Starstruck

by Lauren Conrad

  Carmen was too absorbed in her thoughts to laugh. “Yes, that one. Assuming this is all the same “source,” the person had to be there, because that’s where the hideous pictures came from. And he or she also heard me complaining about Colum McEntire … which I don’t do to that many people. I hope.” She bit her lip—had she been less careful in her conversations than she’d thought?

  “So who could it be?”

  “Well, it’s either Kate or Fawn or Gaby … or Laurel,” Carmen said, ticking off the possibilities. Then she looked over at the lobby. “Or Lily.”

  “Kate would never do something like that,” Luke said.

  Carmen shot him a look. He was pretty quick on Kate’s defense, wasn’t he?

  “You know what you should do?” Luke went on. “Plant fake information with each of them. Then you wait to see what comes out in the press.”

  “Um—”

  “Hang on, run with me here. You confide in Lily that you’re going to get lipo and tell everyone you’re going on a vacation somewhere. Then tell Fawn you’re going to start exploring Scientology. Tell Gaby … well, she probably won’t remember whatever you tell her. I don’t think you have to worry about Gaby being the secret source. And tell Laurel that I was your one true love.” He smiled winningly. “Because I am so very desirable.” He flexed a bicep for comic emphasis.

  Carmen laughed. “Sure, and I can tell Kate that I’m going to sing backup for Taylor Swift. I do sort of know Taylor, you know.”

  “You don’t need to test Kate. She would never do something like that,” Luke said again.

  Carmen thought about this. Luke was probably right. For one thing, Kate hardly seemed like the lies-and-deception type. And for another, it wasn’t as if Carmen had done a lot of confiding in her lately, so how would she know about the Colum business? So, great: She could rule out Kate Hayes. But why did Luke have to look so moony whenever he said her name?

  If Carmen thought Luke looked moony then, though, it was nothing compared to the way he looked when the next text came in. Drew had sent a picture of Kate, smiling and holding up her guitar over her head in triumph. Behind her was a blur of teenage faces. Fans. THE FAMOUS KATE HAYES SAYS HI, he’d written. COME BACK AND SEE US SOMETIME.

  Luke, reading this, had flushed—then gazed off into gathering dusk.

  “You’ve got a Roman expression on your face,” Carmen said, nudging him. “All wistful and yearning.”

  Luke took a deep breath and smiled. “Well,” he said. But then he was quiet again.

  Carmen flopped back against the deck chair and closed her eyes. She felt a strange and unpleasant twinge of jealousy. Was Drew into Kate now? Is that why she hadn’t heard much from him lately? Suddenly it felt like all the guys she knew had a crush on Kate. And she was so not into that. She was used to them all having crushes on her—and she liked it that way.

  21

  YOU KNOW ME BETTER THAN THAT

  A cool October wind blew as Madison and Ryan strolled down the Santa Monica beach, Samson trotting along behind them. There were still a few brave sunbathers dotting the sand, but Madison shivered and pulled her cashmere cardigan closer around her shoulders. Samson, too, wore a cashmere sweater, with blue-and-white stripes, from Coach’s canine line. It had been a splurge, but it was worth it: He looked … well, almost cute. (Maybe if he’d been wearing the sweater when Gaby saw him for the first time, she wouldn’t have screamed, “Rat! Rat!” and gone running from the room.)

  “You should see your face,” Ryan was saying. “It’s like you’d rather be tortured.”

  “Going to the Santa Monica Pier is being tortured,” Madison said. “I had to go there once for the show and I vowed never to do it again.” She shuddered, remembering the smell of fried food, the white glow of tourists’ new walking shoes, and dirty kids running around screaming. “I can’t believe you actually like going there.”

  “I used to go when I was a kid,” Ryan said, clearly unembarrassed by his suggestion that they go ride the Ferris wheel at the pier. “I guess it’s nostalgic for me. Also they sell churros.”

  “Yeah, I don’t get that whole nostalgia thing. Maybe you have to have a happy childhood for that.”

  Ryan laughed sympathetically. They’d been hanging out a lot lately—ever since their fight had cleared the air between them—and by now he’d heard plenty of her horror stories from back home. “Yeah, or maybe just weird taste. I mean, I still think it’d be cool to work at the Rusty’s at the end of the pier.”

