FanGirl

by Lawson, Angel

  “No one knows, Ruby.” His eyes bug. He slaps a hand over his face and groans. “I can’t believe I just told you.” But then he starts to giggle, which again proves how drunk he is. “What a freaking moron.”

  “I won’t tell. I promise. I can keep a secret.” I have no idea if this is a true statement. I always tell Iris everything, but this time, I have no choice. I’m struck with the realization that for once something is bigger than our friendship.

  “I know you won’t,” he says and squeezes his arm around me in a tight hug. “You’re not like these crazy people. These Hollywood wannabes who will dig and scratch and do anything to get to the top. Never become like that, okay?”

  “I won’t. I promise — I don’t think my career will last that long anyway.”

  Andrew stands and I watch him open the door. He says, “Don’t count on that, Ruby Miller,” and disappears.

  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

  AlexkicksZass

  @Gabielsinferno #10 Mind Wiping

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  g

  [1] When actors engage in a romance for the run of a show. Once the run is over, so is the romance. The term originated in the theater and moved to movies and scripted television and then reality television, but has now moved to pop culture to describe any contrived romance.

  [2] Short for romantic relationship, made popular in fan fiction/celebrity circles.

  [3] Internet Movie Database. A collection of movie and actor information.

  Chapter 12

  Our house has a family room in the basement that’s dark, cool and perfect for hiding. Following Andrew’s party, I camp out on the couch in near darkness because my head throbs from too much tequila and not enough sleep. James Brown and I are halfway through a bag of chips when my phone buzzes with a text. I figure it’s Iris, looking to debrief the night before, but I’m surprised to see Gabe’s name flash across the screen.

  Hey

  Hi

  What are you doing?

  Eating chips. Watching Unicorn vs. Goblins on HaloTV. Wishing I had a double cheeseburger with fries. You?

  Working. But now I want a cheeseburger.

  IKR? Like a huge one. With cheese and maybe bacon. OMG. Stop making me talk about it. Also stop working. Day off.

  Me? You brought it up. No rest for me. Edits on Z IV.

  ORLY?

  Yep.

  Well, I’ll think about you while I watch campy movies and eat stale chips.

  Thanks

  I’m here for you. Always.

  Now I want something greasy to eat, but I’m trapped at home with no car since my parents are out for the day. Plus, I can’t seem to bring myself to get off the couch or anything. I should go back to bed, and I would, but this movie just started to get interesting, with the unicorns fighting the goblins by using their horns as weapons. The unicorns have cornered the goblins in a mystical cave when my phone vibrates, distracting me from a goblin massacre.

  You there?

  Yes

  Open the door.

  What door?

  Your door. To your house.

  This information gets me off the couch and up the stairs. I open the door to find Gabe standing on my front step with a bag of fast food and a bottle of Mountain Dew. James Brown sniffs his feet and I smile while doing a little dance in the doorway. “For me?”

  “And me,” he laughs, handing over the goods.

  “I think I love you.” He laughs again and I take him down to my lair, making room on the couch for him.

  “I kind of forgot what you look like in your glasses.”

  I shrug. “Those contacts suck.”

  “I like the glasses — it’s more Ruby.”

  The dog tries three times to get on the couch with us before I block him with my leg. “No way, James, this is my food. Not yours.”

  “Here,” I say, handing him a wrapped up burger and a box of fries before I shove a fistful of salty potatoes in my mouth. “Oh my gah, these are so good.” I twist off the soda cap and swallow a gulp. Gabe sits next to me, food untouched, jaw dropped.

  “What?” I ask, unwrapping my burger and picking off the pickles.

  “I’ve never seen a girl eat like you.”

  “Do girls have special eating skills?” I spot a smear of mustard on my wrist and lick it off.

  “Seriously? You eat like an animal.”

  “I told you I was hungry.”

  “Is this the movie?” he asks, pointing at the frozen screen.

  “Yes! You have to see this, let me rewind.”

