by N. K. Smith
Right now, I’m all set to do an emotionally charged scene. Sometimes I feel a bit plastic after I snort coke, and I wanted to make sure I nailed the performance, so I stayed sober all morning. My mood is low, which works for the scene, but before I can use my temperament to my advantage, Elsie waltzes up to me with Lenny in tow.
“Adra sweets, there’s been a change to the script.”
I can feel my eyes widen. “What? Changed the script?”
“Yeah, but don’t worry about it,” Elsie says as she waves her hand like it’s nothing. “It’s going to—”
I turn to Lenny. “Did you just delete a scene or what?”
“We’re adding one. The studio thought it needed to be a bit edgier. It’s already a risk, so go big or go home, right?” The thing about Lenny is that he’s a nervous kind of guy. He’s in a constant state of motion, so it’s hard to figure out which of his tics is a true tell and which ones are just his normal twitches. Maybe he’s just coked out of his mind. Right now he’s pulling at his ear lobe, twisting it around in a way that looks painful. I have no idea what that means.
I feel like they’re making this more suspenseful than necessary, so I raise my eyebrows and hold my hands out in question. “So what’s the addition?”
Lenny answers with swift words. “It’s a short little scene between Lola and Candy.”
I should have rethought not getting high. “What kind of scene?”
“A love scene.”
Immediately, I narrow my eyes and dart them back and forth between Lenny and Elsie. I’m all about trusting directors, but I don’t trust Lenny. His movies might turn to gold, but he seems more like a sleazy nightclub owner than director sometimes, and I’ve never had a director switch things up mid-shoot as much as he has. “I didn’t agree to that.”
Elsie grabs me by my arm and guides me away from Lenny. I dig my heels in and don’t let her pull me very far. “I didn’t agree to play a lesbian stripper!”
“But you signed the contract and within that contract is a clause that allows them to change the script and character if it was deemed necessary.”
Folding my arms over my chest, I stand as straight as I can and tilt my head to the side. I’m done letting her boss me around. “Yeah, that contract you told me to sign.”
She rolls her eyes. “Grow up, sweets. This is what’s required of you. You signed the—”
“If this was a hard-hitting, unflinching look at lesbians forced to make ends meet at a gentlemen’s club, I wouldn’t have a problem with it. But it’s not. It’s a commercial movie with an added bisexual scene to help entice men to see it and own it on Blu-Ray. It’s not like they’re adding it for the good of the LGBT community. There will be no award for—”
“Maybe not, but this movie is going to be big,” Elsie says, her voice as commanding as I’ve ever heard it. “And it will win awards. Maybe not from the gay community, but it is going to win awards, but only if it sees the light of day, and without this scene, the studio isn’t going to find a distributor. So suck it up, sweets, and make it work.”
I shake my head but I know my resolve is vanquished. I’m going to do a lesbian sex scene with Ashley Winter. They can call it a love scene, but Lola and Candy have barely interacted in the script before the change. Following Elsie, I walk back to where Lenny is standing. “What’s the setup? My character is just too horny to wait for one of the many dudes in line to get into her pants?”
Lenny won’t look at me, but his twitching won’t stop. “No, it’s after heavy partying.”
This is such bullshit, and now my head’s starting to ache. “Fine.” I turn to Elsie, keeping my voice both low and icy. “Give me your fucking blow, so I can do the scene justice.”
She gives me a hard look but digs into her pocket. I snatch the vial from her hands and excuse myself to the restroom. It takes a second to feel better. It is the instant calm that assures me everything is going to be all right. Fuck the script. Fuck the movie. Fuck the scene.
And fuck Elsie.
I smile and nod at Lenny, then go to wardrobe to get some “partying clothes” that will come off quickly. We film the lead up in three takes, but the actual scene takes hours and hours. I think Lenny and the crew are getting off on the scene. I don’t look at Trent to see if he likes it, though. Since we’ve started dating, he doesn’t look at me on set nearly enough. I think he’s as ashamed of this role as I am.
