by Matt Cain
To Randy’s left was Shereen Spicer, a bleached-blonde pop-star-turned-occasional-lousy-actress, who was showing off her collection of trampy tattoos to a crowd of dumb-looking teenagers famous for playing vampires in a popular but second-rate TV show. Even from a distance of twenty paces, Serena could hear her bursting into frequent fits of annoyingly flirtatious laughter; she guessed that at some point someone who wanted to get her into bed had told her that her laugh was cute and she’d been working it ever since. If she were one of Serena’s clients, she wouldn’t waste any time in putting her straight.
Just then Serena realized that she was just as good as any of the people at the party. In fact, she was better than a lot of them. And she’d probably come a lot further in life to get here too. She treated herself to another sip of her champagne and took a moment to ponder on her humble start.
Much of her childhood in Harlem had been spent watching her mother being beaten up by her drunken, abusive father. By the time she was ten Serena had started to stand up to him but it had only made things worse and he’d turned on her too. A few years and countless beatings later, her dad had landed a lengthy prison sentence when his temper got the better of him in a bar brawl and he ended up killing the local coke dealer. Although at first Serena had been hugely relieved to be rid of him, she soon discovered that he’d left them saddled with massive debts. Utterly desperate, she was forced to take her brothers out shoplifting for food, and on one particular occasion, begging for money on the subway. The shame and humiliation had marked her for life but she’d survived – and gone on to earn enough money as a model then an agent not only to get out of Harlem but to get her mother and brothers out too. And now here she was at the eightieth birthday party of a man she used to watch as a little girl in classic movies on TV.
Hmm, she thought, not bad for a girl from the projects.
‘Man, check that out,’ gasped Mitchell. He pointed over to Cooper’s wife Margarita, dancing to the jazz music in a huge puffball gown, matching Cinderella slippers and a sparkling gold crown. ‘Does she look amazing or terrible?’ he asked. ‘I can’t quite work it out.’
‘Neither can I, darlin’,’ Serena smirked. ‘But if anyone asks, she looks freakin’ incredible.’
They looked at each other and chuckled.
As she continued scanning the room, Serena couldn’t help noticing that, as usual, she and Mitchell were the only black faces there – apart from some of the security guards and glass collectors, obviously. Although this was now a familiar situation for her to find herself in, it didn’t stop her feeling uncomfortable. And although she was fiercely proud to be African American, she sometimes felt under pressure to be some kind of figurehead for diversity in Hollywood. Wait a second, she thought. There’s Lucy Cantrell. Lucy Cantrell was a former TV star who’d won the Oscar for Best Actress a few years ago after appearing in a period film as a gutsy slave girl repeatedly raped by her ruthless white master on a sugar plantation. Serena always felt better when Lucy was around, although she wasn’t actually black but mixed race. Hmm, just black enough, she thought, trying not to be cynical.
‘Hey, there’s Mia,’ said Mitchell, pointing to the other side of the room.
‘And that must be Leo,’ purred Serena, spotting a handsome man standing next to her. ‘Looks like it’s time to really get this party started.’
They walked downstairs and began inching their way over to the other side of the room. Serena was obviously excited about meeting Leo but checked herself with a reminder not to give him too much of a grilling.
And there was one thing she couldn’t work out. Should she or should she not mention the fact that he was a paparazzo?
*
Mia watched as Leo effortlessly charmed his way around the party. He might have got off to a shaky start but less than forty-five minutes into the evening, he’d already managed to turn the tanker around. She could only come to one conclusion: if this was a test then he was passing it with flying colours.
Leo’s fight-back had begun when he’d met the often cantankerous Tyler Bracket and utterly entranced her with his cover story about photographing footwear. Mia had never heard a straight man talk about shoes in such detail or with such passion. Maybe it was chasing famous actresses around all day that made him so comfortable with his feminine side. Or maybe he was right and those three sisters had made their mark on him after all. Whatever was going on, the women at the party loved him and standing there with him on her arm made Mia feel somehow stronger and more self-assured than she would have done if she’d turned up on her own. As someone who’d been single for as long as she could remember, it was a feeling she wasn’t that familiar with but one she knew she’d like to get used to.
