“Why?” A flash of lightning allowed him a glimpse of Vivian’s face, seeing her torment, and eyes of shallowness, and lips that quivered for a brief second of the flash’s life.
“He fired me because, because of you, Damen.” Vivian turned to look at the Hollywood sign. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted, Damen.” She touched the sign’s bright body, feeling the letter “H” with her quivering hands, adding, “That’s all I ever wanted...”
Damen looked at the sign, and touched it, while touching Vivian’s hand in a slow manner. “It’s all I ever wanted too, and I know I’ll get it someday...”
“What do you want?”
“I want fame, fortune, and...” he replied. Damen paused, feeling and seeing the rain suddenly showing itself, and pouring down on them at this moment, he didn’t know whether he should finish his sentence or not. Vivian still stared at him, and he still stared at her, while the forests moved their foliage around from the wind’s speed, and feeling each raindrop crashing down on the plants, hearing the noises that it made.
Vivian ogled at the sign again, and then gazed her eyes upon Damen once more, seeing the rain falling upon his face, she whispered, “Go on, and what?”
The vacuum of his eyes caught Vivian’s sight and sucked her in his mind, saying, “And you...”
She turned away from the suction of his pupils, questioning, “You want me?”
“Yeah, but I want to know something first.” A bolt of lightning lit the sky for a moment, and they saw each other in a brighter sense, feeling this moment of love even more.
“What, what is it you want to know?” she asked while being startled by a flash and crash of lightning, that allowed her to be frightened for a second or two.
“I want to know, okay, here it is. You knew that you were against Darell, but you didn’t tell me. Why didn’t you tell me?”
The rain poured harder, and started to flow down the hill and create a small river at the bottom of it. “I didn’t think you wanted to know, Damen.”
“Oh come on, you could lie better than that, you’re an actress for crying out loud.” He walked away from her and the sign, stopping for a moment, adding, “Just tell me the truth, Vivian. I don’t want any secrets in our relationship.” Damen turned around to face her in the dark, showing his cravings for the truth, and nothing but that.
“Okay, fine, I didn’t tell you because, because I knew he was your good friend. There, I said it, are you happy now?” she asked. Her long, blonde hair became tangled from the wind, blowing it around.
Mr. Schultz walked slowly toward her, smiling and saying, “Yes, I’m happy now. Listen, whatever happens here, it happens because of, of, of fate. Do you understand?”
“Yes I understand, but I didn’t think you thought that way too.”
“Listen, who cares about Mr. Fryer. He made a bad move, he should have chosen both of you, but he didn’t,” he spoke, feeling the rain starting to blow in an angle.
“You really mean that?”
“Yes, one hundred percent.” He grabbed onto her head lightly and kissed Vivian on her soft, wet lips. “Now come on, let’s get out of this rain,” he added, releasing his lips from hers and looking up at the sky.
“Look, the rain is stopping. Look over there, Damen.” Vivian pointed her finger toward the heavens. The rain vanished into a big, bright rainbow, and the colors extinguished her pain for a moment and lit happiness for a bit.
“Wow, that’s the kind of rainbows we have back home.” Damen and Vivian looked up at the sky; they both thought it was a sign of some kind, a sign from God. They both stood there and watched it, they watched it with a vision in their minds. A vision of fame to Vivian and a vision of love to Damen. Once more he forgot about fame and why he came to Hollywood. Once more Damen forgot about his dream.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Damen and Vivian walked in the motel room drenched with water, dampness and its cold texture pressing against their wet clothes, soaking on their skin. Vivian threw her hair back and began squeezing the water from it like a mop, trying to get, at least, her hair semi-dried. They both felt the air-conditioner on full speed, blowing at the wetness of their flesh, causing their teeth to jitter up and down, making a strict and fast rhythm that made them colder while hearing it. Damen threw Vivian a towel, after seeing her attempt to dry her hair by gravity’s help, and she grabbed onto it with her frozen fingers, running it through her hair, pressing it down over her scalp, like a sponge. As she dried her hair, squeezing the towel up and down her head, Jose exited the bathroom, walked up to their wet, trembling silhouettes, and asked, “Where were you guys?”
