Sugar Valley (Hollywood's Darkest Secret)

by Stephen Andrew Salamon

Even if it may be that Darell wanted to run to that terminal, and leave the echoes of annoyance and strangers of irritation behind, he still wanted to make a point, by adding some clarity into the way he felt about this career so far, and how it was moving with great thrust.

  “What do you mean by that, Darell?”

  Darell just stood there motionless, it was like he was afraid of flying, when in actuality, he was afraid of the pressure that fame would bring, or had already brought so far.

  “I mean acting and Hollywood. I didn’t think it would be this fast, I thought it would take at least a few years. Let alone, at least five years till I would go to my own premiere for a movie, a movie that I’m the star of,” Darell answered, dropping his bags on the airport floor and starting to look at Tom with shaky eyes.

  “Listen, you can’t back out now. You just can’t do it, especially to me. You can’t do this to me, I’m your agent.” Tom didn’t want Darell to be like his other clients in the past, his other clients who didn’t last five minutes at the top in Hollywood.

  Mr. O’Conner saw the craving in Tom’s eyes, how they craved and needed him to go along with Tom Fryer; Darell wanted to make Tom understand, that no one owned him. “I could quit, I could quit whenever I want to,” stated Darell. He picked up his bags and walked opposite from the terminal, Tom thinking that either he was trying to prove a principle, or he was really walking out on him.

  Tom didn’t know what to do, seeing his client walking through the airport, away from the airplane terminal, his anger built very rapidly. He shouted, “Hey, I own you, Darell.” His cruel voice caused Darell to stop and turn around slowly.

  “What do you mean by that? No one owns me.”

  “Well, I do. I own you for a year. Remember, you signed a whole bunch of papers back at my office? One of those papers was your contract. Lawsuit, if you know what I mean? So, pick up your bags and get going to the terminal, we’re going to miss our plane.”

  Darell began to walk again, walking farther away from the terminal. Mr. Fryer ran up to him and grabbed him by the arm. He said in a low and pleasant tone, “Okay, okay, listen Darell, I’m sorry for that. I just see so much potential in you, I don’t want you to throw it away. Listen, you came to Hollywood only seven and a half months ago and already you’re on your way to fame, you already have a billboard with your picture on it. Don’t you see how lucky you are?”

  Darell just stared into his eyes. He knew that Mr. Fryer didn’t see potential in him, all he saw were dollar signs, great big ones that overshadowed the past, present, and even future.

  “Alright, once my contract is up with you, I’m going to another agent,” Darell said. He began walking toward the terminal, adding, “That should be in about another five months. So, in five months I’m gone. I’m sorry, but you move too fast for me.”

  Tom was pleased to hear he was going to stay still; knowing that he still had five months to change Darell’s mind, he showed a smile. He giggled, “Boy, I have never had a client as pigheaded as you.”

  “Sometimes a person with a pig head has a smart head, a smart head that could see right through a person’s eyes,” said Darell, handing his ticket to the flight attendant.

  “Just promise me one thing, Darell. Promise me you’ll give it a second thought about switching agents. I’m really a good agent. Would you at least think about it?” Mr. Fryer asked with a low, pathetic voice, he sounded like he was literally begging him to stay as his client.

  “Tom, I have heard a lot of negative things come out of you. You’re a jerk. If you were me and I was you, would you stay as my client after you heard from a director that I was a bad agent?”

  They reached First Class, and sat down. Looking out the window, Darell added, “I mean, it’s like hearing that your own mother is a killer and me having to decide if I still want to live in the same house with her.”

  Tom tried to ignore Darell’s last question, and even his analogy that was somewhat confusing to Tom’s ears. “I’ve never said anything negative to you, Darell.”

  “Tom, answer the question.”

  Tom thought about it, what he should say, what words he should and could do to make Darell’s question satisfying to his ears. He watched a stewardess, with blonde hair, and dark, red nail polish, as she was explaining the airplane safety procedures to the passengers. He then looked back at Darell, and finally responded, “Yeah, I would stay with you.”

  “No, you wouldn’t. If you want me to give it second thoughts, you have to promise me one thing,” Darell said, seeing Mr. Fryer jumping out of his guilt and looking at Darell with happy eyes.

