She Died Famous

by Kyle Rutkin

“And what about the video?”

  She glanced over at the bed and smiled.

  “I’ll wait till you’re ready. Or when you act out again. Or when you decide you’ve had enough.”

  I swallowed.

  “And then I’ll post it.” Her face twisted into a sadistic smile. “Now wouldn’t that be a fucking headline?”

  Lizzy: I’ll tell you what happened. I was there. She gave him a second chance, a third chance, a fourth chance…who could count at that point? That’s just who she was. Kelly always saw the best in people. All it took was one sob story. The author had a million of those. But deep down, it still came back to the same thing. She wanted the abuse. She wanted the knife to dig a little deeper. I guess it’s proof that no amount of fans, money, attention—none of it could fill that void.

  Jez: Don’t you see? She was the princess with the golden heart. She was healing his wounds. She was making him whole. One day you’ll understand. Everything Kelly did was for a reason. She had to strengthen his armor. The final battle was nearing.

  The Real Kelly Trozzo

  TheInsideJuice.com Interview 2019

  INSIDEJUICE: Did you have an abortion?

  TROZZO: I did.

  INSIDEJUICE: How did Noah react?

  TROZZO: Oh please. Not a day after I broke the news to Barry, Noah tried to save his career by breaking up with me in my trailer. He said we needed to cool things down. A little late for that. But it didn’t matter, Noah was written out of the show. We had a dramatic goodbye on set, surrounded by a studio audience, saying our farewells on the same couch he fucked me on. My tears in the episode were real, though I was too doped up to truly feel them.

  The cast and crew tried their best to help me, but the darkness came on with a vengeance. I lived in this constant state of fear. I was sick. And just like my mother, I found solace in things that numb, specifically opiates. Toward the end, I couldn’t get through my lines, or make any public appearances. That’s when the producers decided to change direction.

  Lizzy Loves . . . I understood why they did it. I was a liability. I get it. Things were bad. On the last day of filming, I was the pathetic girl who took enough pills to fall asleep behind a prop on set. And when I woke up, I heard the voices of the two most important men in my life. I can hear them so clearly.

  First, Noah: “I’ve done everything you’ve asked.”

  Then Barry: “No. I asked you to get close to her so we could control her, not make things more difficult. I didn’t ask you to get her fucking pregnant.”

  Noah tried to interject and convince Barry that he could bring me back from oblivion, but he wasn’t hearing it. Barry said: “The show is done. Maybe I pushed her too far, but I have to get rid of her now. She’s weak.” He paused for a second as if he knew I was listening. “Just like her druggie mother.”

  The Blog of Kaleb Reed

  (Continued)

  The driver who killed my brother was a tattoo artist. He got a measly one-year sentence for involuntary manslaughter. His blood alcohol content was right at the legal limit. The DA said his hands were tied. My dad couldn’t use his influence to keep him behind bars.

  I was eager for his release.

  It was a cold day in February, and I was waiting for him in the parking lot outside his tattoo parlor. Bob was sitting next to me in the passenger seat. He had led me down a dark road that ended here. Raindrops fell on my windshield. I saw the man exit the building. His face was pudgy, and he had a scar on the top of his shaved head.

  Bob tapped my shoulder. Do it. My black hood went up, my steps quickened. I approached the man, wearing all the pain of my past. He turned around when I was only feet from him. A look of dread plastered his face.

  He must have known.

  I was there to kill him.

  On that cold, rainy day, the man who killed my brother turned to me with fear in his eyes. He looked around for help, but there was no one there to save him. I pulled my hood down. I wanted him to see my face.

  My first punch hit his throat. He fell to the ground. My kneecap split his lip open. He tried to swing back, but I grabbed his hand and bent his wrist back. He cried and whimpered in pain.

  “Justin Reed. Remember that name?”

  He looked up in in agony, shock.

  “That was the kid you killed.” I twisted his wrist harder. “That was my brother.”

  Another punch. And another. And another.

  Nothing calmed the anger. It scared me that I couldn’t stop. I didn’t know where this darkness came from. But it was there. Pouring out. And it made me powerful. Another punch. And another. My wrist snapped. The bone broke.

  I dropped to the ground, screaming. The man gasped for air, his face battered, soaked in blood.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he yelled as blood poured from his open wounds. He leaned up against the brick building, shaking his head. Red blood mixed with rain on the pavement.

  I picked myself up and glared at him. The anger had deflated, but it was still there. Maybe if I’d finished the job, the shadows would have released me. I ran to the car. I pounded the steering wheel and cried for my brother, for the life I wanted to leave behind. I didn’t flee. I waited for my fate in the parking lot. Bob stared at me with disappointment.

  The police arrived ten minutes later. A crowd had gathered around the tattoo parlor. They pulled me out of the car and took me away in handcuffs. I had gone there to take his life. I had only managed to commit assault.

  But I was capable of that type of darkness.

  I could kill.

  The Real Kelly Trozzo

  TheInsideJuice.com Interview 2019

  INSIDEJUICE: What happened after you were fired from the show?

