Followers

by Raziel Reid

  Sam finishes sending a text and places her phone on the table. “I’m a story producer. I work with the cast and crew to create a narrative around the footage we’re shooting.”

  “So it is scripted?”

  “Everyone thinks that, but no. It’s not. I don’t create stories, I just sort of”—Sam smirks—“herd them.”

  Lily takes another sip. A generous one. Old Hollywood style.

  “I don’t know anything about the show. My mom and my Aunt Whitney got in a huge fight way back because my mom was selling stories to the tabloids about Whitney after she married Patrick Paley. They haven’t really talked since.”

  “Well, they spoke this morning. Your aunt called your mom after she heard that you’d been arrested. Whitney’s worried sick!”

  “She is?”

  “I understand your mom’s not currently living in L.A.?” Sam asks.

  Lily shrugs. “She’s a free spirit.”

  Something in Lily tells her that she’s auditioning. She takes another sip of her drink and leans back in the booth. It feels like she’s giving a confessional.

  “I came home on the last day of school and there was a note saying she was out and didn’t know when she’d be back. She wrote it on the cover of one of her tabloids. She used to draw devil horns on Whitney and Patrick posing on the red carpet.”

  “Tragic.” Sam stares at Lily. “How are you getting by?”

  “I got a job lifeguarding this summer so I can pay rent on the trailer. At Zuma. A world away from the Valley.” Lily doesn’t disclose that when she got hired as an L.A. County lifeguard, she requested Zuma Beach because it’s featured so much on Platinum Triangle. She just wanted to feel the warmth of the sun that always seems to shine on TV.

  Sam’s eyes light up. “The lifeguarding angle is so relatable…and the fact that you’ve been forced to take care of yourself because of your mom’s abandonment…. Everyone loves a little family drama.”

  “There’s always been drama with the Rhode sisters. My mom is jealous of Whitney. I guess they were a lot alike growing up. They both went for tall, dark, and bad. My Aunt Whitney just went for tall, dark, bad, and famous.”

  Lily looks up at a framed photo of Spencer Tracy hanging on the wall. “I wonder what it would be like to grow up with a dad like Patrick Paley.”

  “Where’s your dad?” Sam asks. “If you don’t mind me asking? Did you contact him when your mom—”

  “Ran away to Reno with some guy she met on Tinder?” Lily laughs. “My dad’s never been in the picture.”

  “Got it. Moving on. Do you watch the show?”

  “No. At least I tried not to. I didn’t even tell any of my friends that I’m related to the Paleys.”

  “Why not?”

  Lily spins her mai tai on the tabletop.

  “I guess I just didn’t want to be compared to them. I didn’t want to compare myself to them.” She sighs. “It’s been a lonely summer. After my mom left…I found myself binge-watching the show, one episode after the next. I saw the trailer for season 2 last night. Which is what led to me being arrested.”

  Sam chokes on her drink. “Not the first time the show has been blamed for that!”

  “I went out with this guy. He’s been trying to get with me forever. Chris. He’s a senior. He said we were going to a party in Malibu but it was really the house of some guy he follows on Instagram and wanted to rob.”

  “How very Bling Ring,” Sam says. “Is Chris cute? He’d better be cute if you got a mugshot over him!”

  Lily stares back up at the wall of movie stars.

  “He’s one of those Hollywood Chrises, you know? A generic superhero hunk. And that’s what I wanted. A co-star. I wanted to pretend I was going to the kind of party they go to on the show.” She blushes. “I have escapist tendencies.”

  Sam breaks into a big grin. “Then I know just the place for you!”

  fortunefitzroy

  140k followers

  tinapoplawski Gorgeous!!! Love the faux fur

  sasha6asl16 Wow crazy nails

  mollybachmann I feel we could be besties

  zombieatletier @fortunefitzroy GIRL. GIRL! You probably look absolutely stunning when u cry like for u it’s probably diamond dust infused tears

  ap_jid This is who I want to be.

  “Yasss, henny! That Alexis dress is everything.” Fortune FitzRoy air-kisses an arriving guest. “Obsessed.”

  Fortune doesn’t mind working the door for Hailey’s party. This way everyone has to give him attention.

