole of my foot.
i thought you weren't a lesbian.
i lied. you got a boyfriend?
no.
you're lying.
let's go to starbucks.
let's go to the beach.
starbucks first.
let's get fucked up first.
no need to state the obvious.
i don't hate men, you know, said odette as she collected her gear.
it doesn't matter.
she stared at herself in the mirror. it's always just a war with them. they always want something.
something? what would that be?
we looked at one another and smiled.

i used to go to the beach a lot if i thought i'd get my picture taken. on our way we were freebasing some Oxy and i told her to look in my purse and get me 3 Xannies. and we were smoking a joint so i either had that in my hand or i was driving with my elbows tring to maneuver the foil and straw. odette kept it cooking.
what advice, odette said handing me the strip of foil and saying it very slowly like she'd put much thought into her question and i should really think about my response, would you give to an aspiring singer?
i took another hit, dopamine flooded my brain and i pressed the accelerator. driving is such a pleasure when I'm high. I seem to hit every light.
go on american idol?
no really.
don't do it, i said. i handed her the foil and lighter.
odette made a face. no, really.
really.
why?
it's evil.
why do you think everything is evil?
i butted the joint and tossed the roach from the window, then used the rear view mirror to gloss my lips. because i know it is.
how do you know?
i just do.
is everything evil to you? are these sunglasses?
yes.
is show business?
I just looked at her.
will you help me?
she handed me the foil and it rattled in my quivering hands. okay.
text: u impressed wally he wants u to meet lou
i couldn't deny it. even in my opiate, pot, benzo fog i was beginning to feel excited. hopeful. later that night as i rubbed cocoa butter into my skin, i wrote a list of things I would do to get the part. ANYTHING.

i was still in bed when scott arrived and we stayed there most of the day having an easy, good time, snoozing during the interval and when i woke, the room was dim and golden, the afternoon sun peeking in the shades. scott stirred and pulled me into his arms, his tan, bare skin warm against my own. maybe this is the only way to feel truly safe and i did. at this moment, everything was going to be ok.
then scott said: i love you, i loved you the minute i saw you.
i turned onto my back and stared into his face. i could feel the hot lights on my bare skin, the camera was inches from my face. i love you too.
he fingered the ends of my hair. i grabbed his cock.
fuck me, i said. don't kiss me.

i was explaing the concept of not too long but not too short to the nail technician when i get a text from kory: i need your autograph on a fat check
me: no $$$
kory: al says you booked dog movie many $$$
alessandro peron would know. al and kory had both been child actors but after he did the Dare Ya movie and the 2 sequels, Double Dare Ya and the other one, kory had been the big success. kory is voted #1 child star of all time and heather number 2. after kory got older and especially when he got into drugs, the work started drying up but alessandro continued to work into his adult years and now he was an A list star, Scorcese's favorite actor but he always remained kory's bff.
me: ask al for $$
kory: i cant again im hurting.
i was pondering this when i got a whif of naif, my perfume, it's very distinctive, a top note of vanilla, the middle, coconut and the base is an unusual choice of anise. i oversaw everything, the scent, the bottle, everything or at least i'd said it so many times now, it seemed to be true. the salon was crowded and i'd been engrossed by the alessandro information. i sniffed the air and looked to my left. daria tierney was probably the last person i expected to be wearing naif but there she was a just few chairs away talking on the phone, gigantic sunglasses perched on her head, reeking of the stuff. she was speaking in a whisper but it was obvious she was agitated. I looked away when she glared at me but by then I'd been caught but i heard her say dog. even when she was shouting, this is not lilac! it's lavender. i want lilac, i kept my attention on candy crush but i felt a growing sense of power.
daria was still at the salon having the lavender disaster sorted when i left and i considered dropping by kory's loft but instead i scrolled through my contacts and called madame crystal. she was still pissed at me. she sent a bunch of girls to entertain these 2 rich iranian kids and i don't know what they put in my drink but i ended up hallucinating about demons and jumped off their boat.
you gonna show up this time, no freak outs? i can't trust you.
i told you, it wasn't my fault. besides i won't, i'm really together now. anything really good? like good money?
you wanna go to vegas tonight with billy loyal?
he's too crazy. he beats up the girls.
madame crystal snorted. that's why the money's so good. 5 grand, you're back sunday afternoon maybe evening. billy's driving. plus tips. he won't hurt you, you're classy. he's only like that, with, you know. you have to know how to handle him, you're a smart girl.
yolo, right? i said i would go.
billy drank from a tequila bottle and shot at road signs all the way to vegas so we didn't talk much but he let me fire off a few rounds. it was late when we arrived and the restaurant didn't hold his table so that ignited billy's first tirade of the weekned. after we were seated we were joined by his friends and his estranged wife who showed up to give me the stink eye all night. i had a coke, laughed frequently and said little. when we got back to our suite, billy's obnoxious behavior became biligerent, paranoid and insulting. everybody left and i couldn't chance billy taking a swing at me so a roofy in straight vodka and i went to bed with him hanging over the coffee table. the next morning i had my hair done, got a little botox and a massage. when i arrived back to the room billy was on the couch, drinking a beer in his underwear. i was cordial but distant and finally he said, did I do something? it's okay, i whispered. we snorted some really good coke and went shopping. blackouts can be a girl's best friend. the blow had us both chatty and i was struggling with the zipper of a dress when the dog movie came up. billy always has a good table at the vanity fair oscar party, billy knows everybody and how stupid of me to not think about it before. i stopped fumbling with the zipper.
that's all wrapped up, he said.
i think they're still casting some roles.
naw, it's al peron, that old guy, what's his face and bethanny bordin.
i kept my gaze on the mirror, cool as a cucumber. do you like this dress? yeah, he said. you should zip it up. he was texting, my heart was pounding.
are you sure?
yes, it's supposed to be zipped up.
no, about bethanny.
oh yeah, of course. i had dinner with Wally and Lou the other night. why, did you want that?
no.
it's not for you. you got that california girl thing going but that part needs some serious tits and ass and bordin's got one big, fat ass on her. he chuckled.
I could do that. I could get a big ass.
oh yeah? you're skinny. would you put on 20 pounds?
maybe.
buy some big jugs.
I might.
it's just...
I know. it's just a movie.

as soon as we returned to the room, i gave billy a blowjob but he couldn't come. i was disappointed. i didn't want him to forget me and it took my mind off the movie, ok, not really. it was a good performance and it takes my mind off the movie for a few minutes, ok, not really. afterwards I try to not mention the movie every 5 minutes but then billy gets into the vodka and the blow and the point becomes moot anyway. he only wants to play with his gun and talk about his wife.
gold digger, whore, everyone of them. pow. later that night billy get arrested. when the police arrived i locked myself in the bedroom claiming to be afraid but really it just bought me some time as I booked a ticket home on his credit card, i couldn't depend on a ride. when i slipped out discreetly, the girl with the black eye was crying to the police and billy's ex-wife was in the hallway screaming at him with 2 little girls hiding behind her robe.
I hope you're not blaming me for that, i said to madame crystal.
she counted out the cash in my hand. nah, that's a pretty regular night for billy. you can call me.
I stopped by kory's loft. he was listening to Bach, painting amy winehouse behind bars in stripes. I gave him 4 thousand.
where'd you get it?
residuals.

