“No,” I said, keeping my hand on Moxie for comfort.
Maria picked up a glossy magazine from her desk and threw it at me. It slid across the desk and landed at my feet. I looked down. My face was all over the cover. With a small picture of Lawrence Roskowski and his poodle-like hair beside it. My one-night stand from New Year’s Eve. The bastard had done a kiss-and-tell.
“Oh my god,” I said. I looked from Moxie to the magazine again, convinced I’d hallucinated the whole thing. But I most definitely hadn’t. Moxie stared at me, wide-eyed, oblivious to what had happened. “That bastard.”
I picked up the magazine and flicked to the page about me. It had pictures from that night—pictures I didn’t even know people had taken.
“This is why you have to be careful who you hang out with,” said Mike.
“He said he was a director!”
“People in Hollywood are just as desperate for money as anyone else. Maybe he agreed to do the kiss-and-tell story to fund his next project,” said Mike.
I went on IMDb and searched for his profile. He’d made one short film two years ago. Shit. I’d been careless. So careless that Lawrence Roskowski had slept with me, ghosted me, then sold a kiss-and-tell story to a trashy magazine. And it was all my fault for letting it happen. I knew I shouldn’t have left the house.
“I thought we’d taught you better than this,” said Maria with a sigh. Of course she was going to judge me for daring to have a sex life. “Your image is supposed to be sweet and innocent until we say otherwise.”
“Then why did you set me up with that creepy director?” I couldn’t say his name without cringing.
“To teach you a lesson,” said Maria.
“Pardon?”
“You need to focus on what’s right in front of you. I thought a reminder of where you stand might help. Apparently not.”
Unbelievable. Could she even hear herself? Did she even care?
“Your album is overdue. You should’ve finished it weeks ago.” She cleared her throat. “If you ever finish it.”
There it was. Again.
I was being made to feel more and more like a failure and I was so over it. I’d worked my ass off for literally my entire life, and this was what I got in return? Why was I even bothering?
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to take Moxie to the bathroom,” I said, standing up.
“We’re not finished in here,” said Maria.
“So you want me to sit here and take it while you berate me? I don’t think so.”
“We need to come up with a plan to fix this,” said Maria.
“I thought silence was your best solution for stories like this? Or changing the subject when people ask about them? Not that I’ve had many interviews lately. Until a song I didn’t want to release and that ruined my oldest friendship came out. But my personal opinions and feelings don’t matter, do they?”
Mike pursed his lips.
Maria’s face turned into what looked like a snarl. “You need to remember your place. There are millions of girls out there who’d kill to be in your position. You don’t get to act spoiled and self-righteous because one thing didn’t go your way.”
“Maria—” began Mike, but I cut him off.
“No, by all means, let her continue. I just love hearing what people think of me. People who wouldn’t have their nice, shiny new Mercedes without me, or an apartment overlooking the river without me. Many girls might kill to be where I am, but they don’t realize what I’ve sacrificed to be here. What I’ve lost to be here.”
“Lost?” scoffed Maria. “You’ve gained more than most people from where you are.”
“Have I? Who’s the one who gets all the money without their face plastered all over trashy magazines? Who’s the one who gets all the power without being dissected down to every last detail? Who’s the one who gets to keep their privacy? Oh right. You. So don’t sit there telling me I’m lucky when you manipulated an innocent child into believing they had a good deal. I’m only protected because of my parents. There are plenty of children whose parents exploit them for money and they end up in an even worse situation than me. Don’t contact me again. Any contact you get from now on will be through my lawyer.”
“Lawyer? What?” said Mike.
“I won’t be under your employment for much longer. Then you can find some other poor girl to manipulate like a Barbie. Have a nice life.”
I grabbed Moxie, then walked outside before I could see their reactions.
I wasn’t sure who I was more pissed off at—Roskowski or my so-called management team. There hadn’t even been a PR person in the room. What did that say? That they’d just invited me into that room to berate me? To tell me that something had to change or I’d forever lose my career?
I’d always dreamed of being more rich and powerful than anyone else. The last few months were making me wonder what I was really prepared to sacrifice for that dream. I’d already lost my best friend. And had it been worth it? I didn’t even know anymore.
No one was going to work with me if I wasn’t careful. Not if word got out about the so-called attitude problems I’d demonstrated in that meeting. And if I got on Mike and Maria’s bad sides, that’s exactly the kinds of rumors they’d spread. Mike less so, but definitely Maria. She had a manipulative side that I’d seen her use before. She would have no qualms about using it against me if it was for her own benefit.
The adrenaline that had been coursing through me came to a grinding halt. I reached outside and put Moxie on the ground. She sniffed the grass. I had no idea if she actually needed to pee or not; I’d just wanted to use her as a reason to leave the meeting.
I leaned against the building’s wall and stared up at the cloudy sky. What had I done? I’d never lashed out in a meeting like that before. I’d always kept my calm and done exactly what I was told.
