Stereo (3 page)

“No,” Shaun said with finality. “You’re insane.  My editor will never go for this.  Do you hear me?  Never.”

--

“I LOVE IT!” Jackson Hayes, Editor-in-Chief at Cosmopolitan Magazine, beamed from across his desk. The bright smile on his face was almost blinding.

Shaun looked on blankly.  “You can’t be serious,” she said dryly.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”  Jackson jumped out of his giant leather chair and began walking to the window of his office.  His beer belly pushed against the blinds as he looked out at all of his subordinates milling around their cubicles. “The magazine is in trouble and we’ve been deluding ourselves thinking that we don’t need to get our hands dirty for too long now.  There’s no room for ethics in this business anymore doll.  It’s kill or be killed.  Get them before they get you.  Adam Brand is the biggest thing out right now and this story is just what we need to resuscitate our rapidly floundering magazine.  It’s got everything… celebrity, intrigue—it should have a to-do list.”  Jackson put his forehead in his hand and then snapped his head back up, spreading his hands across the air dramatically. “ ‘How to Nab a Rock Star in Thirty Days’.”

Shaun didn’t recall telling him that title, and gave him the side eye the second he said it. “Did Celia call you?”

Jackson looked at her as if he’d forgotten she’d been in the room altogether. “Who’s Celia?”

Shaun looked away from him, muttering, “nobody.”

Jackson waited for Shaun to look back at him and neither of them said a word when she did.  They both remained silent before Jackson shook his head. “Well what the fuck are you waiting for?”

Shaun jolted. “Oh. Okay.”  Having sensed her cue to leave she began frantically gathering all of her things until they were in an unorganized, dangerous heap in her thin arms. She hurried towards the door and turned back to him just before she left. “If this article goes well maybe you and I can discuss a possible position—“

“I want the first outline by tomorrow morning,” Jackson said, before slamming the door in her face.

--

“I cannot believe this,” Shaun mumbled later that night in Celia’s master bedroom.  Celia lived in a one story home in Santa Monica with a mortgage that still made Shaun cringe whenever she thought about it, but she found herself visiting almost daily.

Gazing at her reflection in the mirrored vanity before her, Shaun barely recognized herself.  Celia was kneeling over Shaun with her back to the vanity, which was scattered with make-up and hair supplies.  In a little under an hour Celia had taken her tomboy best friend and made her almost ladylike.

“I don’t even recognize myself,” Shaun mumbled, flinching when Celia scraped a wad of cotton across her face.

“I want you to wear a dress tonight,” Celia said, brushing on a shade of lipstick that had Shaun more than a little worried.

“Celia, no.  The last time I wore a dress was when my mother forced me to sophomore year.  You remember that teal monstrosity from picture day when I weighed two hundred and thirty pounds? All the boys called me Green Giant for the rest of the year.”

“The rest of the year?  Girl those boys still call you Green Giant to this very day.”

“Fantastic.” Shaun hated to admit it, but that hurt.  She’d worked her tail off for nearly a year losing the extra hundred or-so pounds that she’d carried around for most of high school. The weight still haunted her.  Sometimes she felt like Celia couldn’t wait to remind her.

“Regardless,” Celia chimed in. “That weight is gone and the body image negativity that came with it is long over-do for a serious exorcism.  Shaunie you are
smoking hot
.  One of the biggest rock stars on the planet mistook you for a model and he’s not wrong.  You
do
look like a model and it’s about time you showed it off.”

“But a dress?  Can’t we just start with a pair of short heels or something?”

“Short? Heel?” Celia paused. “Does not compute.”

Shaun rolled her eyes, giggling when the action caused Celia to accidently get her cheek with the eyeliner she’d been meticulously applying.

“I told you to be still,” Celia chastised. “Wasting all my good make-up.... Keep smiling, next time I’m gonna get you right in the eye.”

