Authors: Lauren Conrad
The Fame Game (17 page)
“I’m telling you,” Trevor said, meeting Veronica Bliss’s eyes across her desk at
Gossip
’s West L.A. offices, “there’s romance in the air.”
The editor of the magazine batted her eyelashes at him. “Oh, Trevor,” Veronica said, “you’re a married man.”
Trevor smiled grimly. He didn’t have time to play this little game with Veronica today, but he was obliged; he needed to stay on her good side. With
L.A. Candy
, he’d had to pretend as if tabloids and gossip blogs didn’t exist—but with
The Fame Game
, they played a crucial part of the story (and in the success of the show). In fact he was hoping for a cover in the next few weeks leading up to the premiere (or at the very least, a nice two-page spread). He was cutting the trailer this week, the
Buzz!
interview with Carmen was in the can, and this was the next piece of the puzzle.
He raised his glass to Veronica, who was obviously waiting for the expected compliment. “Well, if I were still single, you’d be at the top of my list. Because you look amazing in that dress.” He winked, and she grinned at him, satisfied now. Then he pointed the arm of his Dior Homme aviators at her. “But really, now, Veronica—there’s love on the set of
The Fame Game
. That’s got to interest you just a little bit. You’ve run Brangelina crap for four issues in a row. You could use some fresh blood.”
Veronica smirked as she took a sip of tea. “Oh, really? Last I checked your show hadn’t even aired yet. Which means the vast majority of the world doesn’t know it exists, and those who do know don’t really care.”
“They’ll care soon enough,” Trevor assured her. “The show is going to be a hit.”
Veronica eyed him skeptically. “Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you? Listen, your show
might
be a hit. But you’re dealing with a different world now. PopTV no longer corners the market on reality. Every network and cable channel has plucked some nobody from Wherever, USA, and tried to build a show around them.”
“But I don’t have nobodies,” Trevor reminded her. “I’ve got Carmen Curtis—”
“Has she nicked anything lately? I thought that top she stole was ugly, personally.”
Trevor chose to ignore this. “We’ve got Madison Parker, and—”
“Madison Parker!” Veronica interrupted again. “She is an absolute joy. I’m sure you’re just loving the chance to deal with her again. Though, of course, I did have some successful interactions with her during
L.A. Candy. . . .
”
She smiled slightly, and Trevor knew that she was remembering how Madison had sold racy pictures of her supposed best friend, Jane Roberts, to
Gossip
and then swept poor Jane away to Mexico, where she had tried her hardest to turn Jane against her true best friend, Scarlett.
“
Anyway
,” Trevor said pointedly, “what I’m here to talk to you about is Luke Kelly, the star of Colum McEntire’s future blockbuster,
The End of Love
.”
“Operative word being ‘future,’” Veronica said.
Trevor had had enough of her bullshit. “Yes,
future
. Why don’t you try to be ahead of the curve on this one, Veronica? Or would you rather run the same old stories a week after the blogs break them?” He watched her expression turn cooler; yes, he’d gotten to her. Finally.
“All right,” Veronica said. “I’ll bite. What do you have?”
“The movie is based on Romeo and Juliet—it’s the original bad romance, right? And Luke Kelly and Carmen Curtis, his costar, are together. Lovers on-screen and off.”
I think
, he said to himself. Trevor had put in a call to Luke’s agent, but it had not been returned.
Veronica nodded ever so slightly. “I saw something about that—do you think it’s true?”
“On
D-Lish
, yes. But he only had one picture. I’m sure you’ve got something in your files somewhere. Are you interested in taking a look?” If Luke Kelly was dating one of Trevor’s stars and wouldn’t come forward or sign a release to be on the show, then Trevor would simply flush him out. And publicity—whether this guy wanted it or not—would do the trick.
Veronica thought for a moment, then pressed a button on her phone. “Stacy, find me those motorcycle shots. You know, the ones with Luke Kelly and that BMW he’s so proud of?” She turned to Trevor. “Let’s take a look at these. We almost ran them in a ‘stars on bikes’ feature, but it got traded out at the last minute when Lacey Hopkins got that hot-pink bike. She even got that thing bedazzled.”
