by Antony John
Instinctively I chase him.
He opens the emergency exit, which triggers an alarm. I remember Brian warning me to stay out of trouble, but I don’t plan to stick around and explain to security that it wasn’t me. I follow the guy into an alleyway. He’s twenty yards ahead, his footsteps echoing against the sheer brick walls to either side. At the end, he turns left onto a street and I lose sight of him.
By the time I get there he’s gone.
I place my hands on my knees and catch my breath. From the right, someone shouts my name. A camera flash blinds me. Like insects drawn to bright light, other photographers close in.
I’m about to run again when a car pulls out from a nearby parking spot. I probably wouldn’t notice at all, except that the car lights aren’t on.
I walk toward the vehicle. Maybe I’m crazy, but everything feels connected in this moment: Sabrina’s behavior, the news about Kris, the mysterious texts, and the curly-haired guy who’s been filming us. Just before I get there, the car pulls into traffic, tires squealing.
It’s the forest-green Mazda.
“Seth!” A woman’s voice this time, but I don’t turn around. I’m too busy staring at the car’s taillights.
Maggie stands beside me. “What are you doing out here? Did you open the emergency exit door?”
“No. It was someone else.”
She shepherds me back to the entrance as photographers swarm around us. The bouncers wave us through.
“What’s going on?” Maggie asks.
“Is it true about Kris?”
She sighs. “It’s complicated.”
“No kidding.”
I just want to check that Annaleigh’s okay and get the hell out. But Annaleigh’s not at the bar with Kris. Sabrina is.
She’s holding court, surrounded by celebrities. Kris stays close, his hand on her arm. It’s like watching a replay of our first meeting: Sabrina, flirty and ravishing; Kris, overbearing and possessive. Only this time she doesn’t look like she needs rescuing. Actually, they seem perfect together—relaxed and beautiful and back in the spotlight, as Tamara observes them from across the bar.
Earlier I felt uncomfortable, but this is worse—like walking into high school on the first day of freshman year, the new kid from Ohio intruding on cliques formed months or years ago. There’s no room for me here.
I’m about to leave, when Kris’s voice carries clear across the room. “Seth. Wait up!”
I turn away, but he jogs up behind me.
“Hey,” he says, grabbing my arm. “Where are you going?” His fingers dig into the flesh as I wrench my arm away.
“To find Annaleigh,” I say.
“She already left. Looked pissed too. What did you do to her?”
“Nothing. You know damn well why she left.”
He smiles. “I think you’re imagining things. Hollywood’s a stressful place, I get it.”
“You think you’re untouchable.”
“And I think you and your babysitter ought to get on home. It’s got to be past curfew.”
“She’s not my babysitter.”
“Well, I sure as shit hope she’s not your date.” He flicks his eyes toward her. “Nice dress, by the way. Takes guts to wear something like that.”
Maggie peers down at her dress, shapeless and bright, a blinding contrast to the tailored darkness of the other women’s attire. Even in the low light it’s obvious that she’s blushing.
I want to hit Kris so bad. I want to hurt him. But as I step forward Sabrina hustles over and wedges herself between us. She shoves a hand into our chests, looking at each of us in turn. Then, with an angry grunt, she continues toward the exit. Everyone falls silent as she leaves.
“Please, Seth,” says Maggie. She seems close to tears. “Let’s just go.”
Kris’s friends at the bar regard me with superior expressions. They know I can’t win. Kris has the press on his side, as well as legions of fans and a personal entourage.
What do I have?
I lock arms with Maggie and escort her from the building. Only one photographer is there to capture us, his apologetic flash like the last dying ember of a fire. All the rest are pursuing Sabrina.
Who can blame them?
14
MAGGIE’S CAR IS PARKED A COUPLE blocks away. I arrived in a limo, but I’ll be leaving in a beat-up Chevy. If this is a metaphor for the evening, it’s not very subtle.
There’s a child’s car seat in the back. “Do you have a kid?” I ask.
