“Oh, one more thing before you go.” Mr. Fryer’s shadow came upon Darell from the hall lights, waiting for Darell to ask him something, but instead, seeing that Darell stopped his own words.
“What is it?”
“Do you think I’m going to be the next superstar?”
“I don’t think it, I know it. Darell, you are positively, absolutely going to be the next superstar. That I definitely promise you,” Tom answered with a smile.
“Okay, goodnight.” Darell turned his head toward the window of his room, while his eyes were slowly becoming heavy from night’s nature.
“Goodnight, movie star.” Tom Fryer closed the door to Darell’s room in a drawn-out motion, seeing Darell’s prone body, and how he knew he was going to become what his plan wanted it to be: a superstar.
Darell stared at his billboard through the window, lying and watching as the snow covered his image on the poster. He was depressed a little bit, he wanted Jose and Damen to be up on that billboard too, but he knew he would see them soon, and in his mind, thoughts were born and flourished quickly.
Everything is going to be great, I’m going to Hollywood to be a star, and my friends will be there too, I will make them stars. I promise you guys, I will.
Mr. Fryer is wrong about you guys being ugly, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about...
Darell imagined Jose and Damen up on the billboard right next to him, smiling with prosperity to their teeth’s shine. He fell asleep and dreamt of the Oscars, he dreamt of the trophy going to Jose and Damen. He also dreamt of the speech he was going to give when he won the Award. But the thing was, he didn’t see himself saying it, he only heard it being said...
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Background action ... and action,” the director announced before Damen began walking past the camera on the set.
“Cut, cut, cut, that’s all wrong,” one of the producers said to Damen as he stopped in his tracks.
Ambulances, police cars and fire-engines stood outside of a hospital, surrounded by cameras and lights, props and actors, trying to admit a scene of a killing spree. Water that surrounded the ground, tried to give out that it was raining before, but now it stopped, and Damen’s job was to just walk past the camera like an innocent bystander, and then stop when he heard gunshots flying. Yet, they only got past him walking by the camera, they didn’t get to the shooting part yet.
Damen was tired, doing this scene over and over again, walking by the camera, just being an extra, he was scared when the producer told him he was doing it all wrong. Being surrounded by the crew, made up of some fifty-odd people and extras that made up an average California day, Damen felt the stares toward him and behind, feeling embarrassed that the producer was yelling at only him. So, he stopped when he heard “cut,” and asked, “Are you talking to me?”
“Yes, you’re walking too fast. You see that actor over there?” the producer asked, pointing to the head actor.
“Yeah.”
“Okay, once that actor runs past you, you should be right in front of the camera, instead you’re already past it. Just walk a little slower,” the producer explained.
The head actor gave Damen a dirty look, seeing that Mr. Schultz was holding everyone up, he rolled his eyes toward him, and made Damen feel smaller than life itself.
“Okay, everybody get in their places, ambulances back to their marks, we’re gonna do this again,” the director shouted. All of the extras went back to their spots on Hollywood Blvd., standing still and waiting for the director’s cue.
“Okay, background action,” the director yelled before the extras began moving. “Okay, and action,” he added after the head actor began running.
Damen started walking, but saw the stuck-up head actor already starting to run, even before the Director could give his cue. But, Damen kept on walking, knowing that he was going to hear the producer’s voice again—which he did.
“Cut, cut, cut, you did it again,” the producer said to Damen, getting his highly skinny figure off of a fold-up chair by the director and running over to Mr. Schultz in a panic.
“Sir, the actor started running before you said action. It’s not my fault,” stated Damen; the head actor overheard what he was saying.
The head actor, with his blond hair and blue eyes, hollered toward Damen with arrogance to his language’s craft, “My fault? No, it’s your fault. You extras just don’t know how to act.”
Damen looked at him, tired as he could be, with anxiety inside of him the size of the Grand Canyon; he gawked at the Head actor, and prepared to tell him off. He knew he could get fired if he started an argument with the star of the film, but he didn’t care, so he shouted, “No, you don’t know how to act.”