  “Do you do your own makeup?” the girl asks. Fortune can’t remember her name even though he just looked it up on the list. “And I love the faux!” she squeals.

  “Just a li’l something I pulled out of the closet.” Fortune does a twirl in his Matt Sarafa FAKE collection coat, almost knocking off his headset. The lining is a black-and-white satin fabric covered in the “fake” graphic. Fortune’s clothes tell you everything you need to know about him.

  “Don’t forget, the step-and-repeat is to your left when you walk out back,” he says.

  Fortune is like an angel; he’s so androgynous. Definite Slytherin. He’s tapping his @sealedwithakrisnails on a clipboard. Fortune just appeared on feeds one day, and because he’s so shameless, it was like he was always there.

  A lime-green Lamborghini Huracán Coupè pulls into the Paleys’ motor court. Idris Morcos is behind the wheel, wearing an iridescent Gucci logo tee. According to Idris’s dad Ghalib Morcos’s Wiki, the Morcos family are descendants of Daher Al Omer, Prince of Nazareth and the Sheikh of Galilee. The Lambo lurches to a stop and Greta lifts her head from Idris’s lap, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Fortune watches through the windshield as they make out.

  Idris steps out of his car and adjusts the bulge in his shredded Dsquared2 jeans. His arm is around Greta’s shoulders as they cut across the parking lot toward the front door.

  “You look amazing!” Greta gives Fortune a double-kiss. “As always.”

  “Aw, thanks, sis! I love your lip gloss!”

  “What’s up, Fortune? Looking fly, bro.” Idris fist-bumps Fortune. Sealed with a fist.

  “How’s Hailey?” Greta asks. “She sent me a frantic text. Something about her cousin?”

  Fortune is living for this. He leans in conspiratorially, his fur draping off his shoulder.

  “Moving into the pool house,” he says. “And she’s going to be on the show.”

  “Woah. I better go find Hails and keep her away from the dessert table,” Greta says. “She doesn’t handle change very well. Remember when she thought Anna Wintour was leaving Condé Nast? She had rampant bulimia for weeks…”

  Greta disappears into the house, leaving Idris trailing behind. He steps up to Fortune and pets the collar of his fur coat.

  “So, is Hailey’s cousin as hot as her?”

  “What is it about Hailey?” Fortune asks. “You don’t actually believe the vow-of-abstinence scene, do you?” It was an arc on season 1 of Platinum Triangle. Fortune thought it had great comedic value. Hailey could get really righteous about the storyline, though, acting like she really was a virgin. She and her dad did the whole “purity vows” thing, where she pledged to remain a virgin until marriage, and he vowed to “uphold her purity” or whatever. It was a big deal and they did it at Hillsborough Church, which has become a major Hollywood hot spot.

  “Bro, it doesn’t matter what’s real,” Idris says. He leans in and whispers in Fortune’s ear. “It only matters what people think is real.”

  paleyhailey

  1m followers

  brxxuhh27 @paleyhailey and just what do I with you ? You’ve been such a naughty girl, I think some on needs to be taken over my in her lingerie and garter belts stockings and given a spanking.Then then after you all done pouting, you come to uncle “B” sit on my lap and give me a big kiss and tell me how sorry about you are for being such a naughty girl.Then we will see what’s happens if you behave yourself , may
be you will get a reward? Then again maybe not?

  Hailey’s sequin dress looks painted on. It glistens like the city lights in the background of the party. She’s wearing Milly for her milli party. It’s a moment.

  Strobe lights on the influencers and the dance floor. The DJ looks like a shirtless Adam Levine. There are swans wearing diamond-encrusted chokers in the pool. The flashing cameras of photographers light up model genes on the step-and-repeat.

  A Platinum Triangle camera operator follows Hailey as she greets her friends with double-kisses and hateful smiles. She notices her mom over by the selfie wall of white roses, talking on her phone and sipping Champagne. Looks like drama! Hailey leads the camera straight to it.