She turns the keys and the car coughs to life. “Yeah.”
We pull onto a busy street I don’t recognize. Outside my window the L.A. lights blur together. There’s an almost liquid quality to everything.
“Are they going to get rid of me, Maggie?”
Her face creases like she’s hurt. “No.”
“I figured Ryder would be pissed at Sabrina and Kris for dropping out. Now he’s doing anything to get them back in the movie.”
“I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t seem fair.”
“I’m sorry too,” I say. “The way they treated you tonight . . .”
She takes a deep breath. “I knew it’d suck.”
“So why were you there?”
“Are you serious? After what happened between you and Kris the other night? Brian wanted someone to keep an eye on you, and he and Ryder and Tracie were all busy. Hell, I couldn’t even keep you out of trouble.” She slams her palm against the steering wheel. “I told Brian I didn’t want to go. He said it’d be fun, but that’s what people always say when they don’t know how bad things can get. There’s a reason some of us want a life behind the camera. I don’t belong at swanky Hollywood parties, especially not when I’m wearing the lamest dress in L.A.”
“Kris was out of line.”
“It wasn’t just Kris. Even the bouncer wouldn’t let me in until I put Ryder on the phone. When I got inside, no one spoke to me. Literally, people turned away.”
I lean back in the seat. “I hated it too.”
“Is that why you ran out?”
“No. I was chasing this guy who’s been following Sabrina and me.”
Maggie leans hard on the gas pedal, and the car jolts. “Someone’s been following you?”
“Yeah. He tailed us yesterday. And then he was at the party tonight. I recognized his car.”
She huffs. “This is so wrong.”
“What is?”
“Everything. My whole life, I’ve been obsessed with movies. They’re the ultimate escape from reality. But now I’m in the middle of the drama, watching assholes like Kris Ellis take over. Him and Sabrina Layton—some freaking team.”
“They’re not even supposed to be a team anymore,” I say angrily. “He’s seeing Tamara Pelham.”
“What?” She puffs out her cheeks. “Tamara’s engaged. An investment banker in New York, I think. Son of some European aristocratic family.”
“She looks kind of young to be engaged.”
“Nineteen. Same as Kris.”
“I can’t imagine . . .” Getting engaged at nineteen, I’m about to say. But maybe that’s how this new world works: the impulse to forge bonds, followed immediately by the need to break them. No wonder everyone looks past me to the soap opera world of the Sabrina Laytons and the Kris Ellises. They’re so much more compelling.
The valet at the Beverly Wilshire raises an eyebrow as Maggie pulls up. Not many rusty Chevys idling outside the hotel, I guess.
“Thanks for the ride,” I say.
“You’re welcome.” Maggie flicks the keys dangling from the ignition. “You know, before Annaleigh left, she told me about you and Sabrina.”
“Which Sabrina’s that?”
She thinks I’m playing it cool, but I’m not. I don’t have a clue who Sabrina is anymore, let alone
what she’s up to.
“Watch out for yourself, Seth.”
As the old Chevy pulls away, filling the air with exhaust fumes, Maggie’s words play over in my mind. I need to do more than watch out. I need to keep my distance. Sabrina is a star—get too close and I’ll surely be burned.
15
THE REHEARSAL IS SCHEDULED FOR TEN a.m. At nine thirty, Ryder sends a text canceling it.
I go to the office anyway. I want to check that Maggie’s okay. I also want to tell Ryder and Brian what Kris said to her last night.
Yes, I’m tattling. No, I don’t feel bad about it.
Ryder answers the door. “You got my text?” he asks. I nod. “Yeah. Sorry for the late notice, but our cast is in flux.”
My first thought is that Annaleigh has quit, but surely she wouldn’t. And there’s no way Ryder would kick her off the movie the day after the junket. Which leaves Sabrina. She was angry last night. Is she ditching the project again?
“I’m sorry,” I say. “Are you going to replace her?”
“Her?”