  “I’m sure five minutes of actually doing it would change your mind,” Madison said. “Trust me. I’ve been a server before.”

  As they drew near the pier, Madison reflected on the fact that she could be coaxed into that tourist trap—if it were filmed for PopTV, and if Ryan were with her. It’d be a nice counterpoint to the episode in which Charlie had tried (and failed) to win her a stuffed animal at the air-gun booth. But Ryan had made it clear that he had no interest in being on TV.

  She didn’t understand it. What did he have to lose? Unlike Luke, he had no “A-list actor” image he was trying to cultivate. Also unlike Luke, he had a cause he could promote. If he mentioned Lost Paws on an episode of The Fame Game, donations would come pouring in; Madison was sure of it.

  She’d taken to telling him about her shoots, as if to prove how fun they could be. There was the shopping excursion she’d had with Kate, and the redecorating scene she’d filmed with Gaby at their apartment … Of course, Madison left certain details out. For instance, that Kate had been snooty at Kitson, and that Madison had been forced to lock Samson in her bathroom because Trevor refused to allow the dog on camera. (Madison would have liked to fight Trevor on the point, but she didn’t have much leverage these days. She had to play nice.)

  “Are you sure you don’t want a churro or something?” Ryan asked, looking longingly at the amusement park.

  Madison elbowed him. “Tell me you know me better than that,” she said.

  Ryan laughed. “All right, I guess I do. Sorry.”

  She smiled back at him. He was so easy to hang out with, and she never would have guessed it when they first met. He’d picked on her then; he’d worked her like a rented mule. (Of course, he still made her work, but now the disgusting jobs were distributed more fairly among the Lost Paws employees and volunteers.)

  She found herself thinking about him a lot when she wasn’t with him. She wondered what he was doing and who he was with, and whether or not he might be thinking about her, too.

  They weren’t dating, because they weren’t making out. But they spent so much time together—surely they were more than just work friends?

  Or maybe they weren’t. Madison wasn’t very experienced when it came to being friends with guys. This was new territory. She’d always seen men as … well, as a means to an end. A rich boyfriend meant fancy gifts or a nice apartment to stay in. An actor meant more publicity, more pictures of her in the tabloids. A chef meant delectable meals and a trip to Paris or something.

  But what did she want from Ryan? He certainly wasn’t the kind of guy she ought to be interested in. He wasn’t a director or a producer or a CEO or a TV personality; he was her boss from her court-ordered community service! He was so not anyone who could help her get to the next level of her career. He wouldn’t even film.

  But already he’d introduced her to parts of L.A. she’d never bothered to go to: the farmer’s market in Venice, the rose garden in the Palisades, LACMA. (Madison never thought she would willingly enter a museum, but she had actually enjoyed it.) It was as if the two of them had lived in different cities, as opposed to different neighborhoods. Hanging out with Ryan, away from the tourists on Melrose or photographers on Robertson, Madison felt herself relaxing. One afternoon she ate an ice-cream cone. (A tiny one, but still.) Another time she went into the Gap.

  “So do you want to grab dinner?” he asked.

  Madison laughed and gave him a little shove. (She was always finding reasons to tou
ch him!) “It’s barely six p.m. Who are you, my grandpa?”

  “There’s that seafood place—I forget what it’s called. But they make really good ceviche.”

  Madison bent down and picked up Samson. He could only walk so far before he got tired and even sadder looking. “Will they let Sam sit outside with us?”

  This wasn’t what she used to ask about when it came to restaurants—she used to only care if she and her date could get the best (i.e., the most visible) table. And the comped champagne. And the owner to come out and thank her for her patronage, etc.

  Ryan reached over and scratched Samson’s ears. The dog closed his eyes in pleasure. “Sure they will,” he said. “Who could resist a face like this?”

  Madison smiled. It really was strange. The more time she spent with Ryan, the less she thought about the things he could or couldn’t do for her. What did she want from Ryan Tucker?

  Maybe she just wanted him.

