“It’s cold, Jennifer.”
“Shit, London…I’m really sorry.”
I groan and push the cup back in her face. “How many times do we need to go through this! I don’t like my tea luke fucking warm!”
“Yes…I’m…so sorry.”
She cowers for a few moments before rushing away, on the verge of tears. Shit. She’ll be done by the end of the week. That’ll be four assistants in two months. Benny is going to kill me.
“You have to stop comparing everybody to him,” he said last week, when I went crying to about how stupid my newest assistant was turning out to be. “Nobody is going to be him, London. Do you understand? He’s not the type of person that’s easily replaced. You just have to deal with it, because finding you a new assistant has become a bigger part of my job than the one you pay me for!”
It’s been really hard, moving on.
I’m not the type of person that deals with change well and…this was such a major change. At first I thought things wouldn’t be so different. I would just go on with my life, as normal, and make my career the best it could be. That phone call we had right before he left, proved to me that he didn’t care about us anymore. It was enough to make me get up and start my day.
That was only the first day, and I was determined then. I felt I could move on and live my life without the aid of him, without his love and guidance.
Now, two months later, I know I’m fucking drowning. I’d never admit it though. I can’t, because if I do, I’ll have to admit that he was right about me. That I’m selfish and superficial and I can’t do anything on my own.
But I can’t do anything on my own. Not without him.
I’ve made some really crappy choices, and it’ll start to rain down on me now.
The movie is slated to hit theaters next week. I’ve started filming a new one, a better one, with Chet, and today is the last day I’ll have to finish up a couple of important scenes before I leave for New York for our publicity stint. Chet and I will do Fallon tomorrow, and Live with Kelly and Michael the next morning. Then we have Good Morning America the next day, Letterman, and the Today show to follow the next morning, followed by the premiere that night. There will also be dozens of other radio and magazine interviews that will be jumbled somewhere in between all that. I guess it’s good. New York publicity is always good.
It’s hit me really hard that I’ve never been to New York City without Justin before. He was always really good at keeping me out of the view of the paparazzi when I wanted to go shopping. Even Roy couldn’t figure out those routes.
This time I’ll be alone.
Well, not completely I guess. There’s always Chet. Chet who brightened at the fact that Justin was gone from my life. Chet who seemed to take on so many roles in my life after Justin was gone.
“Need some?”
He snakes his arms around my waist and presses them into my hand as he plants a kiss on my neck. Things with us are more public now than they’ve ever been. Chet and I aren’t in that contract anymore. We don’t have to be, because I’m always with him now.
“Thanks.”
I pop them in my mouth and he hands me a water to wash them down with. I really wish it were champagne of course, but here on the set, I wouldn’t look very professional doing that. I have to admit, these things are what keeps me going most days. I just need a boost, something to give me more energy, and the uppers definitely do that. Nobody has to know, just Chet, because he takes them too. Benny doesn’t even know, because if he did, I’m convinced he would stick me right back in rehab just for the publicity value.
Justin would be so disappointed.
But he’s not here, and it shouldn’t matter what he would have thought.
I hired a full time nanny for Hailey a couple of weeks after he left. Hailey seems to like her, but I barely have any time to talk to her anymore. I’m so busy with my career, between photo shoots, interviews, parties, premieres, and galas, that I don’t even know how her days go most of the time. Sophie has been a god send though. She doesn’t ask questions or berate me for not spending any time with my daughter, she just does the job, and she even lives at the house so I don’t have to worry. At times I wish I could have just hired her as my assistant instead, but Hailey needs a capable stand in since I can’t be around for her.
At least my kid is taken care of.
“There’s a party at Jason’s.” I feel him smiling against my neck as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “You wanna go up there after this is done?”
I’ve been partying a lot lately. I guess it’s not the worst thing . It’s fun, gets my mind off of…everything, and Benny is never around to nag either of us to death. I’ve found comfort in alcohol, in pills, and Cocaine. I’ve found that those things combined make me feel better than the Bulimia ever could. I haven’t gone back to that, because the coke keeps my weight right where I want it to be. It’s so easy to get. Every party Chet takes me to, there’s always plenty being passed around, and if I need some for later, all I have to do is ask and cough up a couple of hundred bucks. I always make sure I have a small supply on hand at the house, and a tiny amount hidden in my purse.
“Yeah, sounds like a good time.” I smile, but tug out of his arms and go stand by the window, gazing out at downtown Los Angeles.
“London, you’re needed on set.”
I don’t acknowledge my assistant. I can’t. My mind has started to drift, probably because of the uppers. I’ve started to think about other things again, like what my life might have been like if I’d said yes that day, if I’d packed up my kid and gone with him.
