by Jen Calonita
“I’m going to kill her,” Sky declares, moving swiftly to the stage. I try to pull her back, but it’s no use. She may be bony, but she’s got strong upper body muscles.
“Our bigger problem is finding Tom, remember?” I hiss as Sky pushes aside a P.A., a grip, and two cameramen to reach her target. Alexis folds her arms across her chest and waits defiantly as Matty stares at my approaching frame in horror.
“Kaitlin, I . . .” Matty starts to say nervously. I look away and he stops talking.
“What do you two want?” Alexis snaps. “Are you here to pull another five-hundred-dollar extension out of my hair?”
“You mean ninety. Fake strands like yours could only come from the Jessica Simpson hair collection,” Sky retorts, smoothing her black hair, which is back to its natural fullness thanks to a very good weave.
Alexis stares at us. “Shouldn’t you two be off cleaning out your dressing rooms?”
“What is she talking about?” Matty asks.
“Your sister and Sky have been fired,” Alexis says giddily. “The network has decided to get rid of the problem.”
“Nice try,” I reply bitterly, “but guess what? No one has canned us. Sorry, but your dreams of FA being a one-woman show will have to stay in fantasyland.”
Alexis smiles. “It may not be a one-woman show yet, but it’s a one-daughter show, that’s for sure.”
“What?” Matt whispers. Sky thrusts her new script pages at him.
“You love causing drama, don’t you?” I ask Alexis, not expecting an answer. Something about her coy expression makes me more furious. “It just goes to show how inexperienced you are. Let me give you some advice: I don’t care how great the ratings are, no one puts up with a manipulative amateur like you for too long.” Take that! “And you can forget about Sky and me cleaning out our dressing rooms.
We’re not filming these new pages till we talk to Tom.” I fold my arms across my chest to keep from shaking.
“Then you really will be fired,” Alexis purrs. “I’m sure the press would love to get an anonymous tip about how you two held up production yet again.”
“Oh, you’re good,” Sky comments. “But I’m better. Don’t mess with the master of deception. I’ve been ruining K’s set life for years.”
“Yeah,” I back her up. Oh wait . . .
“And if you go so far as take your cell out of your bag, I’ll text Brian Bennett and tell him all about your little trip to Palm Springs for lipo.”
“How do you know about that?” Alexis stutters.
“I have my ways,” Sky says smugly.
Wow, Sky’s good. It’s kind of fun to watch her in action when I’m not on the receiving end.
“This says Sam and Sara aren’t Paige’s daughters!” Matty exclaims to no one in particular, having finished reading. “These pages can’t be real.”
“Oh, they’re real all right, Marty,” Alexis says, not taking her eyes off Sky and me.
“It’s Matty,” he corrects her.
“Your sister is a goner,” Alexis continues unphased. “The studio has finally decided that they’re tired of her and Sky’s behavior on set. These pages prove they’ve finally decided to get rid of them. And they’re keeping me fulltime instead.”
Alexis steps closer to Sky so that the two of them are face-to-face. I move closer too. I try to slide in between them. “Try something,” I dare. Matty grabs my arm. I smack it away. “Two against one are great odds.”
“You wouldn’t make a move, cupcake,” Alexis taunts. “Not in front of all these people. You wouldn’t want to ruin your pathetic good-girl image.”
“Watch it,” warns Sky.
“Ladies, is there a problem here?” Phil Marker, this week’s guest director, asks. He’s shot several shows for FA over the years.
I turn around. “Yes, we have a big problem with the new pages and we’re not filming a word of them till we see Tom.”
Phil nods. “I know. I was just talking to Becky about them, and the whole daughter switcheroo seems to come out of left field.”
Phil understands! Thank God. I always knew he was a reasonable guy. “So then you agree we have to talk to Tom before even proceeding with rehearsals,” I say.
Phil frowns. “Well, Becky said she wasn’t in any writing meetings where they talked about switching gears on the Colby storyline, but that’s why we think maybe it came from the top. The bottom line is, Tom wouldn’t have distributed the changes if it wasn’t what he wanted, and he told me not to call him unless the set is on fire, we’ve been canceled, or there is a sudden flu epidemic.”
“I think this qualifies as an emergency, Phil,” I point out.