The head actor rushed toward Damen’s angry figure, got up into his face, and yelled, “What did you say?” He then pushed Damen with force, showing him his anger and even power.
“You heard me, I said you don’t know how to act. You’ve been giving me a hard time since we began shooting at 5:00 this morning. Now it’s 12:30 p.m., and we’re still on the same scene, all because of you,” his anger responded, pushing the star back, but with more force.
A crowd of crew members and extras started to form a circle, far away, but still a circle around this dispute, smiling with glee; it was like they all wanted Damen to win this fight.
The director took off his headset, pushed away his chair from the camera, and walked over to them, shouting, “Listen, cut it out, you guys. Mike, it is your fault.” The star took his eyes off of Damen and looked at the director in shock, shaking his head, he couldn’t believe the director was on an extra’s side.
Mike pushed Damen again, and shouted, “What? I’m the head actor, I should know about acting, and I do. It’s this extra’s fault for walking too fast.”
Damen yelled, “Don’t ever call me an extra again, my name is Damen.” All of the other extras sat down on the curbs of Hollywood Blvd. and watched the fight: the fight between an extra and a movie star.
Mike eyeballed Damen, showing his spiteful blue eyes to him, but Mr. Schultz didn’t back down. He stood his ground, knowing he was right, and stood there staring at Mike the same way. The director stated, “Damen is right, Mike, you did start running before I said action. We’ll just do this scene over again. But, we’ll do it after lunch, I’m starving.” He then walked back to his camera, grabbed a microphone that was hooked up to five loudspeakers, and added, “Alright everyone, lunch break.”
Everyone walked in the hospital, headed down to the cafeteria, and sat down for lunch. The extras sat in a separate room from the director, producers, and actors. The extras had a small room, a room that only had six tables for all of the sixty extras to sit down and eat at. The other room that held the cast and crew was a very large room, consisting of forty tables and lobster for lunch, while the extras had tuna fish sandwiches; the tuna was old.
Damen sat down and slowly ate his tuna. The other extras watched every bite he took. Watching him in amazement, for they were amazed at him standing up to a movie star and arguing with him. Damen felt the stares, he felt the eyes upon him as he took each bite of his tuna. That’s when it happened. The director walked in the extra’s room and slowly walked over to Damen. He sat down across from him and asked, “So, your name is Damen?”
Damen slowly looked up at him, he knew that the voice he heard was the director’s tone. Seeing the director’s young face, mustache that was made up of peach fuzz, and a small vein on his forehead, that popped out every time he took a breath in, Damen was shocked. Mr. Schultz gazed at him and responded in puzzlement, “Yeah, that’s right.”
The man handed Damen a plate with lobster tails on it, surrounded by vegetables and lettuce, with some form of white cream that smelled like it was expensive to even eat. “So, Damen, what’s your last name?” the director asked as he finished handing the plate with lobster tails by Damen finally grabbing it.
Damen started to pick up a lobster,
answering, “Schultz, Damen Schultz.”
The director smiled at him. Lighting up a small cigar, he spoke, “Well, Damen Schultz, I have two things to tell you.”
“What is it?” Thoughts circled in Damen’s mind, chanting, My God, he discovered me, he wants me to be in a movie...
The director saw the way Damen Schultz’s eyes stared at him, realizing that he was in deep thought, thinking of something that caused him to be happy, only because Damen developed a small grin. Mr. Schultz knew that the director was going to tell him something good, after all, he was smiling, and the director was smiling as well.
“First, I would like to introduce myself, my name is Dennis Schultz; we’ve got the same last name.”
“Oh, pleased to meet you.” Damen shook Dennis’ hand, noticing even more eyes pressing against his back.
“The first thing is, I want to thank you for giving me the pleasure of seeing someone finally stand up to Mike. No one has ever done what you did back there. I still can’t believe that you stood up to Mike Montgomery,” Dennis laughed out. “That was surely my Christmas present. I mean, even though this is a low-budget film, Mike still believes that his star quality should be flaunted like a tyrant’s mind.”