But why should I keep doing that if it didn’t get me anywhere?
That was the question that kept running through my mind as I hailed a cab and found my way home.
Playing the good-girl role had led to me being manipulated, getting bad mouthed, and becoming anorexic. How had I not seen it sooner?
44
Tate
I’ve lost sight of who I can trust
So depending on myself is a must
But when you doubt everything you do
It makes you wonder: is it time to start anew?
— “Doubt,” Tate Gardener
I called Daddy when I got home. He knew all about image management. He’d helped plenty of stars rebuild theirs after negative press stories. What advice would he have for me? He must have something to say. I needed him to have something.
“What am I supposed to do, Daddy?” I sobbed, shoving my handsfree kit into my ears. I took out some cleaning products from the cupboard and started wiping down the kitchen counter. It wasn’t dirty; I just needed to keep my hands busy. “A kiss-and-tell! Like I’m some slut!”
“First of all, you are not a slut. I won’t have you using that language to describe yourself. Second of all, we’ll just sue him for slander,” he said.
I scrubbed the countertop harder. “He has no money. It’s pointless.”
“What would you prefer to do?”
“Use him as target practice at the shooting range?”
“Tempting, but that won’t fix the problem,” he said.
I threw the cloth I’d been using onto the countertop. “There’s nothing I can do, is there? This is just the final nail in the coffin. My reputation is ruined! Everyone hates me! The press have been turning against me for months and this is the final straw! Am I really that bad of a person?”
Dad’s voice went unnaturally loud and squeaky as he replied: “No, of course not! Don’t you ever think that.”
“Maybe I need to step out of the spotlight for a while, let people forget about me so that I can make a big comeback.”
“Maybe,” he agreed.
“In the meantime, I want
to do something to make stuff up to people I’ve wronged,” I said.
“Like Trinity?”
I sighed. Sore spot. “No, I need to give her some space. If she’s ever going to forgive me, it won’t be if I’m constantly begging her for attention. But there are other people. I need your help to do it, though.”
“I’m listening.”
*
I knocked on the door of Jack and Astin’s apartment. I knew Jack was out—he was in Switzerland for a couple of days doing a gig.
Astin answered, a confused expression on his face. “Hey Tate. Jack’s not here.”
“I know,” I said. Even though he and Jack had been living together for a few months, Astin and I hadn’t crossed paths since my poor excuse for an apology a few months earlier. “May we come in?” I gestured to Moxie, who was in my purse.
“Is that your dog? I didn’t even notice her. Jack talks about her a lot,” he said.
“Yeah, she’s easy to carry around and likes the warmth of my bag,” I said. “May we?” I gestured inside.
He stepped aside, but I could tell he didn’t really want to let me in. I didn’t really blame him. But I owed him a better apology this time around. He was going to be spending more time with Jack, which meant I’d run into him too. I had to fix things with him, or at least make them less awkward. I hoped my offer would do that.
He hovered in the living area, his hands stuffed into his pockets. “So, what do you want?”
“Mind if I put Moxie down and let her stretch her legs? She won’t chew anything; she isn’t very mouthy.”
“Sure. I love dogs.”
I picked Moxie up—she wasn’t impressed, she really loved that bag—and put her on the floor.
After sniffing my feet, she scurried over to Astin and jumped up at him. He bent down and scratched between her ears.
I stood up, knowing I had to say something or the awkwardness would prevail. “I’m really sorry about what happened between us. It was childish of me. We’re not in high school anymore and I shouldn’t act like it.”
“I thought you didn’t even go to high school?” he said, a twinkle in his eye.
“Which is probably at least part of why I was so immature about the whole thing,” I confessed.
He picked Moxie up, then stood. “Thank you. I appreciate your apology.”
I smiled. “That’s not all. You know that movie franchise my friend Liam is working on? Highwater? Well, one of their stunt performers got injured and they need someone to replace him ASAP. I think that person should be you.”
He stared at me, his eyes so wide I thought they’d fall out of his head.
“I know you’re capable. I’ve seen it for myself. Daddy is a producer on the movie and he can get everyone else on board. If you’re interested, that is.”
“I…yes! Yes of course I’m interested!” He looked so happy it filled me with happiness too. The only other time I’d felt like that had been when I’d offered Madeline a job. Turned out I liked helping people.
“Awesome,” I said with a smile. “I’ll tell Daddy and we’ll get set up right away. Assuming you’re not busy, that is?”
“I have a couple of modeling gigs lined up, but I can always ditch them,” he said.
“You really hate modeling, don’t you?”
He blushed. “Maybe.”
45
Jack
My baggage wouldn’t fit in a 747
But I don’t care about getting into heaven
Just tell me where I can get my next fix
And put some good tunes into the mix.
— “747,” Jack Cuoco
“Jack, I’ve got news!” said Larry, walking into my apartment. Since I shared it with Astin, I hadn’t given him a key this time. That was the excuse I used, anyway. It was mostly because I didn’t want him barging in like he was so wont to do.
