“What else do I need to do?” Her voice and question showed some confusion to its waves.
“You need to answer some questions that I’m going to ask. Is that okay with you?” Mr. Fryer’s light, from his cigar, was reflecting a bright image into the window, showing Vivian his mouth, and how a grin was forming. Her happiness, though not with him, made her more enticing.
“Yeah, then could I go home?” Vivian asked as she stared at the light from the cigar, it resembled a lighthouse in the darkness of a beach. She didn’t know what else to say. This was her boss, the agent she wanted, so she pleased him, like almost anyone would do.
“Well, that all depends on your answers,” he enlightened, walking over to the mirror and blowing a puff of smoke against it.
“Okay, then let’s begin ... but could you make it quick, sir?” she questioned after she inhaled a gulp of cigar smoke.
“How much do want to be famous? Do you want it really bad, Vivian?”
The questions began to run around in her head, forming into little, heavy balls that fell into a pile of thoughts that had monstrous shapes to their formations.
Why is he asking you that, Vivian? Maybe he wants you to be in his agency?
She couldn’t believe he asked her that, questioned with such assuring motions as the words came out. It was like he thought it was a normal question to be asked, and to be answered without thought. Her confusion allowed one thought to travel through her brain, enter into her vocal cords, and start vibrating against them to make a sound. “Why are you asking me that, sir?”
“Well, you are one of the actors I chose to be in my little so-called contest. I asked all the other actors the same question,” he replied as a string of saliva fell out of his mouth; Vivian didn’t notice through the reflection of his face.
“Well, um, I enjoy acting, I have tremendous passion for the craft of acting, and I want to entertain people, because I know I will enjoy that feeling. Um,” she said before Tom cut her off.
“Cut the bullshit, Vivian. All actors, if they want to be in Hollywood, want to be here for A, the money; B, the success; and C, to be a famous face that all the world will know. Now, like I asked, before you gave me this fake, stereotypical reply of why you want to be famous, I asked, ‘how much do you want to be famous?’” His tone was strict, serious, and full of some anger, mixed with high curiosity; it sounded like a lawyer’s voice.
She closed her eyes, thought for a second, and then gave her answer, with much gravity tied into it. “Okay ... let’s put it this way, sir, I want it more than life itself.”
“Why did you start working for me, Vivian?”
“Because, I needed the money.”
“No, tell me the real reason,” he demanded.
“That is the real reason.” She became nervous now, or once again, her thoughts of going to the Hollywood sign and seeing her friends and Damen, vanished from her mind, and a shadow of vomiting-like-nervousness set in.
“No, that’s the fake reason. I want the real reason. You know, if you’re an honest person, you’ll go far in this business,” Mr. Fryer said in a serious and low tone as he walked behind his desk and faced the mirror. This was some other game he was playing with her, a mind-game, which caused her nervousness to surface, and made Tom satisfied watching it.
Vivian gave a long pause as she stared at his back from where she was sitting. She then replied, “Okay, fine. It’s because I knew you were one of the best talent agents in Hollywood.”
Not knowing where this conversation was going to, or leading, Vivian’s mind was perplexed toward Tom Fryer. She didn’t know if he was asking this, to quiz her, or asking this to toy with her starving mind.
“Do you still feel that way?”
“Yes ... yes I do,” she answered. Vivian breathed in a low breath, concentrating on Tom’s old face, seeing if she could find out what he was thinking, through his fragile but strict eyes.
“You’ve seen the way I handle actors ... do you believe that I can destroy anyone’s career? Do you think I am capable of that power?” he asked in a wicked manner.
Her eyes turned away from his back and looked straight at the window to his office. She stared at her reflection and said, “Yes ... I do.”
“Would you do anything to become famous?” Mr. Fryer’s questions were becoming personal, at least Vivian finally realized they were, but she still kept on answering them. Tom looked into the mirror, seeing her image on the window, feeling the sympathy that she rightfully deserved, and smiled toward her.
“What do you mean?” she asked, confused as to why he asked that.
