We Are Water (30 page)
I
hear the buzzer and run to the door. Look through the peephole. It’s Bree, thank god. I undo the chain. Turn the lock, slide the bolt back and let her in. “Hey,” I say. “Thanks for coming.”
“Sure. What’s going on? You sounded so freaked-out on the phone.”
I take off the ball cap, remove my sunglasses. Watch her eyes widen. “Oh shit, Marissa! What happened?”
I try to strangle my sobs but can’t. She waits. “The motherfucker beat me up. That’s what.”
“Who? Matthew?”
I shake my head. Matthew’s a bartender where I waitress, a guy I’ve gone to bed with off and on. “Tristan McCabe,” I say.
“The actor? Jesus, Rissa. What the . . . ?” When she takes me in her arms, I hold on for dear life. It happened on Friday and now it’s Sunday afternoon. It’s been a long, scary weekend. I don’t want to let go of her because this is the first I’ve felt safe. “Okay,” she finally says. “Start from the beginning.”
I flop onto the couch and she sits down beside me. Takes my hand in hers. “You know my friend Ebony from acting class?” She shakes her head. “Yes, you do. I introduced you two at that Anthropologie in the Village?”
“The one who works there?”
“Yeah. She called me Friday afternoon. Asked me . . .” Bree pulls a Kleenex from the box on the coffee table and hands it to me. I wipe my eyes. Blow my nose.
“You want a glass of water or something? A Xanax?”
I shake my head. Tell her I took one of my roommate’s an hour ago. Bree asks where she is. “In Cancun with her boyfriend, thank god,” I say. “If she knew about this, she’d probably get on Twitter and tell the whole world.”
“Okay. So Ebony called you.”
“She’s been having trouble making her rent. Plus, she’s way overextended on her credit cards. So she took out an ad on Craigslist.”
“What kind of ad?”
“You know.”
Bree’s eyes widen. “With all that ‘Craigslist killer’ stuff in the news? What is she? Crazy? God, I wouldn’t even put a listing in there when I was trying to sell my futon. Complete strangers coming up to my apartment. I don’t
think
so. But go on.”
“So she called me and asked if I wanted to make some easy money. And maybe some contacts.”
She frowns. “I don’t think I like where you’re going with this.”
“Bree, I haven’t had an acting job in like six months. And do you know why? Because in this shitty business, it’s all about who you know, who you can network with. Plus, Ebony said she had hooked up with Tristan the last time he was in town, and that he was really nice. Respectful. She met him at the hotel where he was staying and they had a few drinks in the bar. Then they went up to his room and all he wanted was a blow job. He paid her three hundred and tipped her an extra hundred on top of that.”
“For a ‘respectful’ blow job? Jesus Christ, Marissa.” She grabs a pillow and hugs it. “So?”
“So he called her this past Friday. Said he was in town to do some promos for that cop show he’s in, and could they hook up again? But this time he wanted her to bring a friend with her, preferably an Asian girl. That he had a thing for Asian girls.”
“Oh, please. What does he think? That he’s ordering off a menu? And you
agreed
to this?”
“Well, yeah. Because Showtime is casting for a new series they’re planning to film here in the city next year, okay? I had called about it, but they said they were only doing closed auditions. But Tristan told Ebony that the casting director is the sister of his college roommate, and that he could maybe make a call and get her in. So I thought that if I went there with her, it might open a door for me, too. He’s on network TV, Bree. He was in
Band of Brothers
. Do you know who produced that series? Tom Hanks!”
“Are you out of your mind, Marissa? Exchanging sex for six degrees of separation from—”
“Don’t fucking judge me!”
“Okay, I’m sorry,” she says. “It’s just . . . you’re scaring me.”
“And anyway, it
wasn’t
sex. Not really. Ebony said all I’d have to do was get naked and make out with her a little while he watched, and maybe make out with him a little, too. And maybe, you know, let him watch me touch myself while they . . . But that was all. She’d take care of the rest, she said. They’d already agreed on a price. A thousand dollars, which we could split fifty-fifty.”
Bree gets off the sofa and goes over to the window. Stands there with her back to me. “Marissa, do you know what they call women who make business arrangements like that?”