Damen replied, “We were outside for awhile.”
Jose gawked at them, seeing that the time was late, and watching the excess water from their bodies, seeping down to the floor, he questioned in a father’s voice, “Do you guys have any idea what time it is?”
Vivian, with the towel over her head, cracked it open, like looking through a tent’s door, and grinned at Jose. Her jaws were still trembling, so she jittered, “No, what time is it?”
“It’s 9:00 p.m.,” he answered, throwing a towel to Damen. “How did the interview go?”
Mr. Schultz watched as Vivian’s hands paused from pressing down on the towel over her hair, and saw her face in the crack of the fabric, showing no expressions on it, or in it. As he stared his eyes toward her expressionless face, he said, “Well, I guess it went alright.” He then saw her eyes through the towel’s crack, and looked away from her, questioning, “Did Darell get home yet?”
“No, I got home about an hour ago.” Jose lay down on the hard bed, and looked at Vivian, adding, “So, which one’s going to be Mr. Fryer’s new client?”
Vivian paused for a moment, and slowly took off the towel from her head. Damen could see that her eyes were puffy, realizing that maybe their puffiness was due to her crying under the cloth. But, then she grinned at Jose, picked up a hairdryer from off a brown, paint-cracked dresser, and answered before turning it on, “I guess Darell is.”
Damen wanted to change the subject, so he tried his hardest to beat the noise of the hairdryer by shouting to Jose, “How did your day go as an extra?” Vivian walked into the bathroom, to muzzle the noise, and closed the door behind her in a very slow way.
Jose answered with a voice of proudness, “Well, I quit.”
“Why did you quit?”
“Because, Damen, I’m better than that, I do not want to embarrass myself by being an extra—that job is pitiful.” Jose suddenly got up from the bed, and turned on the television, trying to make it look like it wasn’t a big deal for him quitting his job. He knew that Damen would be angry, so when he turned on the TV, he made sure to turn the volume up a notch.
“That job is something you need. Now what are you going to do for money?” Damen’s anger-stricken body saw that he wasn’t listening to his words, so he ran over to the tube, and turned it off by hitting the switch hard, showing Jose that he was ticked for his single motive of quitting the only job he had so far. Damen turned his face to Jose’s sight, making sure Jose saw his anger, and added, “My salary isn’t going to be enough to keep us in this motel.”
“Don’t worry, I’m gonna get another job.” Mr. Rodrigo’s voice sounded assured, like he was positive of his predictions.
Damen questioned, “What are you going to do about acting? Being an extra is where you begin.” Damen’s voice went on mute, stopping, pausing his words to the sound of a knock at the door. He walked toward it. “Hold on for a second, we’re not done talking yet.” He then paused for a second more, holding onto the doorknob, he spoke, “You know, me and Vivian have a big scene to do tomorrow. The director said that our faces will definitely be shown. You see, that’s also why you shouldn’t have quit. Extra work pays money and also it gives you a chance to be shown on film.”
Damen turned away from Jose and faced the knocking door, hearing a hand of some kind hitting it with force, he yelled, “Who is it?”
“It’s me, Darell. I forgot the key.”
Darell ran in the room after Damen opened it and jumped on the bed, forcing Jose to fall off from it, due to the turbulence that Darell caused; this angered him. Jose got up from the floor, and punched Darell’s shoulder, shouting, “What the hell are you doing, Darell?”
“You guys will never believe what happened,” Darell said with a joyful face expression. He rubbed his arm from the punch received from Jose, and still kept on being cheerful, adding, “Come on, guess.”
Damen punched Jose in the arm even harder, for punching Darell, asking at the same time, “What happened?”
“I got in a movie, a real movie, I got a co-star role.” Darell fell back-first onto the bed; it was like he fell into a bed of roses, feeling this prosperous moment all at once.
They both looked at him, like he was on drugs; they couldn’t believe it. Jose asked in a vicious way, “I don’t believe you.”