And it wasn’t just the women who loved Leo. The men couldn’t get enough of him either; he’d even managed to impress Cooper. It turned out that Leo was a huge fan of their host’s films and wasn’t afraid to tell him so. Hearing that he was Leo’s all-time hero seemed to be just what Cooper needed after the recent operation to cure his rather unheroic condition of gout. ‘Wherever you found this guy,’ the movie legend whispered to Mia, ‘I think you should hold onto him.’
She felt another buzz of delight but then wondered whether Cooper would have said the same thing if he’d known Leo was a paparazzo. She realized she’d just hit on a fundamental flaw in her plan. Leo might be winning everyone over but he was only doing so by pretending to be someone else. Mind you, she thought, isn’t that what I’ve spent my whole career doing?
She decided that now wasn’t the time to get philosophical and took a swig of her champagne, her first alcoholic drink since she’d finished filming. Tonight was about finding out if Leo could be trusted in her world, not if the people in her world would accept him. That was something she’d have to tackle at a later date – if he really did pass tonight’s test.
*
By the time they were joined by Serena and Mitchell, Mia had relaxed into the evening and was starting to really enjoy herself. Now it was Leo’s turn to feel tense. Charming major movie stars didn’t worry him at all but Mia had talked a lot about Serena and she was one person he knew he really needed to impress. The pressure was on.
Serena burst in with her opening line. ‘So who’ve you papped lately, Leo?’
Leo almost choked on his drink.
‘Man, what’s the problem?’ she went on, looking at the three incredulous faces staring at her. ‘We all know you’re a pap. Lighten up, you guys. I want to hear all about it.’
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
Leo suddenly realized that his job as a paparazzo had been the elephant in the room until then. But with Serena confronting it head-on, it didn’t seem like such a big deal after all. And once he started riffing, amusing everyone with funny stories about some of his more colourful jobs alongside his hapless sidekick Ronnie, it turned out to be a real ice-breaker.
As she listened to him holding court, it dawned on Mia that she was witnessing Leo at his best. Being a paparazzo was part of him and a part of him that she couldn’t change and shouldn’t even want to. It struck her that, while he might have charmed Tyler and Cooper by pretending to be someone else, he was even better at being himself – he was even better when he was being honest. She wondered if there was a lesson in there for her.
‘So have you been to this kind of party before?’ Mitchell asked Leo.
‘Well, I’ve crashed a few if that’s what you mean. Paps like me don’t normally make the guest list for this kind of thing.’
‘Oh I wouldn’t worry about it,’ joked Mitchell, ‘neither do accountants. Unless they’re married to hotshot agents that is.’
Serena smiled and turned to Leo. ‘So what do you make of it anyway? Are you having fun?’
‘Yeah. I mean, you know, it’s great but the truth is it’s not really my scene. Don’t get me wrong, I can do this kind of thing and enjoy it too. But that doesn’t stop me feeling like I don’t quite fit in.’
‘Well, I’m British, I’m not in the film business, I’ve no idea who most of these industry people are. . . and that’s without everyone knowing I’m a paparazzo.’
Mia laughed. ‘If I were you I wouldn’t get too hung up about it. I mean, most people here act like they love me but it’s all so superficial. Most of them don’t really know me – not the real me anyway. And OK, I may officially be an insider now but I still feel like an outsider. I still feel like a fat girl from Cleveland who’s in awe of everyone here and this whole world. I sometimes wonder if I’ll ever lose that.’
Leo took hold of her hand and gave it a squeeze.
Serena couldn’t believe Mia was being so open with him; she’d never heard her speak that freely with a man before. Maybe meeting him mid-food binge had actually been a good thing: her guard had been way down from the beginning, whether she liked it or not.
