by Alison Bond
‘You’re right, it’s a crowd pleaser.’ He stood up, bringing her with him and wrapped an arm around her waist, dancing to music that wasn’t there. He pulled her close to him so that there wasn’t the tiniest gap between their bodies. ‘You can dance. I remember that from the party. Easier to dance with a girl I know can move than risk pulling up some girl with two left feet and a well disguised weight problem. Stay close. I’ll ask the guys at the front to check you don’t get lost in the crowd. Pretty thing like you might get thrown about in there, are you sure you can handle it?’
‘I can handle anything.’
Forty minutes later when the music began Serena wasn’t so sure. They opened with the only single release off the last album, to get the fans in the mood. The crowd around her began to jump as if they were one, moving forward and crushing her against the metal barriers that protected the area in front of the stage. She pushed back against them, trying to reclaim some of her personal space. She almost lost her footing when the song kicked into an electric chorus and the fans went wild with enthusiasm, jumping again with renewed energy, each surge forward taking the breath from Serena’s lungs. She seemed to be the only person who didn’t know every word of the song as everyone screamed it out at the top of their voices, the tune lost in the deafening roar. Some mouths were so close to Serena’s ear that she could feel breath on her face as they deafened her. Again she pushed back against the crowd and fought for her space. Finally she was able to gulp down mouthfuls of warm air, which was damp with sweat and tasted of frenzy. She began to move with the crowd rather than against them, until she found herself being carried away from the front of the stage and had to fight her way back again. Her breath came in short, hot pants and colour rushed to her cheeks, a thin layer of sweat coated her body and made her dress cling. Her hair fell free from the yellow ribbon and tumbled in waves around her shoulders. There was a momentary lull and the crowd screamed their appreciation, going ecstatic at the opening chords of an unfamiliar introduction, the first-ever public performance of their new single.
Xander rested his bass guitar against one of the speakers and took the microphone. The crowd roared. There had been a strong rumour that Xander would sing on the new album and as he stood motionless in the centre of the stage looking down at the floor, every woman in the crowd willed him to look up with his dangerous eyes and see her. The introduction worked itself up, layers of sound being added on top of the five men on stage pretending to play their instruments. A strings section sounded out of nowhere and lifted the song like an anthem. The crowd clamoured with anticipation like a pack of hungry dogs and with the crash of the lead guitar Xander raised his face to the crowd. The heartbreaking introduction turned into a battle cry of survival for all broken hearts everywhere. He pushed his dirty brown hair away from his forehead, his delicate bone structure at odds with the harsh angry sound of the song. He sang the first lines and his soulful voice breathed life into mournful lyrics about lost love. He stared straight at Serena with the deepest green eyes she had ever seen, the colour of the hills she saw from a bus window in Texas. And then the drums kicked in.
The force of the song blew Riley away. Whoever had decided that Xander Mason should go up front had made one of the best choices of their lives. The best choice for the sake of music fans everywhere. The crowd couldn’t get enough. Xander reached down to touch the dozens of hands outstretched to him, adapting to this new godlike status like a lover to a breast. He was into every moment of it, you could tell. Riley would recommend the band without hesitation, he would fast become their biggest fan, singing their praises in the hope that they would remember that Junket supported them from the start. He was forming a teaser article in his mind when Xander reached down into the mass of screaming fans and pulled Serena up onto the stage.
It wasn’t often that Riley was speechless. So when Serena appeared on stage and all he could do was punch Lynsey on the shoulder, he knew he was seeing the birth of a star.
‘I know!’ said Lynsey.
‘That girl,’ said Riley, ‘is gonna be huge.’
