I stood there for a second, biting my fingernails before my phone went off again, Casey responding with her typical lightning fast response time.
Casey: Good, because I’m trying to make it through the swarm of gossip columnists around your building right now – buzz me in!!
My first time on a major set I had been shaking like crazy from the nerves, but that had been the only time – ever since then I always felt cool, going through my performance motions without even a sliver of nervousness.
But right then, my hands were shaking like crazy.
A second later the buzzer for my apartment when off. I near enough sprinted to the door, pressing the speaker button and holding it down. I was suddenly greeted by a mess of shouting and general noise, before Casey’s voice suddenly came howling through the speaker so loudly that I had to hold my head back.
‘Get the fuck back, get back, you scummy sons of bitches! Miss Clarke is not open for comment.’
‘Just a couple of words on last night’s events-’
‘What did I just fucking say?!’
There was a sudden hard smacking sound, and the guffawing groans of pain from an unquestionably male mouth – Casey’s patented foot to the crotch kick when paparazzi got to her. Three assault charges and no convictions on account of self-defence.
Just one of the many reasons I loved her.
I buzzed her in, hearing more kicking and punching until the front door slammed shut and the speaker went quiet.
I spent the next thirty seconds pacing back and forth in my underwear, biting my fingernails – terrible habit, I know. Don’t judge me.
There was a sudden feverish knocking at the door.
‘Emma, honey, it’s me, open up.’
I scrambled for the door, undoing the plethora of locks on it – New York, you can never be too safe – before finally opening it. Casey darted in, slamming the door behind her and jumping me quickly before I could even get a word out, wrapping her arms around me.
‘Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry,’ she said, ‘I’m getting this whole thing sorted out – including those jerk-offs outside. Minus the one rolling around on the floor with his hands holding his-’
‘Wait, wait,’ I said, unable to stop myself from smiling at her remarks but still peaked with curiosity, ‘Sort out what? What’s happened?’
I looked my best friend/agent rolled into one up and down briefly. She was clad in her trademark outfit – tight jeans, boots, a loose blouse and a black denim jacket, equipped with her phone in one hand and a Bluetooth earpiece that I rarely saw her without. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her eyes covered by dark sunglasses which she quickly whipped off at the sound of my question, looking me in the eye.
‘Are you serious…? You don’t know…?’ She looked at me with wide eyes, her face flat and serious.
‘Know what?’ I asked feverishly, ‘I’ve only just woken up.’
Casey rounded past me into the living room, snatching up the TV remote and turning on my flatscreen just as I entered the room. She flicked through channel after channel as I whipped my eyes between her engrossed face, fixed on the screen, and the TV itself. She finally came to a stop, leaving us tuned to some morning news gossip channel with a bubbly blonde host who looked like she’d had make-up applied with a shovel and an overly camp co-host.
‘-we’re back with the morning roundup, covering all the stories that you want to know about. But right now, we all know that there’s only one story that everybody’s talking about,’ the woman said, smiling smugly, ‘And that’s Emma Clarke’s status with her handsome beau Marcus Layton.’
‘Not just handsome, but handsy, Lola,’ her co-host continued.
‘Right you are, Robin,’ she continued, laughing lightly, ‘despite the charming couple appearing totally smitten with each other last night… Oh, don’t they look cute together?’
A picture emerged on screen of myself and Marcus from last night, one of the thousands of takes that were shot.
‘… But, yes, despite their apparent loved-up status, young Mr Layton was caught on camera last night seeming less than perturbed about shirking his monogamous duties to the lovely Miss Clarke, seen in this picture having a fun time with an unknown blonde at an afterparty last night…’
And then came the nail in the proverbial coffin. Another picture came up on the screen – it was a couch at a Long Island mansion where the afterparty had been held, and on it sat Marcus.
But, as you’ve probably guessed, he wasn’t alone – because I was also giving the early morning greeting of an image of a busty, curvaceous blonde sat in his lap with a painfully tight green dress on, and Marcus’s hands squeezing said chest, a happy look on his stupid face and half a bottle of whisky propped up next to him.