‘Would you listen to you two?’ Serena piped up with a wry grin. ‘Outsiders? You want to try being black. Then you’d know how it feels to be an outsider.’
‘Try being black and an accountant,’ said Mitchell. ‘I reckon I trump the whole lot of you!’
They all laughed freely.
Mia took a look around the party and wondered whether everyone there felt the same way as they did. Were they all turning it on to impress people, putting on their public faces to fool people into believing that they fitted in and that this was where they belonged?
‘You know what,’ said Leo, ‘if this party were in London everyone would be feeling self-conscious and unsure of themselves – and they’d all get totally shit-faced to get over it.’
‘Well who says that’s not going to happen here?’ Serena smirked mischievously.
Leo beckoned over a waitress dressed as Marlene Dietrich and everyone held out their glasses for a top-up.
‘Cheers!’
‘Cheers!’
As Leo cracked another joke, Serena realized just how much she liked him. OK, he was great to look at but she knew there was so much other stuff that was more important to get right – and as far as she could tell, he had all that other stuff going on too. She watched as he put a protective arm around Mia. And she couldn’t help smiling as she caught Mia snuggling into his grip.
The touch of Leo’s hand on the small of her naked back felt almost indecently erotic to Mia. There was no question that the spark between them had been reignited and was crackling away nicely. She felt light-headed and wondered if it was more than just the champagne. Being with Leo just feels so right, she thought, even if he is a paparazzo.
Leo felt a tingle of excitement running from Mia’s back and up through his arm. He wanted to pick her up and snog the face off her. But he remembered that he was at a party and clearly still on some kind of trial. So far so good, he thought, trying to focus on the task in hand. It looks like Serena and Mitchell like me. All I have to do now is face Billy . . .
*
Billy felt like he’d conquered the world.
He’d expected the party to be good but this was surpassing even his wildest expectations. Absolutely everyone who was anyone in Hollywood was there, all of them glowing with an almost visible brilliance. And, best of all, everyone wanted a piece of him.
‘Hey Billy, when are we going to make a film together?’ fawned Lucy Cantrell.
‘Why don’t you drop by sometime and we can hang out?’ crooned Buck Andrews.
‘Honest to God, I really, really love you,’ slurred a very drunk Randy Foster.
Each wave of admiration boosted Billy’s sense of his own brilliance – and made him feel like the most special man in the world. This was better than any drug.
‘Morrison, congratulations!’ he beamed.
‘Tyler, you’re a genius!’
‘Hey Cooper, great party!’
It was perfectly easy; all he had to do was open his mouth, smile and say nice things. It wasn’t even as if he had to mean them.
‘Margarita, you look incredible!’
Obviously he was aware that, even though everyone was supposedly off duty, the reality was that they were all working much harder than on any film set, checking each other out and trying to impress or strike up friendships with those who could somehow advance their career or social status. But that didn’t alter the fact that they all wanted to make friends with him. And how could that fail to make him feel good about himself?
‘Hi Billy,’ came a girlie voice from behind him, ‘would you like to see my tattoos?’
Of course the down side of being so loved was that he was sometimes targeted by female stars who spotted a rare single man in Hollywood – and the chance of boosting their profile by creating a new power couple.
‘I’d sure love to show them to you,’ cooed Shereen Spicer, dropping her bra strap to reveal a tattooed tit before Billy had time to argue.
After miming appropriate expressions of appreciation he was subjected to nearly half an hour of incessant flirting peppered with bursts of the most annoying laugh he’d ever heard. Somebody really needs to tell her about that, he thought. He also noticed that she had some food from one of the canapés stuck between her teeth. It looked like a red pepper and he couldn’t stop staring at it. He decided to keep quiet and say nothing – this probably wasn’t the place for honesty.
‘Erm, would you excuse me?’ he said, draining his glass so he could feasibly disappear for a refill. ‘I’ll catch you later, yeah?’