  22

  KEEP ME STANDING

  Kate and the rest of the Fame Game cast sat in the green room, along with a handful of presenters for the PopTV Movie Awards, touching up their makeup and waiting for their moment in front of the cameras and the spotlights. The Fame Game girls were featured guests of the ceremony, invited to plug their show and present the teaser for The End of Love. Of course, they were already being filmed by the PopTV cameras as they loitered backstage, and Gaby was playing around with her new mini digital recorder, too. “Hey, guys, say something funny!” she kept crying, but everyone was pretty much ignoring her. Even Madison, who hadn’t been on-camera with them much lately and should have been trying to monopolize every inch of film, was sitting quietly in the corner, texting on her phone.

  It was going to be the day of a thousand cameras, Kate thought, sidestepping a thick mike cord lying on the ground. She’d been eating handfuls of M&Ms from the snack table in her nervousness, but probably she should just have a Xanie. She’d grown fond of those little blue pills; they made so many things so much easier. Like, for instance, the fact that Ethan, her ex, had started emailing her ten times a day. What did he want from her? She was certainly never going back to Ohio.

  And just the other night, completely out of the blue, Luke had called. Maybe, if she’d been thinking more clearly, she wouldn’t have answered. But she saw his number on the screen and said, “Hello?” in a voice that she knew must have sounded almost breathless. As if she’d been waiting for his call. For weeks.

  But she hadn’t! She was doing all sorts of things—she’d hardly been thinking about him at all!

  Or that’s what she kept telling herself in the first few seconds of the phone call, before he’d even had a chance to say why he was calling. Though she practically felt like hyperventilating, she made her voice sound casual. “Hey, you. Long time no talk.”

  “Hey back at you, Kate Hayes,” Luke said. She could hear the smile in his voice—and was there anything sexier than an Australian accent?

  He sounded so relieved to be talking to her that she didn’t feel stupid for her own excitement. He told her he missed her and that he wanted to see her. “Tonight,” he’d said. “What are you doing tonight?”

  Luckily she already had plans with Drew to work on some new songs, so she couldn’t drop everything and go to Luke. Which, honestly, she had kind of wanted to do. It was all so confusing. She wished she could’ve talked to Carmen about it, but—well, that wouldn’t really help, would it? Everything was such a mess.

  Of course, the next day, when she got the script for their PopTV Movie Awards appearance, she understood why Luke had called: She was about to see him. On TV. He’d wanted to break the ice first. How gentlemanly of him.

  Kate felt a hand on her shoulder and she nearly leapt.

  “Whoa!” It was Carmen. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Jumpy much?”

  “Sorry. I guess I’m a little anxious.”

  A guy with a large set of headphones wrapped around his neck poked his head in the door. “Twenty-five minutes to air,” he said to Laurel, and then he vanished.

  Kate experienced a tiny jolt of terror. Cameras. A big studio audience. A live broadcast. Yes, she definitely needed a Xanax. She reached into the pocket of her purse, where she always kept it. But nothing was there.

  “Oh shit,” she said. Panic rose in her throat.

  “What?” Carmen asked.

  Kate bit her lip. “Um—well—you know how I get stage fright?” Carmen nodded, smiling sympathetically. “Well, I got a prescription for Xanax. And it’s been great. The problem is, I left it at home.”

  Madison glanced up from her phone. “Ask Gaby,” she said. “She’s like a walking pharmacy.”

  Kate turned to her, eyes full of hope. “Gaby, do you happen to have any Xanax for me?” she asked.

  Gaby nodded enthusiastically. “Sure. How many do you want?”

  “One,” Kate said. Then she thought about the live audience again and the millions of people watching at home and Ethan back in Ohio, and Luke, who was in the building somewhere, and Carmen … and said, “No, actually, two, please.”

  Gaby tipped two pills into her palm, and Kate quickly tossed them into her mouth. (She felt uncomfortable taking medication from Gaby with others walking around them, even if she did have a prescription of her own.) Carmen handed her a mini bottle of Evian and she swallowed.

  “Phew,” she said. “Okay. Awesome. Things are going to get a lot easier.”

  “No doubt,” Madison said, raising one perfect blond eyebrow.

  Gaby held out the bottle to her, too. “Want one?” she asked.

  Madison shook her head. “No thanks.”

  “It’s one of the few vices she doesn’t have,” Carmen whispered to Kate, who giggled.

