Sugar Valley (Hollywood's Darkest Secret)

by Stephen Andrew Salamon

  While Damen was busy trying to get ahold of Chuck, Julienne and Jose were celebrating their accomplishment in first class. The success of the final plan, at least as Julienne thought, was being captured in their smiles, their laughter, like little children seizing an ice-cream bar from an ice-cream man.

  “Julienne, you were great. I can’t believe we actually pulled this off. I mean, I actually felt sorry for the ass,” Jose spoke, drinking his champagne, and holding a bloody tissue to his nose.

  The seatbelt sign came on over their heads, with Julienne mentioning in elation and joy, “I know, but you were great also.”

  A stewardess, young and fragile, came up to Jose, wrapped her right hand around his glass, and stated with a smile, “Excuse me, but we’re about to take off now, you’re going to have to give that champagne glass to me.” She took the glass, and Jose gave a dirty look toward her, saying back to Julienne, “Anyway, like I was saying, I actually felt sorry for the ass. He’s going to have to live on the streets for a while. The hotel reservations are up today.”

  Julienne heard him laughing, and then said to him in a low manner, “Well, not necessarily.” She was hoping that he didn’t hear her, but he did.

  His laughter came to a halt, questioning, “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I made the reservations up to November 9. What can I say, I didn’t want to be that cruel.”

  He screamed, “What the hell did you do that for?”

  “Would you please mind not yelling in my ear? Now, I didn’t want to be cruel, so I added on a few days to the room. This way Damen won’t be on the streets, that’s it.”

  “Julienne, can’t he just get a refund on the extra days? Did you even think about that?” asked Jose in an angry way. The plane slowly began to leave the ground, starting its flight. “If he does, couldn’t he afford a plane ticket with that extra money from the room?”

  “Listen to me, Jose, there is no way he could possibly do that, the room is under my name.”

  At that point, Jose felt like a jackass, arguing with her for nothing. So, he formed a smile on his face, saying “Oh, alright.”

  An hour went by as the plane flew to California, with happy thoughts of fame in Jose’s mind, and happy thoughts of regaining fame in Julienne’s thoughts. Later on, when the plane was ready to land, Jose woke up from a mild sleep and asked in loudness, “Julienne, what about Chuck?”

  She was awakened from a deep sleep, hearing his screeching voice against her ear. “Listen, what did I tell you about screaming in my ear, Jose?”

  “Sorry, but what about Chuck?”

  “What about him?” She was exhausted, and sick of Jose yelling in her ear, yelling out her name, feeble from the anxiety he was causing her, mainly, she was weary and fed up of Jose all together.

  “Well, Damen could call up Chuck and ask him to send him some airfare,” he explained with nervousness to his eyes, mouth, and voice.

  “Listen, I already had that taken care of. I had somebody cut Chuck’s phone line. Plus, I had them break into Chuck’s café and cut all of the phone wires that are connected to the phones. There’s nothing to worry about, Jose.”

  “Oh, well, that’s good.”

  She smiled toward him and whispered, “Jose, there’s one thing about me that I do best.”

  “What’s that?”

  She formed an evil grin, took her last sip of champagne, and gazed at him, like she wanted him to figure out what she was about to say, by performing scrutiny on her and reading her eyes. “I think ahead before planning, and I mean way ahead.”

  VII

  The Angel Now Blesses the Mirror,

  Allowing the Vanity to Have Another

  Chance at Grabbing Its Wings of Hope.

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  “Listen, you just told me that I have up till November the ninth to have my room. Now, I have no money whatsoever, and I wanted to know why I can’t get a refund on my room. I still have four more days left. Now, why can’t I?” Damen waited desperately, imperatively on the phone, for the hotel concierge to answer his direct but rambling question. He wanted this girl, this hotel concierge, to answer his question fast, brief and simple, saying ‘yes’ to him, saying that she would refund him the money. He heard that there was a pause, so he asked with a calm, but immense shout, “Hello?”

  “Sir, like I said before, the room is not under your name, it’s under a Julienne Wells,” the concierge replied.