flew into miami and picked up my car rental. I like this city, it's so chi-chi.
i placed the plastic card against the door lock and heard the cheerful click thatgave me access to the room. i realized i'd been holding my breath. the room was a pillhead's treasure chest, there were bottles filling the dresser and the nightstand. i checked the mini fridge, there was no booze but several bottles of methadone. i also couldn't take miss of the fat stack of bills on the desk. the subject was in the california king sized bed, one juleena amber dir, former nude model and would-be actress, last year's blonde. trash that should have never been picked from the heap but i'm being mean. she was semi-concious and raised her head, squinting at me. i don't want housekeeping, she slurred.
i've come to help you. she protested as i lifted her sweaty head with a half inch of roots and going grey and turned her pillows. i plumped them and slipped one from the bed.
wait, i know you, she said. yer gonna hurt me.
you're a mess.
she started to sob. i put a kleenex to her nose. blow, i instructed and she did.
i don't want to die.
you're already dead. i slammed the pillow over her face. it was feather so she must have requested it or brought her own because hotels only offer hypoallergenic now. she thrashed about like a tuna on a line but she had no strength left in her and her once incredible body, run to fat, soon ceased to fight.
i put the pillow back under juleena's head, took a deep breath and got my bearings. i was careful not too touch anything except the cash which i slipped into the pocket of the rough poly-cotton maid's uniform I was wearing. one more deep breath, i open the door and leave pushing my cart slowly to the exit sign. in the stairwell the uniform and running shoes come off, stuffed in a plastic bag and then into my birkin that had been hidden in the cart. i flipped through the stack of cash and estimated there to be about 10,000. this would be my secret. i slip my heels on, a coat of pink lipstick, adjust my skirt and i'm off to the elevator and down to the parking lot. the running shoes and uniform get thrown in the dumpster. i pull up to the exit gate and push the attendant's button.
i lost my ticket.
a male voice crackles: what room were you in?
i'm not sure, i don't remember.
the guest's name?
i giggle. i don't know.
the gate opens and i'm zipping off to the Shore Club. I ask a bellman to point me to the lounge and when I enter i see my contact at a table in the back. when i join him i take my compact and a package from my purse. i give him the envelope, snap open the compact and fix my lipstick. Charlie says to tell you not to call, ok? i get up to leave.
hey, he says, at least have a drink with me.
i pretend to consider it, no.
you don't like me.
no i don't. bye bye. i hadn't walked 10 feet, snapping my compact closed and putting it in my bag, so not at all paying attention when i slam right into a barrel of a man's chest.
what the fuck booms the man and then he sees it's me. jesus, what a coinkidink, what are you doing here? it was Wally Lifshitz.
just stuff, i'm up to all sorts of things.
i bet you are. he chuckled. goddamn you smell good. i've got a view and a half from my room, why not come up for a drinky?
absolutely, i said taking his arm. how long have you been here?
just a couple days. r&r.
no one deserves it more than you and you're so tanned already, so handsome!
half an hour later he rolled off me. you know how to make a man cum he said.
i rolled on my stomach and looked at my nails. I could have them done and pop it on his room, that's a cosmo girl's world.
he ran a finger done my spine. i shivered. i could set you up so nicely, he said.
set me up?
yeah, why's a girl like you wanna be in this racket?
i didn't make that choice but i'm here now.
you should think about it. a beautiful girl like you should be thinking about more important things, not living this whorey life. i can give those to you.
it sounds nice but i I want the part. that's my life
til the next part. I'll tell you something, a man's life is one big cum shot. any guy who says he went into this business for the love of film is a liar or a faggot. you do it to fuck broads, broads like you. and broads like you do it to meet men like me. not for a part in a movie. that's not a woman's life. a woman is busy having babies, raising the world.
not me. I'm an actress. I want to be a star.
i know what you think you want but that's all those women get. they don't get love. look at Daria, top of the heap, most miserable bitch i know, couldn't love anyone. i don't think you're like that.
are you saying i don't have the part?
i'm not saying anything like that. just talking.
i turned on my back again and studied his eyes. i hope not.

Blondine called and suddenly she's in love with me. she wanted to have a party. she'd net all her talent and place us around the room like stuff at a yard sale then she'd haggle. also Wally's brother, Lou had scheduled a meeting and it could only mean good things. why shouldn't i have the lead in a blockbuster? why not? i'd win an Oscar. i'm not sure if i said or Blondine but she was still talking when i spied Zapper on our usual corner eating something damp and mushy from a plastic bag. they're from the doughnut shop, he explained when he got in the car, day olds, I get them for a buck. they're just as good, except the orange logs. who likes orange logs? want one?
I flicked my butt from the window and declined. you are like the worst drug dealer ever. i've been calling you forever.
yeah, i'm sorry. i was in the hospital again. remember when that puerto rican chick punched me in the head? i nodded. i still get these blinding headaches.
i lit a smoke and tried to look concerned. that's too bad. is your friend still staying with you?
my friend?
the black girl, odette.
oh yeah, yeah sometimes. you should try these, he said. i got them in jamaica. they're percs but they're 30 mg instead of 5. and less aspirin.
me: i tried them, they didn't really do anything for me.
maybe cuz you're used to the 80s
i doubt it. i didn't like discussing specifics.
do they help your pain?
my pain? what, the 80's?
there was a long silence.
do you think i'm in pain?
no. he raised the hood on his sweater.  well ...yeah.

i stopped into a drug store to buy some mascara. they were using a still of me that i did a couple years ago for L'Oreal, the contract had expired, it was faded and should be removed. I stood in front of it, took a selfie and stole the mascara. youdontsay: I know her ").

if you could do anything tonight what would it be? i was in Lou Lifshitz' Bentley. he had his hand on my thigh.
anything? i'd go to the house of blues and eat a steak.
he raised his brows. good idea. that's sounds great. i got a little place down around here. we'll go there.
from the window of his glass penthouse i could see every light in hollywood.
there's a pool on the roof. there's some bathing suits in the drawer in that room. just leave the tags on. just kidding.
i was tired, i kept sighing as i changed into a white bikini. i took 2 Xannies because sometimes they make me horny and Lou wasn't didn't inspire much passion in me. i studied myself in the massive 3-way mirror. they'd put a bit too much filler in my cheek last time, it was noticed on Gossip Rocks but i like the effect, it was wholesome. i looked good, tan, blonde, my cheeks, i love myself. i hate myself.
Lou was pouring martinis when i came back. i guess he wasn't changing into a bathing suit. he held out a glass to me. wow! somebody get me a towel before i embarrass myself.
we took a private elevator to the roof and sat by the pool, soft piped in music coming through the speakers. we had 2 martinis each while Lou complained about his wife. he took a breath and i excused myself to use the washroom.
do you really have to go?
it's not too bad. i just thought I'd freshen up.
then wait a bit. let's talk about the movie. the movie never came up and twice more Lou stopped me from going to the bathroom. i was beginning to understand the scenario as well as gathering enough information about his marriage to make a call to star weekly.
actually, Lou, i'm ready to burst.
you're gonna burst? you really gotta go? i bet you've got a full bladder, don't you?
i honestly do.
he knocked over his chair as he stood and dropped his pants then he lay down by the pool, jerking his erect cock. take off your bottoms. i stood over him and he reached up to cup me by the ass, pulling me down to his face. he opened his mouth and i peed. he swallowed it, all of it while he had a loud orgasm and then i was sitting on his chest, unsure what to say.
that was nice.

did you know you're pregnant? the doctor put my chart down, she was irritated with me.
i wasn't sure, i said, i miss a lot of periods. i thought maybe i was.
it's not birth control, you know.
my face burned with shame. the first 2 had nothing to do with me. Mom just took me to a clinic and they took them out. i had no idea when they marched me down the hallway the first time, me carrying a clipboard, in big, black sharpie it said CHECK FOR STDs.
i know, i said.
but i can't have this baby. not now, i'm sorry.

what did you want to be when you grew up? scott asked me as we stepped off the train at highland park. he needed a part and his car was in the shop.
i can drive i had offered but it was no. we can take the gold line, it'll be good for you.
i was only half paying attention to him, more irritated about being jostled as everyone tried leaving the train at once. i don't know yet, i said.
he laughed. no, come on really. i wanted to be a football player.
not an actor?
no, i never wanted to be an actor. i took up carpentry in school after i busted my knee up.
another actor with a athletic injury.
i thought you came to LA to be an actor.
i never said that. no, i'm a carpenter.
we ascended the stairs, him 2 steps ahead pulling me with him. when he looked back, smiling, the yellow sun shining in the stairwell was like a halo around his head burning away all the smelly people around us. i was angry but he didn't know that. i smiled back. he didn't need a reason to be happy, he just was. our hands slipped apart and he wrapped his around my wrist. he had large hands and i had the strongest urge to fold myself into him and hand him the keys. just everything.

what happened with scott?
aha, said Blondine, you 2 are an item.
i changed ears and lit a smoke. i didn't say that.
and i'm not stupid. you should be seen with big names now.
agents think they own you. so what happened.
he quit. picked up his headshots. done. it's no great loss to the craft but i could have sold him. word is he won't put out. i shouldn't say this over the phone but let's face it, Hollywood is run by queers and if young guys wanna make it, they gotta play the game. i hear things. i know for a fact keefe shea was a gay hooker. i met him at mert gryphon's before they fixed his teeth. now he wins oscars and for what? anyway, your boyfriend's a needle in a haystack. all the conspiracy stuff is true.
that's terrible, i said.
i know what your thinking. but hey, i was an actress. what's the big deal? daria teirney owns kneepads. the women are as queer as the men. did i tell you i balled marizzia varone?
marizzia varone was an old time movie star of great legend.
balled?
yeah, she ate my pussy.
did you like it?
yeah, it was fine. mind you, i was so fucked up, it could have been shrek between my legs. i still didn't get the part.
that's too bad, i said.
that was then, the 70s. suddenly her voice was wistful, the last of a good time.