  TROZZO: Haven’t you seen the tabloids? I partied every night. My pain became a public spectacle.

  INSIDEJUICE: But then you disappeared from the public eye for the better part of a year. Did you go to rehab?

  TROZZO: No.

  INSIDEJUICE: Then where?

  TROZZO: I was holed up in my house.

  INSIDEJUICE: For all that time?

  TROZZO: Pretty much.

  INSIDEJUICE: Did anyone visit you, try to help you? Your friends, co-stars, Barry Monroe?

  TROZZO: Lizzy tried to get me out of that house. My manager also came by…once.

  INSIDEJUICE: How did that go?

  TROZZO: I was in my tower when he came. You have no idea how happy I was to hear him shout my name from the entrance. Even after everything that happened—even after he destroyed my will to live and made me get rid of my baby—I wanted to forgive him. I wanted him to reach out and be a father, a mentor, anything. At least acknowledge everything I did for him. Or pretend to care. Instead, he said: “Pull your shit together.” And he looked me in the eye and said harshly, “I didn’t raise you to be a fucking quitter like your mom.”

  I can only imagine what he saw. My hair matted in knots, my eyes swollen and red. Trust me, I wanted to be strong. But he was right. I was my mother. I was weak. Because as soon as he said it, I burst into tears. I should have known what would happen next. The more I cried, the more disgusted he became. Finally, he got up off the couch and headed for the door. “I’m sorry I came.” Then right before he walked out, he said, “Hopefully, your friend Lizzy can pick up the slack.”

  I wouldn’t see the light of day for another six months. I would have to die and be reborn. But I’ll never forget those words. I’ll never forgive him for what he did. He sent me to that tower to die.

  The Blog of Kaleb Reed

  (Continued)

  We were lying in bed, still breathing heavily, the hotel sheets in disarray. It was the morning of Kelly’s concert at Madison Square Garden.

  Kelly was quiet, and I pinned her arms against the pillows and kissed her. I ran my fingers along the scar, feeling the protruded skin on her lower forearm. I put my lips to it, and I felt her shudder. When I looked up, a tear rolled down her cheek. I flinched. My dad used to show me hi
s hand when there were tears. He showed anger when I showed weakness. Even at the hospital, next to my brother’s lifeless body. He glared at me. Don’t you dare cry. This was your fault.

  I tapped the scar. “What happened here?”

  I met Kelly’s frightened gaze. I wanted to be better.

  She wrapped her arms tightly around me, and I whispered, “You can tell me.”

  She kissed me back but didn’t respond.

  I added, “You don’t have to.”

  “Is this for the book, or do you want to know?”

  I didn’t hesitate. “I want to know.”

  I rubbed her hands, her forearms, her neckline. She stared up at the ceiling.

  “I tried to kill myself…after my TV show ended…after I was betrayed. I locked myself inside my tower. Just like the princess. And every night, evil came to devour my soul. That’s when I realized that none of it mattered—the fame, attention, nothing. For the first time in years, there was no concert to play, no role to act, no sense of self. Just darkness. And I was alone. Every night, I would scream and scream, and no one heard me, Kaleb. I became the monster I feared, and I wanted to die…

  “I woke up and took pills. Slept, then took more. I hoped each day would be my last. I prayed for someone to save me. But no one came. All the screenplays, all the roles I had been promised, they were all lies. There was no Prince Charming to climb the tower and rescue me. There was no humble knight, no dashing Greek god. I stopped believing in fairy tales.

  “Then one night, I picked myself up out of the tub. I walked naked through the house, with water dripping on the marble floors. I went to the kitchen and got a knife. I remember the moonlight shooting through the window and reflecting off the blade. I hacked away at one side of my hair, watching the wet locks fall onto the kitchen tile. I had given up. I fell on my knees, screaming to God, with the knife still in my grip. I let my demons take the reins. I had made the decision to kill myself.”

  I was fixated on her every word.

  She rolled over and looked me straight in the eyes.

  “But God gave me three gifts that night. The first was my reflection—my blue eyes shimmering in the metal blade of the knife. The gift was in the form of light, this last piece of my old self being stripped away. I was no longer the girl staring back. And when it happened, I can’t explain, but there was this final sense of dread, and then it all melted away into nothingness.

  “I remember screaming and laughing, surrounded by this overwhelming bliss…But just when I thought I was free, my shadows made one last stand, and that moment of peace vanished as quickly as it came. The monster was fighting for his life. He was angry because he was exposed. So I made one cut down my arm with the knife. I had cut deep, and I knew it.

  “But then came the second gift. As blood dripped down my arm, the darkness stopped in its tracks. Somehow the pain had restored my connection, like the veil had been lifted in its entirety, transmuting every ounce of fear to pure joy, all the fog and darkness in my mind, poof, gone.”

  I put my hand on Kelly’s cheek. She leaned in.

  “Don’t you see? The blood was a reminder. Everything good flowed through my veins, like rays of light reconnecting to its source. I fell to my knees, completely naked, with blood smeared all over, and I laughed. The demons were gone. The monster had been slain. I was free, Kaleb. My soul had been cleansed. I had been reborn.

