Alice in La La Land

by Sophie Lee

  16

  Down, down, down. Would the fall never come to an end?

  Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

  Alice stood very still by the lift. The number of actresses in the waiting room had grown from seven to at least a dozen. They had fallen silent as she'd emerged from Zippy's office, and most looked pleased to see a member of the competition in serious trouble. Two were positively bursting with schadenfreude and whispered to each other like primary-school girls. Alice recognised the Kitten, who coldly looked her up and down, and then turned away. Alice squeezed her eyes closed for a moment, then focused on the floor ahead.

  The two security guards immediately returned to a conversation they'd presumably been having earlier about pot-bellied pigs.

  'Clooney's got one,' said the shorter man.

  'Had one, you mean. Anyway, it sure cost him,' replied the other, smiling in spite of his large teeth.

  'How much?' Shorty asked, checking his security radio was working.

  'No, you dope. Cost him his girlfriend,' corrected Buck Tooth.

  The short man snorted with derision. 'Like Clooney doesn't have a million girls lined up round the block . . . Miss, are you all right?' he said, noticing that Alice was crying.

  'Fine,' she nodded, staring straight ahead at the lift. 'Just a head-cold. I'm fine.' She willed the lift to arrive so that she could escape her audience with a modicum of dignity. She felt exhausted, and longed for a cardboard box to lie down in. Her life suddenly had all the appeal of a dirty swimming pool, and she tried to visualise a creepy-crawly restoring the fetid water to clarity. She had just committed career suicide and her captors were chatting about the desirability of domesticated pigs. It was all too strange.

  As Alice reached into her satchel for a tissue, she felt someone tap her on the shoulder. She flinched involuntarily as if she'd been jabbed with a syringe. It was Zippy.

  'Hey, Zippy, I'm so sorry,' whispered Alice. 'Sorry I wrecked your morning.' Alice sniffed rapidly, trying to contain her tears.

  'Oh, honey, don't worry about it. I still think you're adorable.' She paused for a moment. 'Alice, I've sent your manager an email. Just . . . well, really because I'm concerned about you and I'd hate to feel irresponsible, not doing anything about it. I've let her know what happened today, and hopefully she'll be able to help you out in some way. Okay?' Zippy rubbed her arm sympathetically.

  Alice winced. That was all she needed. A manager brandishing a Prozac prescription.

  'Thanks Zippy,' she said, managing a faint smile. 'That's a big help.'

  The lift doors closed and finally there was silence. Alice avoided making eye contact with the other occupants and tried to shrink into the corner. She imagined she was a small cactus in a desert somewhere, Mexico maybe, and that she'd never encountered anything or anyone by the name of Conrad in her short and self-sufficient existence. Her life was solely about waiting for rain, providing a resting spot for the odd desert bird, and observing the quiet changes in the surrounding sand.

  The polyphonic cacophony of a cell phone broke her reverie. The tall security guard cleared his throat and made no move to answer it.

  'You gonna get that?' asked the shorter man.

  'Nuh,' said the tall one, sucking on his teeth. 'That's my wife's personalised ring. It'll only be more of the same.'

  'Huh,' acknowledged the short man.

  The doors re-opened and the security guards flanked Alice, making sure she exited at ground level.

  An actress of remarkable beauty and stature came through the automatic doors, heading toward the lift. Alice flashed her security guards what she hoped was a captivating smile, pretending to be as famous as Britney Spears, who, she imagined, needed personal escorts to her screen tests. The tall security guard looked bewildered. They watched Alice vacate the premises then turned and headed back inside.

  Alice emerged into bright sunlight on North Beverly Boulevard and did a double-take. Nick's rented van was illegally parked on the sidewalk and he was about to be arrested. A crowd of onlookers had gathered to watch.

  'Nick!' Alice shouted, running over to him. 'What happened? Are you okay? What's going on?'

  'Excuse me, ma'am,' said one of the policeman holding up his hand. He was a large man who wore his uniform tight across his middle. 'Can you step back please?' He paused. 'Well,' he said clucking with surprise, 'if it isn't Miss Jay-walker herself.' He shook his head. 'Why am I not surprised to see you?'

  'Oh, it's you,' she cried. 'What are you doing to my boyfriend?'