  Ten minutes later, through a mouth full of cheeseburger, Gabe shouts, “Impaled! Through the gut with the unicorn horn! What is that oozing black gunk?”

  “Goblins have black guts, duh. Plus, I think the horn has some kind of poison on it.”

  “This is ridiculous.”

  “And awesome.”

  “Definitely.”

  When the credits start, Gabe crumples up his trash and shoves it in the bag. I do the same and say, “Cheeseburgers are amazing. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. I needed to get out of the house and away from revisions.”

  “Tell me about editing.”

  “It’s tedious and I have to stay focused, which hasn’t been an issue in the past, but now, with the filming and everything, I’m feeling a little brain-dead.”

  This explains the dark shadows under his eyes. “Is that why you didn’t come over to Andrew’s last night?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be M.I.A. for a while — it’s due in a couple weeks.”

  “I would say I’m sad you won’t be around, but I’m dying to see the new issue! Tell me about it.” I poke him in the arm like a 3 year old. “Tell me!”

  He shakes his head. “You know I can’t.”

  “Of course you can! You just won’t,” I pout.

  “No, I won’t. But, okay, ask me a question and I’ll answer it for you if I can.”

  I lean forward. “Really?! Okay, I know. I already know. Do you resolve the Wyatt-Alexandra storyline?”

  He stares at me for a second and then nods. “Yes.”

  “Finally! Ugh, I know I’m being all girly, but sometimes love has to prevail.” Again, he’s just looking at me and not commenting any further. “Thank you for telling me.”

  “Thank you for playing Alexandra,” he says. “Also, do you think you could do me a favor?”

  “Sure.”

  He hesitates. “I don’t want to tell you about the issue because when I finish the draft, I wondered if you could read it?”

  “No way.”

  “I’d love to have your opinion.”

  Me? “My opinion?”

  “Yeah.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I’m nervous though. Like puking nervous.”

  “Why? What wouldn’t I love? I love all your work.”

  “Thanks, but, you’ll see. I don’t want to spoil it though. I just want your gut reaction.”

  “Stop being silly. Of course, I’ll be honest and everything. Just give it to me when you’re ready.”

  “Great.” He smiles, but his eyes are still tense and it’s obvious he really is nervous, which makes me nervous.

  “Look!” I point to the TV. A new movie started. “Goblins’ Revenge! Stay and watch?”

  Gabe nods and settles back in the couch next to me. I can’t stop thinking about the issue, and getting to read it first. My stomach is tense, and then it tenses further when he shifts toward me and his shoulder brushes against mine.

  “Do you think a unicorn horn would kill a zombie?” I ask.

  “Only if it stabs him in the brain.”

  “You should write unicorns into Issue 5. For real. Dare you.”

  Gabe smiles and presses his warm shoulder into mine. “Hmmm… interesting. I’ll think about it.”

  “Seriously?”
>
  He shakes his head. “No.”

  g

  Gabe and I are midway through a third, even more awesome Goblin movie (Goblins Vs. Aliens) when Iris comes pounding down the stairs.

  “Oh.” She comes to a sudden halt on the bottom step and looks between the two of us.

  “Goblins,” I say through a mouthful of cookie. I dig in the box and hold it out to her. “Want one?”

  “I’m not eating sugar this week,” she says and sits in the cushy purple chair next to the couch. She frowns at the goblin and alien on screen kissing. “Why are you watching this horribleness?”

  “Because it’s awesome in that horrifically, terrible, cheesy kind of way.” Gabe nods his approval and shoves another cookie in his mouth.

  “Gotcha,” she says. “Look, I need to tell you something. Both of you, I guess. Can you get your laptop?”

  “Yeah, it’s down here.” I lean over the couch and pull it out from under the end table. I hand it over to her.

  She sets the computer up on the coffee table, facing us. She Googles something and a website pops up. The name ZWankHard is at the top.

  “Oh no,” I say.