“Yeah, and do
you
know how many casting calls I’ve been to in the past month? Seven. With zero callbacks. Look, I don’t expect you to understand. You go to work every day, sit up there in your office on the umpteenth floor of corporate headquarters, nice and safe. But acting is a tough business.”
“And finance isn’t?”
“Yeah, I’m sure it is. But it’s not like you have to go out and hit the pavement all the time, looking for jobs that you don’t get, and then go waitress at night. Put up with a bunch of bullshit from assholes with money to burn so you’ll get bigger tips. And hey, it’s not like you didn’t sleep with your supervisor before you got that promotion.”
“Because I
liked
the guy. There’s a difference, Marissa.”
“Yeah, and you like your new salary, too.”
As soon as it’s out of my mouth, I’m sorry I said it. The last thing I want to do right now is make her mad. Alienate her so that she leaves. “No, I’m sorry. You’re right. It
is
different. And it was stupid of me to go there with her. I
know
that now, okay? But at the time, it seemed like an opportunity. It’s like what Ebony says. In this business, it’s all about who you know and who you blow.”
“Jesus Christ, Marissa!”
“Look, all I’m saying is that if you want acting work and you’re not Scarlett Johansson, you’ve got to make compromises. Take risks. That’s just the way it works. And it wasn’t like there was going to be any penetration. I was clear about that.”
She turns and faces me. “Wasn’t
going
to be? Just tell me, Rissa. Did he rape you in addition to using you as a punching bag?”
“No! He was . . .”
She comes back and sits down. “Okay, just tell me what happened. God, you’re making me a nervous wreck.”
“He was staying at the Mondrian down in SoHo, okay? I met Ebony in the lobby and we were both a little early, so we went to the bar and had a drink. You know who we saw in there? Kate Hudson.”
“Yeah, whatever. Then what?”
“So Ebony was explaining how it would play out. What she was going to do, what I’d do. I asked her if it would be cool to talk with him about representation—if, like, he thought I should try to get an agent or wait until I had a few more acting credits, maybe ask him who
his
agent is. I already knew he’s represented by UTA, one of the big gorillas out there, but I figured, hey, if I could get him to talk about it, he might even give me a referral to
them
. But Ebony said I shouldn’t bring any of that up until after we were finished, and only if, you know, he had had a really good time. ‘Let’s play it by ear,’ she said. And I was nervous, you know? Part of me was like, okay, I can handle it. Ebony will be there. It’s not like I’m going to be alone with him. And another part was like, I can’t believe I’m going to do this.”
Bree shakes her head. “That was the part you
should
have been listening to, Marissa,” she says. “So?”
“So we went up to his suite. And at first, everything was cool. He paid Ebony and ordered up some sushi and a couple of bottles of Cristal. And after they delivered it, we were just sitting and talking, drinking champagne. Tristan and Ebony were eating the sushi, too, but I didn’t because I’m always so spastic with chopsticks. Didn’t want to hear, ‘You’re part
Asian
and you don’t know how to use
chopsticks
?’ But then he starts feeding me. Putting maki in front of my mouth and going, like, ‘Open up, Ming.’ ”
“Ming?”
“Yeah, Ebony had given us both fake names. She was Karina and I was Ming. She said the only real information she gives these guys is her cell phone number. It’s a safety precaution.”
“Oh. So at the end of this little session he’s going to give a referral to someone named Ming?”
“No! But I figured that, if we gave him what he wanted, I’d tell him my real name afterward.” She’s staring at my swollen face. “Look, are you trying to make me feel like a bigger idiot than I already—”
“No. I’m sorry. Go on.”
“He . . . he asked us if we wanted to do a line of coke with him, and we did that. I wasn’t going to, but I was feeling a little tipsy from the champagne, and I figured the coke would get me, you know, refocused. But I wasn’t out of control or anything. I know my limits.”
She reaches over and touches the bruise on my cheek. “Well, apparently Mr. Hollywood doesn’t know
his
,” she says. “Does it still hurt?”
I nod. Go on. “He put some music on, some Jay-Z, and he said he wanted us to dance for him. So we did that. Then Ebony started doing this striptease for him. So I did, too. We hadn’t discussed that downstairs, but I mean, the guy was paying us a lot of money, so I figured okay, I can do that much. Ebony started kissing me and I was like, well, this was what I agreed to. It was just acting, you know?”