When Lenny calls cut for the final time, I climb off the bed with my shoulders back and head held high. Elsie walks up to me to hand me my robe. I grab it, slip it on, and then narrow my eyes at her. This is the last time I get screwed because I followed her lead.
“You’re fucking fired.”
Chapter 21
Haven’t seen Elsie in weeks. I’ve ignored her calls and texts and now she’s just stopped. Best decision ever.
***
The wrap party is crazy. Besides the cast and crew, it seems like all of LA is here. The music is loud and the alcohol is flowing. I feel free, and it’s not because of the alcohol or the chemicals buzzing through my body, but it’s because Elsie isn’t here.
Like most wrap parties, no one from my past is here. I don’t have to compete with Liliana for people to talk to; I don’t have to see Peter’s girlfriend hang all over him or be worried about what he thinks of my behavior. I don’t have to be concerned with anything tonight. Everything is free, and everyone wants to talk to me.
“My next project?” I sigh like it’s just too much trouble to think about the next film. “I was going to take a few months off, but I got this great script from my agent, so I read for it and got the part. It’s drama about a woman with borderline personality disorder.” I lean in close to Ashley Winter and faux-whisper. “Directed by Elias Nickles. They’re calling it Keep in Mind for right now, but I think it needs to be changed.”
Ashley says something in return, but I’m not interested in having the same conversation I’ve already had three times in the past two hours, so I scan the crowd, just to see what everyone is up to, and when I see Trent over by the bar, I smile. The near constant stream of drugs makes me perpetually sex-driven, and just the sight of him turns me on. I like him, but I’m pretty sure the best part of being with him is the sex.
“I need to powder my nose,” I say to the people gathered around me. In the bathroom, it takes a second to snort a line or two and another few seconds rub the residue on my gums. I make sure I don’t have any leftover coke on my upper lip and nostrils and head back out. Trent’s still at the bar when I emerge. I move up behind him and snake my hands under his arms and up his chest. “Hello, sexy,” I say, purring into his ear.
“Oh, hey,” he says as he places his hands over mine and removes them from his body. “I’m talking to Jack about our next—”
“Jack?” I straighten up but don’t break the contact of my breasts against his back as I turn to the guy next to him. I guess he’s vaguely familiar. “Hey.”
“Hi, Adra.” Jack flashes me a winning grin, but gives Trent this wide-eyed look. “How are you feeling about the film wrapping?”
I run my hand through Trent’s hair and scratch his scalp with my nails. There is no bra underneath my silky shirt, so the sensation of his back against my hard nipples is hard to ignore. I shift in order to scrape them against the fabric.
Trent smells fantastic. I take a long draw of his spicy, sweet scent, and as soon as my brain registers it, I’m ready to instigate sex. I trail my nose over to his ear and suck his earlobe between my lips.
He stiffens and bucks his back a bit to get me off him. “Adra, Jack asked you if—”
I only give Trent’s friend one more short glance. “Oh, yeah. I’m happy it’s over, but I’ll be sad to say goodbye to all of the friends I’ve made.” It’s my canned answer, but I’m too distracted to come up with something new. I have a one-track mind at the moment, so I move my arms around Trent’s sides and lift the bottom of his T-shirt just enough to expose th
ose soft hairs that lead down the place on his body I love the most.
Again, he takes my hands, but this time he spins around to face me. His smile is tight, but it’s still a smile.
“Come with me, baby,” I say as I tug him a little. “Please? I’ll return you to your friend before you know it. I just . . .” I lean in close and whisper into his ear, “I just need you right now.”
Trent stands up when I pull him again. He follows me through the warmth of the bodies around us, around the corner, through a door, and down an empty hallway. At the very back is a room filled with boxes and dusty old furniture.
Wasting no time, I toss my bag to the floor, wrap my arms around his shoulders, and rub myself against him. Once more, he grabs my hands and holds them awkwardly as he nudges me away. “The scratches from the last time haven’t healed yet.”