  “If you can’t get a groupie slut to Planned Parenthood, then what is the point of you?” Whitney is saying. “And as for the so-called exposé in the L.A. Times—kill it! This is the last thing we need right now…”

  When Hailey realizes the drama is a little too real, she looks at the camera guy and drags a finger across her throat. He immediately goes off to film somewhere else. The production knows to keep the Paleys happy. It’s in their contract that if they motion that they don’t want something filmed, then the camera has to back off. Patrick Paley won’t shoot otherwise, and he’s the big ticket. The Paleys are the only family on the show with that much power. Although Kathy Strom came pretty close when she threatened to sue the network for causing Greta emotional distress and capitalizing on her breakdown when she slit her wrists. It was a bold move. Whitney thought for sure the producers were going to drop Kathy for season 2 over it but she got picked up, and with a bigger contract.

  Whitney was secretly relieved—what’s a hero without a villain?

  “I have to go,” Whitney tells the person on the phone. She hangs up and turns to Hailey, flashing a smile. Whitney has the sickest style. She’s wearing Marchesa, which she loves to tell you she was doing before wearing Marchesa became fashionable again.

  “Who was that?” Hailey asks, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at her mother. They’re always on the same team, so Hailey knows what she’s capable of better than anyone.

  “Your father’s agent. He has a new script for him.”

  Whitney checks her phone.

  “I heard from Sam. Lily should be arriving any minute.”

  “About that,” Hailey says. “I’m going to need a padlock on my closet. How long is this Beverly Hillbillies story arc supposed to last, anyway? Shall I ask Brandon if we can shoot at his house?” Brandon Cadogan’s dad owns the Chartwell Estate in old Bel-Air. It was used as the exterior shot on The Beverly Hillbillies.

  Hailey looks across the party at Patrick standing by the bar.

  “What does Daddy think about Lily?” she asks.

  “Besides his appreciation for her taste in modern art?” Whitney chuckles. “He thinks Lily might be a good look for all of us.” She sips her Champagne.

  “You weren’t talking about a new role for Daddy, were you?”

  “Of course.”

  Hailey sighs.

  “What is it this time, Mother? More on-set sexual misconduct rumors? How trite. Is that the real reason you’re so eager to play fairy godmother to Lily’s Cinderella? Trying to distract from Daddy’s latest scandal, are we? Better start the damage control now; we don’t want him to end up in rehab again. He’s already been for ‘anxiety’ and ‘exhaustion.’ Never for being a raging coke whore, of course. So, what next? Maybe an autoimmune disease? They’re so in right now. One of those L diseases. Lupus…or Lyme!”

  Whitney raises her Champagne flute.

  “Or Lily.”

  thejoelstrom

  1.8m followers

  isoldeisolde11o1 When greta slit her wrists she probably used your abs

  that_muse_kid Check out my drawings @thejoelstrom

  ventura_artiste Omg I’ve been following his videos since I was three @realjustinalso

  itsericaqueen Did you know? Here in the Philippines you’re photo is here everywhere in the barbershop and you’re the model

  luna_alix Are you sad??

  Joel’s Porsche Targa pulls up to the curb outside the Paleys’ house in Trousdale Estates. The car was a sweet-sixteen birthday present from his dad. Greta got a car, too, but she refused it. Just like she’s refusing to see their dad since the transition. Greta’s car is in the garage at their dad’s new place in Malibu. A G-Wagon, like Greta’s always wanted.

  It was Joel who had to tell their dad that Greta wouldn’t accept the car. Joel’s biggest fear this past year has been that his dad might commit suicide. And he just knows it would be, like, Jessica killed herself? Let’s do the show anyway!

  Joel stays in his idling Targa trying to muster up the will to enter the party. He’s anxious. That’s trendy.

  A ping comes into his phone. @celiadaniz slips into his DMs.

  celiadaniz Hi joel!!

  celiadaniz How are you

  celiadaniz You’re so hot

  celiadaniz Sent a photo.

  celiadaniz Sent a photo.

  celiadaniz Sent a photo.

  celiadaniz I really want to date you!!

  Joel looks at the nudes. He almost replies, mostly out of habit, but then it dawns on him that he doesn’t want to. Joel feels sad.

  He’s listening to a classic rock station. “The Great Pretender” starts playing. He leans his head back against the seat and closes his eyes.

