by Young, M. L.
I closed my laptop, not able to sit there and read anything more, and placed it back on my desk, sitting back down on the edge of my bed and trying to compose myself enough to go into the living room with Morgan. I knew she was watching the news, I could hear the soft fuzz of the speakers, and I really didn’t want to hear what everyone had to say.
In an act of fear, I grabbed my phone, which was on silent, and unlocked it, seeing the barrage of missed calls, text messages, and voice mails. Friends back home, friends here at school, old coworkers—and even my parents, who had called the most number of times. Most of the messages were positive, as positive as they could be, with people just wanting to know the scoop and if that really was me on the television. Nobody was mean, calling me the names people online did, which was probably only because they were so stunned it was me.
My mom kept asking if it was me and to call her back, but I couldn’t…I just couldn’t. I was their little girl, and now I had embarrassed them. My whole family would have to hang their heads now, and everyone in town would know that their daughter, their only daughter, was whoring it up in Los Angeles. I replied back to her through text, telling her it was me, but I couldn’t talk now. I said I’d contact her later, and that I was turning off my phone because it was blowing up. After I hit send, I held the power button, the little logo finally coming on the screen before it turned black. I was free from her reply…for now.
I set my phone back on my nightstand, stood up, and walked out of my bedroom and into the living room, where a waiting and antsy Morgan was sitting. I walked behind the couch, her watching me, not saying a word, and sat down on the cushion by her, my hands resting patiently on my legs.
“Any word from Kurt?” she asked.
“No,” I said, my tone indicating that I wasn’t expecting anything from him.
“Do you think he will call you or something? Maybe he just hasn’t seen the news yet,” Morgan said rationally.
“He likely will sooner or later, but it won’t matter. This whole thing won’t matter,” I said.
“Why wouldn’t it matter?” Morgan asked with an inquisitive tone.
“Because he’s a movie star, Morgan. His life is glitz and glamour, and this won’t affect him. What will it do, give him another movie role? Make him millions of dollars?” I asked.
“I’m sure it’s more than that, Chloe,” Morgan said.
“Doubtful, highly doubtful. Kurt Simmons only cares about Kurt Simmons, and that’s that. If he cared about me, or anyone else for that matter, he would have made sure this thing never got released. Now, the entire world is talking about me, and even my parents know about this. This isn’t fine,” I said with a furled brow as my heart began to beat faster.
“I know this doesn’t mean much now, but it will get better. Who knows, maybe you’ll even get rich because of it. Those celebrities always make money off this stuff,” she said.
“Great,” I replied.
•••
Half an hour passed, and all I could hear was commotion in the street. The blinds in the house were closed, like always, since we didn’t want peering eyes seeing in the apartment at night. I walked up to the front door, Morgan still on the couch, and put my ear up to it, trying to hear what was outside. I could hear chatter, and a lot of it, but nothing else. I unlocked the door, the worn off brass deadbolt almost chipping away in my fingers, before turning the handle and opening the door, sticking my head out.
Camera bulbs flashed incessantly, my eyes seeing dots and almost being blinded, before I shut the door and locked it again, trying to keep them out. How did they, the paparazzi and news networks, find out I lived here? Morgan and I weren’t even listed in the phonebook, and other than some family members, Kurt, and Tom, the school was the only other place to have our address. This was a nightmare. Being in the news for this was one thing, but now I couldn’t even hide inside of my house. I could’ve skipped classes for a week until this all died down, but I was trapped…like a caged animal.
“What the hell was that?” Morgan asked.
“People…people everywhere,” I replied.
“They found out where we live?” Morgan asked in shock.
“It appears that way. I don’t know what to do,” I said as tears began to roll down my cheeks.
“Oh, Chloe,” Morgan said as she got up and ran over to hug me.
She held me, my chest moving wildly as I whimpered and cried, unable to keep any of it back. My head, buried in her shoulder, refused to come up, refused to be noticed and acknowledged. I just wanted to fade away, to leave this cruel and senseless dream. Why couldn’t I just catch a break?