Tom Fryer took off his sport coat, loosened his tie, and said, “Let’s put it this way. Would you do anything for me, to choose you out of the seven actors, to be in my agency?”
She didn’t know what to say. She thought about how she left her home when she was only fifteen and struggled her way to California. She thought about how her dad would always tell her, “You’re never going to leave Texas to be a star, it isn’t your destiny. Your destiny’s to be a housewife like your mother.” Vivian thought about how she started to do drugs once she came to Hollywood and how it took her three years to quit. She closed her eyes to hold in the tears and spoke, “Yes, I’ll do anything.”
I got her now...
“Good, now take off your clothes,” he ordered, moving his heated, old body over to his office door. Tom locked it.
Vivian’s fear-filled thoughts were so loud, that a bat could hear her cries, her mind, and how she screamed inside, but censored it to reality.
Please, God, help me, help to get out of this. Please, God, no, not again...
She remembered Mr. Fryer doing the same thing once before. But for some reason, she attempted to block it out of her mind, being that she was successful, knowing the blockade was down, and the memories of his gruesome hands all over her came back like a speeding train, hitting a human being head on. A single, dangling, cold tear spilled down from her right eye as she started to undo her shirt; her hands shaking, helped her to pull off her shirt, the beats from her nerves rang on and on. Mr. Fryer turned off the lights and closed the drapes on the window. He left a crack open in the drapes so the Hollywood lights would shine in. He said, “This is your fate, this is how you’re going to make it to fame.”
Her fears were with her once again; with him drifting toward her and beginning to touch her face, Vivian screamed in her mind, and the only who could hear them was God. His cold, rough hands began rubbing her forehead, it felt like sandpaper. Her bottom lip began to quiver as she thought deep in her subconscious, I want to be famous...
Chapter Fourteen
Jose, Damen, and Darell exited the taxi that brought them to the hill; that is, the hill that led to the big Hollywood sign. The dirt road was full of vacancy, and on its path were nothing but cigarette butts, and endless beer bottles that stretched as far as their eyes could see through the mist and dark. They of course had to bribe the taxi driver forty dollars. Being that no one was allowed on the hill, the taxi driver’s big tip was enough to keep his old, lazy mouth shut to the law.
Damen stared at this mountain, seeing that it was steep to his eyes, and not seeing any indentation near the big sign, he was thinking and contemplating where the party could be held without them sliding down the hill to their deaths. But, instead of thinking about it, he stopped tormenting himself with questions, grasped onto the wing of spontaneity once more, and decided to climb the mountain and see where it lead.
Before they climbed it, Damen made sure to get the Hollywood sign in his view, so that way they wouldn’t get lost. He saw it, in the distance, hounding over the skies, and the lights made the words seem endless to length; this was an awesome and intriguing sight for him. Just as Jose was intrigued by Julienne’s mansion, filled with intriguing rapture that tied around his mind, so was Damen intrigued by this sign, that stands in the night to guide dreams of thousands to its place. In a way, this mountain kind of repres
ented the hill of Hollywood; actors have to climb it in order to reach their dreams of fame. That’s why the sign was on a big hill, because if people wanted to touch it, feel it, and be intrigued by its size up close, they would have to work for it, by climbing the steepness of its floor.
The climb began. At first there was grass that was small enough to be called specks of fuzz, and little bushes that grew prematurely to life. But as they came to higher ground, the bushes turned to tall trees, elephantiasis grew in the veins of the bark, and the sign began to fade into the branches and foliage. Every time they climbed higher, the sign became harder to see. It was like the sign represented the North Star; if it ever came out of their view, they would be lost in the mountain’s tree-filled body.
Tired from climbing and pushing branches out of the way, Jose, Darell, and Damen felt fatigued about the hunt for the sign. Once they came to the middle of the hill, the sign vanished, and so did their sense of direction.
Darell began complaining that they were lost, but Damen didn’t want to give up; it became a mission for him, instead of a pastime. Every time Darell would mention the word ‘lost’ to them, Damen would say, “Just keep on climbing, it’s up there.”