text: daddy died today. i knew he meant it was the anniversary of daddy's death, he died of aids when i was 16 but i hadn't seen him for years anyway. there was a picture of kory and me sitting on his knee in the drawer of my nightstand in a book and i took it out to have a look as i did every year on this day. daddy was wearing a power blue jacket and he had dyed blonde hair. his nose was purple, a mass of veins just congealed into a blur. he tickled for too long and he held too tight. he reeked of cough drops. I'm addicted to mentholiptus he'd say and then burst into that hysterical laughter that always seemed on the edge of madness. he left us for good to go find the his life and after he died Mom said he spent all the money, kory's millions and heather's too. it was all gone on limos and poppers and cottage rentals on fire island.
I texted back: I know
he texted me a photo of his mural. amy winehouse was complete, in her striped coveralls she looked defiant as always.
i decide to text Buck, just to say hi, i shouldn't have. but i did and i waited, made a coffee, snorted some percs. he didn't text back.
i texted Mom: daddy died today.
she texted back that she knew. after daddy died Mom tore his shabby little apartment apart like a vulture looking for any scrap but there was nothing. a few sticks of old furniture and some empty booze bottles. there was no money in the mattress.

i know it's totally weird but sometimes when I finally get a hold of Zapper i'm disappointed. now i'm compelled to go and and once again, i was waiting for him to show up. a drug dealer is the only person i'll wait for. and maybe kory. i drove around the block and decided to park in a lot and walk to the dusty corner just for something to do. it seemed to me every few moments another hollow eyed junkie would appear from the darkness surmising my business, wondering what spoils might be had. they were starting to swarm me like zombies when i saw him. he had a hole in his shoe. i walked to meet him and the zombies began to disappear.
sorry, i...
i don't have time i said. just start walking me back to my car.
so what did you want he asked.
everything.
all of it?
yes. let's hurry.
we ducked in an empty door way and he gave me what he was willing to part with. i should have insisted he walk me to my car but i was as irritated with him as i was afraid of this neighbourhood and it wasn't long before i realized i was lost. i'd parked no more than a few minutes from the corner and yet i'd been walking some time. i wrapped the strap of my purse around my hand, holding it tightly then turned and retraced my steps. i saw the same sign again. $20 TAROT $20 Love*Health*Career. it was a clapboard sitting at the bottom of wooden stairs, the fire door was held open by a paint can filled with cement. who ever read the cards would be difficult to sneak up on because the stairs were a creak or a groan.
at the top was another heavy door, again ajar but just slightly, probably just to create a cross breeze, the air was stifling in here. i knocked lightly and peeked my head in.
there were 2 pots boiling on the stove, a large one and a smaller one. beside them a woman was standing, unraveling a wire coathanger. there was a box of mac and cheese on the shelf near the stove, newspaper covered much of the floor, there was another small stack on the table. she was middle aged with long, stringy, hippy hair, brown steaked with grey. she had on street clothes but they were covered with what looked like a blue paper dress, on backwards.
you her?
i shook my head. I saw the sign...
her lips pressed tight in annoyance. she put the hanger down and poured the pasta from the mac and cheese box into the small pot. she took a moment to stir that then took a sip of coffee and gave her dress a quick pull before she shuffled over to the table and put the pile of paper on the floor.
if it's not a good time, i'm just passing by.
you? you're just passing by? you're not. no, it's fine, sit down, 20 bucks, five minutes. she shuffled and i cut the deck and she dealt.
one by one she flipped them over and studied them sucking her teeth.
oh honey.
is it bad?
alright look, put it this way. if you take a bucket of shit and you shake it and you stir it and you wrap a bow around it, what have you got?
i shrugged.
you got a bucket of shit, honey.
i searched the cards for one that looked cheerful but they all looked scary and forboding and then her appointment arrived.
descending the angry stairs, i lit a smoke. i was ripping at my nails worrying that it would be darker and where was the car when i turned the first corner and there it was waiting, it had been right in front of me all along.
i'd given the tarot reader my last 20 so i needed an ATM. i wanted a crisp, new bill for my party of one, the best thing for opening the sinus cavity. i saw one of those free standing kiosks in the middle of a parking lot and did a quick turn in to the blare of car horns. inside the bank kiosk there was old man with a shopping cart by the window but then there always was, wasn't there? he was bent over praying. i expected a smell but not anything as horrible as the noxious, metallic fumes i was suddenly assaulted with. his stuff, I noticed was scattered everywhere. at my foot was an old sock coated in some whitish substance and i'm thinking gross, he jerks off in socks and leaves them for girls to find when it hit me. it was glue. i was about to pass out from model airplane glue. i held my breath but the odor was palpable, penetrating me, my clothes and into my skin. he wasn't praying, he was an old man, all alone, huffing glue. poor, lonely soul. when i turned to leave he finally looked up and i realized despite the gray of his beard, he wasn't that old. there was a twinkle in his rheumy eyes, was he was laughing at me? he didn't care what i thought. he didn't need my pity. he was beyond me.
are you...okay? i asked.
are you ok? he parroted back, are you ok? then louder, are you okay?! then he began to laugh, a hysterical fit. ARE YOU OK? he was roaring as i ran out the door.
ARE YOU OKAY?

Mom: do you want to host a party with brady reynolds in atlantic city?
i pushed Facetime.
kim kardashian does it and the bachelor and many others. the money is amazing and brady asked for you.
it seemed cheesey and i said so but she when told me the fee i accepted.
i'd never met brady reynolds but i knew he was a rich, all american, reality tv star. real Bel Air royalty. he could have been a movie star, he certainly had the looks and connections.
atlantic city was bleak and rainy. one of the casino managers met me at the tiny airport. we drove through the cut and paste boutique area first and then through a grimier area, all dollaramas and pay day loans. after that we hit the highway to the casino. the hotel was off the main strip but immense and very busy. people were running about, everyone anxious to check in and begin the night. the dings of the slot machines cheered me slightly. the manager showed me to my room. i was gracious about the flowers and the gifts but he could see i was anxious to be alone and let me be. the gloom had made me sleepy, i could taste it in my mouth. i was going to get high but i decided to delay it, my doctor told me that to delay things showed signs of maturity in a person but i being a spoiled child needed instant gratification hence my drug taking, shopping and sexual habits. you can't just be given everything, expect great jobs (like hosting a party in atlantic city for a bundle) to just drop in your lap. it doesn't happen. it's work, sacrifice, you have to delay.

sometimes i get the level of medication just right but it never lasts. still, as i waited for brady at the bank of elevators in the lobby, 2 burly security guards on each side, i was feeling lovely and warm. cozy. i admired myself in the mirror in my silver sequinned mini and foot high heels. brady looked scruffily delicious when he swaggered off the elevator. he nodded at the security guards then winked at me and tweaked my nipple. ready to party with the peasants? he asked.
the pool area was a massive solarium complete with palm trees and tiki huts. brady proved to be great fun, i was the straight guy to his rascal, covering my eyes, squealing and being appropriately shocked. we got hammered and played games with the crowd. despite brady spraying them with cheap bubbly and becoming surly towards the night's end the crowd was adoring because we are celebrities.
brady's room was bigger than mine and it was cold. i adjusted the heat and when I turned around he had his pants and underwear around his ankles.
why don't you suck my cock?
do you really think there's any point, i asked. he was completely flaccid.
he laughed and fell back on the bed. get me that would you, he said pointing to a shaving kit in his opened suitcase.
pull your pants up i say as i retrieve the case.
ok, ok he says and fumbles with his pants, getting his shorts twisted. it took some time but when he spilled the contents of the shaving kit, i actually gasped.
my eyes roamed across the items on the bed, everything packaged neatly. what don't you have? i really and truly gasped.
i got everything here for a nice weekend. i just don't do needles. he winked at me.
oh, me neither i said wondering why he said that.
i don't recall being so high since that day with odette. we spent most of the night talking, mostly about brady's family, the absent father, the evil step mother, the trials and tribulations of being loaded in LA and getting paid 20 grand to spray booze on people. at one point brady cried, i think we both did.