  “Yep. Someone has set up a movie wank[1] page.”

  Gabe begins scrolling down the page and reading out loud.

  ZWankHard

  Zocopalypse has begun its third week of filming in hot, humid Atlanta. Maybe this explains why the zombies in this film look like their faces melted off instead of decomposing like the standard Z mythology. ZWankHard is lucky to have a source on set who realizes the epic farce complete masterpiece this film has become. Our “Zource” has been kind enough to share some behind-the-scenes information as the cast and crew destroys transforms one of the biggest graphic novels in history into film.

  On Andrew Xavier: “Sure, he’s pretty to look at, but this guy has the acting range of, well, a reanimated zombie. He may look exciting on the outside, but on the inside he’s an empty shell.”

  WELL THAT’S JUST NOT FAIR! We keep telling you all, attractive people don’t need talent, or like, basic acting abilities, okay? Give the guy a break (and also all your money).

  At least our Zources have glowing praise for n00b Ruby Miller, right? She’s like, practically a starlet in the making, with all that grace and class…

  “Ruby Miller looks like a little girl stomping around in combat boots. Awkward and uncoordinated, she can barely muster the strength to pick up her hatchet, much less cut the head off an LD. And her acting? Go back to art school, darling.”

  See, now you’re being plain mean. Ruby might have boyish, skinny-fat arms like Twiggy, but who needs arm muscles to save the human race? Not this gal. Ruby can just bore those zombies to death with the girl-next-door aw-shucks thing she won us over with in her second-rate, made-in-the-basement fan video. Duh.

  Even more appalling is that our Zource so easily gained access to the script written by Zocopalypse creator Gabe Foster himself. We were very concerned by this since it’s so SEWPER SEEKRIT and all. They were probably worried about someone posting it on the web and mocking it mercilessly or something. WHO WOULD DO SUCH A MEAN THING?

  Oh, right. (That’d be us.)

  Gabe pushes the laptop away and rubs his hands over his face. “I’m assuming this is out there?”

  “Oh, yeah. Like wildfire.”

  “Any idea who lost their script?”

  “I don’t know, it looks like they managed to de-tag it,” Iris says, pulling the computer onto her lap and clicking on the image to make it larger. Each script has our name tagged across the front.

  “Who do you think wrote this?” he asks.

  Iris and I glance at each other. We know every major player in the Zocopalypse online community. I can’t see any of them behind something this horrible. She shakes her head. “I’ll look into it, but right now I have no idea.”

  Gabe stands, picking up his trash from lunch. “I guess I better start some damage control.”

  “Let us know if we can do anything to help,” I say.

  Iris nods. “Yeah, I can try to hack into the account if you want.”

  “No! Don’t do anything illegal. Let me talk to Nick and he’ll call the lawyers. If they do have photos of the entire script, they may take legal action — assuming we can locate whoever posted this crap.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  At the bottom of the step, he stops. “Thanks for the movie.”

  “Thanks for bringing me lunch.”

  “No problem. I’ll call you later, okay?”

  “Sure.” He jogs up the steps with James Brown on his heels.

  “So, you and Gabe?” Iris says once the front door shuts.

  “There’s no me and Gabe. He’s a genius, but also a geek. He just likes talking nerd talk with me,” I say. I hold my arm up and push my sleeve to my shoulder. “Tell me the truth. Do I have arms like Twiggy?”

  g

  “Come in,” I say from my spot on the dressing room couch. The room isn’t large, but we all share the space during down time on set to change, nap, eat or lounge between scenes. I learned the hard way it’s best to knock in case someone is in mid-nakedness. Some images you can’t forget.

  I’ve just found a particularly nasty @ on Twitter accusing me of “famewhoring” off Gabe and Andrew’s coattails. #awesome. The harassment has become worse since ZWankHard decided to make me their punching bag. #jerks. And if one more gossip site mentions my skinny arms, I may crawl in a box and hide. Forever.