  Damen sat on his bed, smoking a cigarette, feeling this nervous, edgy moment, striking his veins, his mind, injecting its poisonous venom into his nervous system, allowing his hands to shake a bit. “Miss, lady, woman, female, tomorrow is the day that I begin my acting career. Okay? Tomorrow is the day that I have been frickin’ waiting for a long, long time. I should be in Hollywood right now, but I’m not. I have no money, and I can’t get ahold of my agent because his fuckin’ phone is being checked for trouble. Pardon my cursing, oh fuck it, I don’t care, I’m going crazy right now, I need to fuckin’ swear. Fuckin’, fuckin’, fuckin’, shit, mother fucker, horse shit, bastard, piece of cow fuck, pig shit, fucker.” He then stopped his yelling, calming down, adding with calmness, “I’m sorry for that.”

  He stopped again, his anger formed tears in his eyes, but they weren’t immense enough to have gravity force this confusing liquid and travel down his face. He forgot his virtues, his morals, his divinity, his hallowed self, and respect of others; he didn’t care anymore if he was cursing to this woman or not. Looking at a mirror, right in front of him, feeling betrayed by these tears of misery, he gawked at his reflection, and then yelled in the phone, in a crazy manner, “And I broke up with my girlfriend because she was cheating on me with some Mike guy and my best friend. I’m shit down a river right now, but you can stop the river from flowing if you please give me a refund on my room.”

  The girl stared at her phone in disarray, thinking he was crazy, showing silence to him, fearing to answer him on the phone. Yet, she felt sorry for Damen, and answered anyway, with niceness, “I’m sorry, sir, but if there’s anything I could do besides that, then please feel free to ask. Would you like me to send you up a masseuse?”

  He gazed at his reflection, thinking she was crazy herself, and then abruptly yelled to her, “No, I don’t want a frickin’ masseuse, I want to go home.” He slammed down the phone and began to think about the word ‘home’, saying in a whisper, “Home, I want to go home.” Sugar Valley came to his mind, seeing it in the vanity, the mirror’s body, watching the trees flowing, and the flowers dancing in the wind. “I want to go home.” He turned away from the vanity, knowing that Sugar Valley wasn’t real, it was just a fantasy in the mirror, an imaginational image that portrayed its reality to him in the vanity. Damen walked over to his bed, lay in it, and closed his eyes, sealing his lids tightly together, squeezing the tears out of them, like a door slamming down on a puddle of water.

  November ninth came faster than Damen’s thoughts of Sugar Valley. His tears drowned his eyes while he was packing his suitcase, not knowing where to go or what to do. He was stranded in a place that was evil to him, a place where he saw his best friend become an enemy, a place where he lost his love for Vivian, and a place that trapped him from beginning his career with a star role in a movie.

  As he walked through the hotel hallways, he didn’t think about his dream anymore, all he thought of was the Valley, where he felt safe. Damen was slowly losing hope, being that the word was almost gone from his mind. He was so fatigued at this moment, that the word ‘hope’ was almost lost in his subconsciousness, crying out for him to help it, so it wouldn’t be astray, lost, so it wouldn’t be forgotten.

  As he walked into the elevator, his mind became entrapped in a feeling that was much worse than losing a loved one, much worse than thinking of suicide. His mind was entrapped in a feeling that meant everything to Damen, the feeling of hope. He found hope again, lingering in his subconscious, having his mind’s eye gawking at it with remorse,
and then wanting to forget it again. His hope for fulfilling his destiny was gone; it left him the moment he saw his best friend kissing the love of his life. Damen was entangled in another feeling, the feeling of confusion. He didn’t know of the lies Julienne told about him, he didn’t know about the lies Julienne told to Jose, all he knew was the corruption of his lie, the lie he was living at that very moment; the lie that Damen actually believed he could make it famous in Hollywood.

  As the elevator door opened on the lobby floor, Damen began to realize his life was over, gone, deceased, having no reasons for living anymore. The only thing that Damen lived for was his dream, a dream that was handed to Darell, and a dream that was given to Jose. Damen didn’t get that.

  It was my dream first.