i opened my eyes and the room was a breathing, pulsing entity. my scalp was soaked. i staggered around looking for water and then finally drank several handfuls from the tap. i sat on the edge of the bed beside a deeply unconcious brady. the night seemed so long ago. after several tries at fastening my shoe, i carried them to the door. as i was opening it i remembered my key was on the nightstand and i raised my eyes to the sky to say a thanks. i doubt godzilla would awaken brady and it would have been inconvenient. i went back to grab it and don't ask me why, it was one of those silly things you do, i took brady's shaving kit. i found my way back to my room and after i did a couple lines of coke i decided that I wasn't ready for bed after all. i opened the complimentary bottle of rose in the fridge and it sprayed everywhere. from the corner of my eye i watched in the mirror as i guzzled the whole bottle then i remember no more.
i woke up with the a hangover of monumental proportions and the most incredible sense of urgency. i picked up the phone and before i spoke the girl on the other end said she was delighted to talk to me.
could i order some water and some red bull and can i get a late checkout please?
i was informed i had the room until 4 anyway. when the waiter knocked i told him to leave the drinks at the door and add 20%. i had no strength but finally i dragged myself to the door, the carpet was damp where i spilled the wine. my swollen, furry tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth so i cracked the red bull and took a long slug of the medicinal tasting liquid. brady's shaving kit. my heart kind of stopped. i found it on the floor and rooted through it looking for secret compartments. i stuck my tongue in a couple glassine baggies to lick out the dust but it was all gone, all that what left was viagara. i hoped he wouldn't be mad. i shouldn't have taken it.
i tried to make coffee in the small brewer but the process was too confusing and i gave up. my head was Satan's skating rink and there was only one thing that really would tame this monster. a drink. it was okay to drink champagne in the morning and i thought about ordering more but it was all too depressing, sitting alone in atlantic city in my room drinking cheap sparkling wine. I brushed my hair and put the silver dress and shoes on. it wasn't day wear but I couldn't bear to make any decisions and it was there on the floor. when I stepped off the elevator i remembered there was a dim bar across from the pool. i walked towards the grand red carpeted staircase. the front desk people were staring at me and i tried to strut like i had an important purpose.
hey! i turned around. it was brady coming off the elevator. his tshirt was dirty and he was wearing no shoes.
oh hi.
where's my stuff, cunt?
what stuff?
he grabbed my arm and shook me. i cried out. where is it? i pulled away and that's when brady punched me right in the face. i almost fell over and there was a collective gasp. brady looked as shocked as i felt and i gave him a hard shove. he tripped and for what seemed an eternity, fell down the red staircase. the mayhem began and i ran to the elevator and back to my room. shortly after security was a knocking on the door. i'm alright i insisted. please just give me a minute. i'll come down. i don't want you to wait. these were desperate times and i decided to abandon the few things i'd brought with me. i could send for it later. i threw a robe over my silver dress and put a towel round my head like I was going into the sauna. minutes later i was standing at the main entrance asking for a cab, bathrobe and Lounoutins. i have an appointment at the spa in the bellagio i told the doorman. 2 policeman walked right by me. i felt quite crafty like i was in a Hitchcock film. when i got to the other hotel i rented a car and three hours later i was in manhattan.

i had a Hermes scarf in my Birkin so i tied it around my hair before I checked into the hotel in times square. sitting on the bed, i counted my Xanax and there were only 6 left. i was itchy and i kept picking at my face. i wrapped the scarf around my head again and went out. the bruise on my face was faint but my jaw pulsed with a dead ache. I bought a bottle of vodka and 2 bottes of NyQuil. i woke up on the floor, my underwear soaked from pee. i took off my wet panties and crawled in the bed not really sure if I ever wanted to wake up again. but I did and as my eyes opened I felt the first wisps of withdrawal, the little shoves before the bully really starts pounding you. my stomach flipped and flopped. it was inevitable and i was crying when i turned on the phone. Mom, Blondine, even kory. there were many caps and explanation marks. i wanted to throw it against the wall when it vibrated and the screen flashed Blondine. i sighed. oh God, i said
what in God's name happened?
nothing, it was a misunderstanding.
misunderstanding? brady reynolds is in the hospital with a broken leg. did he assault you?
is it on TMZ?
you're damn right, of course, it's everywhere, watch it. if there is a silver lining, the camera only caught brady. it looks like he hits you and then he's falling down the stairs
always look for the silver lining. my amy always said that in the 2 amys. forget it I said, it was stupid.
i'm sorry i can't just forget it. i'm furious, you have a goddamn good oppurtunity here! why are you so self-destructive? it's time to put both feet on the ground. are you listening to me?
i'm listening, i just don't care. i pushed end. wait, i do care i wanted to say but oh fuck, i didn't care, not right now. if I did, the guilt would kill me.
there was more vodka and I reached for it but changed my mind and took a healthy slug of NyQuil instead. i lit a cigarette. the room must reek of smoke and I'd be charged the service fee anyway. scott was worried out of his mind. I texted back: i miss you i'll be home soon don't believe that stuff nothing happened.
i was lonely.
i took a shower to try and get my head back on, hot, cold, hot, cold. every few minutes i'd get a harder push, a punch. as soon as i stepped out of the shower i started sweating. i put the silver dress back on. i sneezed 6 times. my nose was running.
by the time i hit the sidewalk i felt like the robaxacet doll, the pins were being pulled one by one and i was falling apart. i took the NyQuil from my bag and finished it on the sidewalk. i gagged as I threw the bottle in the trash aware that people were looking at me. i needed a diguise. i stopped in a cheap wig shop and bought the ash blonde galaxina model with a blunt fringe and sex bump. at the corner store where i stopped for cigarettes i found a pair of sunglasses that looked like 2 halves of watermelon slices. i felt safer but the it was the blue fun fur coat i spied in a shop window that completed my costume. the man inside pointed at his watch, gesturing it was closing time but i pouted and showed him my credit card. when he read my name, he unbolted the door. 20% off.
my pounding head was on full amber alert and it was getting more difficult to walk, like i has no balance and would fall over any moment. my i popped my last 2 Xannies then stopped 3 young women in evening wear and asked them where to go. they were already tipsy and much to my chagrin, became hysterical when they realized who i was. i declined their invitation to join them, this wolf was on a mission and they didn't strike me as the sort of partners i may need. despite my pain, i posed for several selfies and went on my way. i found a dim bar and had 3 shots then made my way to one of the clubs the girls had suggested where I told the bouncer who i was and cut the line. the club was jammed, i could smell what i wanted but where to begin? 2 young, black men leaning against the wall nodded at me so i raised my sunglasses and smiled. they motioned to the bar and i joined them where we had a drink. it was hard to talk and after my glass was empty one of them asked me to dance.
i don't want to dance. i want to get high.
he had a great smile. i like your honesty he yelled.
i never lie, i said. i don't, do i?
he pulled me closer. you wanna smoke some rock with us?
can we go now?
in the room, jaden and lashawn ordered a bottle of hennessey. I took 2 hits from the pipe and the night turned into a film with too many splices and jump cuts. we smoked continuously, the explosive euphoria was like a shadow, i had it in my full grip and then it slipped away leaving me needing more. i took off my dress but kept on my wig, the men were bare chested and we took selfies on my phone. i tore the sheets off the bed and danced on the bare mattress, then i was rolling around with jaden. it was good clean fun on crack. make sure the blinds are closed i kept repeating though we were on the 18th floor. lashawn went into the bathroom and after a beat i followed. he was unzipping his pants and I put my hand on his crotch. you don't have anything else do you? downers? or pain killers? naw he said and gently pushed my hand away. we don't deal in pills. or girls. what a shame. he left the washroom and i sat down to pee. the floor jumped up at me, i felt sketchy and nauseous. my skin was felt like sand paper. i rubbed some moisturizer on my face and neck. i looked ugly. i brushed some blush on to my cheeks and then some violet shadow on my lids, a lot of it. my lips were ravenous red. suddenly i was angry, i crushed the tube of lipstick into the mirror then slammed open the bathroom door. jaden and lashawn had set the trash can on fire using kleenex and notepads. as they danced round it their images rippled through the black smoke as bits of charred paper floated about. the phone was ringing, there was a very insistent knock at the door, it opened and several men entered. i was screaming.

