Death of a Movie Star

by Timothy Patrick

  ***

  After the ambush, as it quickly got dubbed when it exploded all over social media, Micah went back and watched the film. He didn’t like what he saw. Brandi dropped the bomb on Cass, who obviously had been blindsided, and he proceeded to yuk it up from every possible angle. And then he closed the show with his usual ringmaster-from-hell routine. And fifty million people called it another fun night of television entertainment. What else could he have done? Nothing. That’s what StarBash did. That’s what he did. Yes, he truly had no fondness for actors. And yes, he believed that StarBash sometimes asked legitimate questions. But did a reality-TV circus act really have any business trying to answer those questions? And, more importantly to Micah, had his shtick gotten so out of control that he’d morphed into some kind of cruel sideshow spectacle, a monster of his own creation?

  And what about Cass, the one who’d taken a direct hit? Movie stars from the top of the heap are supposed to be rotten to the core. But she didn’t respond like that. She displayed admirable composure and then, after the filming had ended, after she had voluntarily forfeited any hope of a televised counterattack, she calmly said, “I’m sorry you feel that way, Brandi. I hope we can find a way to work this out.”

  Somehow things had turned upside down. Micah had ended up looking like the obnoxious actor, and Cass looked like the levelheaded human being.

  Micah had known from the beginning that he and StarBash didn’t go well together. This kind of show needed an oily prankster who didn’t really care one way or the other. That wasn’t Micah. He cared. And, once the cameras started rolling, that sometimes caused him to add a little too much zing to the zingers.

  In the beginning the show had been nothing but a quick way to raise money for Lenora’s museum. So Micah agreed—contingent upon certain provisions regarding ownership. He had figured a run of two seasons, tops, and he’d be done. Now, four years later, Lenora and the network hounded him daily about seasons five and six. This dustup between Cass and Brandi, and yet another ratings surge, didn’t make things any easier. Micah never knew success could look so bleak.

  Immediately after the episode aired, the paparazzi invaded. Micah expected that. He didn’t expect the rest of the press corps, who came out in even greater numbers. At first the story ran as a gossipy piece about a nasty feud that had erupted between two actors on national TV. Then it turned political, like most topics of conversation in the age of information. One side condemned the show for legitimizing a hate-monger and for allowing an actor of Cass’s stature to be ambushed in such a cruel and unfair manner. The other side fired back that if Hollywood hadn’t been such a cloistered swamp that suppressed the opinions of people like Brandi Bonacore, then this event never would have happened in the first place. Both sides accused each other of intolerance. At this point Micah didn’t care anymore. He wanted it to be over.

  Micah had been through rough patches before—Lenora never made things easy—but this patch felt a little rougher than most. But Micah plowed ahead, just as he’d always done. He also beefed up security and told them to keep the two ladies apart—except when the cameras rolled. That last part had been forcefully communicated to him by the money people.

  ***

  Getting tossed from the crappy reality show was supposed to have been the easy part of Cass’s plan. Instead, it had become a minefield that had knocked her on her ass after barely even a step. She knew the answer. She just didn’t know how to make it happen. If she walked off the show, lawsuits would definitely follow, but she’d survive. Surviving the other fallout didn’t look as good. Now that Brandi had thrown down the gauntlet, if Cass left she’d be tagged as a lightweight coward who had skedaddled as soon as things got tough. She’d be Cass the nasty bully versus Brandi the brave underdog. People liked these kinds of stories and didn’t easily forget them. Her career might not ever recover. And if she stayed, she ran the risk of even more destruction. Cass felt completely lost.

  And just as Cass knew the right answer—get the hell out of Dodge—so did all her friends and a few of her enemies, and they just had to share their epiphanies. So they called, one after the other, and told her what she already knew. Except for Freddie, her agent, he just cried on the phone.

