Secrets of My Hollywood Life: There’s No Place Like Home

by Jen Calonita

  I miss my very complicated, very overbooked Hollywood life.

  If my ankle wasn’t broken, I would kick myself for being such a fool and wishing it away. I want it back. All of it, warts and all, just for the chance to slip on a costume again and emote about a problem that isn’t my own.

  I take a deep breath and move out of a P.A.’s way as he runs by me with a box full of strange electrical items. I have two choices at this moment: I could burst into tears and cry about the cruel twist of fate that is my new life, or I could do the job I came here to do.

  After all, I am still on a soundstage. The FA soundstage. Yes, I want to go home, but if I have to be anywhere other than home, this is a great place to be. In my world, the FA set is no more, but here it is up and running and everyone is still here looking happy and…

  Well, actually, come to think of it, no one I’ve passed actually looks happy. If I study the harried faces of P.A.s, lighting folks, union workers, and assistants running past me, no one looks even remotely cheery. They look stressed and sort of freaked out and… is someone yelling? It’s coming from the hair and makeup room. I freeze outside the door when I see who is causing the commotion.

  “GOD, PAUL! You call this a half pony? This is not a half pony! I could do a half pony better in my sleep!”

  My old FA hairdresser, Paul, is the one taking the tongue lashing. He’s still impeccably dressed and has great dark, curly hair, but his tall frame is slumped forward and his face is blank while she tears into him.

  “I told you what I would do if this happened one more time, just one more time, didn’t I?”

  It’s Alexis, just as I remember her, and she’s pointing a finger at his chest. Her long, fiery red hair is pulled in what looks like a decent half ponytail to me, and her green eyes narrow. She’s so tall, she towers over him in knee-high black Gucci stiletto boots. Her model-ready figure looks great in a black strapless dress.

  “I don’t care what Tom says, you can’t do hair. I’ve been saying it for a year! You need to be replaced. Max Simon runs circles around you.”

  Shelly, my old makeup artist, snorts. “Max runs circles for you, Alexis.”

  “Shel,” Paul says witheringly.

  “No, Paul. Let her fire me too!” Shelly booms. “It would be a blessing! I can’t stand coming here anymore. I won’t answer to an eighteen-year-old.” Shelly glares at Alexis. “You want Max because he’s in your posse. As far as hair goes, no one does as good a job as Paul.”

  Alexis looks like she might breathe fire. “You’re lucky I’m obsessed with the way you do my eyeliner and airbrush tanning, or you’d be out on your fat butt yourself. ”

  My jaw drops. I can’t believe Alexis called Shelly fat! Yes, she’s plump, but that’s not Alexis’s concern. Alter-Alexis is ten times more obnoxious than the real Alexis was, and I think I know why. Here, she rules, just like it said in that Hollywood Nation article I read. If Sky and I hadn’t beaten Alexis at her own game and gotten her fired from FA way back when, she could have ruined everything for all of us. If Alexis stayed as beloved as she was by the media—who didn’t have a clue how vindictive and awful she was—she could have become the tyrant she is here and now.

  I shudder so violently that I drop my right crutch. It lands with a smacking sound on the hardwood floor, and Alexis whirls around, ready to bark. Then she sees me.

  “Oooh, the Make-A-Wish Foundation girl, right?” Alexis says, gliding toward me and picking up my crutch before I can answer. “Let me get that for you, honey, and let me sign your crutch. Would you like that? I have a ton of other stuff for you in my dressing room. I can get someone to carry you down there to get it.” Alexis signs my cast before I can stop her. I’m so flabbergasted I can’t speak. She looks around. “Where’s your reporter for the story? And the photographer?” Her shoulders slump. “Do you mean we just missed this moment? Now we’re going to have to do it again!”

  Paul and Shelly burst out laughing. “That’s Kaitlin Burke, Alexis. Remember? She’s one of the studio interns.”

  Alexis rolls her eyes. “I wasted all that on you? UGH. Give me back that crutch.”

  No way. “I don’t think so. I need it to, you know, walk.”

  “Fine.” Alexis runs a hand through her thick hair. “But if you screw up like that again, you’re off the lot. I don’t need to be humiliated by a… by a… what was she again?”

  “Intern,” I finish for her, smiling sweetly.