“Sabrina.”
“This is about Kris, not Sabrina. Seems he’s been seeing Tamara Pelham, and the press got wind of it.”
Across the room, Brian spins his chair around to face me. “She’s engaged,” he snaps. “Some rich guy who wants to make life real uncomfortable for Kris. So he’s pulled out of the movie. Again!”
I feel like I did at the party, two steps behind. Did Sabrina leak this news to get back at Kris? No, she said it herself: Revenge is a dangerous game to play when you’ve got something to lose.
The main door opens and Maggie steps in. When she sees me, she freezes, like I’m the last person she wants to meet.
“Can we, uh, talk?” I ask her.
She looks at Brian before answering. “Sure.”
“Something the matter, Seth?” he asks.
“No, it’s all good.”
I head to the rehearsal room so Maggie and I can speak in private. Before I close the door, Ryder and Brian join us. Maggie doesn’t sit down.
“What’s going on?” demands Brian, all business.
How to explain? “Last night,” I begin, “Sabrina told me about Kris and Tamara.”
“Uh-huh. You and everyone else, probably. What’s that got to do with Maggie?”
“Seth passed it along to me,” she says.
“It’s juicy gossip, all right,” says Ryder with a weary smile. “But now we should get back to the more pressing task of damage control.”
Maggie doesn’t move.
“Tell Seth you had nothing to do with that story getting out, Maggie,” says Brian.
She shakes her head. “I’m not going to lie to him.”
Ryder and Brian stare at each other. They’re still on the same team, but Maggie’s on the opposite side of the table now.
“You’d better not be saying what I think you’re saying,” Brian mutters.
“Seth deserves to know the truth.”
“You’d really sell us out?” says Ryder.
She looks from one man to the other and shrugs.
Brian grits his teeth, jawbones visible beneath clean-shaven skin. “Enough of this crap. You’re fired.”
Maggie heads for the door while I struggle to keep pace with what’s unfolding. She’s basically admitting that she leaked the story. She has lost her job, and maybe even jeopardized her place at film school. And for what?
“Why did you do it, Maggie?” I ask.
She stops in the doorway. She’s breathing fast. “You’ve seen how it works. Kris and Sabrina can say and do whatever the hell they want, and no one calls them on it. You’re never going to shine as long as they’re the ones in the spotlight. But now Kris is gone.”
“You stupid woman,” snarls Brian, fist pressed tight against his forehead. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh really? Then why was I at the party in the first place, huh? Because you two were busy selling your souls to get Kris freakin’ Ellis to sign on, that’s why.” She turns to me, her expression different, pleading. “Do you really believe Kris was in this thing to play second string to you? You stood up for me, Seth. Now I’m standing up for you. Doesn’t matter how much Kris wants to bring you down, he’s done. And I’m glad I was the one who made it happen.”
“What about Tamara?” I ask.
“What about her? Tamara lost the moral high ground when she cheated on her fiancé.”
“And Sabrina?” adds Ryder. “What if we’ve lost her too?”
Maggie grips the door handle. “Then good riddance. She’s no different from Kris. We all know why Annaleigh left the party early last night.”
Brian glares at her. “Get the hell out!”
“Why shouldn’t Seth know what she said about him?” she fires back.
“What who said about me?” I ask.
“Why, your dear friend Sabrina, of course. Said the first read-through wasn’t a rehearsal, it was a humiliation. Called you a fucking mess. Said that if that’s all you’ve got, the whole movie is screwed. Those are pretty much direct quotes, by the way. Just ask Annaleigh.”
Maggie slams the door behind her and I’m alone with the two men who control my future. Do they feel the same way as Sabrina? Is that why they wanted Kris on board?
Maybe Sabrina’s right—I was a mess at that first rehearsal. Still, I can’t believe she said those things. Who does that to a fellow actor?
“Is it true, what Maggie just said?” I ask Ryder.
He looks at everything except me. “It’s what Annaleigh told us.”
