Fade To Black

by Nolon King

“Fair enough,” he nodded. “In that case, how about satisfied for now?”

  Melinda couldn’t have smiled any wider. “Yes, for now I am deeply content. You?”

  “Couldn’t be happier.” Dominic looked around their sprawling back lawn again, appearing even more self-satisfied than she probably did. “It’s almost as if we planned this all from the start.”

  Maybe not all of it, but they did plan much if not most of what had happened, in one way or another, and the celebration was certainly earned.

  Fade to Black was one hell of a documentary. Possibly Shellter Production’s finest work so far, and the start of a new era for the studio. The picture of Liam Wentz being led out of that shithole skid row tenement while someone took a massive crap in the background was the most memed image in years, and the parody song “Good King Wentz A Loss” was climbing toward a billion views.

  The Shellys had fueled the frenzy and fed the media with all the chum they could manage. Then they pulled a Beyonce, dropping the doc without any warning or fanfare. There were rumors it was on its way, and that it would be out of this world when it finally premiered, but few saw the shockwaves coming. Dominic and Melinda had always intended to make West Hollywood Sunset a launch title for Juke. Initially, they had assumed the same would hold true for Black. But Juke wasn’t coming out for another year and the doc could not have been hotter.

  Dollar for dollar, Fade to Black was the cheapest publicity the Shellys had ever bought. The film was free to stream on every platform. They would yank those rights back once their new platform was ready, but until then they wanted the documentary on everyone’s lips. Unless an exposé on real life aliens dropped some time in between now and the Oscar noms, Sloane Alexander would be taking home her first Academy Award.

  Fade to Black centered on allegations of child rape levied against founder of Wentz Studios, Liam Wentz, featuring interviews with twenty-three women and girls, accusing the predator of everything from inappropriate touching to forced oral sex and anal rape.

  Wentz had been caught red-handed with Jolie and his thug. The trial was coming up, and word was Wentz would be singing on Sprog, the pedophile ring the Shellys were currently throwing a substantial amount of internal resources to rooting out, thanks in part to some hard candy from Nat.

  The Rotten Tomatoes score for Fade to Black was at 98%, with only two asshole critics either approving of child rape or living their unfortunate lives without any clue. The audience score was two drops lower at 96%, but Melinda figured that was because some moviegoers were either too dumb or easily bored.

  A brutally self-aware film.

  Fade to Black is the first masterpiece this year.

  Heartbreaking and infuriating in equal measure.

  Necessary like no other documentary I’ve ever seen.

  This film moves us past the media cycles of accusation and denial to bring us fireside with some brave victims of unimaginable trauma.

  It’s not like she needed the critics’ approval, but—

  “What are you happiest about?” Dominic asked, pulling Melinda from her thoughts.

  “I’m happiest for Sloane. Not just for all of this.” Melinda waved her hand around the room. “But because her gift is now evident to everyone, and the worst of this nightmare’s behind her. How about you?”

  “Same.” Dominic nodded. “Orson, too. Just look at them.”

  Marquee star and wunderkind director, pressed together like they always were.

  “My favorite part is that we had nothing to do with it,” Melinda said.

  Dominic nodded again. “It is nice to not do all the work for once.”

  The Shellys held hands, observing the couple in silence. They were standing too far away to hear what they saying over by the pool. But Orson had clearly started a story that Sloane was now finishing. There was something beautiful about that.

  “Hanks and Wilson or Baldwin and Basinger?” Dominic asked.

  “Hanks and Wilson,” Melinda smiled, “No doubt in my mind.”

  “Because he just became the highest paid star on the planet and she doesn’t even swear?” He chuckled.

  “Good analogy, but no. I meant their relationship. They’ll go the distance.”

  He scanned the lawn again. “We’ve done a lot of great work.”

  “We sure have.”

  Miles was there with his plus one, a stunning Nicole Everett, who had a slew of offers coming in and was actively refusing every one. Nicole had no desire to be anywhere near Hollywood, but was perfectly fine leveraging her smile and relative fame into a lucrative real estate career in Cielo Del Mar.

  The Shellys might have little if anything to do with Miles and Nicole, but they had everything to do with Selena Nash, standing over by the bar laughing with her husband, Adam. She was retiring from her juggernaut of a series to become a producer for another six shows, all in development for Juke.

