Star Minds Chasing Stardom

by Barbara G. Tarn

  For "Lonely Rhapsody" we shot the video on a low-gravity stage. There was no live audience, but the results were awesome. If I jumped, I was almost flying. The camera followed me as I moved – light as a feather – on that stage.

  When I went back to normal gravity after the shoot I almost decided to go on a diet to lose weight, but Rashaun talked me out of it. The real shows would be on normal stages with a live audience and I needed all my strength to deal with that.

  I never had stage fright, but the first time I walked on stage in a full theater I was a little humbled. Wedding banquets, crowded as they can be, have only a few hundreds of guests. There were now almost ten thousand people seated in front of me, and they'd come to see me perform. I wasn't just background music for someone else's party, I was the party.

  I had a lot of fun doing the first long video – a collection of my music videos and dance numbers with some interviews and backstage shoots. Dahumada was launching me as a real person with a life – although he wasn't saying anything about my private life – and he decided to show some of the hard work I was doing.

  One day I welcomed the cameraman into the rented home Dahumada had provided for me, and showed my home gym and where I rehearsed and everything. There was no recording studio there and Rashaun had to hide in our room the whole time. Then I was filmed with my dance teacher or while my stylist fitted me with new costumes. Once the cameraman came in the recording studio, to show how the records were born.

  Another day, with my team, we went around Vilas like tourists, showing the entertainment town to the viewers and asking stupid questions. If you saw the video and wondered where I was looking when I looked off camera – well, now you know. Or you can guess. I was looking at Rashaun. You can hear his voice in the video, but he was never shown on camera.

  I wasn't that famous yet, but they allowed me into the dancers' dressing-rooms at the most famous club and casino, which was embarrassing for me – being surrounded by beautiful and adoring women I wasn't interested in.

  I asked Dahumada if we could go to a male strip club as final stop, but he said no. I guess he was launching me as heterosexual star, and he didn't want to ruin my image by showing me drooling over handsome male strippers... So I went with Rashaun after the shooting was done!

  The meganet was bursting with headlines – "A new star is born!" I had just turned twenty-one and was living in a dream.

  6. Zaphadin

  Zaphadin's enthusiasm was contagious. He was hard working and a perfectionist. After trying the low-gravity stage he even asked if he could have prosthetic wings, like First Galactic Dancer Zigaema Angelle. Dahumada said no, he thought wings were for ballet dancers and Zaphadin had a dancing style that wouldn't go with a winged look.

  Zaphadin's disappointment was short-lived and he threw himself into his first galactic tour. Some nights he was so exhausted he would crumble into bed, but he was still happy and in love.

  The success generated from the tour of live shows meant the machine of stardom was in motion. When we went back to Vilas Lok, he had a personal trainer, an assistant, a choreographer, a stylist and I don't know how many other people around him all day. I wrote a few more songs for him, but he was moving in another direction – it was his turn to be carried away by something he was passionate about.

  *

  Fame is a lot of work. Some luck but mostly a lot of sweat and exhaustion and hopping up and down the galaxy and meeting people and... sometimes I didn't even know where I was. I got names mixed up – even my lover's name sometimes escaped me – I was confused most of the time and very tired.

  But I was doing my dream job, so I couldn't quit. I wasn't a mega star yet, just a rising star. That wasn't what we were working on with Dahumada. We wanted Zaphadin to be the King, and we'd make it. Another year, another tour, and I would be the brightest star in the music firmament.

  Every so often Dahumada even allowed me some fun. After the low-gravity stages, I said I'd love to try flying, so he organized a session of hang gliding for me. He even suggested we film it for the next video, but I refused – I wanted a day off, flying in the sky with my better half.

  We went to a nearby resort for air sports and after much pondering about whether I preferred to try hang gliding or paragliding, I decided for what sounded safer. Paragliders might look like parachutes, but they're prone to collapse and carry reserve parachutes. Since I didn't want to end my career so soon splattered on the ground of Vilas Lok, a victim of its gravity, I chose the safer glider.

