Sweetheart Starlet: A Sweet Lesbian Romance

by Nicolette Dane

  “Tabitha Bloom?” he said.

  Oh yeah. It would probably be helpful to know that Patrick had been on This Saturday two years prior.

  “Uh, hello Patrick,” I said sheepishly. I stopped in my tracks and waited there for him. Patrick slowly stalked down the steps and toward me. A smile grew on his face.

  Right then it really started to hit me. I didn’t really realize that I was actually a known person in this world. I mean, I knew that I was friendly with some celebrities, that I ran around with some elite people, but it wasn’t until I was standing there in the gaze of Patrick Seward, hearing my name come from his mouth, that I understood how far I’d come. Maybe Corinne was right. Maybe I wasn’t just some geeky writer existing purely behind the scenes.

  “What are you doing back here?” said Patrick. He approached me, still smiling, and comfortingly placed his hand on my shoulder. “It’s terrific to see you.”

  “Just, you know, sneaking around,” I said with impishness. He gave me a charmed laugh.

  “Oh Tabitha,” said Patrick warmly. “I don’t believe you’re the kind of woman who needs to sneak. I’m sure you’d be welcomed in any company.”

  “You’d be surprised, Patrick.”

  “Listen,” he said. “I’d love to stay and chat but I’m being called for a scene. Will you be around long?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “I’m working on a shoot across the street so I may have to, you know, sneak back there eventually.”

  “Very well,” Patrick laughed jovially. “It was a pleasure to run into you. I hope to be invited back on the show sometime.”

  “I’ll talk to George,” I said, giving Patrick a thumbs up.

  “Thank you, Tabitha,” he grinned. “Good day.” Patrick bowed his head slightly and then made his way to the soundstage door, disappearing inside.

  As I returned to my walk down the line of trailers, checking each trailer as I passed for Corinne’s name, I couldn’t believe how well LA had already been treating me. I actually kind of felt like a celebrity here. That feeling was at odds with the logical part of my brain, the part that kept telling me, “Tab, you’re not one of them,” but damn it I think I was. All these people knew me somehow. They knew me at the comedy club. They knew me on a movie set — a movie I wasn’t even a part of, mind you — and what’s even crazier, they all wanted something from me. If that’s not celebrity status, I’m not sure what is.

  The California sun shone brightly down on this little backlot trailer area, the temperature perfect in the low 70s, just a beautiful day. And the day felt even more beautiful when I finally happened upon the trailer that belonged to Corinne. “C. Holmstrom” it said, written on tape and stuck to the door. I could feel my heart begin to beat faster as I mounted the steps. I pushed my sleeves up my arms. I took another deep breath, trying to steady myself, and I knocked on the door.

  After what felt like the longest moment in the history of moments, the door opened with a pop, pushing outward from the trailer and causing me to step back slightly. Peeking out from inside was a suspicious-looking Corinne.

  “Tab!” she beamed upon seeing me, looking around quickly to make sure no one else was witness to our meeting.

  “It’s me,” I said with a guilty smile.

  “Get in here,” she whispered, backing off from the door. I quickly slipped inside the trailer, Corinne shutting and locking the door behind me.

  Corinne’s trailer was nicely and comfortably furnished, a long plush couch on one side with a coffee table in front of it. Near the entrance was a seat with a vanity mirror in front of it. It was cozily lit and temperature controlled. I noticed a book, opened and page-side down, on the coffee table next to a platter of fruit.

  “Oh Tab!” said Corinne, obviously happy to see me. She jumped forward and we embraced. It was then that I noticed that Corinne was dressed in her costume for the movie. I looked down at her, seeing her in the spandex jumpsuit, and let out a little bit of a laugh.

  “I love this,” I said, motioning to her outfit with my hand as I stepped back from her. “It doesn’t leave very much to the imagination.”

  “Do I look like the Cloudburst you remember from the comics?” she said in flirty tone, striking a pose for me.

  “Definitely,” I said, wiggling a finger at her chest.

  “Stop,” she said, reaching out and grabbing my finger. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I’m actually working,” I said, trying to make it all seem like one big coincidence. “I’m script doctoring for Adam Sperry for a movie in the soundstage across the street.”