  Tom shouted with excitement, “Anything, anything, you name it. What is it?” The flight attendant looked at him in an appalled way, knowing that the loud noise came from him. She put her finger up to her mouth and signaled for Mr. Fryer to be quiet while she explains the safety procedures to them and the other passengers. “Sorry for that,” Tom added to the attendant. He stared at the attendant and then back at Darell, questioning again, “Okay, what is it?”

  “I want you to promise me that you’ll take it slow with my fame and you’ll take it slow with my acting. I want to be good in Hollywood. If I go too fast, I’ll only fall faster. You got it?”

  “Alright, Darell, if that’s what you want, that’s what you get.” Tom suddenly was distracted by a light that came on above them saying for them to fasten their seatbelts and “no smoking.”

  “One more thing, Tom, I want you to help my friends out too. I don’t care if you think Damen’s ugly or Jose has a big scar on his neck. They are still my friends, and I promised them this a long time ago,” said Darell, watching Tom pause from drinking his liquor and looked at him straight in the eyes. Tom Fryer was afraid to answer him.

  “Alright, I’ll help Jose out.” Tom hoped in his mind that Darell wouldn’t catch on to him forgetting to say Damen, but he did.

  The plane started to move toward the runway, feeling the vibrations of its body, caused Darell to look out the window and see how far away it was till takeoff. He looked back at Tom. “Damen too? Alright?”

  Tom Fryer just stared at Darell with bemused eyes. He thought of how Damen knew about him raping Vivian. Seeing it in his mind once more, Mr. Fryer didn’t know how to get out of this one, so he did what anyone else would have done in this situation, lied. “Sure, sure, I promise you, I’ll help Damen and Jose out in Hollywood. Plus, I’ll take it slow with you in Hollywood. Now, if I do both of these things, you’ll have to promise me you’ll stay as my client,” Tom spoke. The plane began to move faster, it caused him to spill a little liquor on his newly bought suit.

  “I told you already, I’ll think about it.” Darell said. The plane lifted its front wheel from the ground, shaking the cabin in an upbeat rhythm.

  “That’s only if I did one thing, you asked for two things. That was the deal. So, will you stay?” Then Tom held out his hand, waiting for Darell to shake it, wanting Darell to grab it.

  Darell stared at his hand and then thought of Jose and Damen. He knew they would do the same thing in a situation like this, the same thing that Darell was about to say. “Alright, Tom, I’ll stay.” He grabbed Tom’s hand and shook it.

  “You promise me?”

  “Yeah, I promise you.”

  “Good, just to make sure, once we reach Hollywood, I’ll get some papers together for you to sign,” Tom said in a laughing tone. What Darell didn’t realize was Mr. Fryer was really serious about the papers.

  “Yeah, yeah, very funny,” Darell spoke. Mr. Fryer made sure to put his earphones on to block out Darell’s comment to the paper’s subject. Tom did that so he wouldn’t know for sure if he was joking or not, he just assumed it. Darell sat in his seat, he stared at the champagne glass that he held in the palm of his hand. Watching as Mr. Fryer slowly fell into a deep sleep, Darell slowly took the headphones off Tom’s ears, shouting, “What’s today’s date?”

  Mr. Fryer jumped half way off his seat, spilling his
liquor all over, answering, “December 30.”

  “What time is it?” he questioned while Tom Fryer was trying to clean his liquor stains from his suit with a little tissue.

  “It’s 9:00 a.m. Would you like to know anything else?” Mr. Fryer’s voice showed sarcasm, making Darell bust out laughing.

  Mr. O’Conner closed his eyes, reclined his seat, and responded with, “No, at least not right now.”

  “Oh, now you want to get some sleep. I wish you would have done that a few minutes ago, you almost gave me a heart attack,” he said with irritation, seeing Darell’s laugh turning into a big grin.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, would you please be quiet? I’m trying to sleep here.”

  “Boy, having you as a client is going to be a challenge for me. I hope you’re worth it,” Mr. Fryer mentioned, reclining his chair back as well.

  “Yeah, I know I’m worth it. The question is, are you worth it?”