I toss him a smirk and lick my lips as I think of our last few times together. “Sorry, baby.”
“I’m not really into this right now. Jack isn’t going to be on the next project, and I—”
“Jack, Jack, Jack.” I rub against him again, then sink down onto my knees. I let him hold my hands for a little while longer as I press my cheek against the front of his jeans. “Jack won’t do this for you. I promise, just give me a little time, and I’ll let you get back to your precious Jack.”
I stand, pull my hands away, and make short work of the fly of his jeans. When I tug them down to the top of his thighs, grab his ass and pull him back against the wall with me. He hooks his hands under my armpits and tugs me up.
He avoids my eyes as he yanks down my leggings with one quick movement, hoists me up, and presses me against the wall. I’m pinned by his upper body as I wrap my legs around his torso and hold on tight. After he rolls the condom down, he slams up into me. My body is flush against his and my head thuds against the wall.
It’s exactly what I want; it’s exactly what I need. I clutch his shoulders and dig my nails into his T-shirt covered flesh. He hisses and uses his leverage again to hold my body in place as he reaches behind his neck and grabs my wrists. “I told you, it still hurts,” he says in a low voice.
He raises my arms and holds them over my head as he continues to give me what I want. I feel frenzied, and I try to rock against him. Trent’s grunt alerts me to the fact that he’ll soon be finished. I roll my hips as best I can, and I’m soon covered in a blanket of bliss. Orgasms accompanied by cocaine highs are the absolute best thing in the world. I’m convinced of it.
By the time I come back to earth, I’ve missed his orgasm, and I’m already standing on shaky legs as he refastens his jeans. “Mmmmm.” I lick my lips and push off the wall. I try to twist my fingers into his shirt, but he backs up, and I stumble. “Hey.”
Trent doesn’t look at me as he holds his arm out to steady me. His jaw is tight. “I know you don’t care about the film that just wrapped or all the people who worked hard to make it happen, but I do, so I’m going back out to hang. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Hey.” I grab his bicep with both of my hands. “I care. I just wanted you. You turn me—”
“So you keep saying, Adra. I just wish you cared about something other than me turning you on.”
“What does—”
He dismisses me as he tugs out of my hold. “I’m going out talk to Jack.”
Whatever. I don’t bother watching him leave. Instead I find my bag and pull out my phone. I don’t know what I should text to Peter, but it’s something to do. When he doesn’t reply, I start recording myself just sitting on a box. After a little bit of silence, I start talking, mindlessly jabbering about nothing at first.
After a while, the nonsense takes a specific form as I think about Trent abandoning me back here. I think of my parents for a moment, but then thoughts of Elsie take over. She’s abandoned me, just like everyone else. I might have fired her and ignored all her calls, but she decided to abandon me by giving me shitty advice somewhere along the way.
I start talking about Elsie and pull out all the stops about her, even embellishing a few facts. Thinking about Elsie makes me want to get high again, so I stop recording and grab the vial of cocaine and a pen. Using the stick of the pen cap to dig out some coke, I do a little bump. It’s not much, but it’s enough.
It’s enough to leave me feeling like a pretty little cloud floating high above this steaming pile of shit place. The boxes aren’t here. The rotting furniture is gone. There are no people networking and socializing a few yards away. I am encased in soft, cozy embrace of love.
I have no idea how long I hide out in the little room, but when I come out there are noticeably fewer people at the party. I get a drink, give the cute bartender fuck-me eyes, and try not to think about anything for the rest of the night.
At some point Trent picks me up and carries me to the waiting car. I’ve forgotten about his hasty exit from the backroom by then. It’s not limo because who the hell goes to a wrap party in a limo? But it’s nice and there’s a driver, so we share the back seat. Somewhere along the way, I pop my seatbelt and climb on top of him, pressing myself down onto him. I kiss his strained jaw, but he doesn’t respond. It’s not until the next stop light that he picks me up and deposits me back into my seat. With all the care of a new father putting a newborn in a car seat, he straps me back in, then settles back into his spot.