I stared at the picture for a moment, trying to comprehend the magnitude of what had happened… Well, it didn’t need much explaining. My boyfriend had gotten handsy – screw it, he had felt up – with some party girl last night, just hours after the premiere. And he didn’t look that concerned about being photographed doing it.
‘I’m so sorry, Em,’ Casey said, looking over at me from where sat on the sofa. ‘I’m trying to calm the storm, but you know how these things go…’
I had seen this kind of thing happen before in the press, people whose names everybody knew cheating on each other, and it had never seemed real, it seemed like a story, just like their movies… But now it was happening in my life, and I had no idea what I was feeling.
***
Or maybe I did. Heartache. Betrayal. Anger. Sadness – and above all-
‘I feel so freaking stupid…’ I sputtered, curled up in the sofa as I cried my eyes out. Forty five minutes later and Casey and I were swapping a vat of Cookies and Cream Ice Cream back and forth, my best friend’s hand held out permanently with a box of tissues in it.
‘I mean, I knew what he was like, y’know…?’ I continued, blowing my nose with one tissue before wiping away my tears with a second, ‘I know what everybody said – ‘he’s a player and he gets around and he’s a real heartbreaker’ and all that stupid stuff, but I really thought that things would be different between us… Do you know what I mean?’7
‘Of course, I do, sweetie,’ Casey replied, smiling over sympathetically at me, ‘Every girl does, that’s like that always seem so appealing, so… Hot…’
I glanced up at Casey, her eyes drifting off to the side.
‘Not helping,’ I muttered.
‘Sorry, sorry… But that’s why every girl really wants a guy like that, even if they don’t want to admit it. You think that you can be the one to change him, you can be the anomaly, the different girl, who’s better than all the other’s…’
‘I’d never think that…’
‘We don’t mean to, but it’s just the way things are. That’s how everybody is. We all think we can change the other person, but it’s a lost cause. One, because we don’t need to change them, and two, because there’s no point in trying.’
‘Why’s there no point in trying?’ I asked, setting the ice cream down on the coffee table and halting my tears for a moment.
‘Because he’s forever an asshole, Emma, baby.’
My tears dissolved into laughter at Casey’s remark, and she joined in with me for a few moments. I still felt pretty awful, but having her here made things so much better than if it had just been me alone… Then I would have felt like the whole world was against me. That was how I had always been as a kid, preferring to be myself whenever something bad happened. And one time stuck in my mind, and forever would…-
‘But we need to get this sorted out,’ Casey continued, I snapping my head out of my random thought.
‘Yeah,’ I agreed, wiping away my tears and finally feeling like I was kind of getting a hold on myself. ‘But what are we gonna do? Half the city’s press is outside and we’re stuck up here…’
‘We could just stay here,’ Casey suggested, ‘You’ve only got a talkshow
appearance scheduled for the next two weeks, everything else is parties and events. I could just cancel and we can hold up here. You’ve got plenty of food, right?’
‘Yeah…’ I started, the idea of hanging out with my best friend for the week and doing nothing but watching movies and playing video games actually sounding pretty appealing… But, then again- ‘But I shouldn’t have to stay up here just because they’re all waiting for me downstairs, holing up the door. I wish we could just get out of here…’
‘I know… But we’re gonna be spotted wherever we go. Well, I say we, but you is what I mean.’
‘No, no, you’re my best friend. I want you with me…’
‘Oh, honey, that’s so sweet of you,’ Casey smiled, wrapping her arms around me lightly as I returned the hug. I loved this girl – sure, she was overly protective and at times a borderline psychopath… But why would that make me love her any less? ‘But that still doesn’t solve the problem of getting us out of here. Where the hell can we go?’
I paced up and down my living room for a moment, biting my fingernails again as I looked about the room.
And then it hit me.