Serena was flushed with excitement and desire. She clung to Xander as he moved his body in time with her and the guitar solo spiralled wildly behind them. He thrust his hips indecently against her and her look of shock was mistaken for a gasp of ecstasy. Her hair around her shoulders was damp with sweat and her thin yellow dress clung to her body like a second skin, outlining every inch of her figure. The camera loved her. Two cameras moved position immediately to get her in shot as she writhed against Xander, her fragile femininity the perfect contrast to his black leather and testosterone-laden performance. She was the kind of girl he was singing about, a girl who would break your heart and still tempt you back for more. Xander broke away from her to pick up the lyric again and she danced alone on the corner of the stage since no one had told her not to. Still the cameras followed her and she loved it. She felt safer here than she did down in the crowds and moved her body sensually and suggestively, looking as if she was lost in the music but judging every dip and curl. The men in the crowd went wild and began to reach up to her, some getting their hands on her exposed thigh until they were pushed back by the burly men at the front, protecting Serena as they protected the band.
The song came to an end and the crowd yelled their approval and begged for more. Looking down into a sea of appreciative faces was a unique rush. Serena felt like a rock-and-roll star.
As the band prepared to start the whole thing again she stood uncertainly on the sidelines. A young girl with a jaunty ponytail, complete with headset and clipboard came over and introduced herself as the second AD. Her tone was frosty but Serena understood immediately that they wanted her to dance with Xander again. One of the make-up artists fussing over the band peeled away and came over to Serena, dusting her shoulders and cheekbones with a trace of fine silver and patting some of the perspiration away from her face with tissues.
Lynsey watched it all and couldn’t believe her eyes. Serena had thrust herself into the limelight and she looked sensational. Her presence on stage was now taken as a given and as well as the attention paid to her face and hair, the director spoke to her briefly with Xander before the band resumed the intro for a second take. Serena seemed to take it all in her stride and this time when she danced with Xander she was even more wanton, every expression on her face and movement of her body blatantly screaming sex. The director looked on, deeply satisfied. Riley and Lynsey exchanged grins, rooting for this girl they hardly knew. There was a voice behind them.
Who’s the model? She’s new.’
It was Andy, a young exec from MTV who had called earlier when he saw the magazine.
‘Don’t you recognize her?’ said Riley. ‘That’s Serena.’
‘Christ, you’re right. She looked so innocent in that picture but right now she’s giving me a hard-on like you wouldn’t believe. Can I speak to her? Who’s her agent?’
‘She’s fixing that up right now. Stick around, I’ll introduce you,’ said Lynsey, hoping that she’d get the chance to speak to Serena after the show now that she had the attention of the whole room.
‘Andy, this is Lynsey Dixon. She works with Serena. You make sure to be nice to her. She’ll get you a meeting with Serena.’
Andy nodded automatically but returned his attention to Riley.
‘What’s with the push? Are you and Serena an item?’ asked Andy, without taking his eyes off the stage.
‘We’re just friends,’ he lied.
‘Bullshit, Riley. You don’t have friends. What’s in it for you?’
‘The satisfaction of finding the next Angelina Jolie.’
‘Make sure she sees me after, yeah? We could really use a sexy new VJ. How’s her voice? Maybe she could be a singer.’
‘She’s an actress,’ said Lynsey.
‘Fine, so we’ll put her in a movie. Whatever. Jesus, she’s hot.’ Andy knocked back his beer and made off towards the bar as the song came to a close. It look
ed like they were going for another take.
*
Serena stood by Xander’s side and cast her eyes around the room, a look of pure joy on her face. The stage lights dimmed for a second and Serena spotted Lynsey and waved, raising her eyebrows in a way that suggested she was equally bewildered by this sudden starring role. Lynsey raised a glass to her and she laughed. That’s when Lynsey realized that however cool she played it, Serena was thrilled by the game. And that was the right attitude to win it.
Afterwards Lynsey was disappointed when Serena didn’t re-emerge.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Riley. ‘She’ll call you. You’re showbiz.’
‘I am?’
‘Yeah. But don’t let it go to your head. There’s a lot of us around.’