  Gaby put the bottle back in her purse. “Hey, where’s your sister?” Gaby asked Madison. “Isn’t she presenting with us?”

  Madison shrugged. “Who knows,” she said, sounding bored. “Maybe she’s running late.”

  “Why, is she at a Maxi Skirts Anonymous meeting?” Carmen laughed.

  Madison laughed back. Like a real, true laugh. It was nice, Kate thought, to hear her join in the fun.

  “Sophia’s still a supporting character,” Laurel noted. “It’s just you four today.” Her phone rang, and she ducked out of the room to take the call.

  “Well, I’m pretty psyched not to smell that patchouli of hers,” Kate said.

  Carmen smiled. “Or listen to her talk about the color of my aura.”

  “The color of my aura,” Kate heard herself repeat. “The color of my aura.”

  It took her a moment to remember what the word “aura” meant. She laughed at the sound of it. Aura. It was sort of funny, wasn’t it? Aura aura aura. She blinked her eyes, and realized that her eyelids felt a little heavy. When she looked around the room, she felt slightly dizzy. Her heartbeat began to speed up a little. She leaned toward Carmen and whispered, “Is it kind of warm in here?”

  Carmen gave her a strange look. “Um, no. I don’t think so.” Then she touched Kate’s arm. “Are you okay?”

  Kate thought about this for a moment. “I’m not sure,” she said. She bit the tip of her fingernail uncertainly.

  “Gaby,” Carmen said, sounding a little alarmed, “what did you give Kate?”

  “Xanax. Just like she asked for.”

  “Let me see the bottle.” Carmen took it and showed it to Kate. “Does this look right?”

  “Oh shit,” Kate whispered as she squinted at the label. It had taken her a second to focus, but when she finally did she realized that the pills had four times as many milligrams as hers did. Which meant she’d just taken eight times her normal dosage. “Oh shit. Shit. Shit!”

  “What?” Carmen asked.

  Kate shook her head. Eight times! She’d be having a panic attack right now if she were capable of it. “Shit,” she said again. Then she began to laugh. This was bad. Really bad. She tried to stand and felt a little uneasy on her feet. She dropped bac
k onto the couch, laughing still.

  The guy with the headphones opened the door again. “Almost ready, ladies?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Just need to powder our noses.” Carmen smiled at him, then whipped back around. “Can you make yourself throw up?”

  “It’s already in her system. There’s no point,” Madison said.

  Kate clutched Carmen’s wrist. “You have to help me,” she whispered.

  Carmen put her arm around Kate’s waist. “You’re going to be okay,” she said. “I’m going to help you through this. Just don’t freak out.”

  “Ummm, what is wrong with her?” Laurel said sharply as she walked back into the room. Her eyes were locked on Kate in horror.

  Kate giggled, and Carmen turned to Laurel. “I think she took too much Xanax. Like, way too much.”

  Laurel visibly paled, then immediately started dialing numbers. She was probably calling Trevor. Or maybe she was calling a doctor. Kate kind of felt like she might need a doctor. “Paging Dr. Garrison,” she whispered, leaning against Carmen’s shoulder. On the other hand, though, maybe she didn’t need a doctor. Her head was made out of clouds and her body was made out of lead … and maybe that would be fun!

  “Just try to hold your head up and smile,” Madison said as they hurried down the hall to the stage. “It’ll be okay.” She looked amused now, Kate thought, but perhaps not maliciously so.

  As they waited in the wings for their cue, Kate dimly recalled that each of the Fame Game girls was supposed to say something about her Fame Game life. Gaby was going to mention that silly after-hours show of hers, and Carmen, obviously, was going to talk about her role as a modern-day Juliet. Kate knew that she was meant to say something about her music, but what exactly it was, she couldn’t remember. Each girl’s lines would be displayed on the small prompter in front of them, so she hadn’t bothered to memorize hers, but suddenly Kate could barely make out any of the words on the screen.

  In the glow of the lights, she noticed how much makeup her castmates were wearing. Did she have that much makeup on? She touched a hand to her cheek; she hadn’t really paid attention when she was getting touched up. What if she looked as clownish and painted as they did? She was palpitating her cheek until Carmen pulled her hand down and gave Kate’s fingers a reassuring squeeze.