When we get to my place, I try to tug him out of the car, but he doesn’t come. “What? Do you want to go back to your place? I mean, I—”
He’s not looking at me. “I don’t see this working, Adra.”
“What?”
Trent locks his eyes on mine and waves back and forth between us. “This. You’re too wild, and the press is too thick. I don’t want to be photographed all day long. It’s not my thing. More than that? I don’t want to have to explain to my mother why I’m being photographed with a woman grabbing my dick in public all the time.”
I think back to earlier at the bar. “There weren’t any cameras tonight. You know—”
“I’m not talking about tonight. What about last week when we went out for a bite to eat? You just about gave me a handjob in front of the whole restaurant. That’s not what I want to be known for.” I don’t understand how he can seem so composed when I feel so confused. He’s just standing there with these wide, honest eyes. He looks like a kid or something.
My confusion shifts into anger. I cross my hands over my chest as if I can deflect the fact that I don’t remember last week at all and shake the hair out of my face. “What? You want to be known for being a fucking gaffer?”
He ignores my lame attempt at a dig. “And I don’t think it’s what you want to be known for either.”
“Well, you don’t know me, so—”
“I know enough to know that something’s not quite right. You fired your manager. You’re erratic as all get out, and—”
“Oh, shut the fuck up and go back to Iowa or wherever you’re from.” Screw him and his fake concern. He doesn’t really care. How can he if he’s breaking up with me? I raise an eyebrow and quirk up one side of my mouth like I just don’t give a shit. “You want to dump me? Good. Fucking go, and when I win an Academy Award, you’ll be hanging up lights for a cut-rate—”
“I hope you do win an Oscar, Adra. You’re talented and beautiful and have the world at your feet.” His sincerity is more cutting than any harsh words could ever be. It’s pity, and I don’t need it.
“Aren’t you a sage motherfucker all of the sudden?” My chest heaves as my breathing quickens from the instant anger of having someone dump me and compliment me in the almost the same breath.
Trent gets out of the car, and I take a step back. “I’ve always been wise. It’s kind of been my thing my whole life, but you haven’t bothered to get to know me.”
“I know you well enough,” I say.
He seems smaller as his shoulders sag. “You know my dick.”
The way he seems so defeated makes my fury weaken. “That�
�s not—”
“I’ve wondered for a while whether you had any interest in me or if you just wanted some stupid guy to show off in front of the cameras and fuck you when you were horny.” His dark chuckle forces me to shudder. “And when I’ve outright asked you, you have nothing to say. It’s like you’re not even there. I can’t do this anymore.”
Cocaine makes my emotions as quick as lightening, and heat explodes within me again until I can’t even see his face. All I know is my body is working on its own as I swing my open hands at him. I’m not just going to let him hurt me without wounding him in return. “Fucking dump me? Well, fuck you. I didn’t get to know you because you’ve never been worth my time.”
For what has to be the tenth time this evening, Trent takes my hands to restrain me. I don’t have enough fight to continue pushing against him, so I let myself go limp. After a quiet moment, he lets go.
“Adra, I wish you the best. It wasn’t my wisest moment when I thought you wanted more than just a fuck buddy. Call me naïve, but I really thought when you got to know me, it would lead somewhere. The thing is, that never happened, and whatever you’re going through, it’s not going to make it easy for a relationship—”
“Ha! A relationship? With a fucking lighting guy? What a—”
He cuts me off with a breath, and as he exhales, he says, “See you, Adra.”
I watch as he rounds the car and walks down the long drive to the gate. What? Is he going to walk all the way back to his shitty apartment? I almost tell him to use the car, but then I stop and ask myself, why the fuck do I care? Fuck him.
As I watch him disappear, the lightening anger recedes. It feels like the coke in my bag is pulsating. Like it’s breathing. Like it’s a beating heart. Like it needs me to love it. Like it wants me. Like it’ll never, ever leave me.