Darell was beginning to get tired of climbing, so he sat down on a pile of leaves mixed with branches; he felt the sticky dew from the grass absorb into his pants, past his underwear, and onto his skin. Damen and Jose turned around to see Darell resting, so Damen questioned, “What are you doing?”
Darell O’Conner didn’t reply a word. It wasn’t until Jose decided to sit on the ground that Mr. Damen Schultz put his foot down. “Come on guys, we’re almost at the top...”
Darell’s fatigue was making him angry toward Damen’s will to move on, and keep on climbing. So, Darell turned toward him, rolled his eyes fully around his head, and said with snootiness, “Damen, I’m tired of walking... could we just rest for a few minutes?”
“Yeah, Damen, give us a break,” said Jose with attitude.
Mr. Schultz stared through the darkness at his friends, only having the light from the moon to guide his sight to their eyes. He watched Jose’s and Darell’s silhouettes. The way Jose breathed in heavily and the noises Darell made through his mouth allowed Damen to know, to feel inside of his mind that they needed to calm down from walking, and rest.
Hearing the noises of this dense forest, and hill of mystery, made Damen wonder if they should move on or not. The fear, anxiety, the nervousness of this dark mountain stung at Damen’s worst, imagined fears, and made his heart begin to start pumping blood faster to his vessels.
But then, a miniature, unnoticeable smile appeared on his face. Even though the warm, dark howling wind grasped onto the leaves, blowing them in circular motions, causing them to create sounds of fright, Damen felt like he was back in Sugar, and back in the forests that surrounded the small town of Ridge Crest. That’s why they didn’t use any fake light to guide their way, such as flashlights, or lighters; the boys were used to using their own night vision, and the help of the moon’s glowing self, to guide their bodies to a specific destination.
Suddenly, Damen felt a stiffness to his bladder, making him forget the thought of his hometown. He walked over to a pine tree, saying at the same time, “Alright, just five minutes, and then we start climbing again.”
He began relieving himself. Going to the bathroom by a tree gave him a feeling of recognition, for some reason. After all, this was what he always used to do, back in Ridge Crest, and the thought of it grew a smile on his face. During his thinking, and recognizing this familiar habit, he noticed some noise that resembled people talking; the noise came from the direction that the hill was leading higher toward. He finished his business and ran back to where Jose and Darell were lying, thinking that it was the party, his hurrisome self caused a little urine to settle on his clothes; not that much, but enough to know that he wet himself. Damen pulled a branch from off his head, being that the branches hung low and stiff, saying, “I think it’s up that way, beyond those trees.”
“I don’t see the sign ... I think we’re lost,” Jose shouted, looking through the darkness for a big sign that formed the word (Hollywood).
They all became silent, listening to the sounds that Damen claimed to hear, they started to clean out their ears with their fingers. Concentration. Silence. Quietness. Concentrating on the silence, Darell suddenly heard something, without knowing what it was, it was still a noise that didn’t sound like it came from nature. So, he put his finger over his mouth and said, “Wait a second, guys ... Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?” asked Jose, trying desperately to hear the noise. Some people, if they can’t hear the same noise, or see the same thing that someone else sees, tend to make themselves see it, or even hear it, without their senses even knowing what to search for. “Yeah, I heard it.” Jose’s fake voice was showing that he didn’t hear anything; Damen and Darell knew he was lying, so Jose covered up his lie with humor. “Yeah, I definitely do hear it, it sounds like, like, oh, I know, it sounds like a U.F.O.” Though his sarcasm was ticking Darell, and even Damen, off, they both still grinned a little bit but held in their laughter.
“Yeah, I heard it too, when I was over there going to the bathroom.” Damen became excited; perceptive that the noise was relevant to their search, and knowing that Darell heard the same thing, he knew it had to be the party. His smile, that was due to him wanting to see Vivian, stretched a mile long, and kept on running across his face. “Come on, let’s go check it out.”
“Well, I still don’t hear it,” Jose said, getting up from the ground, aggravated.
