Cut to the Chase (24 page)

Finally, when her climaxing anticipation nearly drove her to throw a pillow in his direction, he said thank you and hung up.

Michele D. spoke first. “Was it a yes?”

“Not exactly.”

“What the fuck did he say?” Avalon’s head churned toward an explosion.

“He wants to meet with you first.”

She blew out a breath. “Okay.”

“He’s not available until next week, but he said to pick a day and time after that, and we’ll arrange it with his office.”

After Michele D. and Billy left, Avalon felt an unsatisfied modicum of victory. He still wanted to meet, which didn’t mean a yes but a maybe. She’d have to convince him she was stable and reliable.

She’d read the script when Billy was still in negotiations with Garrett’s production company, and the absurd thing was, the character they were considering her for was everything Garrett loathed in real life. The character was boisterous, unlawful, and incorrigible. So why was he so dogmatic about her?

She suddenly longed to see Paige. At the thought, she inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with air much fresher than the hot air Garrett spewed. Most of her thoughts, no matter how diverse or unrelated, captured her attention only briefly before falling away to what her heart wanted most. Paige was like a welcome non sequitur punching through everything else, like a siren screaming down a busy boulevard.

Today, she really wanted to see her.

*

Paige juggled two armfuls of groceries as she made her way down the path to her apartment. Up ahead, she could see a group of people and wondered what her neighbors were up to. It was too early for one of their impromptu barbeques.

“Paige!” One person suddenly turned toward her; however, she didn’t recognize him at all.

The other four men turned as well and quickly lifted cameras to their faces.

“How’s Avalon?”

“Is she still partying?”

Paige clutched the grocery bags.

“No one’s seen her out lately. Is she staying with you?”

She retreated back down the path, reaching her car and throwing the bags in before they caught up with her.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

Thankfully, Chris was home. She knocked on the door, looking over her shoulder for anyone with a camera. They’d obviously given up because no one looked her way except an old man walking his Chihuahua.

“Bearing gifts?” Chris said when she opened the door.

“Not really.” Paige pushed by her and put the bags on Chris’s counter. “The ice cream’s probably half-melted.”

“What’s going on?”

“The paparazzi were camped out at my front door. I ran away and came straight here.”

“No kidding!”

She removed the ice cream and put it in Chris’s freezer. Chris peeked into the other bag, pulled out a bunch of bananas, and helped herself.

“They said Avalon’s been missing in action and somehow figured out where I live.”

“Have you seen her?”

She told Chris about the night Avalon had showed up at her door and the ensuing conversations, but that she hadn’t talked to her since.

“What do you think’s happening with her?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Then why don’t you call her?”

“I’m going to. Today, actually. I have some news for her.”

“And that would be…?”

“It’s my little secret. For now, at least.”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with requiring a penicillin shot, does it?”

Paige slapped her arm. “No, you dirty bird.” She plucked another banana from the bunch and peeled it back. “God, I’m crazy about her.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

Paige bit into the fruit. “She was so sweet to talk to me about speaking in public. She just volunteered the help, and I could tell she didn’t want anything in return.”

“Underneath it all, Avalon’s simply a normal person who understood you and reached out to help.”

“Yeah.” Her thoughts floated toward Avalon’s arms and how wonderful they felt around her. She could still remember the velvety softness of her skin. Chris was right. Underneath it all, she was just like her.

*

The music swelled to frenetic levels, the trumpets and violins etching sharp notes of terror as a young Steve McQueen pulled his friends out of a movie theater.

When his friend asked what was going on, he told them that something inside the rock they'd found could wipe out their entire town. He'd seen it kill Dr. Hallen, which meant it could kill other people, too.

After the obligatory swell of melodramatic music, he told his friends that they had to find the thing, and with all the teenage angst that he could squeeze from his face, he vowed to make the adults believe them.

Avalon sat curled up on her couch watching the black-and-white film she’d seen at least twenty times before. She could recite almost every line of
The Blob
.

She wished Paige could be sitting here next to her. It was a film she knew as well. They’d point out gaffes together, laugh at the melodramatic acting, and kiss each other. A lot.