Casey and I had been friends for so long that we often joked about having a kind of telepathy between the two of us. But in that moment when I looked over at her, my eyes wide with sudden realisation and a smile rising to my face, I was pretty sure that Casey really was reading my mind. She stared at me briefly with confusion for a moment, before mirroring my expression.
‘You didn’t…’ She started, ‘And you never told me?’
‘It was my first big paycheque and I didn’t know what to do with it! I mean, come on, if you had the means to buy a secret hideout wouldn’t you do it?’
‘A secret hideout? That’s what you’re calling it?’
‘Well, it is pretty damn secret. Even you didn’t know about it…’
‘I can’t believe you,’ Casey laughed, ‘Where is it?’
‘Up north. It’s called Watertown, it’s a quaint little place with a tea shop and bookstores and corner shops, right next to a logging community. It’s off the map, and there are hardly any television. Nobody would know who either of us were.’
If you’re wondering what I was talking about… Basically, when I first got paid for my first big movie I did what anybody would do – treated myself with a little, put a whole lot into my rainy day savings, but even then I still had some leftover. Casey and I had always joked about absconding to a secret hideout if things ever got rough – namely the end of the world or whatever. But now that I actually had the financial means to do it, I couldn’t resist. It was literally a dream…
‘So what’s the house like?’
‘It’s great,’ I said, ‘a lovely little oakwood place by a lake, with a dock and rowing boats and everything…’
‘Jeez, Emma it sounds like something out of a romance movie…’
‘Believe me, my life’s starting to feel more and more like a movie as the days go by… So what do you say?’
We both looked back and forth at each other, our blank, analytical faces slowing changing into uncontrollable smiles.
‘Why not,’ Casey agreed, ‘It’ll be great. We can get away from this lot, you can have some time away from that douchebag that cheated on you… What could go wrong?’
Chapter Three
Two hours later and we were pretty much ready – I had showered, packed enough clothes for both myself and Casey to last the week, and had a separate bag set up with pretty much everything I would need in an emergency.
‘Well, I think we’re ready…’ I said, standing by the door in an old style rock t-shirt, a jacket and a pair of faded jeans.
‘I can’t believe we’re doing this…’ Casey smiled, looking over at me. ‘You’re one of the biggest young female stars in the world right now, and we’re just gonna jump ship…’
‘I know,’ I said shamefully, ‘But like you said, the schedule’s free, and let’s be honest, I think we both deserve a holiday.’
‘Truer words have never been spoken, Emma, my dear.’
In some ways the two of us really were a double act. I needed her, and she needed me. And I would always be grateful for having a best friend like her behind the scenes, figuring all this stuff out for me…
‘There’s just one problem,’ Casey continued, ‘I’m not quite sure how we can get out of here without being seen by the angry mob…’
She was right - the moment we stepped out there we would be swarmed upon. I had this image in my head of those groggy pieces of camera footage where celebrities run from paparazzi or people going to court cover their heads with jackets so their faces are hidden.
‘We could go down the fire exit,’ I smiled, ‘Belly flop onto the crowd below like rock stars. My t-shirt even suits the occasion.’
‘It’s tempting,’ Casey laughed, crossing her arms beneath her chest and looking around, ‘But we need something inconspicuous. Something that puts us in plain sight without them even realising… And the cab’s gonna be here in ten minutes so we need to come up with something, and fast…’
I knew what she meant, but what could we do? Make a run for it? That seemed like our only resort… Until-
I looked over at Casey, that lop-sided grin having risen to her face that told me she had an idea that was better than brilliant.
‘You still have all those old props from your sets around, don’t you?’ She asked.
‘Yeah, of course.’
‘Do you have Meredith’s outfit? You know, the walking stick and the flowery dress and the big hats?’
‘Somewhere in my back room, yeah…’ I looked at Casey sceptically, eyeing her up and down as her smile grew wider and wider.
***
‘This is beyond insane…’
‘Correction; it’s genius.’