“The noise is coming from that direction, follow me,” Damen said with intense excitement. Darell jumped up from the ground and began following them, like a lamb following the herd.
Mr. Schultz’s eyes saw branches and more branches coming into his view, or the way of his sight, when suddenly, in the distance, a bright light shot through the foliage, like a bright U.F.O., landing and shooting out its pulsating rays. The bright sign then came into focus, reflecting its radiant light off of its body. Damen shouted, “There it is,” with excitement hanging off each word.
My, God, Damen, you are actually here, in front of the Hollywood sign. We made it, Jose, Darell, and I actually made it...
“Wow, look at all those people,” Darell said, noticing a crowd of people under the sign. The guys stood there for a moment, watching this sign that symbolized their dream, ambition, happiness, and fulfillment. They concentrated on the letters of the word, spelling out the thing that brought a smile to their faces: the word that brings a smile to all actors’ minds.
“Hollywood,” spoke Darell with deepness to his speech.
“Hollywood,” Jose added.
Damen stared at the sign, and spoke the same word, but in a more, captivated way, “Yeah ... Hollywood...”
They ran over to the sign, where people were sitting. Not even knowing who anyone was, they didn’t feel uncomfortable being amongst all these strangers; the sign made this feeling possible. Humans, that reached the number of seventy, or even a hundred, stood around the sign and the trees that were close to this indentation in the mountain, and drank beers, had smiles on their faces, and talked while making laughter come out of their speech. Like Indians, sitting around a campfire, but instead, parading around a sign that could be seen two miles away, this tribe of young people suddenly stared at these three strangers.
It wasn’t a long stare, but long enough to make Damen feel eyes on his back, and enough to make him know that someone was going to break the ice soon.
Okay, people, do you have a staring problem?
Damen was getting agitated toward the stares, that is, before they ended. His thoughts were showing anger, and his eyes were showing a silent yell as he stared back at these people, making them turn away their own silent stares at this group of friends. But, luckily, the ice was about to get broken.
A woman came up to them, with laughter in her tone,
and asked, “Are you guys Demean, Darell, and Jose?”
Smelling a little alcohol that lurked on her breath, Damen noticed the little mistake in pronouncing his name, and made it known. “Yeah, that’s correct, but it’s ‘Damen,’ not ‘Demean.’” She gave a quick laugh, knowing now of her mistake, this girl, woman, this attractive piece of work, who was kind enough to break the hard ice that Damen, Darell and Jose made at this party, gave out a smile, letting Damen know that she was sorry for the mispronunciation of his unique but simple name.
As she smiled, Damen knew it was kind of rude, the way he made her mistake known so quickly, he thought in his mind, that maybe he should apologize, or say some joke, that will make her comfortable around her mistake.
She’s drunk, Damen, anyone could make a mistake on your name. Man, say a joke, or something, you just met her...
So, Damen hurried up, grabbed this moment of introduction, and tried to make it right, comfortable. “But, people call me Demean all the time, if you want to, that’s fine.”
Jose and Darell started laughing, being that the way Damen was kissing her ass, the suction could be heard miles around. Luckily her drunken mind didn’t hear his last words. Punching Jose and Darell for laughing, Damen made it discreet so this girl wouldn’t see or ask why he was hitting them.
“Why don’t you just kiss everyone’s ass?” asked Jose, before Damen punched him in the chest, lightly of course, but enough to stop his laughing.
“So, anyway, um, how do you know our names?” questioned Damen in a voice of confusion, mixed with nervousness.
“Vivian told me. She said she’s sorry, but she can’t make it,” the girl replied. Jose and Darell looked around the party, seeing that it resembled a miniature village to their eyes, while Damen looked at this girl, with a smile upon his mouth. “I’m her roommate, my name’s Helen,” she added, shaking hands with him, while Jose and Darell still looked at the other people. They suddenly turned to Helen, and shook her hand, Damen still keeping a smile toward her, and everyone started to feel more comfortable.
Sugar Valley (Hollywood's Darkest Secret) Page 16