  So I did some training with Rashaun – we tried the harnesses and decided to get a hang glider with a seated position. We hoped we could find one that carried two people, so we could be together in the air, but it wasn't possible. We listened to our instructor about flying within safe limits, and what happens in bad weather conditions such as high wind or clouds.

  It was a wonderful sunny day when we launched from a hill and found the air currents rising faster than our glider's sink rate. We followed our instructor through thermals and ridge lifts, maneuvering with our triangle control frame and relying on the natural stability of the wings.

  We managed to stay in the air for a couple of hours and it was exhilarating. Following air currents we reached another resort and landed unscratched and blissful. We called Dahumada to send the car to the other place and spent that night cuddling and remembering that wonderful day up in the air.

  "We should go ballooning next time," Rashaun said. "We could make love in the sky."

  "That would be awesome!" I said, dreamy. "I'll ask Dahumada if we can go on a hot hair balloon!"

  "He'll want to film that," Rashaun warned.

  I winced. "I'm a singer, not a reality show guy!" I complained.

  "Tell that to Dahumada," he replied, squeezing me in his arms.

  "Maybe I can ask for a two weeks break," I said, hopeful.

  The morning after I went to Dahumada with my request. He frowned, but I promised to work twice as harder when I came back, so he relented.

  I didn't know then that it would be my last vacation.

  ***

  It took me another four years to realize the honeymoon phase was over. Zaphadin was a star and he didn't have much time for me anymore. He had a whole entertainment machine surrounding him and was busy performing and socializing with the wealthy of the galaxy. Dahumada hadn't renewed my contract, but had bound him for life. Zaphadin hadn't shown me the contract before signing it, but by the time I realized it, it was too late.

  My beloved had trapped himself with that greedy manager and producer who had indeed brought him success, but was squeezing the life out of him. There was no room for me in Zaphadin's entourage and Dahumada had made it clear I wasn't welcome anymore. Since Zaphadin didn't try to stop me, I just left, a few days after his twenty-fifth birthday, which he celebrated without me.

  ***

  Even though I was starting to have a lot of fans, I still loved Rashaun. He had the exclusive on my body. I wanted only him to touch me. I loved his touch and I loved to nestle in his arms and fall asleep. If only I hadn't always been so tired and busy with my career...

  He said he understood. That he didn't mind living in my shadow. As an Ypsilantian man, he'd been brought up knowing he'd always be someone else's shadow – theoretically a wife's, but since he'd managed to escape the marriage trap, he didn't mind being the shadow of his younger lover.

  He wrote the best songs that ever were. When I read his lyrics I could almost heard him saying them, and when I sang them, I often looked at him to make sure I wasn't ruining his beautiful poetry.

  I had many hits with his lyrics. "Like a Lonely Heart", "You've Lost That Feeling", "Lonely Rhapsody", even the dance song "Gonna Make You Shake" stayed at number one for months. His lyrics were good for lounge songs, pop songs, dance songs or ballads – they were happy or melancholic or passionate, and I wished I knew how to produce them myself.

  Somehow I didn't feel complete because I couldn't write my own
songs, but Dahumada said it didn't matter. I was an accomplished performer who could sing, dance and entertain like nobody else, I was young and gorgeous and everybody wanted a piece of me. What did that mean? I didn't need to write my own songs – I was already adored for who I was.

  I don't know when I became Zaphadin to the point that I forgot everything that had happened before. I was the spoiled star with his entourage and his demands who was late for interviews or played hard to get.

  That's when I realized I was becoming something that I didn't like and I wondered why Rashaun hadn't said anything about it. When I asked Sushil where Rashaun was, he shrugged. My personal assistant didn't know where my lover was? I threw a tantrum.

  Sushil ran away and complained to Dahumada. The manager came into my room and said it was time we talked, to reassess our goals.

  I only wanted to nestle against Rashaun and found myself discussing my career with Dahumada.