  My hands went back to rubbing the scar. “What happened next?”

  “It’s all so fuzzy, but I remember lying on the floor in peace, blood flowing across the tile. I remember feeling tired and weak and my vision fading. But right before I closed my eyes, a great burst of white light jolted me awake, and then God’s final gift emerged—an angel was with me that night, Kaleb. She held my hand and told me it was all going to be okay. I woke up to sun shining through the hospital window.

  “It was a miracle. Two days later, I came back home with bandages on my arm and my chopped hair tied in a ponytail. I was myself for the first time in my life. I was ready to return the three gifts that were bestowed upon me. I wanted to give back to my fans. I wanted to lead them. I remember smiling a lot that day.”

  “But how. . .”

  “An angel, Kaleb.” She smiled, and her eyes met mine.

  We were quiet after that.

  Before she drifted off to sleep, she asked, “Will you put that story in our book?”

  I kissed her forehead. “Of course.”

  A sea of shrieking fans devoured Madison Square Garden. Their screams vibrated through concrete walls. The stadium shook.

  The war cries of her devoted.

  They chanted.

  “KTROOPS.”

  “KTROOPS.”

  “KTROOPS.”

  Bright lights illuminated an empty stage as Kelly’s voice reverberated through the speakers.

  “You shall never dim our light.

  You shall never hide our strength.

  You shall never steal our worth.

  You shall never drown our voice.

  But if you do. . .”

  The arena chanted back: “Then we’re coming for you!”

  “Coming for you.”

  “Coming for you.”

  “Coming for you.”

  Darkness.

  Screams.

  A spotlight of the K and T logo zipped across the stage. Kelly was still nowhere to be seen. The projector behind the stage came alive with animation: a disfigured man. He had very little skin. Patches of tendons and muscle covered his skull. A crown of gold sat atop his head. The dark and twisted voice of the floating head pulsed across the stadium:

  “CHAIN ME TO A ROCK

  BABY, THROW AWAY THE KEY

  THE MONSTER’S ON THE LOOSE

  AND HE’S COMING FOR ME

  HE’S COMING FOR ME

  HE’S COMING FOR ME

  THE MONSTER’S ON THE LOOSE

  AND HE’S COMING FOR ME”

  The beat dropped.

  A circular door on the stage opened, and Kelly rose up, chained to an artificial rock. Pandemonium. She was dressed like a princess turned hostage, wearing a linen toga, ripped and burned, a gold belt fastened around her waist and glittery gold sandals strapped to her feet. Her hair was tousled and wavy. Backup dancers dressed in green scaly costumes funneled across the stage. The swarm of sea monsters danced in unison, slithering toward Kelly. They fell to their hands and knees, crawling toward the rock, clawing up her body, hissing.

  At center stage, Kelly fought the restraints. The screen behind her displayed a battle scene. Perseus flew across the horizon. A pixelated monster rose up from the sea, blowing fire across the screen. Real flames erupted from the stage, illuminating the faces of her enamored fans.

  Then, darkness.

  “He’s coming for me,” Kelly whispered. “He’s coming for me.”

  The spotlight shone on her. The stadium hailed. She sauntered away from the rock, chains still encircling her wrists. Cell phones hit the sky.

  “You can stab me in the back

  You can push me back to sin

  Use me till there’s nothing left

  Serve me to the sea again.”

  The choreographed monsters danced behind her. The evil king’s face returned to the screen. He had reclaimed his former glory. He had a thick beard covering his fat cheeks and dark beady eyes that followed Kelly as she sang.

  “You can never let me go

  You can never break my chains

  Bring me joy, bring me pain

  Bring me hope and private planes.”

  The king faded.

  The sea monster’s fiery eyes appeared on the projector. Screams ripped through the crowd. Kelly fell to her knees in the glow of the monster’s eyes.

  “So burn me to the ground

  Baby, torch me with your lies

  ’Cuz I’m rising from the ashes

  And I’m coming for the prize.”

  The emotions poured out of her. She screa
med:

  “’Cuz I do it all for you

  I will face the night for you.”

  She pointed to the crowd and they chanted back:

  “I will give my life for you.

  I will break my chains for you.”

  Kelly sang:

  “I will fight the beast for you

  I will shine my light for you.”

  Kelly got up from her knees, the yellow eyes of the monster still fixed on her. Audio of sinister laughter rolled across the stadium. Then the animation faded to darkness. As the beat played on, a life-size animatronic monster rolled out onto the stage. A dragon-like beast with green scales. Glowing eyes. Horns atop its head. The monster craned its neck toward the crowd and then turned to face Kelly.

  “Chain me to the rock, baby

  Throw away my key

  The monster’s on the loose

  And I will slay that fucking beast.”

  She snapped the chains off the rock and flames devoured the entire stage, whipping wildly across the beast. The fire reflected off her pupils. She looked out at the crowd and belted out the words like a battle cry: