by Jen Calonita
“Don’t be insane,” Austin says. “You couldn’t have stopped what happened!”
“I’ve jeopardized my career again,” I sob. “I feel like it was some cosmic force that sent all this trouble to punish me for being jealous of not just Alexis, but everyone around me.”
Austin gives me a questioning look and I can tell he’s confused.
“I’m jealous of you guys!” I feel so small even saying it. “Yes, I love hitting the red carpet and signing autographs and being a celebrity, but when Alexis started getting so much attention on the show, I freaked. I felt like I was being pushed aside. Then you guys started talking about college and moving across the country to go to school and I guess the little green monster inside me started to rear its ugly head about that too. All I could think about was being left behind — by Hollywood, by you and Liz. What if you guys go off to college, and I don’t, and then we have nothing in common anymore?” I sniffle. “What if I do go to college and then my career dries up because Alexis becomes the star who takes my place?”
“I didn’t know you felt like we were squeezing you out.” Austin looks aghast. “I don’t want you to feel that way.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I backpedal. “It’s me. I feel like I’m losing everything I care about.”
“You are not losing everything.” He grabs me by the shoulders and looks deep into my eyes. I resist the urge to squirm away. “Even if I go three thousand miles away to college, you’re not going to lose me, Burke. I’ll be home on breaks, and by that time you’ll probably be doing so well you’ll have a private jet at your disposal and can come visit me anytime you want.” We both laugh. “And you’re forgetting something very important — we’ll always have these.” He holds up his cell phone and the Sidekick I gave him months ago. I smile.
“We’re going to be fine,” Austin assures me. “It’s you you need to worry about. Don’t freak out about what everyone around you is doing. Pick one project to focus on. If you want to learn how to drive, you will. If you want to ace the SATs and go to college, you’ll do that too. You just can’t do it all at once.” He smiles. “Even Kaitlin Burke can’t do that. But if you want my opinion?” I nod. “The first thing I’d do is deal with Alexis. Show her how a real FA star acts.”
How can someone so amazing have so much confidence in me? “As usual, you know exactly what to say,” I tell Austin and kiss him fiercely. “Thanks for helping me see the bigger picture.”
If I want to keep my job, then that’s what I should focus on first. Then I can figure out what I want to do next. On my own. I’ve spent so much time lately being jealous of Alexis’s new fame, or Lizzie’s freedom to move to New York, that I stopped seeing what was right in front of me. I have a great life, whether I go to college or not, and I have to stop worrying so much about what everyone around me is doing and start worrying more about what I want for myself.
Austin kisses me back. “You’re welcome.”
I look up at the starry sky. “I’m going to figure out a way to deal with this thing with Alexis once and for all. After that, the future is wide open.”
SATURDAY, 11/9
NOTE TO SELF:
Call Sky. Discuss game plan 4 Monday.
Fifteen: Truce and Consequences
The large silver clock above the lighted mirrors in the FA makeup room may say 5:47 AM, but Sky and I are wide awake, have had breakfast (Special K for her, Froot Loops for me), and are in our makeup chairs being blown out by our hair stylists, Paul and Raphael. Shelly and Mallory, our makeup artists, are at the ready to do their part too.
“Paul, isn’t it nice to see cheerful faces in the morning?” Raphael styles Sky’s raven hair flat.
The two of us are humming along to the John Mayer CD I popped in the stereo. Since we usually have the same call times, we’ve always fought over makeup mood music. But ever since our karaoke session and career powwow with our publicists two weeks ago, our musical tastes have been in sync.
“I’m enjoying the positive energy around here,” Paul agrees, curling my hair into tight ringlets that look remarkably like his own short bouncy brown mane. “Catfights before nine AM are so last year.” I tickle his tight black D&G T-shirt–clad arm as Paul reaches over me to grab the Bumble and Bumble hair spray.
I have to admit, it is nice to avoid the early-morning catfight. Our friendly strategy has not only made my life easier, it’s made everyone’s lives better on set too. We’ve been arriving early, staying late for wardrobe fittings, and making sure the only exchanges we have with Alexis are scripted ones. The best part is that our good behavior has made Alexis’s increasingly obnoxious behavior stand out. The other day, she staged a foot-stomping, blood-boiling rant at our crafty guy because he ran out of mini M&Ms. Apparently Alexis was convinced Sky and I stole her stash just to upset her, but begged him not to tell anyone because we had “so many other problems already.” Thankfully, crafty wasn’t buying it and soon news of Alexis’s tantrum was all over the set. HA!
Speaking of candy . . . I reach into my Dooney and Bourke purse and pull out a bag of Razzles. I pop two in my mouth and wordlessly offer some to Sky. She pours herself a handful and gives the remainder back to me.
“You know, K, calling a truce with you has done wonders for my body,” Sky tells me as she stares at her reflection in the mirror. “I haven’t had a blemish in a week, I started eating carbs again, and last night I actually had eight hours of sleep.”
Paul tilts my head left to finish curling my hair. “Wait — if you had eight hours sleep that means you didn’t go out last night. That has to be a first,” I joke.
“You look more relaxed around me too, K,” Sky points out. “Your shoulders aren’t as locked up as they used to be. You’ve always reminded me of the Hunchback of Notre Dame.”
I purse my lips. “Okay, I admit it. Getting along with you is not the tortured hell I thought it would be. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
Sky gives me a knowing smirk. “Touché. But since all this pathetic togetherness seems to work for us, we might want to consider extending our peace agreement beyond just getting rid of the shrew.”
Nadine clears her throat at the mere mention of anything having to do with Alexis. Our camps have warned us to stay off the topic whenever we’re within fifty feet of the sound-stage.
“Sky Mackenzie, are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” I ask.
“Well, I never thought I’d see the day,” Shelly exclaims as she overhears the exchange. Unlike most people, Shelly can pull off six AM. Her round face looks thin with her hair pulled back in chopsticks and bronzer on her cheeks. And she’s wearing a white corduroy blazer and jeans that shrink her size fourteen body to a size ten. I’m about to tell her how good she looks when Melli walks in.
“What are you two doing here so early again?” Melli yawns. She shuffles into the room wearing last night’s pajamas and no makeup. All of us like to arrive wearing something casual. I’m in my favorite oversize worn green turtleneck sweater and khaki cargos and Sky is in black velour hip-huggers and a wrinkled pink baby tee. “I thought your call time wasn’t until eight this morning,” Melli says.
“We’re trying to be on our best behavior,” I tell her, giving her a kiss on the cheek before she settles into the chair to my left.
Melli puts her oversize Louis Vuitton on the floor and unzips the bag. “It’s nice to see my girls back in fighting form. I think you’re both handling yourselves beautifully under all this scrutiny and I hope you know I’m a hundred percent behind you.”
I feel myself blush. A compliment from Melli means more to me than any Emmy nomination ever could.
Melli pulls out an envelope and hands it to me. “I know it’s early, but these are the new pictures of the boys and the baby.”
“I can’t believe she’s two, Melli,” I marvel, looking at the super-chubby toddler in the Juicy Couture sweats.
“Neither can I.” Melli sighs. “I feel li
ke I’ve missed all her big moments.”
“What do you mean?” Sky asks as I hand her the pictures. “Doesn’t your nanny bring her by for lunch every day?”
Melli nods. Her eyes look sad. “It’s not the same thing, girls. You’ll see when you become mothers.”
Sky moans. “Stop making me feel old, Melli,” she complains. “I’m already older than Burke.”
The dressing room door swings open and I tense up, thinking it is Alexis. That’s another reason Sky and I have been getting here early — to avoid two hours of sitting next to her in a twelve-by-twelve room. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see it’s Tom, but then I see the grave look on his face. Uh-oh.
“Hey, girls,” he says.
He turns to Melli. “I need a moment alone with you when you’re done. I spent two hours on the phone last night with you-know-who.”
Sky and I exchange hurried glances.
“What did he say?” Melli asks breathlessly.