  As he walked toward the main entrance of the hotel, Damen gave up on the past, and future, all he wanted at that very instantaneous moment, was to go back to Ridge Crest and follow in his father’s footsteps of becoming a farmer. It put him at peace, visioning that career that he didn’t want but had to take on, so his mind would be relieved from the pressure of him giving up on the dream he did want, but gave up at. It was easier for him, it gave him another road to travel on; it was a road that he didn’t want to walk, but had to, for his own sanity.

  He exited the hotel, looking up suddenly, and saw Chuck running across the street toward him. At that prompt moment, he dropped his suitcase and generated tears that he’s been holding back for a while now, and began crying even more. His life, existence, individuality, metaphorically speaking, was over, gone, everything he worked for, vanished by Jose and Julienne leaving him alone in New York.

  Chuck came up to him, gave him a tight hug, noticing the tears in his eyes, the way new tears formed over old ones. “Damen, are you alright? I’ve been worried sick about you.”

  He just looked at Chuck and didn’t say a word, feeling the cold draft from the November winter, rushing against his tears, freezing them in place, knowing that they’re there, like ironic icicles of heated pain. Chuck understood that he was in shock, a shock of losing hope so suddenly, so abruptly without a sign, or even a warning. He guided Damen to a taxicab and put his suitcase in the trunk of it. They both got in the taxi. “Take us to the airport,” Chuck announced to the cabdriver, noticing Damen’s eyes of depression, staring out the window of the cab. While the taxi drove off, Damen saw a billboard that was just put up minutes ago, it was the billboard of Jose and Darell’s new movie. Instantly, Damen turned away and stared at the seat in front of him, not wanting to see Jose’s face again, or any further, not wanting to remember he even had a friendship with him. “Damen, what happened?”

  He whispered, “Did they begin the movie already?”

  “Um, well, yeah, yeah they did; they gave your part to Jose, but it’s gonna be okay.” Chuck put his arm around Damen’s neck, showing him that he wasn’t alone anymore, that he had Chuck to comfort him. “I tried to get them to wait a few more days for you, but they said Julienne and Jose stated to them that you went back home ... to Ridge Crest.”

  Damen gave a small, minute grin, then went back to a straight face. He whispered, “I want to go home.” His voice was crackling from the tears and snot in his voice, drowning his words, making his tone hurt whenever it was used.

  “Don’t worry, we’re going home right now.”

  “No, I mean I want to go home ... to Ridge Crest.” Chuck then put his head down slowly and began to shake it, feeling saddened for Damen’s wantings of home, not wanting him to give up his hope, but comprehending that he’d been through a lot.

  They didn’t say anything to each other after Damen said ‘Ridge Crest’ to Chuck. Reaching the airport and boarding a privately owned jet, Damen finally broke the silence by asking, “Whose is this?”

  “It’s mine, I just got it two days ago,” Chuck replied. Damen sat in a seat that resembled a couch, contouring his bottom and back to it, reacting as if the couch was giving him a hug. “You see, while you were missing, I became worried about you. At that point I decided to call my son, that’s when I discovered my phone was dead. As soon as I got it repaired, I called John and talked to him about you. I was so nervous over the phone, that my tears began to muzzle my words,” Chuck explained with a smile. “Well, my son decided to come over and talk to me privately. After a few days, we made up. So, in return, he gave me his jet and told me to go find you. I mean, I told him I could easily buy a plane ticket, but he insisted on me having his jet.”

  Damen lay his head back and looked at the ceiling of the jet, hearing Chuck adding, “John told me he would take us both out for coffee after he finishes his movie. I didn’t realize how busy he really was, until I actually began talking to him.”

  The jet started trembling its body vividly, slowly moving down the runway, getting ready for takeoff. Damen turned to Chuck, watched him as he was sitting in a seat across from him, and spoke with lowness, “I want to go home, Chuck. I want to go back to Ridge Crest ... now.”

  Chuck’s arduous quest to avoid the conversation of Ridge Crest was fatiguing and depressing Damen. To change the subject, Chuck put on a smile, and mentioned, “Hey, I got John to sign his autograph for you, I told him you were his number one fan.”