  “Just get out of my way.” Alexis shoves me aside and click clacks down the hall. “Paul?” she yells back. “You can stay—for now.”

  “Lucky me,” Paul mumbles under his breath, then smiles at me. “Sorry about that, Kates.” He knows me! And I’m just a lowly intern. “You know how the red dragon gets.” He raises his eyebrow. “Too bad she doesn’t hate us enough to fire us.” He sighs. “But you almost had an out there. You should have gone for it.”

  I want to be fired? How bad has FA become?

  “You better get down to the set and bring this.” Shelly hands me a fancy water spritzer. “You know how Alexis gets if she doesn’t have her mineral water spritz on the sidelines. It’s your job today. I have to hang back here and do makeup for the Make-A-Wish girl. Alexis is worried she’ll look too pale and sickly without bronzer.” Shelly gives me a look. “How that girl wields so much power around here, I have no idea.”

  Speechless, I head back down the hall and head straight toward the soundstage. At this point, people are running back and forth and yelling things.

  “Alexis needs Smartwater! She only has three bottles.”

  “Alexis wants Melli on set pronto so she can switch some lines!”

  “Where is Tom? Alexis has questions about her dialogue!”

  “Did the Make-A-Wish kid get here yet? Alexis doesn’t want her screwing up her lunch hour.”

  Alexis, Alexis, Alexis! My god, where is Sky in all of this? I’ve never heard of her being so outdone.

  Maybe my fantasy of working on FA again is not such a good one, after all. Why would anyone want to work here?

  The light isn’t on above the door to the soundstage—you can’t enter if they’re in the middle of taping—but I have to wait for a grip to open the door for me and then I limp inside. My breath catches in my throat.

  There in the middle of this oversized hanger is my old TV show living room! To an outsider it would look strange to see three sheet-rocked walls of a room being held up by two-by-fours on the outside, but to me, this is my Buchanan family living room. Directly next to it is the set for the kitchen, the girls’ bedroom (which doubles as our parents’ bedroom), and the screened-in porch. Behind all the sets you can see pieces of rooms lying against walls, waiting for their turn to come to life. If you walked around the exterior walls of the set, you’d have no idea where you were. You’d see a ton of wires taped to the floors, and black-painted walls leading to nowhere, but if you turned the corner and got onto one of the sets, you’d feel like you were in a real house. The Buchanan house after the fire. The fireplace, the leather couches and ottoman, the family photo… AAH! My family photo! But of course, where I would be standing, next to Sky as Samantha, is Alexis.

  My heart sinks. Do not cry. Do not cry. This is not real. It can’t be!

  “Where is my mineral water?” Alexis barks.

  I move as quickly as I can around the wires on the floor, but it’s hard with crutches. People are so frenzied that no one notices I’m having trouble. I feel a hand on my arm.

  “Let me help you there, Kaitlin.”

  “Rodney!” I throw my arms around his large frame. “God, I’ve missed you. How are you?”

  Rodney just looks at me. “Okay, I guess, for someone who is stuck being Alexis’s bodyguard.”

  ALEXIS’S BODYGUARD?

  NOOOOO!

  “You feeling all right, Kaitlin?” he asks, adjusting the black sunglasses that are pushed back on his bald head.

  “Fine,” I say hastily. “I, uh, just m
issed you last week and wanted to say hi.”

  “Can I help you get to Alexis? You know how she is about being kept waiting.” As Rodney talks, I see his gold tooth. It’s still there. But there’s something different. His smile is missing. And he’s much quieter when he speaks.

  “Yes, that would be great.” Rodney links arms with me through one of my crutches, and slowly we make our way over to Alexis, sidestepping cables. Alexis is busy filing her nails, so she doesn’t see me.

  “Rod. Where is my pink nail polish?” she demands. “Did you get it from my dressing room?”

  “Not yet, Alexis.”

  “Well, what are you waiting for? You have to do that, get my dry cleaning, pick up those Jimmy Choos I have on hold at Fred Segal, and I need you to fill my Zantac prescription. God, you’re useless!” she tells him, and he winces. “I should get rid of you too. All of you!” She points to the people milling around the stage.

  “Don’t you have an assistant to do those things?” The words escape my lips before I can stop them. No one talks to my Rodney like that. NO ONE.