  7. The dream starts to break

  From this point on what you know of Zaphadin is public. As a celebrity he didn't have a private life anymore and Dahumada pushed his public persona even more after I was gone. He didn't have to hide a not-so-glamorous lover who ruined Zaphadin's reputation of being unreachable. Very famous, always in the news, but unreachable except by the elite.

  What you will read now is what happened behind the scenes, how the dream turned into a nightmare and Zafar Nagarkar slowly died behind the mask that had become Zaphadin, the King of Music. Dahumada made sure every member of Zaphadin's entourage signed a non-disclosure agreement, therefore nobody ever dared saying anything about it. The mighty manager was a scary motherfucker, I'll give him that.

  If I had known how things would turn out for Zafar, I would have stuck by his side.

  *

  Dahumada said Rashaun was gone. I didn't need him and he could only drag me down. Rashaun wasn't an entertainer. Dahumada would find me a glamorous lover if I wanted company in bed. He knew lots of handsome young men who would die to spend a night with me. Or women if I wanted a change.

  I didn't care. I pouted and said I wanted Rashaun back, like a spoiled child who had just lost his favorite toy. I was regressing into childhood and didn't care. I can see now that I had become a self-indulgent bastard.

  He said, "Call him, you'll see. He doesn't want you anymore!" My chest tightened at hearing this. Because I feared it might actually be true, I didn't call Rashaun. I didn't want to hear him tell me he'd had enough of my antics.

  What Dahumada had realized long before I did was that Rashaun was my strength. And for five years he'd worked to pull us apart, so I'd be defenseless against him. I was the vain and naive young man who wanted to be famous, Rashaun was more down-to-earth and smarter than me.

  Rashaun had helped me with the first contract, but as years went by, I stopped consulting him, and trusted Dahumada. I thought he was a sort of father who was working for my own good, I never thought he'd taken me on to screw me.

  Since I couldn't be bothered with the money part, he handled all my finances. He allowed me a lavish lifestyle as long as I performed at my usual heights – and I was getting better with the years. If I wanted something, I only needed to ask.

  But when I asked to have my lover back, I received a resounding "No!" that sent me into a fit of hysterics. I couldn't understand why Dahumada didn't want Rashaun by my side. I told him I needed Rashaun to be at my best, but he said that I was now twenty-five and no, I didn't need anyone to be Zaphadin. That Rashaun Khanna wasn't the right person to stand beside a superstar like Zaphadin. That if I really wanted to show the galaxy that I was human and had a significant other, he'd find me the right person – but that person was not Rashaun.

  I burst into sobs, and he slapped me to calm me down. He said I was being childish. That a megastar shouldn't be attached to anyone. That Zaphadin should remain desirable but unreachable.

  I wouldn't hear any of it, so he dragged me to the bedroom and threw me on the bed while I was still bawling, unable to stop my outburst. It was the first time my mighty manager had denied me something – and the first time he showed his real face too.

  I might be fit and strong, but I was too distraught to fight him. He took me by surprise when he pinned me to the bed with my arm twisted behind my back. I gasped for breath, feeling his arousal against my ass.

  I didn't have time to gather my wits, stop crying and fight him properly. Whispering threats in my ears, he yanked down my pants and tried to fuck me. I struggled all I could, but I was under him, and he was bulky and my arm was twisted and I was in shock, so I couldn't stop him.

  I screamed when he entered me, so he pushed my face onto the pillow, almost choking me. I wanted to die on the spot, feeling betrayed by the whole universe – Rashaun who had abandoned me, Dahumada who was raping me, the entourage who didn't move a finger to help me and the whole goddamn galaxy who knew nothing of what was happening in my posh bedroom that night.

  Dahumada left me there, a broken doll with no strength left to bemoan his cruel destiny. I think I cried some more when he was gone. He hadn't been gentle, unlike Rashaun, and I felt shattered both in body and mind.

  *

  Official news said Zaphadin had bought a mansion on Vilas Lok. But again, only the elite were allowed in the beautiful building on the outskirts of the main town. It was almost a castle, with dozens of bedrooms, a grand ballroom that was bigger than my condo, a recording studio, a low-gravity stage for shooting those magic music videos, and then acres of garden, big swimming pool and all the luxuries only the wealthy can afford.