“These” turned out to be photos of Luke and a girl bundled up in a jacket and wearing a helmet. In the background was the Park Towers building where Madison, Gaby, and Kate lived. And where Carmen did a lot of filming.
Veronica squinted at the photos. “You think that’s Carmen?”
Trevor nodded. “I do. I mean, I’ve seen her wearing that leather jacket.” He wasn’t sure, but it was the best story for the show so he was willing to run with it anyway.
“Huh,” Veronica said, folding her arms. “Huh.” She stared at the photos a little bit longer. “It’s only a story if it’s Carmen. But I can’t tell. . . .”
“What, like
Gossip
has never speculated before?” Trevor laughed drily. “I seem to recall that cover story where you announced the impending divorce of a certain British pop star who two weeks later renewed her vows in an intimate Hawaiian ceremony.”
Veronica shrugged. “We all make mistakes. Besides, our cover was the only reason they felt the need to renew.”
“Live a little,” Trevor said. “Run with the story! This is your chance to be first. And to be on TV.”
She raised her eyebrows. “So you’ll be filming the
real
reality this season? You’re not going to continue to pretend we don’t exist? Because that was beginning to hurt my feelings, you know.”
“We’re going to have the tabloids—the
magazines
—delivered to the girls the moment they come off the presses,” Trevor said. “Your publication will be featured prominently.”
Veronica gave this a little thought. “We could speculate, I suppose. We could do a spread of all your girls. Luke Kelly in the center. Question marks all around.”
“‘Which reality star has captured the heart of Doctor Rose of
Boston General
?’”
Veronica nodded. “Something like that. When did you say the premiere of
The Fame Game
was?”
“I didn’t.” Trevor leaned back, certain he’d just found another way to make his girls famous. “But it’s in three weeks. You want a ticket?”
Veronica smiled. “For me and a photographer. And an exclusive. For that, I’ll run these.”
Trevor reached across the desk and patted her hand. “You’re the best, babe,” he said.
“I know,” she said. “Too bad you’re taken.”
He smiled his best fake smile. Nope, that joke never got old.
Madison sat in her agent’s office, tapping her foot in a combination of boredom and annoyance as the PopTV camera crew finished setting up. Nick was on the phone with another one of his clients, conducting business as if she weren’t even there. “No, of course we’ll get you that spot,” he was saying. “They want someone who’s a little curvy, a little—no, that’s not an insult, not in this particular case. It’s a
good
thing. Whatever you do, do
not
go to the gym this week.”
Madison sighed. She’d rather be anywhere than here right now. It was nothing against Nick; usually he had good news for her. But not today. Today she was here so that he could tell her, again, that she didn’t get a good role in
The End of Love.
This, of course, was so the viewers of
The Fame Game
could see her crushed reaction. She hated this story line—it made her seem desperate and sad, as if she was stupid enough to believe she’d had a chance in the first place.
“All right, we’re ready,” Laurel called. “Mad, your mike on?”
“It’s
Madison
,” Madison said. “And yes.”
The director gave the signal, and filming began: Nick turned to her, his hands folded on his desk and a sympathetic look on his face. “Not good news on the movie front,” he said. He scratched at his temple and waited for her response.
Oh, really?
Madison thought.
You don’t say
. “What is it?” she asked, allowing the slightest hint of a tremor to creep into her voice. That’d make the viewers feel sorry for her. “What did they say?”
Nick cleared his throat. “Uh, they said that you were
great
, of course. . . .” He paused. “But they were looking for someone with a little more on-screen experience.”
Madison nodded silently. Oh, reality TV: where you got to live the most humiliating moments of your life twice. “But I’ve been on TV a hundred times by now,” she said. “Doesn’t that count as a screen?”
“Yes, yes,” Nick agreed. “But movies are a different animal, as you know.”