there was a light tapping at the door but with a ring and it jarred me awake. omg this was beginning to feel like groundhog day. i was still wearing my silver dress, there were sequins on the sheets. i peeked over the covers, i couldn't see any of my stuff, everything was neat and tidy. this was not my room. another tap. fuck. with shaking legs I pulled myself from the bed. i caught myself in the mirror and i cried out. i was made up like a blind whore. i leaned against the door. who is it?
he kept using my name. everything is fine, it's just dickie mctiernan. i'm today's duty manager and well i was last night as well. pretty tired today he chuckled, let me tell you. can you give me a minute?
i ruined 2 facecloths scrubbing the makeup from my face, i felt like such shit i was almost happy because this cannot get worse, i had nothing to lose. it was the silver lining. with that thought fortifying me i opened the door. right away i knew he was a fan, a gay one, the most loyal of them all. beside him was a cart of food, enough for several people.
first of all and most importantly he said, how are you?
I'm ok, thank you. you?
I want you to know that we at the hotel are the soul of discretion. what happened last night will never leave the walls of this building.
that's very nice, i appreciate it. what happened?
the 2 men you were with...
what?
did they hurt you?
no, why?
we couldn't be sure, you were a little upset so you weren't very coherent i'm afraid.
they didn't hurt me. did the police take them?
i'm sure everything was fine.
i should call...
i'm sure it's fine, he said, most likely they didn't. he was quite firm on the issue. you need to be worrying about you. i brought you some breakfast, I didn't know what you'd like so I took a bit of everything. maybe you're a vegetarian or on atkins, i don't know.
that's thoughtful of you. I tried not to look at it. where are my things?
they're in your old room. it smelled of the smoke from the fire so we brought you here. i'll have everything brought over now. I don't know if you want your makeup, it kind of got spilled everywhere.
i do.
he beamed. then it's done. whatever you need. you know, he said, suddenly conspiratal, i'm your #1 fan.
thank you, that's very nice. i should call though, they didn't do anything. and my things, i could just go get them.
well, they did almost set fire to the building but no harm done. all your things will be here in 5 minutes. enjoy your breakfast and don't worry about anything.dickie made deep eye contact, let us know if you'll be leaving today and if there's anything, anything i can do for you.
i had nothing to lose.
i'm in a lot of pain right now. what i really need is something for that. do you were know where i could get a pain killer, something strong?
he thought a moment then said, i have an almost full bottle of vicodin downstairs in my locker. i got them a few months ago when i had my wisdom teeth out. it was so painful but i took some and i felt so weird, like i was completely outside myself. would those help? they might not do that to you.
i ran my hand through my dirty hair. i nodded slowly. yeah, those would help.
i'll go get them. anything else?
i can pay you for them.
he held up his palms. no, no, no. i don't want them and i'm glad to help.
great, i said. i started to close the door and dickie said, oops, you're breakfast. oh right. I pulled the cart inside and waved. see you soon!
i closed the door, fell on my knees and wept.

it was a astride a giant marshmallow that i entered jfk. i had very little time  to finish the bottle of pills that dickie had so kindly offered but i managed to snort most of them and the rest i chewed up with my starbucks. i should youdontsay that one, vicodin and starbucks: brekky!, no, breakfast of the gods, no that was too elitist, breakfast of champions! i'd get it.
the tiny filipina who cleaned my room kept checking me out periphally as i snorted as i crushed and snorted tablets at the desk. it felt invasive but time was short and i was so high i didn't care enough to send her away. i assured her that this is how my doctor prescribed my medication. nasally. i gave her the galaxina wig and thrilled, she put it on right there.
dickie had arranged everything, the flight and the ride to the airport. we took selfies in the hotel lobby, i was looped. i told him to visit me in LA. i want to be your assistant. i bet we could have a reality show. i have no doubt, i said, i'll talk to my agent. really, said dickie, talk to your agent? that's so glamorous. he was still shrieking when i closed the taxi door and trilled my fingers through the window. i took off the sunglasses to check my appearance in my compact mirror. one of my eyes drooped suspiciously, i was pinned and i put the sunglasses back on immediately.
Blondine texted: come home all is forgiven. as if it were her decision. i hate Blondine but she can put a spin on anything and i guessed my career wasn't in tatters after all. i was smiling as i strolled towards the gate, the watermelon sunglasses hiding my sins and good thing too because someone had called the paps, probably Mom, we'd talked for half an hour today. i was agreeable with her because when you take enough hydrocodone, it has that effect. no, this wasn't the life i wanted and look at my brother. she went on and on. yet she fed on it, i knew that. did you have fun at least?, she wanted to know.
oh yeah, a ball.
i was swarmed. are you and brady in a relationship?
of course not. brady is like my brother.
did he hit you? he punched you!
he didn't punch me! we were playing around, he pinched my cheek and, then, well you know, he fell. it was just horseplay. brady should be a stuntman. he's super flexible. usually. everyone knows that. oh Lord, i was chatty and they followed after me like i was the pied piper.
will charges be laid?
no! i pulled my blue fun fur tighter, underneath, my silver dress had a ripe, earthy smell i rather liked. i walked faster. why would there be? i respect the people of atlantic city and i know they'll do the right thing. and the mayor and the entire american government. it was an unfortunate accident. just ask brady.

the video of my scrap with brady was very underwhelming, so grainy we could have been anyone but it was the airport pictures posted on Gossip Rocks the following morning that did me in. wafer eat a cheeseburger. i couldn't deny it, i looked like i had bulimia jaw. judgement was also passed on my coat, my sunglasses and my shabby chic hair and on all counts, i came up sadly wanting. and my cheeks were mentioned. wafer the starving chipmunk they called me. i decided not to talk to my therapist about it. she says i have narcississtic tendancies.
how have you been feeling? somebody had made a pile with the books on the coffee table and I lay them out side by side.
ok, I mean I think i'm fine. i'm busy. the pills help if i'm not. fine. not fine.
what do the pills do?
they make me happy.
but only for a moment.
what is life but a series of moments? i want as many happy ones as i can get. however i can get them.
are you happy when you take them, really? or are you medicated?
you are the one that's prescribing them to me, right?
i'm only saying that the issue goes deeper than...
i know what you're saying.
i'm going to increase the dosage of the Xanax. it will help with your aggression. she scribbled on her pad and as always my mind raced, since you have that pad and paper in your hand. she said, i cannot prescribe painkillers. you are not in pain.
that's debatable. i didn't ask you to.
that's good. what are you feeling right now?
that you're irriatating.
remember when we talked about the difference between thoughts and feelings. is that a thought or a feeling?
both.

i got a text inviting me to a pool party that had already started. there weren't enough girls which put me on the seat filler list, i used to get those texts days ahead. if i thought I might be pleasantly surprised, i was not, it was definitely young hollywood, popstars and starlets, they were all there and like me, many of them had started at Penny Arcade. the ruckus was juvenile and i felt completely out of place although it was only a few years ago I was acting this way myself, everything was just beginning then, there was lots of time for fun. now i thought they were all spoiled and ridiculous. i was jealous.
allesandro was there chasing the young girls. he seemed embarassed to see me which made me feel more awkward. i was just kory's sister and he was looking at me like he'd run into his mother.
hey you, beat anybody up lately? it was meant to be a joke i know but the rest of the conversation was stilted until he told me he was going to be announced as the younger love interest in the dog movie. just like that, it was so easy for him, he could have anything he wanted. wow, great i said. he knew what i wanted to hear and so he said that even though officially it was between me and bethanny bordin, no worries, it was mine. my audition was so good it would be in the extras features. alessandro's the kind of person that tells you what you want to hear, always has been. it was depressing, was everyone so untrue? he probably just wanted me to go away. i comforted myself, he would know. we'll be kissing, he said and finished his beer.
some of the girls have stripped to their panties and paraded themselves around the deck the pool. wouldn't i look so desperate if i did the same? they were coaxing alessandro into the water and naturally he said yes. everyone cheered as he lumbered out of his clothes and staggered to the pool in his boxers. he's not much to look at really, cute face, very round which renders him perpetually boyish but he never worked out. still he is what he is and everyone adores him. he's a movie star. i had a drink and then like a mother hen i gathered up alessandro's clothes and placed them on a deck chair lest they get wet. his keys jangled in the pocket and so i took them out and put them in my purse.
as i was making an exit, i saw the valium sisters lounging under an umbrella feeding each other potato chips. i don't know why people call them that, they sell everything. they're also known as the diazepam sisters. they're 2 young dykes who work together on a popular tv show about rich kids in southern california. one of them is really pretty and sweet looking but the other one looks haggard and bloated. her skin is a mess. i could see even under a thick layer of foundation. her voice is already whiskey . she asks me what i want and valium, of course. she can't be 21 and she was a beauty, a fashionista. Now she tugged at her clothes to cover the rolls.
what? she catches me staring.
nothing. just thinking. how's the show?
i quit, she says.
you got fired, says the other.
fuck off, says rough and she laughs like she doesn't care, tough but i know that look in the eyes. i'd seen it before. terror. she flicked the long ash off her cigarette.
i got too many movie offers. i'm up for that dog movie.
that's great, i said.
that great, her voice was high and girlish, mocking me. did you want something else or are you ready to go now?