  The loud knock provides a welcome relief, not to mention a potential career saver since I’m one thumb stroke away from replying to the tweeter in a not-so-professional manner. Instead, I toss the phone on the couch, sick of the drama.

  Andrew walks in with a short, older guy who I’ve seen around set. His manager? Agent? Donald? Whichever. He’s bald, intentionally so, and wearing an expensive outfit. Business attire, I suppose. This is more noticeable because Andrew is dressed in his Wyatt costume and looks like, well, he survived the zombie apocalypse. “Ruby,” Andrew says, looking a bit flushed, “this is my agent, Derek.”

  I stand and offer my hand. “Nice to meet you, officially.”

  “You too, Ruby. I’ve heard a lot of great things about you.”

  “Oh. Great.”

  Derek gestures to the couch and sits next to me while Andrew hops in a makeup chair near the mirror. He checks himself out[2] and then gives me a quick smile. Why do I feel like a piece of raw meat dropped in a lion’s den?

  “So, Andrew tells me he confided in you about his personal life.”

  I glance at Andrew. “Yeah, we talked about it. I haven’t told anyone. Promise.”

  Derek smiles. “Thank you for that. Andrew trusts you. This relationship is important to him and he — we — would rather keep things quiet for now.”

  “Sure, no problem,” I say[3].

  Derek is still smiling, which is creepy weird. When I look at Andrew, he smiles also. I do one of those eyebrow lifts that says, what’s up, and he looks back at Derek, so I do, too. “We have a question for you.”

  “A favor,” Andrew adds.

  “A proposition,” Derek says and Andrew nods in agreement.

  “Okay, sure, what kind of favor?”

  Derek drops the smile and frowns, a wide crease forming in his forehead. “Normally, I would go to your manager or agent for this but, as far as I can tell, you don’t have one, right?”

  “Nope. I don’t think I’m quite agent-worthy yet.”

  “No, I guess not,” Derek says. “Anyway, as you know, the media and fans have run with this idea that you and Andrew are in a relationship together.”

  “Yeah, it’s crazy. I mean, it’s obvious we’re just friends and co-workers. Like we would even date.”

  “Yes, it is ridiculous, but we’ve been thinking about it and how this could be an excellent opportunity for the both of you.”

  “Opportunity? What kind of opportunity?”

  “Well, in our in
dustry, it’s all about the image — what’s being presented. You understand now that Andrew portrays a bachelor, currently dating a young star, when in reality he’s in a committed relationship.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Because that is what fans want to see. They want him available, to follow his movements in the press, fantasize about being with him one day — which I won’t deny, can be lucrative. But lately we’ve gotten the impression that fans would like to see Andrew settle down a little bit. Perhaps take on a steady girlfriend.”

  “Oh,” I say, smiling at Andrew. “So you can come out then?”

  “What?” Andrew says, his eyes bulging. He takes a giant gulp of water from his ever-present bottle. “No, no. Not exactly.”

  “No?”

  “Ruby,” Derek says, “We would like you to consider pretending to be Andrew’s girlfriend for the next couple of months. Through the duration of filming and maybe through the premiere.”

  “Wait. What? Me? You want Andrew to date me?”

  “Yes. You. The fans like you[4], and every actor can use some good publicity. Plus, the movie needs a push — it’s win-win for everyone.”

  I hold up both hands. “Wait. I don’t know about the fans liking me so much. Some of them downright hate me.” I shoot a look at Andrew. “Why aren’t you being honest? I think people can handle it.”

  Andrew opens his mouth, but Derek interrupts. “Sure, the fans can handle it, but the idea is for this to last as long as the promotional push of Zocopalypse. After that, you two will have an amicable break-up and go on your own way. We can reassess the fans’ position from there and how Andrew should proceed. You, on the other hand, will only benefit from such an arrangement.” I must look skeptical because he adds, “Dating Hollywood’s most eligible bachelor will increase your marketability 100 percent.”