  'I'm writing him a ticket. As you can see he's parked, literally, on the sidewalk. That happens to be an offence,' he chided.

  'Yes, but officer, if you'd hear me out, I thought she was in possible danger, and I had something important to tell her . . .' Nick pleaded. He was perspiring and his shirt was hanging out. He looked as though he were trying to stay calm, but failing utterly.

  'So you thought, "Sure, nowhere to park. Oh hell, I'll go ahead and park on a sidewalk, doesn't matter if I run someone down in the process." Look buddy, I don't know how they park in Dublin. Maybe you just park your vehicle anywhere . . . inside a pub, up a tree, who knows? In LA, we consider it dangerous,' he concluded, continuing to write the ticket.

  'Nick,' interjected Alice.

  'Are you okay, Alice?' he asked. 'I was so worried after the altercation with that freak, Lenny, I just followed right after you. I thought you were going to murder . . . er, I mean . . . you know . . .' Nick glanced at the policeman, who stopped writing and raised an eyebrow in Alice's direction.

  'No, I'm all right,' Alice replied. 'I'm sorry you were worried. Something came over me and . . . I burst into Celestia Bannow's audition, can you believe that? I told my whole story to everyone in the casting office. I explained to them about the play, and the money owing my parents, how I turned down Starmap 3000 . . .'

  'See,' said the policeman pointing a nuggety finger at Alice, 'you shouldna done that. That show is awesome.'

  'Believe me, officer, you're not the first person to have told me that,' Alice sighed.

  'So what happened?' Nick asked impatiently.

  Alice paused, aware the policeman was waiting for her to answer as well. 'Actually,' she said, looking just to the left of Nick's eye-line, 'they all took it pretty well, and Conrad said he'd give it careful consideration.' She dusted some imaginary lint off her rose-patterned dress. 'I think I got away with it,' she concluded. Alice couldn't bring herself to admit just how badly everything had panned out. It was a bit like a car accident. Maybe I'm in shock, she thought. She would certainly be better at facing the consequences once she'd eaten something. An In-N-Out burger, perhaps? Perhaps she and Nick could head over to the drive-thru on Sunset right now?

  Nick looked relieved. 'Well, that's a good start, I guess. But you think a role in Lithium is off the cards?'

  'Ah, yes, I reckon I can kiss that one goodbye,' she concluded hastily.

  The policeman cleared his throat. Alice turned to face him. 'This is my fault, I'm afraid. I am so sorry, Officer . . .'

  'Grady,' said the policeman, putting away his pad. 'Lady, you've had some tough breaks, I'll give you that . . .' he paused for a moment, then said gruffly, 'Anyway, you seem to have a nice guy on your side here, so maybe your luck's about to change.' He turned to face Nick and waved a meaty finger in admonishment. 'Look . . . from one Irish guy to another, I'm going to caution you, but let you go. I'm curious, though. What the hell was so important you hadda park on the damned sidewalk?' he asked.

  'Thank you, Officer Grady. I appreciate it. And now, to answer your question . . .' He turned to Alice. 'Alice, I've been trying to tell you for hours. Work called. Something really urgent has come up. Well, the other woman in my department who's been covering for me has gone into labour about eight weeks early and I've got to fly back to Dublin.' He looked flustered.

  'When?' she asked apprehensively.

  'In fact,' he said, looking at his watch, 'if the o
fficer will kindly allow me to go, right this very minute.'

  17

  On various pretexts, they all moved off and Alice was soon left alone.

  Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

  Alice looked sideways at Nick as the van hurtled down the 405 to LAX. 'So this is goodbye,' she declared. 'Fuck, what a day!'

  'I was trying to tell you, but it seemed you were on a mission to exterminate all evil showbiz types,' he answered, swerving to avoid a trailer.

  'I'm sorry, Nick. I've been horribly selfish.' Alice was unsure of how to proceed. 'Well,' she said finally, fiddling with her ponytail, 'do you think it would be at all possible for us to . . . how do you think we should . . . or were you just going to . . .?'

  'Huh?' He looked at her sideways despite travelling at top speeds.

  'Look out!' she cried.

  An Escalade with a tough-looking driver and crew of passengers cut in front of the van. It felt as though they would lurch off the freeway and Nick struggled to keep control of the vehicle.