it's very early morning when i drive high into the hills. i park the car and then throw alessandro's keys out the window on the grass. i light a cigarette and start crying. there's so much shit inside me and yet i feel so empty. i'm suddenly filled with remorse about the surfing movie. it was handed to me on a silver platter and i fucked it up. it was that long, lonely junket they sent me on. i do think all the gossip about everything that happened was exaggerated, i just remember crying myself to sleep every night. They hadn't been happy with me but now i had a second chance. this was my destiny and it was sealed with my first pampers commercial. it's painful to want something so badly. i chew up 2 40's and i clap my hands. abaracadabara! the part is mine. isn't that what they say to do in the secret? tears stream down my face and i think of all the other girls down there among those lights who might be doing the same thing i am. wanting this. maybe even bethanny.  i want it more.

Gossip Rocks says alessandro peron lost his car keys last night, scott said before putting down my laptop and going to the bedroom to make coffee. he'd brought his own cup.
poor al, i said. there were more than a dozen photos in Gossip Rocks of alessandro standing outside a house in Malibu, holding his shoes waiting for his keys to be replaced which towards the end of the photos, they are. there was nothing about me.
scott handed me the coffee and sat beside me on the couch. he never put enough sugar. i have something for you he said. he took my wrist and attached a silver bracelet around it.
I threw my arms round him and kissed him. a charm bracelet, i always wanted one. what are they? wait, this is a bird.
yes, this is a bird and this is an iron because you said you always pick the iron when you play monopoly.
i said i never pick the iron, i never pick it, i always pick the horse. who would pick the iron?
do you like it? if you let me, i'll fill this whole bracelet with charms.
my phone rang. it was That ring. i have to take this. i took the call in the bathroom, twice i opened the door to see if scott was eavesdropping. i listened to the instructions, i said i understood then i disconnected and took 17 selfies. scott was waiting on the couch scrolling through Gossip Rocks on my laptop. i didn't care for that but said nothing. i have to go out soon, i said, you'll have to leave.
i just got here. i thought we were spending the day together.
i'm sorry, we cant.
i don't understand you, he said. who was on the phone? why are you suddenly so cold?
just work.
one minute we're having fun and the next minute you kick me out. and then you just disappear. he placed his hand on my shoulder, i pulled away. you'll have to go now.
the resaurant was new so it was a large crowd for mid-week and i tablehopped for what i thought was an acceptable amount of time. i made a point of being funny and charming because just in case it's always best to be remembered as being in good spirits.
thankfully charisima was the type of woman that went to the washroom by herself. i guess at her age she had to buy her own drugs so she had to be frugal. she'd been around as long as I can remember, she was a big deal in the 90s. you'd forget about her and then she'd pop up in something again, her eyes pulled just a little tighter. I noticed she'd gone heavy on the juvaderm, her face was kind of a blur. frankly, looking as she did, i was surprised she could get any work at all but she was in the middle of a film right now and was having an affair with the director. his wife and collaborator was very upset, the whole shoot had turned toxic. whereever charisima went, drama had to follow, it validated her. you know the type.
i slipped into the bathroom and bolted the door . i was informed there would be a 2x4 in a cupboard beneath the sink. there was and i removed it. i could hear charisima doing lines in the stall then she flushed the toilet. she jumped when she saw me, then her face twisted. fuck creepy, you scared me. what the fuck do you want?
i came at her.
back off, she yelled.
I raised the board and gave it to her hard across the thighs. she grunted and collapsed to her knees. stay away from christian rodriquez, i said. that's a whore's punishment from his wife.
her head was shaking and she still couldn't stand. you are so fucking dead.
what, i said, what did you say? i raised the board again. she screamed. i heard her nose crunch and the floor sprayed with blood.
i was feeling good on the drive home. i turned britney all the way up, she was in love with a criminal. Charlie called. you fucked up her face. she's in the middle of a fucking shoot.
who's face?
don't get sloppy. you know what happens. he'd already hung up by then so i wasn't officially talking on the phone while i was driving when i clipped the cop's car.
when i did stop because they insisted, they asked me if i'd been drinking and then after some debate i said basically i can do whatever i want and i ended up in jail, another mugshot for the annals of Gossip Rocks. wafer was developing street cred.
it was almost sunrise when Charlie bailed me out and as we walked down the station steps, i rested my head on his shoulder. take me home, i whispered.
you're not going home, you're going somewhere to rest.
where?
the Montauk Wellness Centre, you've been there before, do you remember?
my body jolted. i'm fine, i just need to get to work. i need to work.
no, he said, you'll rest.
we got in his car and as i was strapped in i began crying. i don't want to go. i made a feeble attempt at escape and he slapped my face. freeze.
it'll be better, Charlie said, it's time..
a statement was released the following day. i had been admitted to a treatment centre for emotional issues not related to drugs or alcohol. lol. I know right?

at the Montauk you get clean. it's never dark at the Montauk, the lights are always on, blaring, blinding lights. that is unless it's pitch dark, black as can be and very cold but mostly it's light. there's a lot of pain involved in getting clean. it's a tired like you've never known, if only you could sleep but you sweat, every tendon in your body pulled so tight it's agony. your body convulses, you vomit. it feels like you're being punched over and over only i was. and slapped, prodded, degraded, invaded by people that tell me they love me. it's strange, we can bear so much more than we imagine and when we can't anymore, the mind has all sorts of dark cubbyholes to hide in. they could kill me but i was still useful so i hid in the happy corners of my mind and waited, while elsewhere, my body paid the price. then there's acceptance. the day i was to leave i had tea with the nice lady doctor in her office. she declared me to be happy and healthy. i told her i felt much better. it had gone by in a flash. they'd given me some lovely clothes to wear and patiently i waited for Charlie to come and take me home. he walked me to the parking lot and i was pleased to see my car was waiting for me.
your purse is in the car, he said.
on the hood of the car sat a butterfly. one of those orange and black ones, very majestic.
are you following me? i asked.
it opened its wings, but slowly, on its own time and flew away.
there were cigarettes and 4 large bottles of pills in my purse. my hands shook as i read the labels. my medication. by the time i hit the freeway, i was flying too.