  “You’re kidding,” said Corinne. “So you’re in town?”

  “I’m in town,” I affirmed.

  “You know,” said Corinne, looking me dead in the eyes, her face filling with emotion. “I missed you.”

  “Oh man,” I said with a relieved sigh. “You know, I’m so happy to hear you say that. I thought maybe you’d hate me or something.”

  “Hate you?” she said with a serious expression, her head shaking. “Oh no.”

  “I don’t know,” I said, shrugging.

  “No,” repeated Corinne. “No, I hate what happened. It shouldn’t have gone down like that.”

  “Mmm,” I whined with sadness. “I hated it too, Corinne. Man, I was so happy with what was happening between us.”

  “Me too,” she said. “Maybe…” said Corinne, looking off, the gears turning in her brain. I waited silent, watching her eyes, eager to hear her next words. “Maybe… we can… oh, I just don’t know.”

  “Are you saying you want to try it again?” I intoned as though we were conspiring together. Corinne looked torn.

  “Maybe,” she said.

  “What about Cam Ryan?” I asked. “Aren’t you dating him now?”

  “Tab,” she said, looking at me like I was a total idiot. “Cam is gay.”

  “Cam is gay?” I repeated incredulously.

  “Well, yeah,” said Corinne. “We’re just friends. We go out in public together occasionally to keep up the facade. That’s just part of the act.”

  “This entire town needs to come out of the closet,” I mused. Corinne snickered at me.

  “And offend middle America?” she scoffed. “Keep dreaming.”

  “Ugh,” I grunted. “It’s so not offensive to be gay. This is all so dumb.”

  “You’re right,” she said. “It’s not offensive to be gay. But… a good amount of Hollywood’s profits come from people who, um, might be offended that their favorite celebrity is gay. I’ve been upfront since the beginning with my people that I’m a lesbian and they’ve been upfront that I need to keep it under wraps.”

  “Stupid,” I said, stomping my foot. “Dumb.” Corinne laughed and took me gently by the arm.

  “Let me ask you this,” she said. “If you ever watched yourself in a movie, Tab Bloom in a movie, and you were playing a straight woman in a romantic comedy or something like that. Would you believe yourself? I mean, would you as an audience member believe that the character on screen was straight and pining over some hunk?”

  “I don’t know,” I mused. “I mean, I’m a lesbian and I’m not shy about that. So, um, maybe it would be hard to imagine me lusting after some hot dude.”

  “That’s all I’m saying,” said Corinne with a smile. “A good actor could pull of anything, of course. But some of our audience… they just can’t get passed certain things, you know?”

  “I don’t like it,” I pouted.

  “You don’t have to like it,” she said. “But you have to understand it.”

  There was a quick and sudden knuckle knock at Corinne’s trailer door. She gave me a full smile and then walked to the door, opening it up.

  “Yes?” she said to whoever was standing outside.

  “We need you on set in 10,” said the voice.

  “Thank you,” said Corinne, shutting the door and turning back to me. “Time for work,” she sighed.

  “I really
like that black streak in your hair,” I said. “Just like Cloudburst.”

  “Thanks,” she said pushing up some of her blonde curls. “Tab, let’s get together tonight. I’m out at 7. Are you free?”

  “For you, Corinne, yeah, I’m totally free,” I said.

  “Great,” she smiled. Corinne stepped closer to me and lowered her hands to my hips. Before I knew it, we had our arms around one another and we were simultaneously leaning in, our lips meeting in a slow, passionate kiss.

  I felt as though I could just melt right there into a puddle at Corinne’s feet. My heart raced, my breathing redoubled. As my hands coursed over the tight spandex fabric covering her body, I let my fingers flicker down to the top of her rear, resting them on Corinne’s firmness. Our heads tilted just so. The desire between us was palpable.

  “Mm!” hummed Corinne, pulling away from our kiss with a soft laugh. “Tab, I’ve got to go.”

  “Oh,” I whined. “But that was so nice.”

  “More later, okay?” said Corinne with a spark in her eye. She kissed me sweetly once more.