“Well, I’d like to thank you for standing up for me. If it wasn’t for you, I would probably be fired,” said Damen. All the extras looked at them laughing and talking. The other extras minds were filled with jealousy as they watched Damen eat his lobster tails, and themselves eating old tuna.
“You’re welcome, Damen. Here’s my card. I’m directing another movie after this one. It’ll probably begin in February of next year. I’m directing it with my older brother, Henry Schultz; he’s co-producing a movie right now with Judith Seaver and some other new coming star. The director’s name is David Cannon, we call him Mr. Cannon,” he said while holding his business card in the tips of his fingers. “Anyway, I want you to try out for it, I’m sure you’ll get at least one of the roles,” he added, handing Damen his business card. “I like you, Damen, you got guts.”
“Cool, I’ll be sure to call you then.” He put the card into his pocket, and started to munch at the lobster tail, noticing that Dennis wasn’t leaving yet.
“Now, the second thing is,” said Dennis. Damen thought for sure he was going to ask him to be in one of his movies in the near future, so he smiled toward Dennis and got ready to hear what he came to California to hear. “Well, I’m just going to tell you straight out,” he added. Damen was hoping he would say it fast, the excitement was building up in his stomach, he was afraid he would explode with happiness.
“Sure, just tell me straight out.” Damen listened closely to the director’s words, knowing that they were words of greatness, he didn’t want to miss one bit of it.
“You’re fired,” Dennis announced. Damen’s mouth dropped to the floor with confusion written all over his face. He was shocked, not being prepared for these types of words, he didn’t know what to do, or else what to say.
“What?”
“I’m sorry, but Mike said either he quits or you quit. We need Mike, he’s our head actor, he’s the star of the movie,” Dennis answered, noticing that Damen’s shocked and confused mouth was turning into laughing; craziness was mixed in.
Damen’s laughter paused, ceased, and ended its humorous sound; stopping for a moment, he said, “You guys amaze me. I thought you came here to tell me you want me for a movie.”
All the extras, sitting about and around the room, listened in closely to Dennis’ words, seeing if Damen was right about his prediction or not. Damen started laughing again, but stopped when Dennis spoke, “Listen to me, Damen, I admit, you have been working on this movie for a long time as an extra. But that’s just it; you’re only an extra. If I wanted you fired, I would have sent someone lower than me to tell you, but I didn’t.”
Damen Schultz pushed, slid, and knocked the plate of lobster tails with force, guiding them toward Dennis, saying, “Why didn’t you?”
Suddenly, the room went silent, the extras, looking around like there wasn’t a director present in their world, stopped talking and listened closely to the conversation, waiting to hear what Dennis’ reply was going to be. Dennis noticed the silence in the room, so he whispered, “Because, I like you, Damen, I like your style. I do want you for the movie, but like I said before, the movie begins in February. That’s how it works.”
Damen didn’t know the importance of a director, not knowing fully how the entertainment industry worked, he stated, “You’re just a director, you’re not an agent. You probably say this to all the actors you fire... Don’t ya?”
Dennis grew a grin on his face, hearing those words that had a false nature to them, he said, “Listen, I’m like a God in Hollywood. I don’t know where you get your information from, but directors are higher than agents. Also, I don’t say this to every actor I fire, I never fired any actor before, you’re my first.” He then got up and stuck his hand out to shake Damen’s hand. “Well, goodbye for now,” he added, grabbing onto Damen’s palm and fingers, shaking it with force, but a sincere nature was also felt.
He walked to the doorway that separated the crew and actors from the extras. Before he exited the room, he stopped right next to the doorway, looked at Damen, and said, “By the way, Merry Christmas.”
Damen ran out of the extra’s room with embarrassment on his face, seeing the extras staring at him with humor in their eyes, he walked out of the hospital and waited for a taxi, wanting to leave this place of embarrassment for good. That’s when Mike Montgomery approached him, asking, “Why don’t you just go back to wherever you came from?”