Shaun rolled her eyes to the top of her head and did her best to keep still. “It’s easy for you to put me in a dress and heels and act like it’s nothing, you’ve been beautiful your whole life.  You don’t understand what it’s like for someone like me to dress up.”

Shaun thought back to all the dances she’d never gone to, all the dates she never been asked on and all the playful flirting that had never been directed at her.  Celia had always been the pretty one out of the pair. To that very day people
still
stopped Celia on the street because they’d mistaken her for Tyra Banks. Shaun had always been stuck in the wings, too shy to do anything more with her life than worship her friend from afar.  It was something that had become a habit of hers and it was one she was comfortable with.  Celia did all of the shining and Shaun kept to herself in the background, typing quietly on her laptop or drowning herself in a book.

Celia’s voice snapped Shaun out of her thoughts. “Do you want to be single for the rest of your life?  Serious question.”

“Of course not.”

“Then consider this whole thing as dating practice. The Chuck Taylors and combat boots have got to go.  I’m only telling you this as your very best friend but if I didn’t know you and saw you walking down the street in what you’re wearing right now, I would be thinking about which of my lesbian friends I could hook you up with okay? I’m not going to let you go out there with Adam Brand looking more butch than he does, especially since you’re going to be writing that article.  Men like him don’t fall for girls like you and if you give him even the slightest inkling that you are as inexperienced as you are, he will smell it like the dog that he is.”  Celia laughed. “You can’t be the twenty-four year old who’s never had sex—“

“I
am
a twenty-four year old who’s never had sex.”

Celia almost slapped her. “
No.”

Shaun sighed deeply, staring down at her skinny jeans, white converses and faded t-shirt.  She hated to admit it, but Celia was right.  If she had any chance of writing this article and securing her dream job she had to appeal to the common man.  And the common man responded to make up, dresses, and sky high heels.  With a heavy heart, she settled back in the vanity chair in surrender, leaving her body and her face to Celia’s mercy.

An hour later they were finally done with hair and make-up. Celia had decided to keep Shaun’s hair curly, which she appreciated.  Getting her afro into anything that resembled a straight style could take hours, and Shaun didn’t have the time or patience for that.  The eye shadow and eyeliner were subtle, but somehow made her dark eyes seem ten times bigger than they actually were.  Her nose looked more defined as well, but in a good way.  Shaun loved her lips the most and made a mental note to ask Celia what color and brand it was.   Turning her head to the side, Shaun almost smiled.

Celia observed her with a quiet smirk. “Do you like it?”

“I do,” Shaun said, dreamily, before snapping back to reality. “Too bad this much work is going towards something so deceitful.”

“It’s not deceitful if both parties know exactly what’s going on.”

“Adam doesn’t know exactly what’s going on. Does he know that I’m not a model?  Does he know that I write for Cosmo?  Does he know that at the end of this he’s going to be featured in a
three page spread
about how to land a rock star--written by yours truly? No.  He doesn’t know any of that… and that makes this deceitful.”

“This virtuous game you’ve been playing was cute when we were twelve, but we’re all grown up now.  Things are different these days okay?  People aren’t playing fair out there. The nice girl doesn’t prosper anymore.  She falls and not only does she fall, she falls
hard
and then gets trampled by all the “deceitful” women who were smart enough to play a good hand when they’ve got it.”

Shaun’s eyes searched her friend’s face. “I don’t believe that,” she whispered.

“I could have easily told Janelle and Adam that you weren’t a model in my agency, but a writer for Cosmopolitan Magazine, and watched how fast they ran out of my office screaming. That’s what all celebrities do when they realize a writer is in the room. But I didn’t do that, because I’ve always had to be the bitch for both of us.  Thank god I was there or you wouldn’t even have this opportunity.”

Shaun continued to gaze at her reflection. “But I’m not a liar, Celia. It goes against everything that I’m about as a writer and as a human being.”

“Fuck all that,” Celia cried.

