Sugar Valley (Hollywood's Darkest Secret)

by Stephen Andrew Salamon

  “So, her name is Vivian?” asked Damen, following her over to where the party stood. Jose and Darell ambled behind them, feeling out of place that Damen had something in common with her, and they didn’t.

  “You must be ‘Damen,’” Helen said with a giggle.

  “Yes, how did you know?” After his question, they all began to lean against a tree the size of a large sewer pipe.

  “Vivian never tells the guys she likes her name,” Helen replied. She picked up a beer from a small cooler and gave it to Damen; Jose and Darell stared at him with jealousy. “You could say that’s her signature.”

  Damen grinned, took a sip of his beer, felt the ice-cold water drip down his right hand, allowing him to put the can down for a moment. He then spoke, “Why can’t she make it?”

  “Because, she’s working late tonight. But she said to call her... Here, this is her number.” She handed him a piece of paper, folded up to make a triangle. “You know how agents are, they need their secretaries.”

  “Cool. Ah, so what do you guys do up here? Do you just get drunk?” Damen took out a beer from the cooler and handed it to Jose. “Or, do you do some sort of devil, cultlike worshipping that Vivian chose us to be a part of?”

  Laughing at his remark, Helen answered in a quiet, subtle fashion, “You’ll see.”

  Darell couldn’t take it anymore. Seeing everyone, including Jose and Damen, with a beer, caused his hands to reach into the cooler and pull one out himself. “Do you mind?” He looked at Helen, hoping that she’d say no.

  “Not at all. Are you Jose or Darell?” Darell took a sip of his beer, smiled toward her question, and knew he got in the conversation. That was one thing about Darell, he knew people. Just as Damen was good at his flirting, humor, and good-looks, or Jose was good at smooth talking, and his boyish smile, Darell was great, a perfectionist, at finding one thing that he could cause a person, a stranger, to look at him, and say something. Plus, Darell was a little bit interested in Helen’s beauty, the way her long, black hair hung, and her stunning, almond eyes twinkled in the moonlight; he made sure to move a little bit closer to her, and give all his attention to her question.

  “I’m Darell. Pleased to meet you.” He stared into her beautiful eyes, like staring at an angel, and grinned toward her, allowing her to know he had some interest in her character, as well as her looks.

  Jose saw that Damen already got in the conversation and Darell slid in on his own, so now he had to get in, in order to look like he wasn’t left out. But, because he was a little upset and jealous toward his friends talking to Helen, and him staying silent, Jose opened his mouth and accidentally asked in a rude way, “What do you guys do here? Do you just drink beer?”

  “No, you’ll see,” Helen replied, getting out a pile of papers from her book bag at the same time. “Here, take one.”

  She handed them a script, a little bit bent, with old beer stains on its frame, but still it was recognizable as being some pattern of a screenplay. Helen handed one out to everyone who was there, passing it around to each person, this script being made up of thirty pages, it was noticeable as being part of a play. After she dispersed all the scripts into everyone’s hand, Helen walked away from them, climbed on top of a big boulder that was in the center of the crowd, and stood there like a leader, leading the herd of worshippers into salvation; it was like she was getting ready to begin preaching to them. She announced, yelling it to the highest pitch, “Alright, everyone begin ...”

  Darell spoke with puzzlement, “Begin what?”

  “Oh ... I’m sorry, I forgot this is your first time up here. Let me explain it you.” Helen stepped down from the boulder and walked over to them, grabbing onto Damen’s script and using it as an example. “Each person reads and acts out a certain character from the script. The one who does the best acting wins.”

  “Wins what?” Jose asked, finishing up the last drop of his beer; a little foam splashed onto his face, dripping down in a shallow rhythm.

  “What do you mean? They just win ... we’re doing this for fun,” Helen replied. “Plus, this is good practice for theater work. Now, each person has to have a partner. So, get one,” she added, grabbing Darell by the arm and choosing him to be her partner. “It’s really fun, especially when you’re plastered, drunk and stoned, this game can get really interesting sometimes.”