  And the Shellys had everything to do with Amanda Byrd, there with her husband, Mike. Bake it Away was a whopper of a brand, and she too had several shows on the way, including Vegan Cooking for Carnivores and Get Baked, which adapted Bake it Away recipes with cannabis.

  They also had everything to do with John and Vicky. The Shellys found the couple shortly after the Treadwells’ marriage had crashed on the rocks. Still divorced, the partner writers were now two of the biggest names in publishing and had a dozen adaptations on the way for Juke, a new one every month for the streaming platform’s first year. There would for sure be more after that, but nothing would be green lit for the second year until the Shellys could look at the data. The Treadwells were happy to write anything, “so long as it moves.”

  And finally, they had everything to do with Natalie, there with her steady yet unofficial boyfriend, Bennett Cole. Considering everything that needed to happen for Juke’s second phase — the one that would change the world — Nat might be more important to their empire than anyone else.

  Soon she would know. Right now, she had no idea.

  “Are we being too standoffish?” Dominic asked.

  This was their party, and yet they hadn’t really spoken to anyone.

  “Not at all,” Melinda said. “We’re here for anyone who wants an audience, but sometimes it’s nice to stand in the back and survey all we’ve accomplished. In some ways, tonight feels like the culmination of everything we’ve done so far.”

  He squeezed her hand. “And a peek at all we’re still going to do.”

  That was true. It wasn’t just John and Vicky, Selena and Adam, Orson Beck, Natalie Monroe, or Amanda Byrd — it was seeing so many of the fruits of their labor all in one place. And, of course, Sloane Alexander. It made sense that she would be both their first and their newest. There was only so much they could do to help her all those years ago, when they first stood up to Wentz and he declared war on their futures.

  It was a lava cake of revenge. Not only was their part of the story a blockbuster, with Wentz waiting for a trial he would never be able to buy his way out of, his downfall hadn’t been entirely personal. The Shellys had been moving things around for a while, maneuvering every possible piece in place so they would be ready to sign on the dotted line when Wentz Studios suddenly became available for slightly less than a song. They were even making the kids show Replay, now with access to Shellter productions as well.

  They cleaned house, fired anyone questionable while keeping any possible gems and putting the entire staff on probation. The end result was a goldmine of a back catalog the Shellys would know exactly how to leverage, starting with a massive boost to Juke’s launch library, and a content machine they could immediately use to keep their production line producing some of the best television and film in the world. And they got their hands on Replay, the hour-long kids’ remakes that prick had been developing, so they knew the next generation in the industry would be safe from predators of Wentz’s ilk. At least, the actors who signed with them.

  And it was still just the beginning.


  After a little housecleaning of their own, Melinda felt more than satisfied. With Wentz out of the way and Shellter now the biggest name in town, it was easy enough to find out who on their staff had once been on the enemy’s payroll or even taken a too-good-to-pass-up payoff. Their house was now in order, too. All was finally right with the world.

  “Do you think we can do it?” Dominic asked, referring to the next phase of what might be the planet’s most ambitious strategy. “Can we pull off the impossible, right in front of everyone?”

  “It’s only impossible until it’s all done,” Melinda said, still looking out on a swelling crowd of their accomplishments.

  “Well then,” Dominic met her eyes. “Let’s get started.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Sloane

  Everything was perfect.

  Or at least as it could be for now.

  “So,” Orson smiled at Sloane from across the table. “Was I right?”

  “No doubt about it,” she beamed, “this is definitely the best restaurant in the world.”

  “That I’ve been to,” Orson corrected. “There’s a place in the Maldives that’s underwater. That might be better.”

  “Maybe the atmosphere, but not the food.” Sloane looked down at their empty plates with a shake of her head. “No way.”

  Bella by the Sea was unlike any other restaurant Sloane had ever seen, or even heard about. The place was small, but not tiny. Still, it only hosted a small handful of diners each night. The bistro was owned and run by a father and son team from Italy. Five-star food that thanks to the ambiance and attention managed to deliver an experience that felt more like ten. The restaurant was located in the Palms Couture shopping center in Cielo Del Mar. Orson managed to snag a reservation for the two of them a week ago, despite the months long waiting list.

  This was Sloane’s favorite kind of date — dinner and a movie.