“He kept trying to talk me out of it, but I told him I was firm,” Tom tells Melli. “I said we’d meet with him to discuss it over breakfast.” Tom senses us staring and turns around. I quickly pretend I’m staring at the tacky vase filled with flowers on the makeup counter. “Girls, I’m glad you’re both here. I was hoping we could finally sit down and talk this morning. I feel awful that I’ve been so busy.”
Finally! Now we can tell Tom everything.
“No problem, boss,” Sky says.
Nadine coughs. She’s been getting a real kick out of Sky’s attempts to be nice.
“Do you want Sky to go first or me?” I ask.
“Actually I wanted to meet with both of you together if you don’t mind,” Tom says frankly. His face is blank and I can’t read him. Together? Why together? This doesn’t sound good. “Does nine-thirty work for both of you? I’ve got a half-hour window before I have to be on set.” We both nod wordlessly.
“What was that about?” Shelly asks when Tom leaves.
“I don’t know,” I admit and immediately feel my shoulders tense up.
“Relax, okay?” Sky tells me sternly. “Mel, tell her to relax. I’m sure it’s just to hear us tell our side of the story together.”
“Um hm,” Melli says, but her mind is obviously elsewhere. Melli stares at her grande cup of Peet’s coffee, letting the steam from the flap hit her in the face while her stylist combs out her long black hair.
Once we got through hair and makeup, we made an emergency run to crafty. (Pete hadn’t unpacked the chocolate yet, but we told him the brownies were a matter of life and death.) Now we’re on our way to see Tom. I feel like I need my trusty paper bag again. I’m so going to throw up.
“I’m afraid we’re about to be ambushed,” I whisper to Sky. “We should call Laney and Amanda beforehand, don’t you think?”
“And tell them what?” Sky hisses. “That Tom wants to meet with us? We’ve been asking to meet with him. They’ll think we’re nuts.”
Sky has a habit of making me feel like I’m borderline crazy (or is it playing the rational role to my paranoid hysteria? Whatever.), but I can tell she’s worried too. She took three brownies while I only took one. The last time Sky tried to out-dessert me we were in kindergarten. She’s been on a diet ever since.
“But he’s met with everyone else alone,” I say. “Hi, Luis,” I wave to a crew member walking past us. “Why would he ask for us to go together? Do you think someone from the network will be there? They only come down during contract negotiations or if someone is being fired. We have to be prepared, Sky. I’m not leaving this set without a fight.”
“Annmarie, that sweater looks amazing on you,” Sky tells a passing crew person. “I hate this,” she whines and stops short. “I can’t do the Miss Goody Two-shoes act like you do. It’s just not me. If Tom wants to fire me, then let him fire me.”
“You don’t mean that,” I scold.
“I do,” Sky says. “For the first time in my life, I’m not the one who’s making everyone’s life miserable and I’m getting punished for it just the same. What’s the use? You are who you are, K. Why fight it?”
I think of Austin’s pep talk. “That’s not true, Sky. You just have to figure out what you want and make it happen.”
Sky glares at me. “Who are you? Dr. Phil?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m trying to help.”
“Well, try harder,” Sky huffs.
I have an idea. “I know what will cheer you up. What if we play Pass the Carrot during this morning’s scene?”
HOLLYWOOD SECRET NUMBER FIFTEEN: When stars are tied up filming one scene for hours, we can get creative with our ways to pass the time. One thing we like to do is play what I call Pass the Carrot. During taping, we try to find new ways to hide objects in our clothing without Tom noticing. Or we try to pass an item, like a cookie or a pen or a carrot (get it?), without disrupting anyone. The game helps when we’re shooting our umpteenth camera angle for a hectic family dinner scene.
“You’ve never invited me to play that game before,” Sky sniffs.
“That’s because I never liked you enough to play it,” I remind her. “But maybe this once, I’ll let you play with me and Trevor.” Sky grins. We head to the stairs in the back of the building that will lead us to the administrative wing of FA. Tom’s office is a plush corner one with huge windows that overlook the lot. It’s pretty quiet back there, which means no one will hear me begging for my job. As we reach the door to the stairs, we see Max, the show’s cutest writer.
“Hi, Max!” Sky says, sounding flirty. At the mere mention of his name, Max jumps so high he practically hits his head on the high ceiling.