As I cried in Morgan’s shoulder, she patted and rubbed my back, a knock came at the door, almost suddenly.
“I’ll get it,” Morgan said.
“You don’t need to do this to yourself, Morgan. Don’t involve yourself in all of this and ruin your life,” I said.
“Chloe, it’s okay. You’re my best friend, and they don’t deserve to do this to you,” she said as she let me go, out of her grasp, and walked over to the door.
She grabbed the same chipped brass deadbolt, the same handle, and opened it just slightly, enough to get her face seen, but the contents of our apartment, myself included, obscured from view.
“Hello, I’m Chuck Thompson from Channel 12 News. Can I get a word?”
“Yeah, the word is to go screw yourself, you bloodsucking leech. You have no right to be here, and certainly no right to knock on my damn door to harass me. I’m going to call the cops and file a civil suit on your ass for trespassing and harassment,” Morgan yelled before slamming the door and locking it in Chuck’s face.
“Morgan…” I said in astonishment.
“That asshat had it coming. It’s one thing to sit across the street, but to come up to our door? No, that shit doesn’t fly with me,” she said.
“Thank…thank you Morgan,” I said with my head down.
“Go take a shower, relax, and mull this all over. Sitting here sulking won’t get you anywhere. We will take this every hour as it comes,” she said.
“Okay,” I said, agreeing that a shower could help me think.
I walked into my room, grabbed some clothes, and went into the bathroom to turn on the water. It poured violently from the faucet before I pulled up the little tab, the water quickly flowing up the pipes and out the showerhead. I got in, closed the curtain, and took my shower in peace. If there was one thing that could always help me think and clear my head, it was a long, hot shower. There was nothing like it in the world.
•••
I walked out of the bathroom, a half an hour-long shower under my belt, and ran the towel through my hair as Morgan was still watching the news.
“Come look at this,” Morgan said.
“What is it?” I asked as I walked over behind the couch.
It was Kurt. He was on the news, well a video feed of him in the parking lot of some business, and he was getting in his car, looking visibly upset. He had scruff, his clothes were all wrinkled, and his boxers were hanging out of the back of his pants. Was he as miserable as I was? I thought that he wouldn’t care that much, since it would likely do wonders for his career, but his expression was telling me something different.
“Kurt! Kurt! Where are you going Kurt?” I heard the reporter ask.
“I’m going to take care of this entire scandal,” he replied.
“Are you going to see the woman in the video?” a man asked.
Kurt looked up to the camera, took off his sunglasses, and stared deeply into the lens. “Yes, I’m going to see her.”
“Oh shit,” I said.
“Kurt is coming here?” Morgan asked in amazement.
Morgan quickly jumped up from the couch and ran around to the side, almost tripping on a rug and falling to the floor.
“What the hell is wrong?” I asked with wide eyes.
“If Kurt Simmons, the Kurt Simmons is coming to my apartment then I…I need
to look presentable,” Morgan said before running to her room to get clothes and then into the bathroom, with the fan inside still running.
I watched as Kurt got into his car, slowly waded through the sea of paparazzi, and was presumably on his way here. Did he try and contact me since I turned off my phone? He looked as though he had just woken up or something, so it must’ve been recently. I wanted to turn on my phone to see, but I didn’t…I couldn’t. I took a deep breath and realized he was on his way here anyway. Even if I did get my phone and text him, he’d be here before I even knew it. I would never be able to get a reply and prepare myself. All I could do was ready myself as best as I could and prepare for the maelstrom that was coming.
I wrapped the towel around my head and scrubbed my head to get every last drop of water that I could from my head. If the cameras catch me, and I have a feeling they would, I didn’t want to look like some troll who just came out of hibernation.