  'Maybe we should wait 'til we get to the airport to discuss it,' he suggested, slowing down and focusing on the road ahead.

  Nick returned the van to Avis and they caught a shuttle-bus to the international check-in, emerging at the Tom Bradley terminal where Nick's Aer Lingus flight would depart. Tired travellers smoked their last cigarettes above overflowing ashtrays, and security guards imposed a larger presence than Alice remembered from her arrival. Nick was light on luggage and no trolley was required. They entered the terminal through the revolving doors.

  'I wonder what an airport bus from LAX to West Hollywood would be like?' Alice mused, realising she was now without wheels. She had left her car outside Zippy Goldman's office where it was probably being ticketed. Or towed. She looked up at the airport's Theme Building with interest. It resembled a tired UFO squatting for a breather. 'Time for a retro-futuristic snack?' Alice suggested, trying to keep her mood buoyant.

  'Don't even think about it,' warned Nick. 'Here, take this for a cab,' he said, pressing twenty dollars into her palm.

  'Don't be silly. You change that back into . . . euros, right?'

  'Just take it, you silly rabbit,' he insisted. He sounded impatient and Alice stuffed the money in her pocket. 'Thanks,' she said.

  'Now, I've ten minutes before I have to get in the check-in queue, or as I believe they say here, before I have to "wait in line", so let's sit.' He looked nervous, rubbing his stubble vigorously with his palm.

  Alice and Nick looked around at the dirty concrete space and the succession of uninviting fastfood outlets. LAX, thought Alice, was in dire need of a good scrub.

  'Er, somewhere,' he said.

  'Why don't we just get a coffee in that charming establishment over there?' Alice suggested, pointing at a nameless neon joint with high tables, bar stools and dead things in a bain-marie.

  'Why not?' Nick shrugged.

  A television blared CNN in the top right corner as they walked through the door. A terrorist plot in London had been uncovered and there was animated discussion by blow-waved journalists about the possible repercussions of the event. Nick ordered two coffees while Alice perched on a bar stool at a small table.

  'Here we are,' he said, putting their drinks down on the greasy surface and sitting awkwardly on the other stool. 'So comfortable!' he winced, trying to get his balance.

  Alice took a sip of coffee and screwed up her face at its bitterness. 'It's not so bad here. It's the sort of place where . . . well, you know, a private detective might come for a cup of Joe after a stakeout in the LAX carpark.'

  Nick kept his eyes focused on the table.

  Alice braved another sip and smiled at him. She took a deep breath, aware she was launching into her second impassioned speech of the day. 'Well, we don't have much time, Nick, so I'm just going to come out and say it.' She gulped another scalding mouthful and carefully placed her coffee cup on the table. Aware she was slouching, she drew herself up to her full height and cleared her throat.

  'I, for one, would love to see you again, so we can give ourselves a chance to figure out what the future holds for us.' She cleared her throat again, although there was nothing to clear. 'Please forgive me if this sounds cheesy, but I'm unsure of how to say this sort of thing and make it sound cool. Anyway, I've never been cool, so I should just not . . . where was I?'

  Nick said nothing, waiting for her to finish. He was toying with a sachet of sugar, turning it round and round between his fingertips.

  Alice reached for some small containers on the table.

  'Half-and-Half?' she offered. 'Ketchup?'

  Nick shook his head.

  'Anyway,' she continued, unsteadily placing the container and sachet back on the table, 'I thought perhaps the sensible way to proceed would be if either I was to come to visit you, or you were to come and visit me. We could take it step by step and see what, you know, happens. Despite my previous histrionics with the suitcase back at Casa Cat-Piss, I realise I need to do the mature thing and see my time in LA through. I've got my audition for The Cleavers coming up, and, you know, one thing or another is sure to go my way over the next couple of weeks. That way I can . . .' Alice trailed off. 'Well, you know.'

  Nick remained silent. Alice felt like a lone tea-towel pegged on a clothesline in a high wind. 'Please say something, Nick. Do you feel differently?'

  Nick still didn't answer and Alice was becoming alarmed. She longed for one of his witticisms, or for him to call her a donkey.

  'Nick?' she tried again in a small voice and put one hand on the table close to his.