  I wanted to run back over to the Throttle Punch soundstage, find Adam, and just plant a big sloppy kiss on his face. Here I was, back together with Corinne, standing along side her in her movie trailer, feeling like my life was finally getting back on track. If Adam hadn’t invited me out to LA to work on his film, I totally would have been back in New York whining and pining, probably eating a pastrami sandwich with Bernie, lamenting the unfairness of life. However, that wasn’t my reality. My reality was that I was in sunny LA and I had another shot with the woman of my dreams.

  *

  Corinne told me that I had to be sneaky getting over to her house. She was often staked out by the paparazzi. They’d follow her off the movie set, trail her home, camp out for a little while to see if she went anywhere else but then they would eventually leave. We had to be even more careful this time, she warned. If we got caught again in some sort of compromising photo, it would be far more difficult to explain away.

  I didn’t like sneaking around like this but I suppose it was just part of the life that someone like Corinne lived. It’s the ugly side of fame that a lot of people don’t understand. It’s just hard to live a normal life. I was lucky in that, while I was becoming more of a known figure, I wasn’t some huge movie star that the whole country was interested in. Most fans of This Saturday were far more concerned with what someone like Adam was up to. They didn’t really care about me.

  I took a black car up to Corinne’s home, nestled away in affluent Los Feliz, after she’d texted me that it was probably safe to come by. The neighborhood was quiet and tree-lined, secluded and subdued, the kind of place you knew was made home by many a celebrity. After the car dropped me off, I scurried up to Corinne’s door and pushed the bell. Turning around, I looked at the darkening evening around me, wondering if someone was in the process of snapping my photo.

  I hated feeling this paranoid. But I was willing to sacrifice for Corinne.

  Corinne pulled her front door open quickly, grinned happily at me, and motioned for me to enter.

  Her home wasn’t as big as you might expect a huge celebrity’s house to be. It wasn’t a gigantic mansion on some sprawling estate. It couldn’t have been more than three or four thousand square foot in total. But it was really nice inside. Beautifully designed, modern, well-lit, a huge skylight. Low-key, like the neighborhood she lived in, but similarly expensive seeming.

  “I think we’re fine,” she said. “They know I’m working constantly, just back and forth to the studio right now, so I think they give up pretty quickly.” Corinne gleefully smiled, dressed down in light lilac satin lounge clothes, flowing pants and a camisole. Her blonde hair was lazily done up, the black streak still in it from her shoot earlier.

  “I didn’t wear my PJs,” I said, looking down at my own clothes, jeans and a hoodie, and then to hers.

  “Sorry!” she said with a laugh. “I just showered.” Corinne leaned in toward me, grabbing at my hoodie and pulling me close, planting a sweet kiss on my lips.

  “You don’t wash the streak out of your hair?” I asked with a tease.

  “This?” said Corinne, reaching up and giving her hair a soft yank. “It’s a wig.”

  “You’re shitting me!” I said.

  “Yes,” she smirked. “I’m shitting you. I usually let them handle my hair on set. I just leave it a mess when I get home at night.”

  “Oh my God,” I called out, feeling relieved. “Don’t scare me. I love your hair. And I’m just glad it’s your own.”

  Corinne and I spent some time catching up, laughing, flirting with one another, as we sat on her couch each nursing a glass of wine. I was so elated to be in her company again, it was like nothing had ever happened. But the remembrance of our all too short romance left a niggling thought in the back of mind, the thought that this could all be taken away from me at a moment’s notice. I had to cherish it. It was sort of the same way I felt about my career. It had ramped up so quickly, snuck up on me really, and you never could tell when the rug might be pulled out from under you.

  “Hey,” I said, interrupting our conversation as all these thoughts stewed around in my head.

  “Hmm?” hummed Corinne, setting her glass down on the table and smiling at me in anticipation.

  I lunged toward her, wrapped her up in an embrace, and ardently instigated a kiss. Corinne eagerly accepted, laughing gently against my lips, the two of us engaging one another as we’d done months prior. It felt so natural and right, like nothing had changed, like we were just picking back up where we left off.