16
The day that Fabien Stewart arrived on set Melanie pretended not to care. The female half of the crew all seemed to have taken special pains with their appearance and Melanie thought, as she checked her hair in the mirror for the third time that morning, that it was slightly pathetic.
She walked out for the first scene pretending to listen intently to whatever it was that the assistant director was saying so that she didn’t have to look up and meet his eyes until the last minute.
‘Melanie Chaplin, Fabien Stewart,’ said the AD. ‘Have you guys been introduced?’
‘We’ve met,’ said Fabien. Then he winked.
It irked her, that wink. She thought it was childish. It was like she was a joke to him. It would be annoying to date a man who refused to take anything seriously. It was all very well saying that sex should be fun but it had to mean more than that eventually. Life was about more than fun after all.
She didn’t know him very well but when she did the depth of his character would probably become clearer to her. When she knew him better maybe she would see that the wink, the childish facade, hid an insecure heart that was desperate for love. She wondered what he would look like when he cried. Melanie was looking for the complete package: a real man with a tender heart. A man who would throw her over his shoulder to carry her upstairs and make brutish love to her, and then fetch her a glass of water before they slept the whole night long in each other’s arms. She firmly believed that such a man existed, even if experience really should have taught her otherwise.
They prepared to shoot the first scene. Fabien was even better-looking than she remembered although that could be the Bill Blass suit he was wearing. It fitted perfectly, probably bespoke, and he filled it like every man would want to fill a suit. The muscles on his arms and thighs must stroke the inside of the material every time he moved. She could almost see them straining through the…
‘And cut!’
Melanie blinked. Talk about autopilot. She had to get a grip.
Just before the last shot Fabien and Melanie found themselves alone.
‘How’s it going?’ he said.
‘Good,’ said Melanie.
‘Looks like a great team.’
‘Great,’ she agreed, although she still had a feeling that most of them didn’t like her.
There was some debate going on between the camera operator and the sound guy. Raised voices broke the silence between them.
‘Where are you staying?’
‘The studio put me in a motel.’ She’d told him that on Sunday. He hadn’t remembered. That was okay.
‘Sounds awful. Do you want to come back to the house
and have some dinner?’
‘Sure,’ she said and her heart did a back-flip. ‘Why not?’
It was only natural for him to act businesslike in the workplace. Once they got out of here she was sure that things would progress.
They shared Fabien’s car back to his house in the hills. He kept her amused telling stories about some of the people they were working with and Melanie liked having the extra information. It made her feel more like one of the team to know some background detail. She wondered if he was doing it on purpose to make her feel more at ease, maybe her insecurity had registered with him. She resisted the urge to hold his hand.
They pulled up to the familiar white villa and Melanie couldn’t help but be excited when she saw the red drapes flutter in one of the upstairs windows.
‘Hungry?’ he said and pushed open the front door.
She hoped that was a joke because she wasn’t hungry at all.
There was music coming from the kitchen and Mary Ann Simpson burst through the doors into the hallway.
‘Hey, guys! Hi, Melanie. Are you staying for dinner? Hey, Davey,’ she hollered. ‘Melanie’s here.’ She pushed the doors open and Melanie followed her blindly into the kitchen. ‘He’s down in the screening room with his baby.’
For a moment, in the confusion, Melanie thought she meant a real baby and then worked out that she must mean the film. Honey was at the kitchen table with a man she didn’t know. This wasn’t how she pictured it. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be at all.
‘Honey,’ said Mary Ann. ‘You remember Melanie? And this gorgeous creature is Yousef.’ She ruffled his hair as she walked by towards the fridge. ‘Red or white?’
‘White, please,’ said Melanie.
Mary Ann poured her a glass and Melanie sipped it cautiously. Getting drunk was probably not a good idea. She might start crying.
‘I’ll be right back,’ said Mary Ann and disappeared.