  “You again.” She snaps and blows on her nails to dry them. “Where is my mineral water, intern? I need to be spritzed, like now.”

  I want to hurl the bottle at her, but I remain calm and spritz her face.

  “Don’t move more than two feet from me at all times,” Alexis reminds me, waving her hands. “I will yell ‘SPRITZ!’ when I need you. Got it?”

  “Got it,” I mumble. I wish I could spritz her right out of here.

  “It’s three thirty, Alexis,” a P.A. says quietly.

  “SKY! SKY!” Alexis barks. “MELLI! WHERE ARE YOU? WHERE IS TOM! TOOOOMMM! GET DOWN HERE! I AM LEAVING AT FIVE THIRTY WHETHER THIS SCENE IS SHOT OR NOT!”

  I almost drop my crutches when I see Melli and Tom come running from opposite directions. Tom is still portly, with thick black glasses and a chrome dome. He looks more haggard than I’ve ever seen him, and I’ve seen him really spent, like when we shot a live episode. Melli is still beautiful, with long black hair and the smallest waist you’ve ever seen, but she has black rings under her eyes that even the best concealer can’t erase.

  “Where were you?” Alexis questions them. “Didn’t I say three fifteen?”

  “I was trying to do homework with my son in the dressing room,” Melli says stiffly. “I’d rather do it at home, but apparently I have no choice in the matter.”

  Alexis sighs. “I told you. I’m not having you killed off. My agent did the numbers, and the polls say they prefer Samantha to have a mom. Deal with it.”

  Melli looks like she is ready to reenact the scene where she tried to strangle our aunt Krystal before they both fell into a pool, fully dressed in evening gowns. Instead, Melli looks over at Tom, and he is scratching his head over and over, like he has a nervous tic. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. What has Alexis done to this place? No wonder everyone hates being here. I hate being here, and I never thought I’d see the day when I felt like that.

  “Where is Sky?” Alexis snarls, and no one answers.

  “I think she’s sleeping it off, ” someone says.

  “That girl is a train wreck.” Alexis rolls her eyes. “Wake her up and get her down here now.”

  It only takes a few minutes before someone practically carries Sky onto the soundstage. I say carry because it looks like she can barely walk on her own and… holy hot mess!

  Alexis is right: Sky is a train wreck! A complete train wreck! Her black hair is knotty, her tan skin is all sallow, and she has huge bags under her eyes. She’s thinner than ever, and not in a good way. She looks like she could be snapped in two, and her fitted red minidress with a drawstring waist is sort of hanging off of her frame.

  “Sky?” I put a hand on her. “Sky? Are you okay? What’s wrong with her?” I ask the others frantically, but Sky waves me off, mumbling the word fine over and over again.

  Alexis shrugs. “She’s been out all night again. Big whoop. Give her a Red Bull. Make it two, and she’ll be up and running. SKY!” she yells in her ear. “TIME TO WORK OR NO PREMIERE PARTY TONIGHT!”

  Sky’s eyes flutter wider. “I can’t miss the premiere. I’m here!” She looks around. “Wherever here is.” She frowns, and then it looks like a lightbulb goes on in her head. “Duh! This is work, right? What’s my line?”

  “Someone give Sky her line,” Alexis tells the others as she checks her hair in the mirror a P.A. is holding. “I need her up and running for the Mind over Matter screening tonight. It’s with Angie, Brad, and Jen, and it’s only running for two weeks so I am not missing it. We need to film so Sky and I can jet.”

  Two-week screening. Yeah right. Especially if the world’s most well-known love triangle is in it. HOLLYWOOD SECRET NUMBER THIRTEEN: Tinseltown is full of gimmicks because gimmicks bring in big money. One of their favorites: limited engagements. We’re talking TV shows that only air for eight episodes before a long hiatus, or films that hit theaters for only two weeks. What’s the point, you ask? To drive people to their TVs and to theaters so that they don’t miss out on this exclusive, once-in-a-lifetime chance to view history in the making! Of course, once a show or a movie does pull in the big bucks, the studio is likely to renege on their limited engagement deal. Look at Michael Jackson’s This Is It or Miley Cyrus’s Hannah Montana concert film. When ticket sales went through the roof—surprise, surprise—those films’ theater runs were extended. In Hollywood, money is still the most coveted prize.