  The one call that offered the most hope also happened to be the one Cass least wanted to answer. It came from Lenora. The same Lenora who had an expertise in this type of damage control precisely because she’d had seventy years of experience evading the consequences of the crime she had committed against Cass’s own mother! The irony made Cass want to scream. She took the call anyway. She felt that desperate.

  Chapter six

  Lenora sat on the bench and watched the afternoon waves break lazily onto the sand. In reality, she simply watched a film as it played on giant video monitors at the back of the set. They’d had to shoot new ocean footage at the same cove in Antibes where the original scene had been filmed, but it looked authentic. Even the color of the sky and the size of the waves perfectly matched the original movie. They had also brought in three truckloads of sand and had recreated the tall rock formation of the cove that framed the scene on the right and left. Of the fifteen interactive exhibits at the museum, Lenora liked this one best. The fact that the scene came from Conspiracy to Commit Marriage, winner of eleven academy awards, including best actress for Lenora, probably had something to do with her fondness.

  On this day, however, Lenora liked the exhibit for an entirely different reason: it provided a soothing atmosphere for Cassandra Moreaux, the dumb little lamb who needed to continue down the chute, peacefully unaware that she had somewhere to go.

  After a few minutes, Cassandra entered the set by way of the escalator. Lenora stood and watched expectantly to see how she responded to the exhibit, but Cassandra didn’t look at it. She purposely ignored it. She chose a childish slight over artistic awareness. Given their current relationship, Lenora almost understood.

  “Hello, Cassandra.”

  “Hello, Lenora.”

  The ladies stood silently. In acting, well-placed silence can provide emphasis, the difference between a dagger to the heart and a dagger to the heart with a twist. Lenora had a reputation as an acknowledged expert of the pause, and she didn’t use it just in the movies. She smiled patiently and waited for Cassandra to feel the silence, which she did.

  “You had something to tell me about Brandi?” she finally asked.

  “Yes, I do. Shall we sit here and enjoy an afternoon at the beach?”

  They sat on the bench.

  “I’ve spoken to Brandi, and she is willing to end her war with you,” said Lenora, who then waited for a response. It didn’t come. If anything, Cassandra looked unhappy. Lenora asked, “Is there something you don’t like about this news?”

  “Everyone knows I want off the show. I was hoping you had something for me along those lines,” said Cassandra.

  “Actually, I do, dear. It’s some simple advice that says a graceful exit is better than a quick, ugly exit, and that’s what I’m offering. This deal will turn down the heat while you search for a graceful exit.”

  “OK. What does Brandi want from me?” said Cassandra.

  “I’ll get to that,” said Lenora, “but first let me explain that if we make this deal, the feud will continue to be front and center on the show—the ratings are too good to let it go—but she won’t say anything specific about your past dealings together. It will be more of an ongoing general animosity.”

  “So instead of being a big bitch, she’ll just be a little bitch; is that what you’re saying?”

  “Reality-TV runs on bitches and idiots, dear, as I’m sure you already know,” said Lenora.

  “No. But I’m learning fast. Now what does she want?”

  “She doesn’t want anything…at least not from you. She wants a co-executive producer credit for next season, and I’m willing to give it to her because there’s something you can do for me,” said Lenora.

 
“And what is that?”

  “I want you to accept an invitation to the museum’s grand opening. It will be held on Friday, June 5, and it’s important that the right people are here. All the major media will be present, and I need big names and pretty faces for them to admire. And since the grand opening is the day after StarBash wraps for the season, you can just stay another night and save yourself the extra travel.”

  “It’s a nice thought, but StarBash and I will be parting company long before that,” said Cassandra.

  “Oh, I don’t know. You might surprise yourself. Something tells me that underneath all that Actors Studio intensity lies the heart of a true reality star,” said Lenora, with an innocent smile.

  “Thank you,” said Cassandra, who obviously recognized the little jab. Then she said, “Is that all you want, Lenora, just the museum grand opening?”

  “That’s all.”