  Tom turned to him, and saw his eyes closed, sealed, they were already in the back of his head, his frontal lobe, allowing Darell to have drifted off into a deep sleep. As he watched him, Tom grinned a bit, knowing that Darell was already asleep, and whispered, “Well, we will see. We will see.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Jumping around the grass-filled Valley, feeling wind pulsating its beautiful texture against his body, Jose ran through its foliage, even though the skies were darkened and gray. “Am I dreaming?” he asked, seeing the Valley’s body, circling his eyes around its darkened but attractive self. He felt the wind growing stronger, and lightning shot from the heavens, startling his figure, he ran toward the Valley’s side, thinking in his dream that he better run home; it looked like a twister. He ran, hopped, striking his rhythm with great speed, trying his hardest to escape this Valley, suddenly seeing a twister developing in the skies above him. He ran toward the lake, wanting to pass it, in order to reach the side of the Valley he wanted to go, he stopped, seeing something slowly lifting out of the lake; he eyed this thing, and saw only a silhouette within the sinister darkness.

  “Take my hand, I will guide you to safety,” the thing whispered, Jose hearing its words through the grand wind, and the harsh lightning that flickered on top of him.

  Every flash that the lightning gave out allowed him to see a bit of the thing’s figure. But, suddenly, the twister came down, sucked him in, and shot him back into reality as he woke up, asking in loudness, “Oh no, what time is it?” He woke completely up from his sleep, asking again, “What time is it?”

  Damen jumped out of his bed and ran to the front room where Jose was yelling from. He ran over to the sofa and saw him screaming at the top of his lungs. Damen yelled, “Where’s the fire, where is it?”

  “No, I asked, ‘what time is it?’ My alarm clock is broke or something,” Jose replied. Vivian and Helen woke up and entered into the room as well, looking at Damen and Jose as if they were nuts for screaming so early in the morning.

  Helen yawned in upset, “Do you guys have any idea what time it is?”

  “No, please tell me?”

  Vivian gave Damen a morning kiss, as Helen replied, “It is, wait a second.” She noticed that the clock in the kitchen wasn’t working either, making a confused look appear on her tired face.

  “Well, what time is it?” Vivian suddenly covered Jose’s mouth; she didn’t like his voice so early in the morning.

  With his mouth still sealed from her palm, she spoke, “Would you please tell him the time? If I had my contacts in, I would.” Vivian took her hand away from his mouth and threw his head back. It was like she was his older sister.

  “I know what’s wrong, the electricity is out. We forgot to pay the bill,” Helen announced.

  Jose looked at her with shocked eyes, rolling them back in his head. Damen did the same roll, he was tired and shouting, “Oh, that’s just great. Now what do we do about electricity?”

  Jose noticed Vivian’s watch, stating, “Hey, you got a watch on.” He grabbed Vivian’s wrist and rubbed her scar accidentally, causing pain to hit her in the morning’s air.

  She punched Jose in the arm, yelling, “Ouch, you idiot, don’t ever grab my wrist again.”

  “Tell me what time it is.”

  “This watch doesn’t work, it’s been broken for a week now,” Vivian said. Jose looked at her with a puzzled look on his stressed-out, tired image.

  “Why do you wear it then?”

  She looked at Damen, and then frittered back toward Jose. She rubbed her scar, and walked away, heading toward the kitchen, replying at the same time, “You know why, Jose. Remember, I have a scar there?”

  Damen went over to Vivian, and watched her make some coffee over the stove, hearing Jose shouting and pleading, “Well, does anyone in this godforsaken apartment know what time it is?”

  “Listen, dude, don’t you even care about us having no electricity? Why do you want to know so bad anyway?” asked Damen in a loud tone as Helen looked for a watch in her room.

  Jose lit up his morning cigarette, gazed at Damen from a distance, and responded, “Don’t you even know what day it is, Damen?”

  “No, what day is it?”

  Jose got up from the couch, and walked over to them, blowing smoke into Damen’s face, and saying, “It’s December 31. Today’s the day.”

  Damen walked out from the cloud of smoke, stepped over near the stove, smelled the nice and strong coffee aroma, while asking, “Why do you smoke so much?”

  “That’s not the point. The question was, do you know what day it is?”

  “No, alright, no, I don’t know and I don’t care.”