As the teenagers activated the town’s air-raid horn, Avalon picked up her cell phone and fingered the buttons. Would Paige consider coming over and watching
The Blob
with her? Could they take another try at the relationship? This time, Avalon would keep her protected from all the bad that Hollywood unleashed. She’d show her that she was changing, getting better. Could she make Paige believe her?

Her hand buzzed suddenly and she looked down. The letters that glowed on her screen read
Paige Cornish
. Her heart jump-started to a brisk beat.

“Paige?”

“Hi, Avalon. How are you?”

“Great, now. You’re not going to believe what I’m watching right this minute.”

“Give me a clue.”

She hadn’t simply said,
What?
She was right back to their B-movie conversation. Avalon closed her eyes, adoring Paige. “Phoenixville, Pennsylvania. Steve McQueen.”

“I wouldn’t give much for their chances, running around in the middle of the night, looking for something that might kill them if they found them.”

She knew the lines, too! “You’re amazing.”

“I have a knack for schmaltzy dialogue.”

“No, I mean you’re amazing all around. I miss you.”

There was a pause on the other end. Then Paige’s voice came, as soft as down feathers. “I miss you, too.” She uttered a velvety moan, like the kind that punctuates a certain truth. “I have something I’d like to ask you.”

“Yes to whatever it is.”

Paige chuckled. “You might want to reserve your answer until I tell you everything.”

“Okay, but I’ll still say yes.”

“Can you meet me at a theater? It’s run by my friend, Dee Jae. I’ll text you the address.”

“Sure. When?”

“How’s tonight? Seven?”

“I’ll be there.”

Avalon hung up and held the phone to her chest. Her heart felt light and heavy at the same time. Maybe that’s what life was supposed to feel like—that all the bad things and all the good things had to have equal time or the balance would be off. Accepting the weight of her past was a way to appreciate the lightness of her present.

She pressed some keys on her phone.

“Mom,” she said when she heard the voice that always took her back to her childhood.

“Honey, are you all right?”

“Yes, Mom. I’m fine.” Avalon shifted the phone to her other ear. “Well, I haven’t been great, but I’m working on things.”

“I worry about you, you know.”

“I know you do. Listen, I wanted to tell you that I know it wasn’t easy to raise me. You fought with me every inch of the way. And I want to thank you for everything you did.”

A pause on the other end of the line told Avalon that her mother was searching for the best, most poised response. Triple Ps, of course.

“Thank you, Avalon.” There was a slight catch in her voice, as if she was trying to control an emotional moment. Avalon empathized with her. She knew well how laborious it was to staunch any behavior that might taint one’s perfect manners.

“Don’t worry about me, Mom. I’m fixing things in my life. I…I just wanted you to know.”

“You’re a strong woman, Avalon. I would never have expected any less from you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, dear.”

*

When Dee Jae rearranged the chairs for the third time, Paige held up her hand. “Stop, already.”

Dee Jae froze as if being flashed with
Men In Black
’s neuralizer.

“Just calm down,” Paige said. “I don’t want Avalon to think you’re a maniac.”

Dee Jae’s shoulders dropped in submission. “But I am, kinda. And she’s so…famous! I’ve never had an A-list player in my theater before. Lots of Bs and Cs, and some As in the audience, but no As in the—”

“Just sit down and chill.”

Dee Jae sat down, but her fingers rapped a furious staccato on her knees.

“Do you think she’ll do this?”

“I hope so.”

“Oh, my God. I’ve got to send word out much further and faster than I have. The place will be packed.”

“If she agrees,” Paige said, and truly wasn’t sure.

The stage side door opened and Avalon walked in. Dee Jae launched off the chair and skidded up to her. “Avalon, I’m Dee Jae. You must be Avalon!”

Avalon laughed and held out her hand. Dee Jae took it and seemed to dissolve where she stood. Paige came over and took Avalon’s other hand. “Come on, let’s sit down.”

She gave Avalon a set of pages. Dee Jae already had the script. “Dee Jae produces and directs workshops for aspiring screenwriters.”

Avalon looked at her with the eyes of a playful sprite. “Screenwriting, huh?”