  “Because if I agree, it won’t change anything about what we talked about before or what I’ll do when I get the proof I’m looking for. Which reminds me, when am I getting a copy of your birth certificate?”

  “It’s already been ordered from Milwaukee County. They said it takes six weeks,” said Lenora.

  “That’s funny. When we talked before, you said it had to be ordered from a foreign country,” said Cassandra.

  “Did I say that? I don’t know where my brain is these days. Anyway, not to worry, it’s all taken care of. Now listen, Cassandra. I know you are serious about what happened to your mother, and, don’t think I’m being flippant, but the results of your search don’t really concern me. I don’t have anything to hide, and eventually you will find that out. In the meantime, I have a museum to open, you have a career to protect, and it just so happens that if we work together, we can accomplish both of those things. It’s just good business, especially with a loose cannon like Brandi Bonacore in the mix. Do we have a deal?”

  ***

  Brandi’s pie hole had been plugged, and so, in that regard, the world looked a little brighter when Cass left the museum that afternoon. Lenora, on the other hand, baffled Cass. She had blatantly changed her story—regarding the foreign country—but continued to assert her innocence and act as carefree as a porpoise in a fish farm. Cass didn’t buy it. In fact, the possibility of a birth certificate from a foreign country had already climbed to the top of Cass’s suspicious list, and she had taken appropriate action. Lenora had two legal names at her disposal: her stage name, Lenora Danmore, and her supposed birth name, Carolyn Anna Voyt. But neither of those two names had shown up in the FBI files. A birth certificate with a third name that no one knew about might be the answer to the puzzle. And now that Lenora had started backtracking, Cass had become more suspicious than ever.

  As she started down the footpath that led to the trailers, Cass noticed a flickering light in Micah’s workshop. It reminded her that she had another piece of unfinished business with a certain smart-ass who’d had just a little too much fun at her expense. There’s having fun, and then there’s piling on, and apparently the Tinseltown tyrant didn’t know the difference. She decided a friendly social call might be in order.

  Cass approached the door and heard laughing and talking inside. She knocked. The laughing and talking continued, but no one answered the door. She stepped to her left and peeked in the window. She saw a dark workshop except for the flickering light from a computer monitor on Micah’s desk. It played some sort of video, and that was also where the voices seemed to be coming from. Cass’s devilish imagination instantly kicked into gear, and she wondered about the video. Was it a classic car video or some other video having to do with the museum? Or, heaven forbid, could it be a movie-movie, featuring a real-life cast of reprobate actors with plastic faces and bad boob jobs? Had the terminator backslidden and fallen prey to Hollywood’s evil snare? She stepped back to the entrance and tried the doorknob. It turned. She looked over her shoulder to make sure no one witnessed her little spy mission and then slipped inside.

  She quickly determined the place to be empty and headed straight to the monitor on Micah’s desk. Unfortunately, the video in question turned out to be nothing but a home movie. But then she looked closer and realized that not just any family starred in this home movie. It featured Lenora and a man and a little boy. Lenora and the man looked to be in their late thirties or early forties, and the boy looked about two or three years old. Now Cass’s curiosity had really been piqued. Lenora had been married and divorced at a very young age. After that she never remarried and had never had any children. The man didn’t look like anyone that had been publicly connected to Lenora or anyone that had been in the industry at that time that Cass knew about. Something just didn’t make sense. Cass watched some more. Lenora balanced a wicker basket on her head and did an Irish jig at the same time. For some reason she felt the need to put on a show for the boy. The man knelt down and gently pushed the reluctant boy toward Lenora. He said, “Look at Mother. Maybe she has your present in the basket.” The boy clung to the man’s arm. The man kept pushing and said, “Come on, Micah, go see what mother has in the basket.”

  Cass stood up ramrod straight. Micah? Mother? She paused the video and looked over at the pictures on the wall that she’d seen the other day. Those pictures showed Micah as a little boy. He’d admitted it. She grabbed one of the pictures, returned to the monitor, and compared the two images. It was Micah. He looked younger in the video but it was definitely Micah.