  Jose looked around the crowd and spotted a girl that was standing alone. Attractiveness stood in his view, a little on the weighty side, but she still had potential to his eyes. He walked up to her inconspicuously and asked, “Would you like to be my partner?”

  “Sure,” she replied. Jose opened up the script to begin practicing, smiling at the same time; he smiled like a child, getting ready to play dodge-ball. “Hey, I read this one before.” Practicing down in the Valley sure paid off for them, and Jose’s assuredness of winning this game, allowed an evil grin to erect from his smile.

  Damen looked around for a partner, but he couldn’t find anyone. He was lost, tired, he felt bad for Vivian’s vacancy, so he sat down on a tree stump and stared at the Hollywood sign.

  Suddenly, Helen came up to him and asked, “Do you need a partner?”

  “No, I’m fine. I just don’t feel up to acting this time, maybe next time.” His voice showed sadness. Helen, knowing he really did want to play the game he just discovered, could feel that he was lying.

  “Listen, I know I just met you, but I can sense you’re lying through your teeth.” Helen’s voice, and the way she put her words, made Damen reveal his teeth through his little smile. “Are you sure you won’t participate in this little childish and corny game?”

  “Yeah.” That’s when Darell called out for Helen, allowing Damen to turn away from her and stare back at the sign.

  “Alright, Darell, I’ll be right there,” she shouted. Damen looked at the ground, taking his eyes off the sign; he was sad for Vivian’s appearance being absent.

  “Listen, I got to go now. But, if you have a change of heart, me and Darell will be your partner...” Helen walked away from Damen, and he allowed his mind to be comforted with her kind words.

  Damen just sat there on the stump, hearing the voices behind him, rehearsing this corny but interesting game, getting prepared for their own show-time, when he heard a voice behind him that asked, “Would you like to be my partner?”

  He turned around slowly and saw Vivian standing there, out of breath. “Sure, I would love to be your partner.”

  She was out of breath, her makeup, and lipstick out of place, but she still looked and seemed beautiful to his eyes. She seemed a little hesitant, like she just saw a monster in the forest, chasing her up the hill, but she still held a frozen smile that was heartwarming to Damen’s sight.

  “Sorry I’m late, I got held up at the office.”

  “I thought you stood me up.”

  “Even if I didn’t show up, I still wouldn’t have stood you up. Remember, we’re just friends?” Her flirtatious tone made laughter in Damen’s lungs.

  Vivian then grabbed a script, knowing that the game had already begun, and started opening up the pages to her character.

  Damen lit up a cigarette, saw Vivian looking at the words on the first page, and spoke, “No problem.... Let’s begin, shall we?”

  They all practiced for ten minutes. The first couple got up and acted one part of the script out, consisting of a fight scene; each couple got up and did one part of the scene. Jose and his partner did a funny scene; Darell and Helen did a serious scene. A man by the name of Peter Welch got up and did a dramatic scene, which consisted of making his partner cry.

  During this game of drama, Darell walked over to Damen and Vivian while they were getting ready for their scene. He had confused eyes and he said with a whisper, “Damen, that guy was in Mr. Fryer’s office today.”

  “Yeah, he was,” Vivian agreed.

  “So what.” Damen didn’t care at the moment, he was having too much fun with a game that many people would cal
l “corny.”

  “So, I think I’m up against this guy. Am I right, Vivian?” Darell watched Peter give a good acting performance and waited at the same time for Vivian’s answer.

  “I don’t know.” Vivian’s words were not believable, so she attempted to ignore his question; being that she was against Darell, as well as Peter, she didn’t want to mix business with pleasure. Also, she didn’t want Darell to know that she was against him, Vivian just wanted to play the game. But, she remembered that Mr. Fryer didn’t say anything to Darell about this so-called ‘contest’ between them, so how did he know about being against him?

  How does he know? Does he know? Just forget about it. No, but what happens if he knows about this contest about Mr. Fryer choosing one more actor for his agency? No, just forget about it, Vivian. No, I can’t, just ask him, and do it now.