“Look, I’m sorry,” I say. “I was distracted during the read-through. I’d just seen the picture of me and Kris in the newspaper and—”
The door flies open and Tracie blusters in. “Did you just fire Maggie?”
“Yeah,” says Brian. “And don’t tell me I can’t legally do that.”
“You can’t legally—”
“Bullshit! She leaked confidential information. Seth told her about Kris and Tamara, and she sold the story.”
“I know what she did, Brian. I was listening at the door.”
“I thought you made her sign a nondisclosure.”
“I did, but it only covers the movie. Kris never signed a contract, so technically he’s nothing to do with the movie. Neither’s Tamara. And Maggie knows it.”
Silence. A few words from Tracie and Brian’s pent-up anger counts for nothing.
“We should sue her anyway,” says Ryder.
Tracie purses her lips. “For what? Telling the truth? If we so much as threaten her, she’ll name her sources. In other words, Seth.” She turns to me. “So are you willing to go on oath and say she’s lying, or would you admit that you told her everything she passed along?”
I lower my eyes. “I’d have to admit it.”
“Uh-huh. And tell me, who gets thrown under the bus then—her, or you?” She puts her fingers under my chin and forces me to look her in the eye. It’s the first time she has seemed remotely sympathetic. “Take it from me—Maggie didn’t commit a crime. She sold information she never should’ve had. It may feel the same, but it’s not.”
Tracie perches on the edge of the table and crosses her legs. “Now, Maggie was saying Kris and Sabrina say and do whatever they like. I know what Sabrina said about you last night. What did Kris say?”
“He made a snide remark about Maggie’s dress.”
“Hmm. What a class act.” She looks at Brian and Ryder. “And you wanted him back in the movie.”
“Kris is guaranteed box office,” says Brian. “A few minutes of screen time and he might’ve doubled our receipts.”
“So this is all about money now?”
“That’s pretty hypocritical, coming from someone who bills by the hou
r.” Brian circles the table, fists twitching at his sides. “If I ever see that woman again . . .”
Tracie turns in a slow arc. “Leave the room, Brian.”
“What? I’m not going any—”
“Get out! I’m not asking.”
I figure there’s no way he’ll go, but he does. I’m glad too. Brian looks like he wants to make someone pay, and with Maggie gone, I’m the guiltiest person here.
Tracie doesn’t continue until Brian is gone and the door is closed again. “Now then, Seth. Who told you about Kris and Tamara in the first place?”
“Sabrina. I never thought Maggie would tell anyone.”
“It’s not your fault.” She presses her fingers together in a steeple and taps her lips. “Look, if you hear any other gossip or rumors, you come straight to us, okay? Not your father or brother. Not your friends. Us. I can only spin this stuff so much. Eventually someone’s going to notice that the trail of breadcrumbs leads here.”
“What about Sabrina? Kris is going to know the story came from her.”
“Not necessarily. Anyway, this doesn’t get any better for her if we drag it out. The best thing is to put it behind us. Give it one news cycle and the media will be on to another story.”
Tracie wraps a tendril of hair around her ear like she’s putting everything in order again. But the look on her face assures me that things aren’t in order. There are still loose ends, things she’ll have to deal with.
Ryder hasn’t said much. He just stares at some sheets of paper on the table—his revised script, I guess. The top sheet is covered in red pencil markings. Do those markings return Kris and Sabrina to their starring roles? I’ll probably never know, but it’s possible that Maggie just saved Annaleigh and me from drifting into irrelevance.
“I’m sorry, Ryder,” I say.
He looks up. “Tracie’s right—it will blow over. We just need time to get things back on track.”
“Can I go home?” I ask. “For Christmas Day.”
“No,” he says firmly. “We’ve got to get the focus back on you and Annaleigh, and you need to get used to each other.”
“I know you probably feel guilty, letting Kris and Tamara’s affair get out,” adds Tracie, “but Kris is gone now. You’re our star. Understand?”