  What started off as excited and eager dissolved into something more sensual and sweet, the two of us tenderly kissing one another amid a growing humidity between us. Corinne deftly slipped her lithe hand up my t-shirt, resting her palm on my side and giving me a soft pinch. Meanwhile, I placed my hands on her satin covered thighs, pressing down into her, perched against her, alert and active and steadied. As we kissed, there was a nice subtle floral scent about Corinne, a remnant aroma from her shower.

  “Mmm,” I groaned between kisses. “This is nice.”

  “Mm hmm,” Corinne agreed, our lips smacking together and creating a harmony of tender sounds.

  “What are you doing?” I asked with an uncontrollable grin creeping over my face. Looking down, I saw Corinne unfastening the button of my jeans.

  “Just hurrying this all along,” she said sweetly, her blue eyes aflame.

  And that deft movement did indeed hurry it all along. After a bit more kissing and light touching, Corinne and I ended up in her bedroom, on top of the big fluffy royal purple comfortable, between the four posts of her oversized bed. She had hurried me out my jeans, leaving me in just my tee and panties, all while Corinne slipped out of her satin pants, she too wearing just her lounge top and panties. We collapsed into one another on her bed, hugging and kissing, rolling around, hands moving over skin. I felt so close to her in that moment. She wasn’t Corinne Holmstrom, mega celebrity actress. No, she was Corinne, just an awesome woman who I was totally falling in love with.

  “You’re so awesome, Tab,” Corinne reflected, her backside down against the bed, me nestled on top of her and kissing her face. Corinne’s hands moved down to the elastic band of my panties and gave it an indolent tug. I could feel the slightest breeze rush down my rear as she did this.

  This appraisal from Corinne made me feel awesome. My relationships had all been so frenetic over the years, so hit and miss, sometimes unnatural or based on nothing but convenience. But with Corinne, it just… it just felt instinctive. Like we were attuned to each other in some sort of cosmic way. Maybe it was just the lust in me talking, I don’t know — and Corrine was definitely someone who was easy to lust after — but it certainly felt like it was much more than that. You can ask any of my closest friends and they’d tell you, “Tab, she’s not the settling type.” But Corinne, ladies and gentlemen, this girl could be the one.<
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  “This stripe in your hair is so cute,” I said, pushing my fingers through the black coloring in her blonde hair. “I mean, I really feel like I’m making out with my childhood superhero icon.” Corinne giggled and pushed a hand deeper down into the back of my panties. She gave me a light tickle causing me to squirm.

  “Did you ever imagine that you might get sexy with Cloudburst?” said Corinne in a flirtatiously innocent tone.

  “Would that be, like, so heartbreakingly nerdy if I did?” I asked.

  “Only if you admitted it while pushing your glasses up your nose,” she said with a smirk.

  “Well it’s a good thing I left my glasses on the coffee table.”

  “Funny,” Corinne said. Her hands dropped from my backside and slithered underneath my front, her fingers attached to the bottom hem of her own camisole which she then began to pull upwards. I backed off from her momentarily to watch. With an adroit flourish, Corinne popped her top up her body and off her head, letting it drop next to her on the bed. There she lay, underneath me, topless. Her breasts were full and billowy, inviting, each dotted with a pale nipple the size of a half dollar.

  “Oh my God,” I intoned in a theatrically joking manner, my hands reaching down and each grappling at one of her breasts. Corinne started to laugh, twisting side to side, her hands swatting at mine.

  “They’re tender,” she said, still laughing. “That tickles!”

  “But I love them,” I said in a goofy cartoonish villain voice. “Cloudburst, I must have your power!”

  “No!” Corinne called out amid her giggling, happily playing along, still lightly smacking at me as I continued to fondle her chest but obviously enjoying the attention. “If you take away my power, Agent Force will be ruined!”

  “I will ruin you!” I bellowed. “I’ll ruin your purity!” With that line, I quickly slipped down the length of Corinne’s body, hands running over the gently muscled curve of her toned stomach, each settled at her hipbones to take hold of the top of her panties. Eagerly, an intense sense of arousal building up inside of me as we played, I yanked her panties midway down her thighs, causing a thrilled scream from Corinne, and revealing her neatly trimmed fur underneath. I just about disintegrated right there. Corinne giggled madly the entire time, a laughing burst of excitement and bashfulness all rolled into one.