“Yeah, Darell, Jose’s right, how could you get in a movie this quickly?” The blow-dryer, from the bathroom, went off, but they didn’t realize it, they were so involved in getting the real truth out of Darell, that they blocked all other sounds out of their minds.
Darell O’Conner reached into his pocket, asking, “You know the movie star by the name of Chris Rickards?”
“Yeah, isn’t he the guy that won two Oscars?” mentioned Damen.
“Yeah, well, he died three days ago. Isn’t that wonderful?” Jose and Damen just looked at him in a puzzled way, seeing that some rally of happy thoughts, or some happy drug had taken over Darell’s mind, and caused him pure joy, even toward death.
Damen broke the silence, saying, “What you’re saying is, you’re happy because Chris Rickards died? That didn’t sound right. I mean, maybe it’s clear and makes complete sense in your head, Darell, but to me, I just have to say, ‘Darell, get off the crack.’”
“Yeah, that didn’t sound right at all, please explain,” Jose agreed, sitting down on the bed with Damen, opposite sides of it; they both stared at Darell to make him give and show some serious clarification to his words and story.
“Okay, they needed an actor very quickly. You see, he died a day before they were going to begin filming, and they didn’t have an understudy to take his place. Well, they needed an actor fast, and Mr. Fryer suggested me. I went down to the audition with him and, bingo, two hours later I got the part. I signed contracts, one after another and they gave me a script. The movie is going to be filmed in New York; it’s gonna take about seven months,” Darell explained.
Vivian listened against the bathroom door to each word and every bit of language that Darell spoke. Every time he would speak more about this particular subject, it made Vivian more depressed; but she kept on listening.
Damen reached over to his cigarette case and grabbed it, questioning with curiosity, “What’s the movie called?”
“It’s called The Hills of Timmy, it’s a drama.”
A single tear began to fall from Vivian’s right eye. Pressing herself against the door, she wiped the salt away from her image and tried to keep focused. But, another tear followed the drop, and suddenly a flood came out of both eyes, with Vivian trying to control them once more.
While she listened, Jose spoke, “I didn’t think an actor could get a part in a movie that fast. Mr. Fryer must be a very powerful man.”
“I know, I couldn’t believe it either. I mean, there I was, sitting and talking to Mr. Fryer when the phone rings in his office. They told him about the situation and that they need some actors to audition right that second. Being that Mr. Fryer is one of the top agents in Hollywood, he got me the part almost immediately. Talk about a true agent,” Darell explained as Vivian looked down at the bathroom floor.
She stared at the floor, watching each teardrop fall, and create a miniature puddle that a single roach went up to and drank from. But, then she pressed her ear up to the door again, and attempted to listen in even more on the conversation.
Damen gave a little grin toward Darell, realizing that maybe he wasn’t on crack, and maybe he’s telling the truth after all. So, he grinned and questioned, “When do you begin filming it?”
“They start filming it in a week, and I have to leave for New York in three days.”
Another tear dropped from Vivian’s eye, and the flood of tears followed, showering the floor once again with its salted texture, dropping right on the single roach, giving it a shower.
Jose lit up a cigarette, stating, “I don’t believe you.”
“Oh yeah, well take a look at this.” Darell threw a bunch of stapled papers at him, hitting Jose in the chest, and allowing him to look down at it.
“I don’t believe it, Damen, take a look at this,” Jose said, throwing the papers over to Mr. Schultz.
Damen picked up the papers and looked at the front of it. He slowly opened it up and began reading the title of the movie in his mind. “My God, you’re telling the truth. This is that Hill movie. Congratulations.” He ran up to Darell, and began shaking his hand, and hugging him, while Jose started to rub Darell on the head with his fist. This is the moment they all had been waiting for, but this moment was Vivian’s worst nightmare come true.
“I don’t believe it, you son of a bitch, congratulations,” spoke Jose.
He then turned to Damen and saw how he was gawking at them both with seriousness.
“What’s wrong, Damen?” Darell questioned.
“Shhh, be quiet. How long has the blow-dryer been off?”