“I may have
A Streetcar Named Desire
in me.”

“Of that I have no doubt.”

She now looked at her with such…what? Affection? Love? Paige fought the desire to move to her and kiss her. If Dee Jae hadn’t been there, she would have, without reservation. She’d straddle her in the chair and take her face in her hands. They’d kiss softly, at first, until she felt Avalon move her hips, pushing up to tell her she wanted her, too.

The clearing of a throat brought her out of her musings.

“That’s my one-act play.” Paige pointed to the script that Avalon held. “And all of us in the workshop are going to participate in a showcase where the plays will be performed.”

“And you want me to act in the showcase?”

Paige held her breath. “Yes.”

“
Underneath It All
,” Avalon said, reading the title.

Paige watched her open the script and begin to read. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Dee Jae drumming her fingers on her knees again.

Avalon’s face read like a cartoon flip book as her smile ratcheted down in measured steps as she continued reading.
Shit.
She didn’t like it.

Paige began to say something but told herself to just let her finish the play. A muffled door slammed somewhere in the building, as if someone was smart enough to flee the scene. As she sat there, nervous and expectant, the musty aroma from the stage curtains and the smell of well-oiled wood intensified, as if a resident thespian ghost was swirling up the atmosphere. It became stifling. Dee Jae’s fingers escalated into a fully sustained legato.

Avalon finally looked up. “Is this for real?”

“Yes.” Paige struggled, needing to clear her throat of the angst and apprehension lodged there. “It’s an exposé of Hollywood, seen through your eyes. It’s defiance of the shitty system that hangs you out to dry.”

“Paige…” Avalon got up and walked offstage, behind the curtains.

With that one word, Paige’s spirits plummeted. She’d upset her and probably embarrassed her. An ache rose inside, pounding against her stomach and spreading to her chest. She held a finger up to Dee Jae and followed Avalon.

Paige found her behind the curtain, standing there with her head down.

“Avalon, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

She held up the script. “Is this how you see me?”

“It’s how I see the industry. And you’re a product of that industry, someone who didn’t deserve to be blackballed.”

“It reads like a self-inflicted gunshot wound.”

“It’s meant to be a platform for all the crazy things that happen and all the things you wish you could say.”

“You’ve taken the stories I told you and turned them into a circus, Paige. The assistant that got fired over the dead goldfish, the chair that got thrown out the window, the kitty-litter piss box…these are real stories.”

“And they show how celebrities can be enabled by their handlers to such a severe degree that they begin to act insane. Actors are allowed, even encouraged sometimes, to go to such extremes that they become almost expected. And then, when the backlash hits, you’re the ones that go down—not the managers, the agents, the producers, or the directors. How many stars have died of drug overdoses because everyone in their lives said yes to anything they wanted?”

“But the worse part is that you detail my…my downfall like it’s a Saturday-morning cartoon.”

“In some ways it has been.”

Avalon turned to leave and Paige grabbed her by the arm. “I’m not saying your life is a cartoon. I’m saying your life has been made into a cartoon. One you never asked for.”

“This just underscores what I’m trying to distance myself from, don’t you see?”

“It separates you from it, Avalon. This play allows you to disconnect from the hype and show that it’s a role you play, just like the ones in front of the film cameras. You get to stand up and call out this thing that’s called Hollywood. You get to tell it like it is, bare bones and naked ass, and rail against the part of this business that is bullshit.”

Avalon pushed the script toward her. “This turns my life into a folly.”

Paige took it. “Did you read the last few pages?”

She shook her head, and Paige realized she was on the verge of angry tears.

“The set is Hollywood Boulevard. You walk upstage and stop. In a lone spotlight, you begin to speak.” Paige opened the script to the second-to-last page and looked at Avalon, whose expression had turned hard. She took a deep breath and began to read the last part of the monologue. “Puppets? Yes. Actors go by many names. We are puppets, dummies, patsies, flunkies, and meat on a stick. Alfred Hitchcock’s words still hold unbearable truth today, ‘I never said all actors are cattle; what I said was all actors should be treated like cattle.’