when kory called he didn't ask me where I'd been. hang on, i said, i'm putting you on speaker, i need to make coffee.
i'm moving in with Mom for awhile, he said.
i put 2 heaping spoonfuls of coffee in the cup. it was muddy and bitter, suddenly everything was. i tried to sound casual. do you think it's a good idea? i wasn't successful because he became defensive. i thought you'd be glad.
i am. i mean if it's what you want.
it's cool. im on suboxone now. it's the shit. I mean it's not the shit but it's the shit. i haven't used in 2 weeks. i gotta start letting some things go, it's time to heal. Mom's on my side, i know that now.
i wondered who he'd been talking to, this wasn't his usual rhetoric.
what could i say, i wanted a normal family like everyone else. what could i tell him? that all the stories he told, sleeping in Mom's bed and then he started lighting fires and the 2 hour beatings for peeing on the toilet seat, they weren't just in his head. and heather. she nagged him to get sober and she'd have him back on the stuff in 2 weeks tops. he wasn't easy to control when he was sober. for that she needed him fucked up, confused, in pain. so she could save him again.
what do you mean?
i don't know what i'm talking about. i just mean Mom's drinking and stuff. listen, i just want you to be happy.
text: good morning
u can come over I texted back but nor 4 long be ready.
scott arrived shortly after and we had a quick fuck on the couch. since I was released from Montauk, scott treated me like i was made of porcelain.
hold me tighter i said, you can't hurt me.
he left with minimal fuss and i showered. my stomach was nervous but i would show Them i still had it, i'm still here. emma vandermore's new drama was a big deal gala opening.
my mind was far away as i posed on the carpet, i wasn't looking the right way, over here and the paps became frustrated with me. the crowd befitted an A-list event and emma vandermore looked perfect and remote. Buck's arm was around her waist and he gave me a thumbs up. maybe he didn't get my texts, i thought, maybe i had the wrong number!
there was a commotion on the carpet, an actual roar. i followed the crowd to see what the clamor was about. odette had arrived wearing a transparent gown, only a tiny thong keeping her from complete display. a see through dress, it had happened. her afro was gone replaced with a long, honey blonde weave. her boobs were bigger and her waist was smaller. her ridiculous ass had doubled in size and she worked it well as the group of large men surroundng her followed her like a school of fish. she held a cool smile, basking in the glow of attention until she saw me. i should have just turned away, i was busy but our eyes met and she pulled up her dress and walked toward me quickly as she could. one of the large men touched her arm and she flicked it away.
hi i said.
you didn't tell me, she said grabbing my arm.
don't, i said and pulled myself from her grip. yes, i did.
how would I know?
i did. you should have listened closer. my phone chimed.
stay with me, she said.
i'm sorry, i can't i have to go.
one of the men stuck a finger in odette's back. laugh, he said and she laughed, joyful, delirious, an insane kind of laugh.
text: have you seen hector?
i texted back: yes just now. he'd just entered and i watched him holding court across the room as men like hector debrizzi do. he was tres important and when he walked the crowd parted. he was married to his high school sweetheart but he was a renowned cocksman and like many men who are plain in youth, he had come into his own in his 50's. we'd met before. he was the man i met the day i auditioned for Penny Arcade, he had more hair then. he told Mom to leave us alone to see how i was with strangers then he told me to sit on his lap and pretend i was riding a horse, to bounce, bounce harder. he was holding me very tightly and i told him i wanted to stop but he said we had to finish, i had to save the town. can you ride fast enough to save the town? up and down. when the audition was over we were informed to come back at 3. i told Mom what happened. i don't want to go back. she slapped me across the face. you quit you're goddamned lying. i cried, i said i wasn't lying. she dumped me in the parking lot of a strip mall and for an hour i sat by the soda machine as people came in and out of the tanning salon. when she came back she asked me if i was ready to behave and i said i was.
she bought me a c-plus from the machine and got herself a coke and we went back to hector's office and i got the job. i was the best bouncer. he probably wouldn't remember me, he'd met many little girls.
text: he's the one.
it didn't take me long to get his attention. i smiled, flipped my hair and stuck my tits out.
i hate my seat i told him.
why don't you sit with me?
as i suspected he kept a hotel room and we could go right up from the parking garage.
perfect, i said.
the person who started the rumor about hector's lovemaking technique must have been hector himself because he was clumsy and juvenile having none of the skill of an experienced pussy hound. i'd met these men, you could hate them but there was no denying what they could awaken in a woman. hector kept his socks on.
i was massaging his back, kneading his shoulders and he gave small grunts of appreciation. have you ever had a prostate massage? wide eyed, he told me had passed up the oppurtunity in thailand where he had gone backpacking after college. his friend's had raved about it and it was always a regret.
i was very excited and it took some effort to control my breathing but he would've mistaken it for lust anyway. let me just get some equipment, i said. just close your eyes.
equipment? you carry it with you?
ssh. i slipped the chicken wire with 2 velvet handles from the small pocket in my bag. the garrotte, efficient but not too quick. very painful. now, raise your head.
my head, why?
hector let out a raspy, guttural roar. he fought me hard but i buried my knees against him, pinning his arms to the bed. i rode him, i rode hector like a horse, like i had to save the town. he was gasping and crying and i yanked harder. i was salivating. hid blood was spurting. my cunt was soaking.
after a formidable battle, hector went slack. i remained astride him as i caught my breath. i wiped my hands on the sheet and took my phone from my bag. its done.
i took a whore's bath and washed the blood from the garrotte. before leaving, i glances at hector's body once more. his eyes bulged, terrified. it made me smile.

text: im at the bw pool. come oui oui?
i hear from jaycee about once a year and it's usually something random like meeting her at the beverly wilshire pool. i swung the car around because i had nothing to do and Lou Lifshitz' white bikini was in the back seat.
omg you look amazing and she does. jaycee and i have been frenimies since we did the 2 amys together when we were 11. we both auditioned the same day and much to my surprise, i got the lead, not something jaycee forgets. she was my zany sidekick then and to a much lesser degree is still today. jaycee is batshit crazy. on live tv, she claimed she was molested several times when we were at Penny Arcade then took it all back after she had a nervous breakdown and did a stint in the Montauk. she lives on the edge of bankruptcy, she's attempted suicide many times. last year she wrote a book about her most recent rehab experience and getting back to her happy place. i think, i never read it. doubt she did either. she's drunk.
when did you get the boob job i asked.
6 months or more now. i never see you. she thrust them out in a seductive way. you like?
very natural.
they're silicone. nothing but the best. i got them done in switzerland. wiley bought them for me.
wiley?
wiley mcfadden, my new daddy.
the rock star? God, he's like...
a hundred? I know. at least. i said daddy, grandaddy i suppose. you should see this guy's ass, seriously, droopy doesn't cover it. and his boobs are bigger than mine, even now. i never want to get old. you should get some, you need them.
you're drunk and you're already being mean.
they might get you that part you want so bad.
now she had my attention. how do you know that?
jaycee peered mysteriously over the rim of her tom collins. hollywood is a much different place when you're just a fly on the wall. do you know my agent told me I was uninsurable, I can't get any work. but i travel in the right circles. i hear everything. if jackie collins only knew.
what have you heard?
about that movie, not much but i do hear your name whenever it's talked about. i always say something like she's good or something like that although nobody's listening. i always try. is that cindy payne? omg, look at her, she looks about 30. jaycee googled cindy on her phone. imdb says she's 45 so she must be 50.
looking at cindy i said i doubt it. not everyone lies about their age. jaycee looked at me I was a rotten turnip.
how old are you on imdb?
she googled me. omg you are. how old are you now?
26. why, what age are you on there?
23.
how old are you? jaycee was a few months older than me.
23. jaycee knocked back her collins and shook the empty glass at the passing waiter. cindy's into all sorts of weird stuff. sacrifices and shit.
i hear her place is like a fortress, i said.
yeah, to hide the altar where she worships the devil. jaycee is speaking very loudly. don't look, she'll come over.
shut up. she won't come over here. but just as i said it, cindy spies us watching her and waves.
oh fuck, says jaycee, i'm passing out now.
cindy saunters over with her diet coke. am i barging in?
no, it's fine, she's sleeping.
she sat in the lounge chair beside me and suddenly, shimmering cindy is shy and awkward. we just sit there sipping our drinks and watch the people swimming.
text: I'm thinking of u <3
cindy leaned over and read my text. is that your honey?
mmhhmm.
that's mine in the pool. i see a young, muscular man playing with what I assume are her children from her last marriage. of course he's just around to fuck me, you know? he's good with the kids.
i do.
real love doesn't happen much. never happened to me and i've been married 4 times. people like us, she stretched her arms wide, we get this, the glamour. i hadn't ever planned on having any sort of existential conversation with cindy payne and i searched my thoughts for a response to what she said when she asked, do you have anything for a headache? shortly after she said, what did you give me? I feel great.
that's my headache remedy. a combination of a few things.
I must get the recipie. she grabbed my hand. i like you. i don't have any friends. do you wanna be friends?
i nodded.
tell me about you. what's new?
i told her about the dog movie because it's true, cindy looks unnatuarlly young, better than she did 15 years ago but she's too old for this part so i feel safe.
i heard about it, she says. who is it standing in your way?
bethanny bordin.
oh that.
you know her?
mmhmm. know what, i've gotta go but no worries friend. you'll be fine. here, she grabbed my phone and punched in some numbers. that's me. call me sometime. text me that recipie.
2 days later i logged onto Gossip Rocks and my stomach dropped, what I read rocked me and i knocked over my coffee. bethanny bordin had part of her nose severed in a very serious car accident.
my hands were shaking as i scrolled through my contacts looking for cindy's number. i pushed call.
hello. it was a woman with a heavy carribbean accent.
may i speak to cindy?
who is calling?
i tell her and she mumbles something to someone.
she will call you.
please, i really need to talk to her.
she will call you when she needs you.
who is this i say.
ask your mother. the phone went dead.
i used what was left in the cup of spilled coffee to swallow 3 Xanax. i was afraid suddenly and i put the covers over my head and prayed for my soul.