My mind is racing. Think, Kaitlin! “What if these pages weren’t approved by Tom? You admit they’re totally out of character. Can’t we shoot another scene until Tom emerges?”
Phil shakes his head. “I wish we could, Kaitlin, but this is the scene we’re set up for and we’re already so behind and over budget because of the delays that we don’t have time to change things. I have no choice.”
“It’s okay, Philly,” Alexis coos. “We know you’re just doing your job.”
“Maybe we can start shooting another scene in the foyer and shoot this one tomorrow after we talk to Tom,” Sky says desperately. “Something just seems fishy here, Phil. I’d hate to waste the network’s money on a scene that isn’t written that well.”
“Are you saying our writers are shoddy?” Alexis tsks. “I’d hate for them to hear you say that. They work so hard.”
Sky glares at her.
“You sound just like Melli, Sky,” Phil says. “I just spent an hour in her dressing room trying to coax her out here and fifteen minutes in Spencer’s. She was unbelievably upset when she got the pages and she and Spencer begged me to track down Tom. They’re on their way down here now to talk to you two.”
I look at Sky. Maybe we can all band together and stage a mutiny!
“I told them the same thing I’m telling you: Tom is the head honcho,” Phil is saying. “I’m surprised he didn’t warn me about this new direction with the show, but I don’t think I can argue. We have to assume he wouldn’t have printed these pages unless he wanted to end the episode this way.”
“Oh my God.” I am hyperventilating. “This is really happening.” I can’t breathe.
“Kaitlin, you’ve got to calm down,” Phil says, grabbing my arm with concern.
“Sky? Kaitlin? Are you okay?” Melli and Spencer have just busted through the double doors and are running toward us with looks of deep concern. Melli’s still wearing her between-scenes bathrobe and Spencer is in gym shorts and a basketball tee. Neither of them looks ready to film. Melli pulls us into a hug, much like our real moms would.
“Don’t get upset,” Spencer says in his deep voice. “We’re going to get to the bottom of what’s going on. You two aren’t going anywhere.”
Phil looks at his watch. “Now that everyone’s here, we should really start filming. If you wouldn’t mind getting into wardrobe —”
“Phil!” Melli reprimands, cutting him off. “How can you ask us to shoot right now when the girls are so upset?”
“I’m sorry! We’re really behind and I have to get this to postproduction today!” Phil is starting to sound agitated. “Tom will kill me if we don’t shoot this. Please, just do this and I promise you can talk to Tom later.”
Sky shakes her head no. I do too and stand next to Sky in solidarity. I can hear my heart. The beat is faster than a freight train.
Phil shakes his head. “Ladies, please. If you don’t shoot, I’m going to have to dock your pay and call the network, who will probably say you’re in breach of your contracts.”
“I don’t want that to happen.” Melli glances back and forth between the two of us, her voice soft yet stern. “You don’t need more problems right now. Let’s do what Phil says and then afterward Spencer and I will both go with you to find Tom.”
I look at Spencer and
he nods. “We promise.”
Sky’s eyes are welling with tears again just like my own. I know I can’t go through with this. I can’t film this scene. Not like this. Not now.
“Make the call, Phil.” I’m shaking. I’ve never defied Melli or Spencer before. “Sky and I are not filming anything until Tom calls us and tells us to do it. He’s the only person we trust.”
“I agree,” Sky says solemnly. “We’re not filming a word of this crap. You know Kaitlin and me. You’ve shot scenes with us since we were little kids! Tom wouldn’t do something so drastic without telling us first.” Sky sounds strong and her voice echoes in the cavernous room. I notice some of the cameramen stop what they’re doing and stare.
“Please,” Melli tries again. “Think of your future.”
“Kates, be reasonable,” Matt begs. “We’ll get ahold of Tom. Just film the scene, okay? Can you imagine what Mom will say when she hears you refused to film?”
“I’m sorry, everyone,” I say hoarsely. “Sky’s right. You don’t make important, life-changing decisions like this without telling your actors first. This isn’t Lost. You can’t just practically kill us off without warning. We’re a big part of FA and we both deserve some respect. We’ve been on this show our whole lives!”
Phil has his head in his hands. “ENOUGH,” he says. “You have ten minutes to hit your marks. After that, I’m calling the network.” He walks off to get ready and Melli and Spencer trail after him, badgering him not to do this.