“For about five minutes,” Jose replied in a silent manner.
“Damn, I forgot that Vivian was here. She must have heard half of the conversation.” Damen got up from the bed and stared at the bathroom door, trying to hear if Vivian was moving around, or even taking a shower.
Suddenly, Darell broke the silence and concentration, by speaking with tremendous arrogance, as well as ignorance, “So, so what if she heard. I won fair and square, that’s life.”
Damen couldn’t believe, couldn’t accept the words from Darell’s lungs, throat, his mouth, that he spoke with such calmness. “What? I’m sure if you lost, you wouldn’t want to hear this either.” Damen ran up to Darell. Anger flowed and waddled in his feet, adding, “Vivian is probably a better actor than all of us put together, so take back what you said.”
Darell thought about it for a little bit, staring at the bathroom doorway and imagining Vivian’s body inside of it, crying to herself with sadness in her tears. He then decided in his mind that it would be better to keep his conceit inside of him, instead of flaunting it to Damen and Jose. So, he started acting by saying, “You’re right, I’m sorry.” Something was already taking over Darell’s mind, ripping out the innocence that he once had, and turning him into a thing of low character that had the one quality of sinister.
Damen still gazed at Darell’s eyes, wondering if he really meant those words or not. He turned away from Darell’s face, and walked over to the bathroom door, whispering, “Vivian, are you okay in there?”
Jose stepped up to him and whispered, “Just leave her alone for awhile, she’ll be okay.”
Damen stared at the door, thinking if Vivian was okay, saying, “No, she’s been really depressed today.”
Damen Schultz didn’t know how to handle this situation, what words he should say, or could say to calm her depression and turn her back into the happy and strong Vivian that he fell for. So, he slowly opened the door a crack and asked again, “Are you okay, Vivian?” But still, there was no answer. He opened the door all the way and glanced down at the ground, focusing his eyes on a small puddle of water, her tears, with a roach still bathing in its liquid. He turned his eyes toward the sink, and there he saw Vivian spread out on the cold tiles of the floor, with blood literally squirting out from her right wrist. “Oh my, God, somebody call an ambulance, now,” Damen yelled out, picking up her fragile body and taking it over to the bed. “I didn’t know you would go this far, and for what? For that
word, that stupid, fucking word.” Damen shouted even more toward Vivian’s still body, showing his anger toward the situation, and showing his shock through his watery eyes.
Jose ran over to him, after hanging up the phone, announcing, “The ambulance is on the way.” Jose looked at him while Damen was staring at Vivian’s pale face. That’s when he said, “Don’t worry, Damen, she’ll be fine. Just tie up her wrist with the towel to slow down the bleeding.”
Darell took the towel from off the floor and pressed it against her wrist, stating with craziness, “Damen, this is my fault, this is all my fault...”
Damen’s tears fell upon her face, looking at Darell, he spoke, “No, man, it’s not your fault, it’s not anyone’s fault.”
And so they waited for the ambulance, shocked at the blood they saw on her wrist, and terrified at the flesh they knew was still opened under the towel. Damen’s tears were tears of fright, not wanting to lose this person, this angel that he kissed under his dream sign. They waited, and watched, not realizing or knowing that this incident would ever reach their adventure, their mission. One word describes why this occurred, and that word is called reality...
Chapter Twenty-Four
Staring at the floor, seeing bloodstains within the yellow tiles of a hospital hallway, Damen stared, fixed, he paused his sight on this yellow, shiny-textured floor, and watched three bloodstains slowly flatten out, due to time passing and gravity taking control. He then looked up, and saw Jose and Darell sitting opposite of the hallway, next to a sign that read Emergency Room. A nurse came and guided them into a waiting room, where they awaited impatiently for an hour, wanting, and craving to know if Vivian was still alive.
Suddenly, out of Damen’s side vision, he saw the nurse waving her hand at him, telling him to come over to her desk. He got up, and passed the sick, and even family members that waited desperately for their own doctors, and walked up to the nurse with sleepy eyes. “What is her last name?” the nurse asked as Damen filled out a form.
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