I never thought my life could end up like this. I thought I was safe…I thought I was anonymous. You better have a good explanation for all of this, Kurt. You ruined my life, and with one fell swoop, I can ruin yours, too.
Chapter Eighteen
Never in a million years had I have thought, especially just the other month, that my life would change this drastically. It was funny, thinking of myself, my dorky and innocent self, sitting in class, oblivious to the world. Barely doing cam modeling on the side for a few extra dollars, really not that much per month, but just enough to get by on. I was happy, even if I wasn’t doing that great. I might not have had a man in my life, but I got by. I would give anything to go back to that point in my life. I didn’t care about the money I made on cam, or the thousands upon thousands of new followers on my account, who could all contribute greatly to my income. No, all of that didn’t matter. I was now going to be branded as the girl who made a desperate sex tape with Kurt Simmons. All of the tabloids were already talking about it. The news shows had “experts” that said how my behavior was a desperate cry for help. How in the hell could they know any of that? Nobody, especially not those half-wit shrinks, knew anything about me or my life. I wasn’t some crack whore rave girl who just jumped on top of Kurt. I was a real girl…a good girl.
“They’re really swarming out there,” Morgan said as she peered through the front blinds.
“How many?” I asked as I continued to sit on the couch, with the ambient noise of the news in the background.
“God…I really don’t know, Chloe. Maybe fifty to a hundred?”
“You believe me…right?” I asked.
Morgan turned around and looked at me in confusion. “Believe you about what?”
“Well, that the tape was a mistake. Kurt just set it up. The news is saying I’m some desperate girl that made some hidden tape and that Kurt is some big victim. You believe that that’s not the case, right?” I asked.
“Of course I believe you,” Morgan said as she came and sat next to me on the couch. “You’re my best friend, and if you say that’s what happened, then that’s what happened.”
I nodded and agreed with her—agreed with myself—that this wasn’t my fault. As we sat there in silence, watching the news stories, a commotion started outside, something big. Morgan got up from the couch and walked over to the blinds, barely looking out, as her demeanor changed.
“Uh, Chloe,” she said.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“You might want to get over here and see this,” she said.
“What now?” I asked with an exasperated tone as I got up and walked over to the window.
Kurt…it was Kurt. He had parked on the side of the road, his red car like a colorful beacon in the crowd of people, and the camera bulbs were going crazy as he shielded his eyes, even though he had sunglasses still on. This was it…he was here to yell at me. I knew he was going to blame me for all this. He was going to say I was desperate for attention, and when he didn’t give it to me, I went to the media to spite him. I knew it sounded farfetched, but Kurt wasn’t always the most rational and sweet man. Hell, he had a sex dungeon in his house!
Morgan and I both watched Kurt walk up the stairs, our eyes peering out of the little holes in the blinds that the strings weaved through. Nobody could see us, but we could see each and every one of them.
“It’s him…it’s really him,” Morgan said in shock.
A knock came to the door, a loud one. It wasn’t quite a pound, and he was using his knuckles, but a sleeping sloth would shoot out of bed to answer this kind of door knock.
I put my fingers on the deadbolt, took a deep breath, and unlocked it, before opening the door just enough. There he was, in all his glory, his disheveled glory.
“May I come in?” he asked, his monotonic tone showing his distaste for this situation.
“Yes,” I said before he squeezed in the tight opening.
I quickly closed and locked the door once again, keeping the nosy reporters outside, as he took off his sunglasses and looked around the darkened room, as all of the blinds were sealed shut.
Morgan stood there in shock, unable to say a word. I thought I could go whitewater rafting in the drool that was flowing out of her opened mouth.
“Hi…hi. My name is Morgan, and I’m such a big fan of your work,” she said as she stared at him with the intensity of a thousand suns.
“Oh, that’s nice…thanks,” he replied, clearly not caring about her right now.
“It’s my pleasure, Mr. Simmons. I especially loved you in Officer Cheero: Chimp Cop.”