  Chuck took out the autograph and showed it to him. But Damen whacked it out of his hand, and yelled with aggravation, “Chuck, I don’t care about a stupid autograph, I want to go home.”

  A flight attendant came up to them and asked if they would please fasten their seat belts. After she left, Chuck gazed his old eyes at Damen’s sad ones, and questioned, “Listen to me, Damen, why do want to go home?”

  “Because everything is over. It’s over. I came to California to become famous, and I realize now that I can’t. So, my journey is completed and I want to go home,” Damen replied, feeling the jet beginning to go fast down the runway. “I’m worthless, Chuck, I’m just a person that could only get zit commercials to do. I’m a failure.” Suddenly Damen started crying, not wanting to say his next words, but knowing he had to. “It was a pipe dream, I should have known, I was so stupid, so stupid, I actually thought that I could make something of myself, there, in California. But I guess I was wrong, I should have known, I shouldn’t have been that stupid to think that a boy, from Mississippi, could be a movie star, let alone a celebrity. I mean, Chuck, I’ve dreamed about this moment, all of my life, and what I do with it? I go to New York, find my girlfriend kissing my best-friend and then breaking up with her, and then having my ex-best-friend ditching me and taking my part in my movie, that I have dreamt about for so long. I’ve waited, dreamed, craved, wanted this ambition, this stupid, dreaming ambition, so bad, and it hurts to know now, that I was only a fool for coming to that place.”

  He stopped his tears for a moment, feeling the plane taking off, leaving the ground, and looking out the window to see the land below him. “Chuck, I always feared this. I mean, I always feared this moment, but I never thought it would come, you know? I never, in my life, thought that I would actually see it become reality. But now, it happened, everything happened to me, that, I guess, was supposed to happen, and now I want to leave and go back home to Ridge Crest, because I think God already proved his point to me.” He paused, it was so hard to get out; his tears started to fall again, but he still went on. “I guess I was destined to leave my home, lose my friend, and probably lose my other friend, only to see this moment, and learn the hard way, realizing that I wasn’t strong enough, mentally, capable of having this strength you need to be a famous actor, like I dreamed of. And that is so difficult to comprehend; it is so fucking painful to see that I wasn’t worthy of being there, with the stars of Hollywood, with the great actors of America, and enjoy that one moment, of me feeling prosperous for the first time in my life. I just want to leave, Chuck, I don’t like this dream anymore, I hate it, but yet, I still love it. I guess, I guess I wanted to prove that saying wrong that my father made up. ‘You can’t have everything and be happy too.’ Oh, who am I
kidding? I’m a loser, like Vivian said. I’m a failure who could only get zit commercials.”

  Chuck saw him pausing again, wiping his own tears away, and that was when Chuck jumped in, saying with strictness, saying with passion, “No, you’re not. Damen, before I met you, I was a failure, I failed at everything. My career, my life, and even my own relationship with my son failed. You made that all go away. You made me want to become an agent, because I knew you would be famous. You made me see that life is really made up of dreams, and ambitions. You made me see the love you had, or still have, toward acting. Damen, if it wasn’t for you, I would have never called my son, and I would have never made up with him. I owe you for that, and that’s why I’m not going to allow you to go back home. Who cares that you lost the star role in a movie, and who cares if your friends are beating you at this game. The thing to care about is your ambition, and that’s something I know you care a lot about.”

  “Chuck, I have nothing. Do you realize that? I have nothing to want anymore. This dream, or whatever you call it, has been a pain in my ass ever since I began to follow it,” he announced with anger.

  “Yeah, but you still have to keep on following it. Damen, you still have your friends, Vivian, and me in your life. All that was because of your dream,” Chuck stated before Damen interrupted him.

  “Chuck, didn’t you catch on, I thought I told you already that we broke up. Did you know that Vivian has been cheating on me with Jose and some Mike guy? So, I don’t have Jose as a friend anymore, and Vivian is out of my life. Did you know that I hate the thought of fame right now?” Damen yelled.

  Chuck paused, stared him straight in the eyes, and spoke calmly, “Yes, I realize that. But I didn’t know about Jose or Vivian. Damen, you still have me and Darell.”