Fabien followed her, leaving Melanie with Honey and – who was it? – Yousef, wondering what on earth she was supposed to say. She needn’t have worried, Honey and Yousef picked up the threads of an argument they’d been having and even though Honey shifted her chair slightly to draw Melanie into the conversation it was like she wasn’t even there.
When Davey appeared Melanie could have cheered. ‘Hey, how you doing?’ he said and kissed her lightly on the cheek. ‘Where’s Fabien?’
‘He’ll be back in a minute,’ she said, hoping that was true.
Davey looked around the room and saw that Mary Ann was also absent. Melanie thought she saw a flicker of irritation pass across his face. ‘Are you staying a while? I’ve got something to show you.’
She followed him out into the hallway and through a door that led down to the basement.
There was a miniature cinema down there. A giant screen and eight luxurious seats in two rows. The seats were upholstered in purple velvet and they glowed in the soft spotlights.
‘Sit down,’ said Davey. His face was alight with anticipation, like a child. Despite still having half her head upstairs with Fabien Stewart the other half found time to remember what she liked about Davey Black.
The lights dimmed and Davey took the seat beside her. The screen flickered for a second and then her own face stared down.
Melanie hated seeing herself on screen. Every imperfection was exaggerated, each expression made her cringe. Worse was hearing the sound of her own voice, more nasal than she liked to imagine it was, less rich. But she couldn’t help watching. Trying to judge herself through other people’s eyes, wondering what they would see, what they would think.
It was one of the last scenes of the film. Melanie’s character hears the gunshots that kill two of her fellow hostages. The sound quality was poor but the scene was dreadfully powerful, cutting as it did between Melanie and the two tragic men, using Melanie’s reaction at the moment of death instead of the actual killing. That was left to the imagination. The scene managed to convey the most horrific torture without being overtly violent.
‘Do you like it?’ said Davey.
‘It’s awful,’ she said, meaning it as a compliment. She was shaken. She had been so involved with the story that she had forgotten to be critical of her own performance within it. She thought that must be a good thing.
‘If you come back in a couple of weeks,’ said Davey, ‘I’ll show you the rough cut. Start to finish. I think we’ve made something pretty special.’
They looked at each other for a moment and in that moment Melanie forgot all about the people up
stairs, Fabien, Mary Ann, because a spark of understanding passed between them. This film could change their lives and neither of them needed to say it.
Davey broke the mood. ‘Shall we go back upstairs?’
She didn’t really want to and it must have showed on her face because Davey said, ‘Or we can watch it again?’
‘Just once more?’
He smiled and went back into the small projection room. She waited a few seconds and there she was again, larger than life but achingly vulnerable. They watched the scenes through in silence and they seemed even better than before. Feeling proud of herself wasn’t a natural feeling, but she did.
The reel came to an end and made a sound like flapping wings. Davey didn’t move. Neither of them did. Melanie was too busy thinking how talented Davey was; Davey was thinking how beautiful Melanie looked on screen. How long they would have stayed like that neither of them knew because the intercom buzzed and Mary Ann’s disembodied voice shattered the mutual admiration.
‘Guys,’ she said. ‘Dinner’s arrived.’
Davey jumped like he’d been stung. ‘We should go,’ he said.
Melanie followed him upstairs.
Dinner was a delivery from a Vietnamese restaurant that Fabien proclaimed had the best Chao Tom he had ever tasted anywhere in the world, including Vietnam. It was delicious. Melanie tried not to enjoy herself but eventually had to admit that this evening was considerably better than sitting in her empty motel room watching television.
After dinner they went outside to the pool and Honey decided to take a swim. Melanie watched her splash Fabien playfully, and turned away.
‘You okay?’ said Davey, who had appeared at her side.
She nodded towards Honey in the water, hanging over the edge to laugh at something Fabien had said. ‘They make a cute couple,’ she said.
‘Those two?’ said Davey. ‘They’re not a couple. More like brother and sister.’
‘Really?’ Melanie felt hope flutter in her heart like a moth near a lightbulb.