Astin had texted me while I was in Switzerland to say that he probably wouldn’t be there when I got back as he was going to work as a stunt performer on Highwater—something I was fairly sure Tate was responsible for—so it wasn’t a huge deal if Larry barged in, but still. Astin liked his privacy, and if our roommate arrangement was going to work, I had to respect that.
“What kind of news?” I said as Larry and I went into the kitchenette to make a coffee.
He leaned against the kitchen counter and grinned. “You, my friend, have been invited to do a residency in Ibiza!”
My jaw dropped, my hand freezing as I reached for the coffee beans from the cupboard. “No way.”
Ibiza was the place for DJs. It was where all the clubbers went and spent all their money. A residency at any of the clubs there over the summer was a surefire sign you’d made it as a DJ. I’d made it as a DJ.
It could lead to all sorts of other gigs, collaborations, and exposure. I could practically see the dollar signs in front of my eyes. There was no way they wanted me. Was there?
“Yes way. At one of the biggest clubs along the beach, too. Just think of all the sun, sand, and surf you can get in during the day, and all the partying during the night. This is what we’ve been working toward!”
“Is this for real?” I couldn’t believe I’d get an opportunity like that.
“It’s for real all right,” he said. He took his phone from his pocket and showed me an email. It was from the owner of one of the clubs. And one of the high-end ones at that. “They even do a boat party every so often, and they want you to DJ on that, too.”
Why boats? I hated boats. I got seasick. I glared at Larry.
“We can negotiate about that,” he said when he saw my expression. “You don’t have to do the boat parties. The last thing anyone wants is their star getting seasick. Even without the boat parties, we did it! A residency in Ibiza is how a DJ knows they’ve made it. And you, my friend, have most definitely made it.”
*
After that revelation, I was skipping along for most of the week. Tate and I went out for a meal to celebrate, and for once I didn’t feel out of place at the fancy restaurant. I’d worked hard and I’d built the fanbase and now they wanted me—me!—to do a residency. I’d have to work on my fear of crowds, but I had months to work on that. I’d been offered every DJ’s dream. Did it get much better than that?
I needed new material that I could release to build hype before it was announced. If I had more recent material, it’d be more likely to sell out. And, with so much having happened lately, my mind was filled with ideas. I booked a slot at the recording studio and headed down there a couple of days later.
Maybe I could get Tate to sing on another song if I wrote one that was good enough. Her vocals worked really well with my style of music even though it was different from her own. It was the perfect opportunity to boost both of our profiles.
The taxi pulled up outside the recording studio while I was daydreaming. Snapping out of my daze, I paid the driver, then went to grab a coffee. If I was going to be working all day, I’d need fuel to get me started.
The homeless guy that hung out nearby and that I often gave money to or bought coffee for wasn’t there like he usually was. He’d been replaced by someone I’d never thought I’d see again.
I wasn’t sure if it was her at first. I mean, it’d been at least five years since I’d last seen her. People change. But apart from her having lost weight and gained an air of desperation, she hadn’t changed all that much.
Sitting in the spot usually held by the man and his Pit Bull, wrapped up in a battered beige blanket, was my aunt. And she was staring right at me.
*
The next book in the series, Hollywood Drama, is coming soon.
In the meantime, want to see the world from Trinity’s point of view? Hollywood Nightmare is available exclusively to mailing list subscribers.
ALSO BY KRISTINA ADAMS
What Happens in…
The Real World (free prequel about Liam)
What Happens in New York
What Happens
in London
Return to New York
What Happens in Texas (free blog series about Astin)
What Happens in Barcelona
Spotlight (What Happens in… spin-off about Cameron and Luke)
Behind the Spotlight (runs alongside What Happens in London and Return to New York)
Hollywood Gossip (What Happens in… prequel spin-off about Tate and Jack)
Hollywood Gossip
Hollywood Parents
Hollywood Drama (coming 2020)
Hollywood Nightmare (free ebook about Trinity)
Nonfiction for Writers
Writing Myths
Productivity for Writers
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Wow, this book has been quite the journey. More has happened since I started writing this than with any other book, and that’s saying something. Thank you to Ellie and Sunita for your support. An extra thank you to Silvia for helping me fix some of the big roadblocks I faced! Extra cookies for my amazing beta readers, Alexa and Chelle. Alexa, your comments are always amazing and I can’t recommend Luna Imprint Author Services enough. And Chelle? We’ve known each other so long now just thinking about it makes me feel old. But you’ve supported me and my characters almost from the start, and that will always mean so much to me.
Thanks to my editor, Eliza, for helping me to Americanize my stereotypical Englishness.
And as always, thanks to Carl and Mum for your support, and Millie for being supportive mostly by trying to stop me from writing and demanding attention instead. Ah, the life of a puppy.
Hollywood Parents Page 26