  While he was surfing this morning, waiting for a wave, he was flat on his board and his mind became so clear. His pineal gland (his “third eye,” according to Sean) was literally cracking open and ripping out of his forehead. Sean says it’s the house of the soul, and when he’s in the water, Joel’s soul is at peace for a change.

  Joel finally turns off the ignition and steps out of the car, just as a black SUV pulls up to the Paleys’ gate. There’s a girl in the backseat. She has blond hair pulled into a ponytail and she’s staring out the window. She and Joel lock eyes, and it’s like he’s back on his board, suspended between the air and the water.

  As the SUV glides through the gate, Joel’s distorted reflection slides off its sleek exterior.

  Joel heads up the driveway, passing Fortune FitzRoy working the door with a line of guests standing behind a red velvet rope. Joel spots the girl standing in the middle of the driveway, staring up at the front of the house. There’s something about her, like she doesn’t belong here either.

  “You here for the party?” Joel asks as he walks up to her.

  She keeps staring up at the house. “It looks so different on the show.”

  “For security reasons. They use the facade of a house in, like, Los Feliz.”

  “Of course they do.”

  She turns and looks at him. Joel sees the moment of recognition, and there’s this fear/dread thing that overcomes him whenever he’s recognized. But she’s chill. She just blinks and looks back at the house.

  “You wanna head in?” Joel asks.

  “I’m supposed to wait…” Her voice trails off as they see Platinum Triangle crew members coming out of the house.

  “Okay, let’s get you mic’d!” Sam says. She’s with the audio guy, who is untangling a mic pack. “Whitney and Hailey are going to meet you in the living room.”

  “What?” Joel is taken aback. “Sam, no one said anything about shooting tonight. I’m probably not even staying long. This isn’t really my scene.”

  “You’re right,” Sam says. “It’s not. It’s Lily’s.”

  The mic wire drops down the back of Lily’s shirt and she jumps.

  Sam smiles at Joel.

  “Your new co-star.”

  lily rhode

  no results found

  “Just pretend the camera isn’t there,” Sam says over her shoulder as they go through the Paleys’ house into the living room, where a Platinum Triangle camera is waiting for them.

  “Not there?” Lily asks. Not only is there a reality-show TV camera pointed at her, but sh
e stops in front of an art piece hanging on the wall—it’s a blown-up image of paparazzi cameras by Terry Richardson.

  “My PA just texted that she has eyes on Whitney.” Sam shoots off a text. “I’m going to go greet her and bring her to you. We good?”

  She lowers her phone and looks at Lily, still staring at the picture.

  “How much?” Lily asks.

  “How much what?”

  “I’m assuming my mom had to sign a release if I’m going to appear on the show, since I’m a minor?” Lily turns to look at Sam. “So, what exactly am I worth?”

  Sam opens her mouth as if to deny it, but quickly deflates.

  “Twenty-five thousand dollars and a Prada purse.”

  Lily feels like she’s just been slapped. Like during the epic fight between Whitney and Kathy Strom in the trailer for season 2. She’s not surprised, but it still hurts.

  She looks back at the Terry Richardson as Sam heads off to herd Whitney. There’s a switch at the bottom of the frame. Lily flicks it and the piece comes alive, cameras flashing and making clicking noises.

  Lily looks straight into the Platinum Triangle camera filming her.

  It’s so disorienting being in this house after seeing it on TV. She’s fantasized about this moment. She just always pictured she’d be wearing a Jovani gown when it happened, and not the same tank top and shorts she wore during a night spent in jail.

  She hears indistinct chatter and the sound of heels clicking against the floor before Whitney bursts into the living room. Whitney looks so much like Lily’s mom it momentarily paralyzes her. But her Aunt Whitney is like the after version. She’s had so much work done.

  Whitney throws her arms around Lily and pulls her into a hug. “It’s so good to see you, Lily!”

  “Hi, Aunt Whitney,” Lily says shyly. The clicking of the cameras from the picture suddenly seems so loud her ears are ringing.

  “You’ve had quite the insane twenty-four hours, girl!” Whitney says, pulling back and looking Lily over. “But you look great! Your tan is insane.”