“Wow, girls, thanks,” Alexis says gleefully. “I thought I had to kick you guys off to get more airtime. Who knew you would go so willingly?”
“Alexis,” Matty says, looking beyond hurt. “My sister’s right about you. You have it out for her. What did she ever do to you?”
“Truthfully, nothing. But she’s standing in the way of me getting what I want, and I can’t let that happen,” Alexis admits with a sick smile. “She’s hogged the spotlight for years. Now it’s my turn. Don’t look so wounded, Marty,” Alexis adds. “It makes you look pathetic.”
“I’ll tell you what’s pathetic,” Sky declares. “Filming this crap. You want a solo show, Alexis? Shoot this one alone. Kaitlin and I are out of here.”
Sky grabs my arm. I hesitate for a moment, looking from Phil yelling into his cell phone, to Matty, to the group of grips and workers who have slowly gathered to watch the latest altercation. I can’t believe it, but for the first time ever, I’m about to walk off set in the middle of a workday.
“K, let’s go,” Sky says through clenched teeth. I see her mascara has started to run again. “Kaitlin, don’t do this,” Matty begs. “I’m sorry, Matty, but what’s right is right,” I say over my shoulder, and with that, Sky and I exit stage left.
FRIDAY 11/1
NOTE TO SELF:
Call Nadine. Warn Laney. Have her calm down Mom.
Reach Austin and Lizzie.
Make Nadine unplug all TiVos in the house 2 avoid them seeing Access or Celeb Insider. We’re going 2 be on it.
Thirteen: Crossroads
“Where are we going?” I ask as Sky drags me from the building and into the street in front of our soundstage. “I thought we were barricading ourselves in our dressing rooms and waiting for Tom.” The back lot is buzzing with activity as usual and golf carts and Range Rovers whiz by. A loud honk tells us to move our debate onto the sidewalk.
Sky shakes her head. “Melli and Spencer will find us and push us to shoot the scene. We’re better off getting as far away from FA as we can.”
I think for a moment and realize I actually agree with her. “We’ll leave Tom a message and tell him we urgently need to talk to him,” I suggest. “That way no one can accuse us of completely bailing.” I quickly dial his number and it goes right to voice mail. I leave a message from the two of us and hang up, my stomach doing cartwheels. “Maybe we should call our managers and publicists and tell them what’s going on too,” I add.
“Are you crazy?” Sky snaps. “My mom-ager will force me to go back without even listening to why I left in the first place. Maybe your mom is different, but I’m certainly not calling mine.”
On second thought, maybe I shouldn’t call Mom or Laney yet.
Sky’s eyes begin to brim with tears and I awkwardly put my arm around her. As I pat her back, Sky stops crying and starts to laugh.
“This is weird,” she says as she uses her right index finger to fix her smudged mascara. “You’re the last person I thought I would ever cry in front of.”
“I always thought if I walked off set, it would be because of you, not with you.” I feel myself getting teary too. “But here we are.”
“Here we are,” Sky repeats. She takes a deep breath. “Okay, enough moping. Let’s get out of here before someone spots us. Do you have a car? My driver dropped me off this morning and my security is off today so he can take his Prius to the shop.”
I frown. “We’ll have to call Rodney. I don’t have my license yet.”
Sky wags a long red manicured finger at me. “That’s right, I forgot about your little driving snafu. Dumb move going with a Joe Shmo school. What were you thinking, K?”
GRR . . . Sky’s sudden mood swing reminds me why we’re nowhere close to being friends. If I’m going to do something as crazy as side with her on this FA thing, then there’ve got to be some rules.
“Let’s forget about my driving record and focus on the nightmare at hand, shall we?” I say coolly. “Until we figure out what to do about FA, can we at least pretend we’re costars who get along? There’s no bad blood between us, no tabloid feuds, no past mistakes, and no rude comments . Deal or no deal?”
“You’re so cheesy.” Sky rolls her eyes.
I start to walk away.
“FINE!” Sky blurts out. I turn and see she’s got her hands folded in prayer like she’s a sweet little girl making her first communion. “I’ll play nice, but first we have to figure out how we’re getting off this lot.”
“KATES! KATES!” Rodney barrels toward us, moving like a freight train. His round face is contorted in panic and sweat is dripping down his bald head. He throws me over his shoulder and begins to sprint away like he’s carrying a football. “What are you doing with her? Did she hurt you?” Rodney growls as he runs.