  It was called Gethpond Castle because it was close to the namesake lake, but soon everybody started calling it Zaphadin's Castle. Even if it had been built by a rich family of Wega barely a century earlier, it became more famous than it had ever been for its most recent occupant.

  Getting an invitation to his private parties was almost impossible or very expensive. You can still find pictures on the meganet, especially that photo shoot Zaphadin did for Entertainer, but it's now closed. The new owners are even more reclusive than he was.

  *

  Dahumada said he owned me. And he did, since I stupidly signed those contracts, trusted him. He could do anything he wanted with me, and most of my money went into his account anyway. He wasn't taking fifteen percent, more the opposite – I was keeping fifteen percent of my earnings.

  Not that I wanted the money, but after Rashaun went home, I wished I could get back my freedom. Stardom didn't appeal to me anymore if I couldn't talk to anyone. Dahumada had isolated me by surrounding me with employees. I didn't trust anyone in the entourage he'd hired. I didn't know whose shoulder I could cry on – besides he threatened me. If I told anyone what had happened, he'd make me look like I had gone crazy. It was his word against mine, and I was the spoiled star while he was the mighty manager.

  So I gave in and let him do what he wanted. After he raped me, Dahumada asked for forgiveness by buying me an expensive house. It was so big I feared I could get lost in it. The first week I barely left the suite I had chosen as a bedroom – a living space that was bigger than Rashaun's apartment.

  The antechamber had a plush couch and lots of thick carpeting, plus a last-generation food-dispenser, just in case I didn't feel like going downstairs to the kitchen. The bedroom itself had a canopied bed, more thick carpets and antique paintings on the walls. The bathroom was as big as Rashaun's living room with all the bathing implements ever invented.

  The castle was a mix of old and new. Old-fashioned architecture with brand new implements. My crew took care of it and me, but I felt lost for most of my first year there. I was a prince – or even a king, since by now I had almost reached the top – but I wasn't happy anymore. Having servants wasn't as fun as it sounds, because none of them were real friends. I couldn't trust them, since they reported to Dahumada on a regular basis. Including Yasin and Sushil, who had been with me since the beginning.

  Dahumada said he loved me, but he was much roug
her in showing it. And sometimes he couldn't refrain from asserting his superiority, repeating that he owned me as if he didn't consider me a person. I was his creature and I had to do his bidding.

  I learned to pretend to be happy, but I often wondered if anyone could see behind my mask. I was Zaphadin, and I wasn't allowed to cry. I was a celebrity and nobody was supposed to know anything about me. I was a mystery – but not even Dahumada seemed to know who I was anymore. I was losing myself in the myth. My dream was turning into a nightmare.

  8. Midway into the nightmare

  During the following five years, Zaphadin became the king of the music business. His videos were more and more elaborate, his costumes richer and more extravagant, his songs were everywhere, but a few critics started to say he was losing credibility. The first two albums had awesome lyrics, but now every new record sounded less convincing. They insinuated that the songs were computer-generated, and wondered what the point was of having a real human being sing them.

  He was still the best dancer in the galaxy and his shows were always sold out. The fans loved him, even if they could barely touch him if they were lucky enough to be in the first row at his show. To prove he wasn't a hologram, he often brushed those hands trying to reach out to him, never stopping to hold any.

  Sassy&Sexy was his last talk show and public interview. The two fiery hosts managed to upset him enough that he burst into tears in front of the cameras. Dahumada apologized on his behalf, saying Zaphadin was tired and needed a break.

  *

  I was split in two. Zafar, who wanted to hide in his room and never come out again, and Zaphadin, the megastar who basked in fan adoration. One half of me wanted to run away from it all, the other stubbornly insisted that I was exactly where I wanted to be, and that I should enjoy what I had. I was lucky, I had made it to galactic stardom, what else could I possibly want?