  “SKY!” Alexis snaps her fingers, bangles tinkling viciously, when she sees Sky sink into the couch pillows and close her eyes. “Drink your Red Bull and let’s go.”

  “Don’t talk to her like that,” Melli scolds, her dark eyes blazing. “It’s your fault she looks like this. Dragging her out every night, insisting she go to every party on the planet to keep her job. If you had actual friends, Alexis, you wouldn’t need to make Sky go everywhere.”

  Alexis wags her finger. “Watch your tone, Melli. I’d hate for the studio to hear you yelled at me.”

  “I’m tired of this.” Melli freaks out. “One second you’re threatening to keep me on, the next you’re threatening to fire me. Look what’s become of Sky. She can’t even hold her head up!” Sky barely seems aware people are talking about her.

  Alexis shrugs. “Some of us can’t party as well as others. What can I tell you? I need her to go and stay at these things to make sure I’m well represented when I go home early and get my beauty rest. Right, Sky?”

  “Right,” Sky says, looking exhausted.

  “Let’s just shoot, shall we?” Tom’s voice is strained.

  Everyone walks onto the set and takes their positions. When Sky stands up and walks unsteadily to her mark, I think I’m going to burst into tears. Alexis is ruining everything I ever loved about being at FA! Alexis may be getting FA good ratings, but I see why the tabloids think the show is in trouble. No one wants to work with her. People look like Alexis is holding them hostage. It’s enough to make me lose my lunch.

  When I was on FA, everyone loved being there. I loved being there. And when it was over, I was sad for a long time. Probably too long. Instead of appreciating all the time I had on set, I’ve continued to long for more. I’ve compared everything I’ve ever done to FA. Doing that has kept me from moving on the way I should. Seeing what’s happened here, I realize how keeping the show alive could have ruined Family Affair. We left on a high note. I never would have wanted to work at FA if it was like the one Alexis created. I want to throw down my mineral water spritzer and start screaming at this spoiled brat. I don’t care about me anymore—I care about my FA family. Someone needs to put Alexis in her place and show her how a true Hollywood star behaves.

  “I said, let’s go!” Alexis insists, clapping her hands together loudly. “Snap snap! Taping time diminishing. HELLO, TOM? Can we start?”

  I’m stewing, but I’m not going to open my mouth. I don’t want to get thrown off the set. They need me here more than
I realized. I look at the crew. No one will look at Alexis. They’re glancing at the lights or the wires on the floor, or they’re rolling their eyes at each other. Alexis has ruined all of them. I’ve never met an actress this selfish, and I’ve come across some doozies.

  “AND ACTION!” Tom yells as he takes his seat behind a monitor and puts on his headset.

  “It’s not every day you make the honor society,” Melli (aka Paige) says to Sky (aka Sara). Melli looks so calm and relaxed, in sharp contrast to her mood only seconds earlier. She has always had great composure, even in times of stress. “How you had time to study in between all your dates, I’ll never know.”

  Sky laughs. “Some of those dates were with straight-A students, Mom. They were great study partners in more ways than one.”

  Wow, even dead tired, Sky is still good. I remember this scene well. When we shot it, it was for the girls’ sophomore year, and the whole episode revolved around a cheating scandal at school.

  “Great job, sis,” Alexis says, sounding stilted. “Who knew you had it in, um, uh, you were, um… ARGH! LINE!”

  I hear a few people groan.

  How could Alexis have forgotten her line?

  Tom reads from the script. “Alexis, it’s: ‘We knew you had it in you to prove you were more than just a cheerleader.’”

  “I knew that,” Alexis tells the crew, giving them the evil eye. “Roll again.”

  Alexis gets it that time, then gets stuck again two lines later.

  “She’s dreadful,” I hear a P.A. next to me whisper to the person standing next to her. “Why does the public like her again?”

  In between blowing lines, Alexis yells. She makes Sky feel smaller than she already is, insists Melli miss a call from her kid, and threatens firing Tom and half the crew. My nails dig into the mineral water spritzer. Alexis doesn’t appreciate the success she’s been given. A million girls would kill for her job, and here she is treating everyone like they’re the gum on the bottom of her spiked heel. Alexis shouldn’t have this role, this paycheck, or this fame. Whether this is the real world or not, someday karma will catch up with her. She won’t have the career she has forever if she doesn’t start appreciating it now.