Madison said nothing. She felt the camera lingering on her silent, still face. She hated the thought of being publicly rejected.
“I mean, let’s face it,” Nick said, suddenly looking more cheerful. “Can we find a better character than Madison Parker herself? No, because there’s no such thing. If you played anyone besides exactly who you are, it’d be a letdown for your fans.”
Madison smiled wryly at the way Nick could turn rejection into a compliment. That was an agent for you.
“But I do have some good news for you,” Nick went on.
She sat up a little straighter. She hadn’t expected anything good out of this meeting.
“I’ve got you in the running for a guest spot on
The Big Bang Theory
,” he said.
“Recurring?” Madison asked.
He nodded. “Yep. A hot new neighbor.”
Madison smiled. “Excellent. You know I do ‘hot’ very well.”
Nick said, “Yes, of course you’re hot, darling. You’re the hottest. So hot that I think I’ve got you a new endorsement, too. KleenSkin is looking for a new celebrity spokesperson and—”
“KleenSkin?” Madison interrupted. “The zit cream?”
“The . . . uh, skin-care system,” Nick said, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.
Madison reached up to feel her flawless cheek. She was not about to go on TV and tell people she’d once had a face that looked like a pepperoni pizza. She might as well become a spokesperson for liposuction or Botox or laser hair removal and sell a picture of herself from ninth grade to
Gossip
.
“Well, I’ll have to think about it,” she said. “Is there anything else?”
Nick shuffled through some papers on his desk. “The L.A. Humane Society would like you to come to their benefit. You’re scheduled for a ribbon-cutting at the new Sephora in Glendale. Secret deodorant wants you to come to a lawn party they’re having to launch a new scent. . . .”
Madison nodded, smiling as if these things sounded good to her. But they didn’t. She needed to get some better exposure, stat. This was
The Fame Game
. Not
The Wannabe Game
. Not
The Almost-Famous Game
. Not
The You-Promised-Me-the-Next-Level-So-What-the-Hell-Am-I-Doing-Going-to-a-Deodorant-Party Game
.
“So let’s do lunch next week,” Nick said. “All right? We’ll have more to discuss. We should talk about a party for the Madelyn Wardell Foundation, for instance.”
“Great,” Madison said, standing. “Call me.” She blew him a kiss and let the cameras follow her out of the office.
“Got it,” someone called, and Madison whirled around mid-stride and headed back into Nick’s office.
“Seriously,” she hissed, “zit cream?”
He looked up, not at all surprised to see her. “It’s a big check, Madison, and we all know you like those. And so do I. Katy Perry did it, and she’s done all right, don’t you think?”
“Deodorant? Fucking
animals
? Where are the endorsements for spring water, or hair color, or something respectable? Even freaking Snooki has a perfume!”
Nick held up his hand to stop the tirade. “Babe,” he said, “I’m working on it. I do nothing but work for you.” Madison scoffed, but he chose to ignore it. “I’m telling you, something huge is around the corner, I can feel it.”
“You’d better be right,” she said.
“Sit back down,” he said. “Tell me how you’re doing. Really. You seem a little stressed.”
She sat back down. “I’m fine. Except for my bullshit movie role and my crap endorsement deals. I mean, other than that, life is great.”
“How’s the show going?” He raised his eyebrows in that way that said
I know something about something
. Madison hadn’t told Nick about her dad, but of course he knew—he got her weekly shooting schedules, too.
Madison reached back to switch off her mike and glanced over at the crew breaking down the camera equipment. They were too busy to pay attention to her answer, and Laurel was in the hall, talking on her phone. Madison could be honest. And a week or so ago, the honest answer to Nick’s question would have involved a true Madison-style tirade: The way Trevor had sprung her dad and her sister on her had been completely out of line and totally uncalled for. Did he really need to keep reminding the world that she wasn’t who she said she was?
But having Charlie show up the way he did had turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Suddenly she had a father again, no matter how imperfect. So, in fact, Madison felt like thanking Trevor (not that she ever would).