“Rod, put me down! Sky didn’t do anything.” He places me back on the pavement and looks at me with confusion. “Sky and I, um, walked off set together in a show of solidarity,” I explain, knowing the idea of me working with Sky is as crazy as Darth Vader helping Luke Skywalker. Oh wait. He sort of did that in Return of the Jedi.
“I heard you left, but I didn’t know it was with her.” Rodney stares at Sky.
Sky doesn’t seem fazed. She’s whipped out a nail file and is buffing away. “Take it easy, big guy. Your precious paycheck is safe for now. I’m just here for a ride.”
Rodney looks at me. “Let me handle her. Please?” I beg. “I need you to drive us off the lot.”
“Us?” Rodney asks. “I have to take both of you? Kates, what’s going on?”
“Just trust me, Rod,” I tell him. “Can you get the car and meet us back here asap? We’ve got to move before someone realizes we left the building.”
“Then you two better walk with me to the car,” Rodney suggests. “The set is in an uproar. Melli and Spencer told Phil he can call the network about them too. They’re not filming anything till they talk to Tom. Phil is having a meltdown over having nothing to shoot and is frantically trying to reach Tom himself. And Alexis is telling anyone who will listen that she thinks both of you should be immediately dismissed from the show.”
“Wench,” Sky mutters under her breath.
“They’re sending out a search party to look for you guys,” Rodney adds.
“You’re right, we can’t wait here for you,” I agree as my cell phone starts to ring. Shoot, Nadine must already know. “We better run.” The last thing I want is for Phil to see me and try to fire me on the spot.
&
nbsp; “Come on, princess,” Rodney says to Sky, who looks horrified at the idea of not having a curbside pickup. “You’re going to have to hoof it in heels.”
It takes us fifteen minutes to get to the Lincoln. It should have taken eight, but Sky whined the whole way there about her uncomfortable Miu Miu stilettos. Our cells drowned out most of her complaining though. If it wasn’t Rodney’s Rocky ring tone or Sky’s phone blaring a new Justin Timberlake song, then it was my Motorola playing the commander-in-chief theme (Laney) or Nadine’s personalized voice recording of the word “URGENT!”
“The only call I’m taking is from Tom,” I say stubbornly as we climb into the backseat of the Lincoln and I hurl my cell phone across the seat. It’s too late to call Nadine back now. She’s already heard what happened and if I call her she will lawyer me into returning to the set.
Sky slides in next to me and looks around. I forgot she’s never been inside my car before. “Is this a 2005 model? My driver has an ’08.”
“Did we decide where we’re going?” I ask as Sky peeks in the backseat pockets. My phone beeps again and against my better judgment I fish for it. It’s another voice mail. That brings the total to six.
“Don’t check it,” warns Sky, reading my thoughts. “The only thing you’re going to hear is bad news.”
But I can’t help myself. I dial in my secret code, 1026 (Austin’s birthday), and I hear Nadine’s voice. “KAITLIN, YOU’VE GOT TO CALL ME BACK. PHIL IS FLIPPING OUT AND I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO ABOUT . . .”
I skip to the next message. It’s Laney. “KAITLIN BURKE, YOU PICK UP THE PHONE THIS INSTANT OR I’LL . . . YOU SIGNAL BUDDY! I’M ON A CALL! KAITLIN? DO YOU HEAR ME? I’M WARNING . . .”
Skip. “KAITLIN, THIS IS NOT A JOKE.” It’s Nadine again. “THEY’RE GOING TO FIRE YOU TWO FOR REAL. IS THAT CLEAR ENOUGH FOR YOU? I’VE LEFT AN URGENT MESSAGE FOR TOM ABOUT THE SCRIPT. IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE, KAITLIN. SOMETHING STRANGE IS GOING ON, I KNOW IT, BUT YOU CAN’T JUST LEAVE THE SET IN THE MIDDLE OF A WORKDAY! AFTER ALL THAT’S HAPPENED, DO YOU THINK THEY’RE GOING TO TOLERATE THAT? DON’T LET ALEXIS GET THE BETTER OF YOU. COME OUT OF HIDING AND WAIT TO HEAR WHAT TOM HAS TO SAY ABOUT . . .”