Max’s dark brown hair is hanging in his face and when he pushes it away, I can see the beads of sweat dripping down his tan face. “Oh, hey, girls,” he says with a small grin. “What are you two doing over here?”
“We have a meeting with Tom,” I explain. Max nods. I wonder if he’s sick. He’s usually a big flirt and today he seems very quiet. “Are you okay? I’m sure the writers’ room is pretty stressful right now, huh?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Max says, absentmindedly tugging his hair. “It’s awful. We can’t wait for the interrogations to be over, you know?”
“Do they have any leads?” Sky asks hopefully. “They must suspect someone at this point. Does anyone have a motive?”
Max shakes his head. “I don’t know . . . I don’t think so . . . this whole thing was probably someone’s idea of a practical joke and now their career is going to be ruined because of it.”
“Joke?” The hairs on my arm stand up. “Some joke,” I snap. “Whoever wrote it canned our characters. I’d hardly call that funny.”
“You’re right,” Max says quickly. “I’m sorry, Kaitlin. I’m sorry the whole thing happened to you two. Listen, you guys better get going. Don’t want to keep the boss waiting.” He smiles. “I’ve got to get back to the writers’ room myself.”
The writers’ room is clear across the building. What’s he’s doing over here? Maybe he just had his own tête-à-tête with Tom and doesn’t want to talk about it.
“Maybe we can chat about all this later, say, over coffee?” Max adds.
My cheeks flush. Now I feel silly. I can’t believe I snapped at Max. He’s always been so nice to me. Like two weeks ago when he brought me an iced coffee because I looked tired. I’m about to apologize when I hear her.
“MAXIE POO, WHERE ARE YOU?” Alexis comes from the opposite corner and I see Max’s face pale.
Maxie Poo?
“What are you two doing up here?” Alexis demands. She is wearing a pink cashmere turtleneck and barely visible jeans that are tucked into thigh-high black boots. Her red hair is smoothed under a black velvet headband. She doesn’t look happy to see us, but what else is new?
“We’re talking to Max.” I point out the obvious.
“Why would you two need to talk to Max?” Alexis seems anxious.
“None of your business,” Sky
says. “Why do you need to talk to Maxie Poo?”
“She doesn’t,” Max says at the same time Alexis says, “I don’t.” They look at each other.
“I just mean, don’t worry, girls,” Max says, cracking a lopsided grin. “There’s enough of me to go around. Now, listen, I’ve got a lot of work to do this morning so I’ll catch you all later, okay?” I could swear he gives Alexis a look before he walks away, but I’m not sure. “Have a good meeting.”
“Meeting?” Alexis asks, looking nervous. “What meeting? Who’s having a meeting?”
“It’s one that doesn’t involve you,” I tell her. I grab Sky’s arm and lead her to the staircase before Alexis can say anything else. I start ascending it quickly and Sky pulls me back.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“I just thought of something,” she says. She takes off her shoes, tiptoes down the steps, and peeks around the corner.
“What are you looking at?” I whisper. “Is Alexis still there?”
Sky ignores me. Then suddenly she starts waving her arms frantically. “Come quick! I knew it!” she whispers. “I knew Max was acting weird.”
I quickly slip out of my boots and down the stairs too. Sky makes room for me to look and I peek around the door frame.
What the . . . ?
Halfway down the hall, Alexis and Max are clearly in the middle of a heated argument. Alexis keeps trying to grab his hand and Max keeps pushing her away. Alexis keeps touching him. She grabs his hand again, caresses his shoulder, tries to hug him, and then she KISSES HIM! ON THE MOUTH! AND HE KISSES HER BACK!
EEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWW!
It doesn’t last long though. Max pushes her away and storms off. Alexis quickly races after him.
UGH. What does Max see in her? I mean, yeah, she’s kinda beautiful, I guess, and has a great body, but she’s catty and backstabbing. Max seems like such a weird choice for Alexis. She seems like the type to be jockeying for lip time with Zac Efron or Ryan Gosling. What would she see in Max, who is just a TV writer?