We had seen the cab arrive from my apartment window, and now we were down at the empty reception hall on the ground floor, making our way towards the front door. Outside, through the blurred glass, we could both see the vague outline of press members shuffling back and forth, shouting nonsensical things as they waited for a sliver of an appearance or a statement on the love life of a person none of them knew. But these things sold, and people have to eat, don’t they?
Casey stood by my side before we got to the door – she looked just like herself, save for a larger pair of sunglasses retrieved from her bag and an enormous, rather unbefitting flowery wide-brimmed hat that was pulled down over her face.
I, on the other hand, was pretty much unrecognisable. My hair was tied up in a bun, the worst curtain-like blue and green dress you’ve ever seen in your life covering up the t-shirt and jeans beneath it, and a hat similar to Casey’s covering my face.
Why, you might ask?
‘Trust me, you look exactly like your typical grandmother type-person, nobody’s gonna know it’s you.’
‘This is still madness,’ I said, ‘And if this hat blows off or something they’re all gonna think I’ve had some kind of nervous breakdown in the wake of last night, like I’ve aged fifty years or something. Can you imagine the headlines?’
‘ ‘A-Lister Emma Clarke to star as octogenarian mother of love-struck triplets in new romantic comedy’.’
‘Oh, shut up…’
We had packed everything into one bag that Casey was now pulling along behind her on wheels. This was the image we were going for – young granddaughter escorting her frail grandmother to a cab.
‘I’ll be honest, when I woke up this morning I did not anticipate that we were gonna get to wear disguises… This is the most fun I’ve had in-’
I looked over at Casey with a flat, unamused expression from beneath my hat. She tried to hold back her laugh.
‘Just treat it like one of your parts,’ she said, ‘it’s just like a scene in of your movies!’
‘Believe me, I’m beginning to feel more and more like that as the days go by…’
‘Okay, here we go. Ready?’<
br />
‘Ready…’ I sighed, hooking my arm around Casey’s and crooning myself over to look as close to the part as possible, making sure to keep my head down.
Casey hit the button on the wall by the door, clasping her hand around the handle and pulling the door open as it buzzed and clicked, and we stepped out into the early afternoon sun.
A wall of noise suddenly hit us, I keeping my head as low as possible and shuffling by Casey’s side as we made our way through the crowd.
‘Out of the way people, out of the way!’ Casey screamed, ‘What, are you just gonna stand around and get in the way of my poor old grandma?’
I struggled to stifle my laughter from beneath the hat, shuffling along with slow haste as we made our way to the edge of the sidewalk. All I could see were pairs of feet in sneakers, camera leads and equipment bags. Around me I caught the occasional wisp of sound or the end of a conversation or reading in front of a camera-
‘Everyone is wondering just what Miss Clarke’s response is to this situation-’
‘-hasn’t been seen since this morning-’
‘—love life covered extensively in the media-’
I clenched my eyes shut for a moment, trying to keep a hold on myself as we made for the cab. I didn’t quite know how to feel, but for some reason the ridiculousness of this whole situation hit me, and I couldn’t help but smile.
‘We’re nearly there…’ Casey whispered out of the edge of her mouth, before I saw the yellow paint of the cab come into view. ‘Jump in, quickly, I’ll get the bag…’
I let go of Casey’s arm and near enough dived into the cab after pulling the door open – pretty uncharacteristic for an elderly woman.
Seconds later she came hurtling in through the passenger door on the other side of the cab, slamming it shut behind her before patting the back of the drivers seat, screaming ‘go, go, go!’ as I tried to keep down an undeniable smile at the craziness of this whole thing.
The taxi took off down the block with a screech of the tires – perhaps the driver had been a little too intimidated by Casey’s drill sergeant impression. Looking out of the window I caught a few of the waiting photographers and press members turning their heads in the direction of the noise – but all they saw was a cab turning at the nearby intersection. Although, if some of them had a keen eye, they might have noticed the flowery dress and the wide-brimmed hat dumped in a pile on the sidewalk…
Runaway Page 2