another day passed and the sickness in my stomach was with me constantly. where ever I went, what ever I did, the churning was there. I made lists and emptied ashtrays. I went to the store and bought coffee and tuna and put the tuna in the cupboard and the coffee in my bedroom. but it was with me. i took many pills and i smoked lots of pot. i was part of something dark, don't ask me what it was but i knew it was never going away. i felt lke I was being watched.
Wally was picking me up. i wore my hair up with a deep side part. i put on a black dress.
i've always wanted my life to be like a woody allen film, a funny one, with quirky, naïve characters and awkward conversations that end with jokes and kisses but it's never gone that way, its always been more giallo, somewhere between sordid and lurid. i prayed to woody and the phone rang. Wally was outside waiting in the car.
everything about the Lifshitz brothers screamed Hollywood excess and Wally's car was no exception, the back area like a small living room. we talked about bethanny and I shook my head and said how terrible a tragedy it was.
not so tragic for you though, is it?
i thought he was going to offer me the part but after we drove awhile and he said more than once, you really want this don't you, laughing at me and his eyes went very dark and his breathing changed, i knew he was playing with me because he could. i was becoming angry but it didn't change anything. he can do what he wants. i began to doubt that woody was with me. we did some blow then Wally put his hand between my legs and pulled his cock out. after we finished the driver dropped him home first.
do you mind fucking down, he said, no offence. he tucked what was left of the coke in my coat pocket. a little something, he said. as he was getting out, he turned and said, and dollyface, no worries, i'm gonna bring you in for another reading. any day.
i nodded. really?
he reached over and grabbed me by the cunt, by body convulsed and he laughed knowing he frightened me. you can count on it, he said.
i did none of the coke on the drive home, i didn't want the driver to think i was like that.
at home i kicked off my shoes but still in my coat, i sat on my bed finishing the coke, smoking, until the sun came up and i tried to think about exactly it was i was afraid of but i don't know, everything.

i was dreaming about Penny Arcade as i so often do. i'm lost, trying to find my way to the set but something always distracts me. there are men who give me directions but it's always wrong. finally i see my mother. she's standing in a swimming pool. help me, i cry and her look of contempt tells me how she feels about that.
i step into the pool to be near her and the water begins to swirl with snakes, huge, bloodless, more like earthworms. i scream and step out of the water which makes my mother laugh. come in, she says, just come in.
when i was very little i made a lot of movies for Penny Arcade and i loved to watch them again and again. they were family films, comedies usually involving a miscommunication that turned everything topsy turvy for 75 minutes or so but always ended with laughter, everyone was safe. i would imagine the actors were my real parents and the little girl on the screen really was me. i even loved to play on the sets, imagining this cardboard world was my bedroom, my kitchen, my home.
when the phone rang i already knew who it was. why did i answer? to get it over with i suppose.
baby, it was mom, i was right. it's just you and me now.
when?
i found him this morning. it was all those drugs he took. his heart couldn't take it. she began to sob, God knows i tried, baby, you know that, right?.
it was you.
what? she gasped. nobody could do righteous like mom and so prepared.
i have to go now.
she phoned back but i didn't answer.  i put the covers over my head and i didn't get out of bed that day.
naturally, the following morning kory's death was the top thread on Gossip Rocks. big surprise they said, well yeah.

the bed finally ejected me and i paced around naked wanting a beer when i got up but i didn't have any so i pour myself a couple fingers of vodka and then a couple more. just for the hell of it i text Buck and ask him how he's doing, my God, we're probably going to be working together. i have another drink and smoke some cigarettes, thank God i thought to buy 2 packs last night, i like when that kind of thing happens but Buck doesn't text me back and so i'm pretty drunk and hysterical when i call Blondine.
Buck never answers my texts.
who cares? relax, that bum is worried about his own job from what i hear.
you said he could help me.
he's small potatoes.
you're friends.
i can't stand him, he's a little fart.
i don't have the part.
yeah, you do. i know you do. trust me. i'm sorry about kory, i loved that kid.

at starbucks the barista asks my name. like she doesn't know. she's an actress, i can tell.  so affected. i tell her my name is gruschenka cuz i'm a bitch like that, then i spell it. starbucks is stressful, i don't like having to move around so much. here to order then to the other thing to pick it up then the other thing for the sugar. and i can't do that app stuff. whatever. i was waiting by the steaming thing, the second part when Blondine called.
i have work, work, work. i have work for you.
i'm in the line at the starbucks. i'll call you back.
no wait, who cares, it's friggin starbucks. you're supposed to talk on the phone. listen to this. she went off and there was may offers, all small roles.
what about the dog movie? when will i know? Wally said...
oh, they picked scarlet johannsen. face it, she's cornfed that one. whatever, right? it wasn't you anyway.
Gruschenka, Gruschenka. the barista was callling me. I reached out but my hand was shaking too badly, i couldn't take the coffee.
just put it down please, i said. everything was a complete thundering silence. i felt like i was on acid, like i died and i was floating around looking down at myself. i knocked over the coffee and the hot liquid spilled all over my hand. it's ok i said, i can't feel it.

sometimes i'll post a selfie on youdontsay thinking i'm pretty or dewy only to look at it later and see my drooping eye, my zonked out smile. you can delete it but it's already been captured and shared. everything is so permanent now. and there's always pictures to back it up, the cameras. you can't get away from it and that's the way They want it I guess. and you know what, who cares? you just deny and keep your head down til it blows over and it will, soon something else will happen and they'll be on to the next. maybe i'll be in the top 10 scandals of the year. maybe they'll forget me. so what. it's all shit. no one cares.
scott called a couple mornings later and this time i answered. i couldn't help but cry as i lit a smoke and plugged in the kettle.
i'm so sorry he said, i know you were very close, i can't imagine losing my brother.
i didn't get the part.
aw. I'm sorry he said and then he said some other stuff and then it's only a movie, right?
yeah I said. there were some Percocets in the candy dish, listen, I have to go.
no wait I have a surprise for you, tonight.
what? please, no surprises. what is it?
a picnic in a secret location.
it's sounds fun, not tonight, i don't think so.
i won't take no for an answer.
scott knew I'd only ever been to a picnic in the movies and you don't eat the food because usually it's not real anyway. during the summer months, after church, scott's family had a picnic in the park every sunday. he told me funny stories about his mom having to pull a biting ant off his sister's bum and dogs running off with an entire pork roll.
i ordered some things from the deli but when scott arrived he had everything ready in a real picnic basket with 2 lids. we're not going far he said. we took the elevator to the top floor. from there we took a flight of stairs to the door that lead to the roof. it was propped open with a piece of wood.
how did you mange this, i asked.
I have my vays he said like a vampire.
i surveyed the area. it's just right, i said.
the stone roof was set with some cushions and a blanket weighed down with bricks. scott had even found a fake palm tree to shade us though the sun was rapidly setting.
after we settled scott set out the food and poured some wine.
to you, he said, do you like this? i nodded but though it was an odd choice, i had expected a park. but it's just right. i could have touched the sky and the other buildings were so close, i felt very off-balance, the whole building seemed to sway. it was terrifying really. but right.
i was picking from a stem of grapes when scott said, i have a couple of surprises for you. he opened his hand.
another charm. i examined it closely.
it's a birdcage. the prettiest one I could find. it's a home for the bird on your bracelet. it's like the home i want to make for you.
i'll treasure it. i will.
but wait, i said a couple of things. there's this too and he opened a box with a diamond ring in it.
I never expected this, i said.
will you marry me? will you make me the happiest guy in the world? i love you more than anything, i do.
i always know my lines so i held out my left hand and he slipped on the ring. yes, i said.
we kissed, long and deeply. my closeup.
when we let go i went to stand. scott took my wrist, don't go away.
i gave him my most radiant smile, I'd been practicing for years. just for a minute.
i walked to the edge of the roof estimating the ledge around the perimeter to be about 4 feet.
hey you, be careful, scott said, come and finish your wine.
i listened for the sounds below but we were so high up there was almost silence, not the roof i would have imagined, the horns honking, hey you watch it! taxi! i'd hear the bustle of the city, i'd be part of it. but up here, nothing.
he loved me. we could get married. it was like a dream, it was a dream. somebody's.
i hoisted myself up to the ledge and walked towards the edge. the wind was much stronger up here and i had to steady myself. i looked back at scott and gave him the same smile i had moments ago. he was standing now, his hand was stretched out to me. he was saying something, he was afraid.
the sun was almost gone. i stared up at the sky and spread my arms, like a butterfly. i flew away.

the end