  And not just any movie. They had gone to see Fade to Black with a crowd, slipping in after the theater was full and taking seats in back because she was determined to see it anonymously in front of a paying audience at least once.

  Sloane wondered if she would be as addicted to reading all the reviews if they weren’t so overwhelmingly positive. Most agreed that a viewer had to be dead inside if they didn’t shed a tear or several while watching the film. She was eager to see if that was true. But instead of sitting in the back row counting how many members of the audience were shedding tears, Orson spent a hundred and sixteen minutes holding her while she quietly sobbed with relief, validation, and victory.

  The Shellys were proud of her, Orson was proud of her — hell, the world at large seemed proud of her. But mostly, Sloane was proud of herself.

  The poison was finally out of her.

  She was no longer living a rented life. She and Jolie had picked out a house and a car together. Sloane paid cash for the car and could have done the same for their new home if she’d wanted to.

  Now there would be nothing standing in her way.

  And if there was, then she would stand firm with rooted feet and fight off whatever attempted to stop her. Fade to Black had given her everything she needed, despite the project ultimately depriving Sloane of what she initially thought that she wanted.

  Ever since leaving what was clearly the wrong side of the camera for her, she had longed to make movies in a different way. Sloane had imagined herself becoming a full-time director and pictured all the cinematic boundaries her career would eventually push, especially once she employed the Shellys to help her. She saw herself making the kinds of movies that got eager audiences wanting to hug their tubs of popcorn, delighted by the pure joy of cinema.

  But Fade to Black had taught Sloane Alexander exactly what kind of filmmaker she actually was — a proud documentarian. No longer the broccoli of movies in her mind, she now saw the medium for what it was — an unparalleled opportunity for her to tell evocative, emotional storytelling that might not change the world on its own but could at least inspire the change makers to rattle and hum.

  She’d hit it out of the park with her first swing, thanks in large part to her personal history with the material. Sloane was now looking forward to all the future projects that would have nothing whatsoever to do with her past.

  Black had been nominated for a slew of smaller awards already and was still playing in a few theaters in cities like Cielo Del Mar, despite it having been available to stream for free on day one. Even the few critics who didn’t care for the doc or didn’t think it deserved the Oscar had zero doubt that a nomination was coming.

  Sloane wanted to win but didn’t care if the award went to someone else. The real victories belonged to her already. Liam Wentz was serving several life sentences — way too much time for him to ever get out on parole for good behavior. She would never have to see the monster again.

  More and more girls kept coming forward with stories, not just about Liam Wentz, but about a few other notable men in Hollywood. Ellis was aggressively peeling the edges back on the Sprog story, and Sloane could still hear his chilling words in her head.

  If this goes where I’m thinking, the story won’t just be big. It might be the biggest story ever.

  She didn’t want to know the details.

  But of course she would, and of course she would throw herself behind the camera and deliver the truth if that’s what was required of her. Sloane didn’t have much choice about her next project, seeing as she promised the Shellys that she’d deal with the flood of fresh accusations and follow this Sprog thing wherever it went. Fade to Black would be turned into a true crime docuseries with at least one season scheduled for Juke, and probably more, even if Sloane only shot the first one.

  After this last round of adventures with the Shellys, Sloane now had zero doubts about Juke’s eventual success, not that she had much before. There was something much bigger than what they had told her so far. Maybe that was due to the usual plausible deniability, and maybe it was something else. Sloane would be ready for whatever, whenever she needed to be.

  “Are you in a food coma?” Orson asked, after she hadn’t spoken for what had to be at least a minute. “You’re not fading away on me, are you?”

  Sloane Alexander had spent the last twenty years of her life terrified of losing herself to the darkness, but now she was no longer scared.

  Because she had faded to black, and that was a blessing.

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  About the Author

  Nolon King writes fast-paced psychological thrillers set in the glitzy world of entertainment’s power players with a bold, insightful voice. He’s not afraid to explore the darker side of human nature through stories featuring families torn apart by secrets and lies.

  Nolon loves to write about big questions and moral quandaries. How far woul
d you go to cover up an honest mistake? Would you destroy your career to protect your family? How much of your soul would you sell to get the life of your dreams? Would you cheat on your husband to keep your children safe? Would you give in to a stalker's demands to save your marriage?