  Nick's coffee sat untouched in front of him. The television broadcast images of stranded passengers at Heathrow airport clutching ziplock bags containing bottles of milk. He finally raised his eyes to meet hers.

  'Alice,' he began hoarsely, 'I adore you, but that's my problem. See . . . I don't think I can be with you if you're going to continue with your acting.'

  'What?'

  Alice watched Nick's mouth closely. It was as though she could see the tiny words coming out one by one and popping like bubbles in the air.

  'I just don't see how it would work,' he continued, gathering momentum. 'Now, I know that may sound horribly, I don't know, 1950s or something, but I don't mean it in that way. I just think that while you're auditioning, you're here, and you're simultaneously obsessed and miserable, but then if you suddenly do get a break, you'll be on the road and I'll end up getting my heart broken when you fall in love with, I don't know, Anthony Banderas or . . . or somebody. You know, somebody far more glamorous than meself.' He stopped. 'God, Alice, this is hard!' He started fiddling with the sugar sachet again.

  'Like, every time over the last few days we've made plans to be together, something else has always come first . . . auditions, your manager, your ex-boyfriend . . . it didn't seem to matter too much that I'd changed my plans for you at all.'

  'But . . .' Alice protested.

  'I mean, I want us to keep seeing each other, but I don't see how our future together will gel if you're working and completely absorbed in this gaffe.' He looked around the airport café as if he held it personally responsible.

  Alice was aware her mouth had fallen open in shock.

  'Are you saying it's over?' she blurted.

  'No, I'm just being realistic here,' Nick replied.

  'But Nick, I told you!' shouted Alice. It was an unconscious volume change and she quickly lowered her tone. 'This is all I know. This is what I've wanted forever. I can't just quit! I . . . can't believe you've asked me to give up what I love. It all feels so . . . shouldn't you accept me for who I am?' Alice felt a rush of colour in her cheeks.

  Alice watched Nick swallow hard. 'I do, Alice. And that's why I know that what you do makes you miserable. You're like the bud of a flower that has never had a chance to . . . God, sorry, talk about cheesy dialogue,' he apologised, shaking his head. 'What did you say the other day about always feeling second best? I'm su
re there is something else you'd be brilliant at that you would also have some control over instead of being completely at the whim of others.' A homeless man lurched up to them and stood silently by their table. His face was covered in a soot-like substance and he was missing a lot of front teeth. Nick wordlessly handed him ten dollars and he ambled off.

  'I don't think I've ever given someone an ultimatum like this in my entire life, especially not someone I'm fast becoming crazy about.' He put down the sugar sachet and rubbed his hands on his jeans.

  'But, Nick,' Alice pleaded. 'I've come so far, and it all feels so close, like any day now my luck will turn around. All it takes is one person, one director, to say "Yes, her, get her" and then everything will be all right. I can't give up now. I need to focus on my work so that I can . . .'

  'You know, Alice, you talk disparagingly about other people being self-absorbed, but you are too. You need to be practical, you know, to grow up and face the fact that not everything will go your way in life.'

  Alice flinched. She felt herself withdraw like a hermit crab into its shell. 'You know, a nun said that to me once a long time ago, but to me that just sounds defeatist. If you withdraw yourself from the race then you've got zero chance of winning.' She folded her hands in front of her now discarded coffee.

  'Which brings me back to what I said before,' Nick continued, sighing. 'I do imagine a future for us, Alice, if things were to change. Don't think I don't want you, every piece of you, but with the work you do . . . whether your career succeeds or fails, I lose.' He reached across the table for her hands. His palms felt warm and smooth on top of hers. 'I'm guessing now you're going to say goodbye,' he said.

  'I'll need time to think about it, Nick. That's true. But I appreciate your honesty.' Alice shook his hands off hers and clambered down from her stool. She couldn't quite believe how perfunctory her tone had become. 'And now you'd better go or you'll miss your flight.' She paused to catch her breath. 'Thank you for everything, Nick.'

  'Okay, Alice,' he replied. He seemed to take a long look at her before he spoke, as if searching for a sign. 'Here are all my contact details, if you should change your mind about it at all.' He handed her a crumpled piece of paper, picked up his one bag and walked away. Alice stared at the back of his Nike Air Maxes until they were round the corner and out of sight.