  After Vivian fought with her thoughts, allowing them to get the best of her, she turned toward Darell, letting her eyes leave the script for a moment, and asked in a way that sounded kosher, “What did Mr. Fryer discuss with you?”

  Darell turned his eyes, faced Vivian with strictness, and answered, with some secretiveness, “He told me not to say anything... ”

  Damen jumped in the conversation, interested about the way they were discussing it with such nosiness, and spoke, “Mr. Fryer has a lot of actors come into his office. How do you know you’re against him, Darell? What are you against him for?”

  They all turned away from each other, and stared at Peter, leaving the middle of the crowd, knowing that he finished his part of the game. Then they faced each other once more, waiting for Darell to say something.

  “I don’t know; it’s just a gut feeling, I guess.”

  Damen started smiling, keeping his laughter in, after hearing his friend say something that was beyond corny. “Gut feeling? Darell, I’m beginning to worry about you. We’ll talk about this later... ”

  Damen and Vivian got up and walked to the circle where everyone was sitting. He was almost positive he would win this childish game. Damen knew, felt a positive feeling, because this script was familiar to him. As a matter of fact, it was familiar to Darell and Jose too, Jose already replaying it from his memory. Before Damen could begin his performance with Vivian, Helen came out of nowhere and grabbed their scripts, forced it out of their hands, ripping some of the papers.

  Helen laughed out, “Here’s another script, I think you guys will find it most interesting.”

  “But Vivian and I didn’t even practice this one.” Damen was angry, felt that this was unfair to be holding a new script, doing a cold reading that everyone else didn’t have to do.

  Vivian knew what the difference was, staring at Helen with shock, Helen explained, “It’s basically the same thing, but with a little difference at the end.”

  They read the script back and forth. They did a very good performance so far, dramatizing this story about a love affair. Damen knew he had to kill her at the end in the old script and now wondered what he had to do to Vivian in the new one. The audience, filled with drunken people, sat staring and watching Vivian and Damen with wonder in their alcohol-filled and stoned-looking eyes; they were giving a good performance.

  After all the wondering, in Damen’s mind, about what the difference was in the script, knowing that it was so far the same, they now came to the end of the page, the last page to the small script. As Vivian acted out the last part, which was the same in the old script, Damen read the last line, seeing it say that he had to kiss her after she stopped yelling. He looked at Vivian as she said her line and saw the kissing scene too. They slowly looked up at each other and held hands. Their hearts were beating one hundred miles an hour as their lips came closer and closer to touching. They both were very obedient to the acting craft, knowing that this was only acting, seeing that they must obey the script, the same way a priest obeys the Bible; but nervous jitters were in their stomachs. Vivian’s eyes began to close slowly as Damen’s eyes did the same. Then, right before they kissed, touched lips while the wind blew heat toward their talented figures, a policeman came out from the trees and shouted, “Alright, alright, the party’s over. This is private property. Get out of here now...”

  People started running in every direction. Seeing that more cops appeared by the Hollywood sign, growing by large numbers, holding handcuffs in the air to be clamped on anyone who wandered behind, the people were scared and shocked. The liquor that they held dropped out of everyone’s hand, making a garden of bottles that lay on the mountain’s floor, being stepped on, broken, and kicked by everyone who ran through these glass flowers.

  Damen ran with Jose and Darell, while Vivian ran with Helen, only having the Hollywood sign’s light that stood behind them to guide their path into the forest of darkness; that’s where the moon’s light would take over. Damen stopped and looked back at Vivian, having his instincts get the best of his common sense, he wanted to grasp ahold of her and finish what the screenplay started. He ran after her, passing the cops and the Hollywood sign, its reflective light blinding his eyes to reality. Damen still saw Vivian, grabbing onto her arm and asking, “When could I see you again?”

  Vivian stared at him, looking about, seeing people still floundering into the forest, leaving the cops to chase after them, only to scare their drunken minds, and fixed her eyes on this moment, this man who showed a lot of interest in his eyes. “I don’t know...” She was trying to catch her breath, bending down and concentrating on exhaling. Vivian’s eyes came into contact with his once again.