  Vivian poured Damen a cup of coffee. Smelling its natural aroma, he took a pleasant sip while hearing Jose’s irritating voice say, “Today I’m going over to see Julienne Wells, I’m going to her house. She’s gonna get me ready for the dinner tomorrow. Now do you remember?”

  Vivian turned and saw Helen exiting her bedroom once more, holding a watch that actually worked. “Oh, that’s right. Well, you better get ready soon,” Vivian said.

  Helen walked up behind Jose, replying with a ticked-off voice, “Here, there’s a watch, it says 5:00 a.m.” She showed him the time, and sarcastically added, “That means I would have had three more hours left to sleep, thanks a lot.”

  Jose walked over to the phone in panic, leaving them in the kitchen, and picked it up, while dialing a number. “I better give her a call now, you know, to tell her I’m coming soon.”

  “Um, the phone doesn’t work either, we forgot to pay that bill too,” said Helen, Vivian poured her a cup of coffee also.

  Jose hit the phone hard against the wall, yelling, “Why doesn’t anything work in this hellhole?”

  Helen placed down her coffee gently, her nerves were flying in an uproar, allowing her to try and clam down herself. She looked at Vivian and Damen, then guided her eyes toward Jose, saying, “Well, the electricity bill was high because of you. The phone bill was high because of you.” She paused, looked at Vivian, nodding her head and agreeing with her, then added, “And, I woke up early, because of you. Doesn’t anyone notice a pattern here?”

  Jose put out his cigarette rapidly, pushing it into a green ashtray on the coffee table, questioning, “Me? Why is it my fault?”

  Helen approached him, handed him the phone bill, and explained, “You’re the one that doesn’t have a job. So that’s why the electricity is shut off. All of us living here causes a lot of electrical outlets to be used. With the phone bill, all of these numbers are numbers that were not called by Damen or Vivian. Are these all your numbers?”

  “Well, yeah, but I’ll pay it. Don’t worry, I will.” Jose then saw Helen’s watch in her other hand. Remembering the time, he dropped the bill on the floor and started to walk to the bathroom.

  Helen, once again, sarcastically spoke, “You’re damn right you’ll pay it. Jose, you don’t have a job yet. How are you supposed to pay it, when you supposedly get discovered tomorrow?”

  Jose
slammed the door to the bathroom and gazed at his reflection in the mirror, shouting, “Listen, I’ll pay it. Now, let me get ready in peace.”

  Helen turned toward Vivian and Damen, seeing them drinking their coffee, she walked up to them and questioned, “Do you honestly think he’s gonna get discovered tomorrow?”

  They thought about it for a fraction of a second. Vivian answered, “I don’t think so; it’s way too easy for him. If it’s too good to be true, it probably isn’t. That’s what my father used to tell me all the time.”

  “Well, the way things are going with Darell, I think anything’s possible,” Damen whispered.

  “Well, like I said, I don’t think it’s possible. I mean come on, what are the odds of two guys making it in Hollywood within a year’s time who are best friends?” asked Vivian, hearing the shower go on in the bathroom.

  “Not very good,” Helen replied, noticing that Damen was looking at them in a sad way.

  “Ladies, what are you trying to say here? Did you forget about me?”

  “No, no, that’s not what we’re trying to say, Damen. We’ll all make it eventually; we’ll all have fame under our belts. It’s just Darell made it so soon in his life, it’s virtually impossible for Jose to make it like him. They’re best friends. The odds of two people making it in Hollywood who know each other and grew up with each other are very slim,” Vivian explained. She then gave him a tight hug, knowing that she crushed his hope for a second; the hug was to embrace his vision, and bring it back to him once again.

  “Well, the plan was for this to happen. Before we came to Hollywood, we made an oath. We said, whoever makes it first in Hollywood, they have to help the other two guys make it too. Darell is already on his way to the top, it’s only a matter of time till me and Jose are there too. It’s only a matter of time. I just hope Jose doesn’t break his promise, I know Darell won’t.”

  “Well I just hope you don’t have to learn the hard way,” Helen spoke with sincerity to her words.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, once a person makes it to the top, they don’t look back at the bottom. I don’t think you should depend on Jose or Darell. I mean look at it, Jose’s depending on Julienne Wells, Darell’s depending on Mr. Fryer, and you’re depending on Jose and Darell,” Helen explained before she sipped her hot coffee.