“Even if I did manage to pull this off, which is highly unlikely, do you really think one of the biggest celebrities in the world isn’t going to have me sign a confidentiality agreement?  His law team is probably typing it up right as we speak.”

“I’m going to handle all of that Shaun.  Trust me. Adam Brand is a big boy and I’m sure that, at the end of the day, some magazine article written about him is the very least of his problems.”  Celia was now aware that Shaun
still
hadn’t heard about Adam’s racist rant and decided to keep her mouth shut.  She knew that Shaun was already stretching herself way beyond her moral breaking point.  If she had any idea the things that Adam had said in that interview there was no way in hell she’d ever give him a second of her time.  When Shaun’s silence persisted, Celia felt victorious. “I’m not going to steer you wrong Shaun.  By the end of this you are going to have the magazine article of your
career
and you’ll be able to write your ticket.  Just do everything I say and I promise you he’ll be putty in your hands.”

--

Shaun tripped over the ridiculous heels she was wearing for the third time that night. She’d only been out of the car for thirty seconds.  In the middle of the busy Hollywood street she turned to Celia--who was parked along the sidewalk--and was met with the sight of her friend shaking her head in dismay.  Shaun was somewhat offended.  She’d never walked in a pair of heels in her life. Celia had decided to start her off in a pair of 4-inch, fuck-me-red pumps that hurt so bad Shaun could barely breathe… let alone walk in a straight, sexy line.

A horn honked, reminding Shaun that she was standing in the middle of the street. She faced forward and took in the Sushi Samba sign illuminated before her. 
Just a few more steps,
she told herself.  She began to slowly stumble her way towards it and managed to make it to the sidewalk without incident. A triumphant smile spread across her face at her success but it dropped cold when she caught sighed of Adam.

He was standing on the curb outside of the restaurant alone, all alone, as if he wasn’t one of the biggest stars on the planet.  Shaun found this strangely endearing. When he spotted Shaun, Adam took a step toward her, but froze in mid-step, shoving his hands deep in his pockets.  The dark washed skinny jeans he had on annoyed Shaun so much that she almost called the whole thing off right then and there, but she was too busy being even more annoyed by the tiny white t-shirt he had on.  Her eyes fell to the all-black Converses on his feet and she grew immediately envious.  They looked damned comfortable.

His arms flexed from pushing his hands into his pockets, showcasing the lean muscles that he clearly worked hard for, as his eyes traveled her body.

Shaun forced herself to stand tall under his obvious scrutiny, and began making her way across the sidewalk until she was standing in front of him.  It took everything in her not to adjust the little black dress she had on.  It suddenly felt way too short.

Adam suddenly felt underdressed.  “Hey,” he said.

“Hey.”  Shaun’s eyes narrowed.

“You look nice.”

Shaun was surprised, so much so that she looked back at him with an openly shocked face.  “Thank you.” 

“So I don’t know about you but I need a drink.”

“I don’t drink,” she said, staring disdainfully at his jeans.  Why did men wear skinny jeans?

Adam was confused.  “What do you mean you don’t drink?”

Shaun squeezed her lips together. “I mean I don’t drink.”

“A.A.?”

Shaun shook her head. She could see the judgment on his face and hated that he was making her feel like some weirdo.

When he shook his head and held an arm out towards the doors of the restaurant, inviting her to walk in front of him, she hesitated.  Stepping towards the doors, she held her breath and prayed for gracefulness.  Instead she got a crook in the sidewalk which threw off her step, causing her heel to tilt. Her heart stopped as she lost her footing and began to fall forward, her arms splaying manically. It wasn’t the first time she’d tripped tonight, and probably wouldn’t be the last, but this fall was far worse than the first three.  Having been distracted by Adam she hadn’t seen this one coming, so she had no time to save herself—or even
attempt
to save herself.  As she went tumbling to the ground, feeling like death was upon her, she gasped when she realized that she hadn’t hit the ground.