Damen didn’t look at him. A taxicab pulled up, and that’s when he spoke while slowly turning around to face Mike, “Why don’t you?”
“You’re just an actor-wannabe, get lost,” Mike stated, seeing the cabdriver getting out of his cab and going up to him.
The cabdriver’s stocky body stood in front of Mike with a huge grin, holding a pen and paper in his hands, the cabdriver questioned, “Excuse me, are you Mike Montgomery?”
Mike stared at Damen, showing his grin of a nasty formation, he wanted to show him that he was the star, and Damen was just an extra. Still staring at him, Mr. Montgomery responded, “Why yes, yes I am.”
“Could I have your autograph?” The cabdriver shoved the piece of paper, shoved his pen as well toward Mr. Montgomery, that’s when Damen opened the cab door, and hopped inside of it. The cab was hot; the leather seats stuck and admitted its heat toward Mr. Schultz’s pants, creating sweat on his flesh. So, Damen looked at the closed window, seeing Mike and the driver standing right there, he paused from rolling it down, not wanting to hear Mike’s voice anymore. But, it was too hot, too humid for his pride to go against the window’s freedom, so he rolled it down and waited for the cabdriver.
“Sure.” Mike responded, signing his name fast on the piece of paper.
Damen Schultz started to feel impatient, seeing that this driver was still on duty, and seeing that this conceited star was causing him to delay, he said, “Excuse me, but would you please get back in the cab, I have to go somewhere fast.”
Mike Montgomery started laughing at Damen’s words, still signing his name on the yellow piece of paper, he giggled, “Yeah, he does have to go somewhere fast. He has to go to the unemployment office.”
Damen just looked straight ahead, not even staring at Mike for his words of not so great humor. As he stared ahead, the cabdriver got into the driver’s seat, saying to Mike through his opened door, “Thank you, sir.”
“You’re welcome. Drive carefully now, you have a future star in the back seat,” he laughed out in a sarcastic fashion.
The cab drove off as the driver asked, “Where to?”
“Just keep on driving,” Damen replied. His anger-filled eyes looked out the window and stared at a billboard in the distance, a billboard that had Darell’s face on it.
“Whatever you say, sir,” the cabdriver
said as he faced the rearview mirror and stared at Damen’s face, a face of confusion and sadness, a face that seemed lost. “So, do you know Mike Montgomery personally?” the driver asked, passing Darell’s billboard.
“No, not really.”
“Hey, that movie looks good, I saw the previews on television. It has a lot of drama and action to it,” the cabdriver stated, pointing toward the billboard as it passed even more.
Damen looked through the back window and observed the billboard, smiling a little bit, he mentioned, “That guy up there’s my best friend.”
The cab stopped at a red light, looking at Damen in the front mirror, he questioned, “You mean that guy on the billboard? What’s his name? It begins with a D?”
“Darell, Darell O’Conner’s his name.”
The light turned green, and the cabdriver honked his horn at an idled school bus in front of him. It began to move slowly, so the cabdriver peeled off into the next lane, cutting off a black Corvette, and asking in a very calm tone, “That’s right, Darell O’Conner. He’s your best friend?”
“Yeah, that’s right, we’ve been almost our entire lives.”
The cabdriver’s hairy face turned toward Damen, still driving the cab. Damen’s face had fright to it, scared that the cab may crash, due to the driver’s incompetence. As he stared at Mr. Schultz, he said with sarcasm, “Yeah, right, I’m sure he’s your best friend.”
Damen’s face created a small grin, saying under his breath, “Well, at least he used to be.” Suddenly anger hit his mind, being that the driver didn’t believe his moral words of truth, he shouted, “He is, alright? Listen, I’m under a lot of stress right now, I lost my job, my friends are lying to me and I’m not getting anywhere in Hollywood. I’m just sitting here in a shit-smelling cab, while my friend is probably sitting in a limo right now, and my other friend will be sitting in one soon. So don’t call me a liar. And by the way, you’re about to hit a car.”
Sugar Valley (Hollywood's Darkest Secret) Page 30