As he weaved his way through the guests he realized how much he missed Mia. The last time they’d been here, when Cooper and Margarita had renewed their wedding vows last year, they’d spent most of the evening together, working the party as a team of two. But right now he couldn’t find her anywhere. And besides, she was bound to be with that sneaky pap who frightened the life out of him. Oh what is she doing with him? he wondered. The whole thing just felt so wrong. Obviously he was worried about Mia getting hurt and, selfishly, he had to admit he was also worried that Leo would somehow expose or ‘out’ him if he ever found out about his sexuality. But also, part of him wondered whether he was a bit jealous too. He and Mia had both been single for so long, and there was no denying that he found it reassuring to have her in the same position as him. Was part of him frightened of losing her? He shook it off; jealousy was such an unattractive emotion. It certainly didn’t fit with the Billy Spencer that everyone here thought they knew and loved.
‘Hi Billy!’
‘Hey Billy!”
‘Over here, Billy!’
He bounced through the room, emanating his usual upbeat disposition – a disposition he knew could make anyone smile. But as he reached the bar he was confronted head-on with a scene that made him stop dead.
Working as a bartender and dressed as Errol Flynn was Drew Boston, an aspiring actor Billy had dated during his few months of freedom when he’d first arrived in LA. For a couple of weeks they’d had fun together, training at the gym and helping each other prepare for auditions. They’d even flown to Las Vegas for a mad weekend gambling in the casinos. Billy had actually quite liked Drew at the time and he found that when he was with him he liked himself much more too. But when Drew had started calling him his ‘boyfriend’ and invited him for dinner at his sister’s house, he’d panicked that things were getting too serious and ended up breaking it off. However much he wanted a relationship, he just hadn’t felt ready to follow it through emotionally. And now, years later, he was in even less of a position to follow it through – for a whole different set of reasons.
He watched Drew pouring out the champagne and wanted to go over and say hi. Maybe it would be good to reconnect with a fellow actor forced to stay in the closet. Having said that, it didn’t look like acting was working out too well for Drew so maybe he wouldn’t appreciate the reappearance of a now hugely successful figure from his past. Billy hovered for a while as he tried to work out the best thing to do. He hoped Drew wasn’t feeling too down about his career and wanted to c
heck that he was OK. But he told himself it was far too risky to reintroduce himself to an ex-boyfriend at a party full of industry people. He turned around and walked away.
At that moment, striding directly towards him, he caught sight of Scott Lamont, a flamboyant gay comedian whose set consisted almost entirely of jokes about anal sex. He sometimes played outrageous supporting roles in romantic comedies and Billy seemed to remember that he’d been in a film with Cooper once. Billy knew that Scott was one person who could see right through his act and there’d always been bad energy between them. He really couldn’t cope with bumping into him now. He pretended he hadn’t seen him and ducked behind a giant statue of an Oscar. Suddenly this party was turning out to be far less fun than he’d expected.
Hiding behind the Oscar and having a quiet moment to himself, it slowly dawned on Billy just how lonely he was. Sure, he could put on his usual cheery front for everyone but right now that would only make him feel worse. The truth was that he didn’t really fit in here and he was only trying to kid himself if he thought he did. He realized that he wasn’t actually enjoying himself at all and he just wanted to go home.
He crept out from behind the Oscar and decided to find Mia – even if she was with Leo. After a few minutes scouring the room he finally spotted the two of them standing next to the entrance. He decided to go over and face them – he couldn’t avoid them all night. As he got closer he saw that they were with Serena and Mitchell and the four of them were laughing and joking about something. He sensed that they’d bonded without him and didn’t want to crash their group or spoil things for them. He wished he could join in with whatever they were joking about but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to relax around Leo; he just couldn’t trust him. And the fact that everyone else seemed to like him only made him feel guilty, on top of all his other emotions. He felt like the bad fairy at the ball in Sleeping Beauty and it was a truly rotten sensation.