  “How about tomorrow?” Damen’s question had sincerity to it, and he waited for her to say anything, even with cops chasing people around him and uncomfortable, hot, sticky sweat dripping from his face; he truly liked her.

  “I’m working late tomorrow and the next day. How about this Sunday?”

  “Wait a second, isn’t that June 16?”

  “Yeah, is that a problem?” she asked with stronger sincerity than him. Her feet began running in place, turning her head every so often to see if cops were coming after them; Vivian wanted to leave this mountain behind and get to safety.

  “Yeah, I got to get my pictures done on that day.” Damen was disappointed: he wanted to see her soon, but life’s games were not allowing him to.

  Vivian saw the cops flocking together, and growing in an even larger number, so she said in a rushed manner, “I tell you what, you call me after the photos are done. Just call my number that Helen gave you.” Helen then pulled her arm, yanked it in a desperate attempt to get her moving.

  “Okay, see ya then.”

  Jose then ran over to Damen and started to pull at his arm, knowing that the cops were chasing him already.

  Jose yelled, “Come on, man, I don’t want to spend a night in jail,” while their legs went from walking to running.

  When they all reached their motel room, Darell and Jose fell asleep in a heartbeat. Being a little drunk, and tired from climbing, running, they deserved this pleasant night of shut-eye. As for Damen, he stayed awake thinking of nothing else that night but Vivian. He wrote in his journal about how this night was the first time he ever thought of anything else but his dream. And, even though he didn’t know it, it wouldn’t be his last.

  Chapter Fifteen

  June sixteenth finally came around. Like a clock with lazy hands that stops every second and rests for an hour was how this day, this moment, this new reality came forth for them. The guys left early that day, with the California rain blowing down like a hurricane, new clothes on, and no hair on their faces; Darell’s razor burns could be seen a block away, and as for the others, their cuts seemed like knife slashes. Arriving at the address that Mr. Fryer gave them with excitement in their minds, it was a new day, they felt, a day they would get their first headshots taken.

  Getting out of the cab and finding themselves on Rodeo Drive was a different experience for them, it was a whole new world; a world they didn’t want to leave, but had to. It was a world of riches, roy
alty, and dignity, seeing people driving past them in fancy new cars, seeing the way they shimmered with the sun; it was enough to go wild. Watching people of all races walk slowly by them, with posture like a board, and clothes that showed their wealth through the fancy, colorful material. “It must be great to be rich,” Jose said, noticing a limousine passing by.

  Of course, Jose always stereotyped and believed the clichés of everyone that he saw. If he saw a bum, he’d say, “He must be a drunk.” If he saw a priest preaching in the streets, he’d say, “He must be crazy.” And, if he saw rich people, he’ll say, “It must be great to be rich.” Before Jose walked into the building that had the address Mr. Fryer gave them on it, he looked at a fancy car parked on the street, saying “In the future, my car’s gonna look better than that.”

  As Darell walked behind Jose, before he entered the building, he stared at the fancy car parked on the street also. He spoke, “Wow, that must have been very expensive to buy, I bet he’s a drug dealer.” So, in actuality, Darell was a little bit like Jose with the different clichés he learned when he was in Ridge Crest. Yet, the one thing that separated him from Jose, was when he said, “When I get enough money, I’m gonna buy that exact same car.”

  Before Damen entered the building behind Darell, he looked at the car that he was talking about, saying, “Darell, he’s not a drug dealer; the owner probably worked hard to get that car.” He was the one person that helped make Jose and Darell think twice about the stereotypical comments they heard and repeated; his intelligence on society was very rich, and full of common-sense that the other two lacked, but wanted desperately. With Damen, he just stared at the car, imagining that he was in it, and didn’t speak any more about it. He enjoyed the silence a bit, imagining his own perspective on these cars, Damen smiled at them and gave a nod with a positive hint to it; it was like he knew the car would be his someday, and as long as he was the only one who knew that, it was enough to satisfy his hunger, craving, for a car that rippled riches to its texture. But, his imagination was interrupted when Jose came out of the building.