“Once again, thanks. What’s your name again?” Kurt asked.
“It’s…it’s Morgan, sir,” she said happily.
“Morgan, great name. Could you do me a favor and let Chloe and I have a few minutes alone? It’s very important,” he said.
“Yes! Call me when you’re ready!” Morgan exclaimed happily before shuffling off into her room.
“What are you doing here, Kurt? I thought you were done with me or whatever,” I said.
“Yeah, and I thought you were done with me. Your whole attitude at the premiere wasn’t exactly one I loved, to be honest, but I think you know why I’m here,” he said.
“I didn’t do anything wrong, Kurt. If anyone is to blame, it’s you!”
“What, you think I did this?” he asked defensively.
“Well, who the hell else could have? You are the one who wanted to take a video of us. You are the one who took the camera with him. You are the one who was supposed to keep it a secret,” I shouted, my nerves leaving my body with each reason I gave.
“I told you I didn’t want it to get out. I don’t know who got a hold of it or leaked it, but it wasn’t me, Chloe. Do you think I’d really do that to you? I care about you, Chloe, you’re an amazing girl. I’d rather it happen to me and not you. I’d rather take the brunt of it and keep you safe,” Kurt said as he paced around the small foyer near the front door.
“What…what do you mean by that? Why would you rather take it and save me from it?” I asked.
“Because, Chloe. You don’t deserve this. I…I can take this kind of bullshit. I’ve had everything said about me and done to me that can happen. Scandals, rumors, bad press…everything! You, on the other hand…you are special…you are normal. Something like this can hurt you. It could prevent you from getting a job, or going out normally in public, or even finding someone. Those things won’t happen to me. As embarrassing as it is to have this happen to me, it won’t have these huge long-term effects like it will to you,” Kurt said passionately.
A tear rolled down my reddened cheek, and I tried to comprehend and process his entire speech. Why does he care this much about me? I was just an afterthought to him at the premiere. Now…now he was calling me special.
“Do you really mean that? Do you think I’m special?” I asked.
“Of course. You’re the first girl I’ve met that I actually liked. The first girl who hasn’t tried to get things from me or use my fame to her own a
dvantage.”
“Then why…why have you avoided me like the plague? Why did you treat me like shit at the premiere? Why did you not talk to me?” I asked with tears rolling down my cheeks.
“I knew this would come up,” he said as he paced around further.
“Why Kurt? I need to know why,” I shouted, now becoming hysterical.
“Because!” Kurt yelled as he turned around and looked at me. “I was terrified of you…terrified of everything you stood for. I’ve never been in some great relationship, and you, with your loving glances and cute little kisses…were too much for me. Then, when that guy you like hit me, it was like it all became too real. I was afraid of what we could become,” Kurt passionately said.
“Now we can’t become anything,” I replied, my voice considerably lower than before.
“Don’t say that…not now.”
“It’s true! Do you really think you can come into my life, ditch me, come back in, ditch me, and then finally get me again? No Kurt, you can’t! I’m not some toy that you can play with when you want to.”
“Don’t you have feelings for me? We could have something great. Trips to Napa, Paris, Geneva—“
“I don’t care about all of that shit! I don’t! Do you think your money or your fame has any bearing over me? Sure, Napa was a great time, and I enjoyed myself immensely, but it doesn’t matter. I thought you would’ve seen by now that all I care about is spending time with my partner. I don’t care if they have a million dollars or ten dollars in their bank account.”
“All I know is that I care about you, Chloe. I truly do. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here right now. I could’ve played off this whole tape in the media if I didn’t care. You know what I did instead? I came here to make sure you were okay; to think of a way out of this.”
He was partially right. Maybe he could’ve just played it off as some hoax or joke in the media. I could’ve been a pawn in the larger game of his life. He never would’ve had to talk to me again, and his beautifully rich and famous life would’ve gone on like nothing ever happened. Even with all that, with all of the easiness, he came here…to see me.