“Oh, yeah. Sounds very Shakespearean.” I give her a look. “Okay, I’m sorry. I get sarcastic when I’m nervous. You know that. Then what happened?”
“He was . . . he was sitting there, smiling and watching us and . . . touching himself. Under his shirt, between his legs. Then he got up and got naked and the three of us were dancing. He started getting a little free with his hands, but it wasn’t over the top or anything. But then he . . .”
“He what?”
“Went into the bedroom. Said he had to call California and ask his agent something. And I was like, his
agent
, so I was trying to listen to what he was saying. But the only thing I could make out was him going, ‘Are you shitting me, Jenny? Then fuck Universal! And grow a dick while you’re at it!’ And after he hung up, he was in there for another ten minutes and we were just sitting there, waiting for him. And when I asked Ebony what was going on, she was like, ‘Shh.’ . . . I don’t know, Bree. I think maybe his agent gave him bad news about something. Or that maybe he took something else while he was in there. Because when he came back out again, he looked wild-eyed and was acting all pissed off at us. He goes, ‘Come on, let’s go!’ like
we
were the ones who’d been keeping
him
waiting. It was like Jekyll and Hyde, you know? He started getting rough. Grabbing at us, bumping up against us. He reached over and pinched my nipple and I was like, ‘Ow!’ Ebony told him to cool it, and he said he hadn’t paid her for a fucking lecture. So she got down on her knees to . . . you know. But he batted her head away and said
he
was calling the shots. And she said, no,
she
was—that they’d already agreed on the terms. He went ballistic! Started screaming that she and her ‘slant-eyed sidekick’ had better do what he wants or else. Then he starts walking around the suite and has this . . .
tantrum
. Pushes over the table where the champagne and sushi were. Picks up a chair and smashes it against the wall. He was like, ‘Do you bitches know who I
am
? Do you think I’m giving you a grand for fucking
amateur
hour?’ ”
Bree flinches. “God, you must have been so scared.”
“I
was
. And I was like, okay, let’s just give him his money back and get out of here. He had paid Ebony in cash, okay? And I could see the bills sticking out of her bag. So I grabbed the money and held it out to him. And when I did that, he got so mad that . . . He grabs the money out of my hand and throws it on the floor. Then he gets all up in my face and . . . starts
screaming
at me. I kept backing up, you know? Until I was against the wall. Ebony kept saying, ‘Come on, baby. Come over here so I can make you feel good.’ Except he wouldn’t back away from me. There was this big vein popping out on his forehead, and his face was all red and contorted. His spit’s flying out at me. Then he starts . . . he makes a fist and starts . . .”
Bree covers her mouth with her hand.
“
Punching
me! In my face, my stomach. At first I was like dazed. Doubled over, you know? I felt like I was going to throw up. And when I looked up again, I saw him forcing Ebony facedown on the arm of the sofa. She was struggling to get up, but he had his hand on the small of her back and he wouldn’t let her. And she was like, ‘Use a condom, please just use a condom.’ And he goes, ‘Fuck condoms. I want it back door.’ ”
Bree’s blinking back tears. “This is a nightmare. What did you do?”
“Got behind him and tried pulling him off of her. But he swiveled around and shoved me so hard that I fell backward. Onto the floor. One of the champagne bottles was right there. And I thought maybe if I hit him over the head with it. . . . But I was scared that, if it didn’t knock him out, it would make him even crazier. So I figured, okay, I’ll get help. Grabbed my clothes. Got dressed as fast as I could. But when I was almost to the door, I was like, ‘Oh, shit! My purse!’ I went back to grab it, but he saw me and yanked it away. Started whacking it, over and over, against the wall. And everything went flying out. My wallet, my phone. While he was busy beating the shit out of my bag, Ebony grabs her clothes and points at the door, like come on,
let’s go
. But what was I supposed to do? Leave without my phone? My credit cards? Only, when I went to pick them up, he
tackled
me. Got on top of me and . . . Oh god, it’s . . . it’s like I’m back there again.”
“No, you’re not,” Bree says. “Look around. You’re here with me in your apartment. You’re safe.”
“Look what that son of a bitch did to me!” I pull back my hair so she can see the bruise on my neck. Pull up my shirt and show her his teeth marks on my stomach.