“The show’s going well,” was all she said, because Nick was her agent, not her friend, and although it was fine for him to know the facts, there were
some
things Madison wanted to keep private.
Nick waited expectantly, but when nothing more was forthcoming he said, “All right, you don’t want to talk about the show. Fine. Then you should at least talk to your agent about your new Hollywood romance.”
“Pardon?”
“Playing dumb, are we?” Nick pointed a pencil at her. “That’s so unbecoming. You’re the one seeing Luke Kelly, aren’t you?”
“What are you talking about?” Madison asked, thoroughly baffled.
“Oh, come on. You mentioned something about him after that Togs for Tots benefit you went to. You had your eye on him, didn’t you? Then your publicist, Sasha, called me this morning—someone at
Gossip
called her to get the dirt on you and Luke.”
Madison was still having a hard time understanding what he was talking about. Sure, she’d noticed Luke Kelly on the red carpet. But he was just Doctor Rose back then—he was hot, but he was still kind of C-list. Then she’d had that horrible reading with him and was too mortified to even look him in the eye. So she hadn’t made a move, and she’d just gotten so distracted by her sister and her dad. . . .
“So is there going to be an article or something?” she asked, mentally kicking herself for not returning Sasha’s calls for the last two days.
Nick shot her a look of annoyance. “
Gossip
’s running something about Luke Kelly’s romantic entanglements with one of
The Fame Game
cast members. I thought it was you. It
should
be you.”
Madison ran through the last few weeks in her mind, knowing there was something she was forgetting. Who was he dating? Not Gaby—Luke lacked the Neanderthal gene that Gaby seemed to find so irresistible, and if her own roommate had been dating him she’d definitely know. That left Kate and Carmen. Kate was too vanilla, too Iowa or Ohio or wherever she was from. So it had to be Carmen.
She was so sick of Carmen, and the season hadn’t even begun yet.
“How did you not know about this, Madison? You’re always so on top of your own press. Is it this stuff with your dad showing up?”
Madison gritted her teeth at his dismissive tone and for the first time felt a little stung that she was just a character on a show to her own agent, too.
Not your friend
, she reminded herself.
“You’re supposed to keep tabs on your costars,” Nick continued. “You’re supposed to stay two steps ahead of them. You can’t do that if you have no idea what’s going on off-camera.”
Madison nodded. He was right of course. When they were shooting
L.A. Candy
, she’d known everything about everything. She had crafted her own story line, giving herself almost as much control as Trevor had. She’d kept Veronica Bliss, the editor of
Gossip
, on speed dial. She had made sure people saw things the way she wanted them to be seen. And now? Now it wasn’t like that at all. Now she kept getting surprised. Regardless of what Trevor had told her, that was not a good thing.
“It’s got to be that bitch Carmen,” she said. “She must have sunk her claws into him at the audition.”
“I’m telling you, ‘that bitch Carmen’ is going to be a problem for you if you don’t start paying attention. Everything you’ve busted your ass for, she was born with. She’s used to getting things her way. She’s going to walk all over you if you don’t wake up.”
Madison bristled. “I’d like her to try. Carmen Curtis is the dullest, most talentless person I’ve ever met. If she weren’t the product of famous DNA, no one would give a shit about her.”
“That’s the point, babe. She
is
the product of famous DNA.”
“She’s a shoplifting troll with hairy forearms.”
Nick grinned. “Now there’s the Madison I know and love. Always so diplomatic.”
She shrugged. Whoever said diplomacy was such a great trait? Personally she felt that brutal honesty got the conversation going much faster. “She’s a walking yawn, Nick. She really ought to steal something again—then she’d at least have a story.”
“But she has a story,” Nick reminded her. “A relationship with her new costar.”
Madison gave an involuntary shudder. New love! She couldn’t believe she’d been so out of it. Of course
The Fame Game
needed a romance story line. And it seemed like Carmen had scored that role, too.