  And now the whole twisted story made sense. Why had a superstar like Lenora hired a manager who had barely graduated high school? Why had she fired him a thousand times but had always taken him back? Why had Micah stuck with Lenora these last ten years after her career had ended? Because Micah the manager didn’t even exist! Micah the obsessively devoted employee had been a smoke screen! It answered all the questions, including the granddaddy of them all: Why did Micah Bailey hate actors? Because Micah Bailey had his very own Mommy Dearest, and her name was Lenora Danmore! If you searched the slimiest tabloids for a year, you’d never come up with a better answer than that.

  Cass sat down in Micah’s chair and let her brain play tug-of-war with the revelation. Aside from the obvious fact that Lenora had had a baby very late in life, Cass also understood the how and why of it from a professional point of view. Back then major actors lived very controlled and scripted public lives. How they dressed, who they dated, and where they went had more to do with marketing than personal preference. And you never, ever let the public see your dirty laundry, and that included your illegitimate love child. That part of it all made sense. But what about everyday life? How had Lenora been able to live that out? A child, not to mention the child’s father, might be successfully stashed away for a few hours when the cameras are rolling, but what do you do with them during the weeks, months, and years that come in between? What had Lenora done with Micah all the years before the actor-and-manager charade had begun? Knowing Lenora, the answer to that question wouldn’t be the subject of a heartwarming movie anytime soon.

  As Cass’s mind pondered these questions, her eyes got distracted by a framed photograph sitting on Micah’s desk. It showed a beautiful young woman with blonde hair, tan face, and a light smattering of freckles. She looked like a California surfer girl. Cass wondered who she might be. Sister, girlfriend…but not wife because Micah’s marriage had ended some years ago…or so Cass had heard.

  She refocused her thoughts and looked back at the mother and child. Now, for some reason, the video felt different. The mother offered clownish enticement, and the boy resisted, the same way any three-year-old resists being pushed to a stranger. Lenora had no natural connection to her child, so she resorted to the only connection she understood: actor and audience. The video made Cass feel sad, as did the fact that Micah even had it on his computer. If any human being needed something better to watch, it had to be Micah Bailey. And then Cass got an idea. She grabbed the computer mouse, opened her favorite online movie site, a
nd cued up Planes, Trains & Automobiles. He had the car from that movie in the collection, so she figured she’d give it a try. She scribbled out a note and taped it to the monitor. It said, Don’t worry; you’re not watching a movie! You’re doing research on one of your cars. Enjoy! Cass.

  ***

  Micah heard approaching footsteps. The door opened, sunlight poured over him like a spotlight, and Cass saw him sitting in the swivel chair just inside her trailer. She gasped and said, “Shit! Micah! You scared me!” She stepped up into the trailer. “What the hell are you doing in here? It’s not right.”

  “Do you mean kind of like this?” said Micah, as he held up his phone for Cass to see. It showed a video of Cass sneaking into Micah’s workshop earlier that afternoon.

  “You didn’t lock your door,” said Cass.

  “Neither did you,” said Micah.

  “OK. You got me…but it still feels creepy…and why do you have that shit on your phone anyway?” She sat at the u-shaped dinette, just a few feet away.

  Micah swiveled the swivel chair so that it faced Cass and said, “Because I get paid to stay one step ahead, and if I don’t, Lenora will run me over and never look back. And she’ll do the same thing to you. And that’s one of the reasons I’m here. You had another meeting with her, and you didn’t tell me about it. Listen, I can’t make you do anything, but I can give you a warning. Lenora likes to make deals with people who think they can outsmart her. Don’t do it.”

  “Uh…OK…you do know she’s a hundred years old, right?”

  “Eighty-seven and more dangerous than ever. I just thought you should know,” said Micah.

  “OK, so now I know. What else do you want?” said Cass.

  “To know if you’ll have dinner with me?”