I miss him more than I let on. Lately, I miss him so much that it hurts, that it makes me unable to sleep. Even when I get into bed with Chet…it’s hard for me not to think of him, of his gentle touch, of his warm lips pressed against my skin.
I’m a mess, but I can’t confess that. I can’t, because he’s gone, hasn’t called. He’s forgotten about us.
So I have to do it too.
“London…”
“She’ll be there in a couple of minutes,” I hear Chet snap. “Get lost, would you?”
She says nothing else. The door quietly closes.
“Want me to call Benny?” There’s a pause, and a loud snort from him. Another line of Coke has gone up his nose, no doubt. “If you’re tired we can just pick up tomorrow.”
I shrug.
“What’s wrong, huh?” His hands are on my shoulders, rubbing them gently. “You’ve been quiet the past few days, Londy.”
I hate that nickname. I’d really prefer Sarah but…I can’t tell him that. Hearing my real name coming out of his mouth would seem so alien to me, because he doesn’t know Sarah. He just knows London.
That’s the only person any of them know.
“I guess I’m just tired,” I lie.
“C’mon, lets get out of here.”
“The director…”
He kisses my mouth before I can say anything else. “I’ll handle it.” He flashes me his too prefect smile and digs his Iphone out. He’s on and off within a couple of minutes, and assures me that leaving for the day isn’t a problem.
“I just told him you were having a lady day,” he laughs.
It takes a lot for me not to roll my eyes. “Thanks, Chet.”
“Hey, I want you to be happy.” He kisses me again.
I feel myself cringe, deep inside.
He does another line of coke on the vanity, before tossing the rest of the evidence into the toilet and flushing. “Let’s go.” He holds his hand out to me when he emerges from the bathroom.
He’s a loser. I think it, I know it, but yet, I still take his hand. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I think for myself, carry myself on my own and hold my head high?
I guess I’m just too weak, and I’ll always be.
We walk out of the trailer and out to the studios exit, where Roy is waiting with the limousine. It’s the only thing I’m thankful for, the confines of the leather and tinted windows. I’m in no mood for photographers this afternoon. I begin to walk briskly, paying no mind to the couple of people hanging around, hoping for an autograph. Chet, ever the crowd pleaser, can’t seem to help himself though, and I’m forced to stop and wait while he greets the fans. I turn to Roy, and he holds a hand out to me. For moments I’m thankful, until I see someone out of the corner of my eye that captures my interest.
I turn, in disbelief, staring to be sure.
It is.
Trace.
I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t go over there, shouldn’t ask about Justin. Shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t. It’s over between us. It has to be over.
I look back at Chet. He’s smiling and posing for pictures.
A fucking crowd has gathered.
“London.” Roy calls out to me.
I can’t help myself. Couldn’t stop myself from going over there if I tried. “I’ll be right back, Roy.”
“But…”
I walk off, across the lot, determined to get the answers I want. I put on my most determined, professional look, but when I reach him, my throat goes dry.
“Wow…London Pierce…”
The guy Trace is talking to has stopped the conversation short, and is staring at me, practically foaming at the mouth because I’m so close to him. It’s nothing new to me. I conjure up the politest smile I can. “Hello. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Hi.” His cheeks turn pink as he shakes my hand.
I glance at Trace, and for a moment, he meets my gaze, but he doesn’t look happy to see me at all.
“London could you sign this for me?” Trace’s friend takes the studio badge off his shirt and hands it to me, along with a black sharpie. “Make it out to Scott?”
“Sure sweetie.” I sign it quickly and hand it back to him.
“Wow this is…great.” He smiles like a little boy. “Thanks so much.”
r32;“Anything for a fan.” I look back at Trace. “How are you, Trace?”
“Fine.” He forces a smile. “Hey Scott, I’ll catch you later all right? My office next week for the meeting?”
“Oh…” Scott seems to remember himself. “Yeah, of course. I’ll be in touch.”
Trace walks away, and for whatever reason, I quickly follow behind him.
“Can you just wait a second?”
“I have nothing to say to you.” He mutters, still walking ahead of me.
“At least tell me he’s all right.”
“What do you care?” He finally stops, and turns to me. The sheer disgust on his face makes my stomach turn. “Y’all broke up, remember?”
“It doesn’t mean I don’t care.” I mutter and cross my arms.
“He’s fine,” Trace nods. “Back where he belongs, if you ask me.”
“What about his mom?”
“She hasn’t passed, if that’s what you’re trying to get at.”
I shrug a little and look down at my shoes. “I just wanted to make sure. I’d…like to go out…when it does happen.”
“I doubt he’d want you out there,” he says, darkly. “Besides, aren’t you busy enough with mister personality over there? Heard you’ve been going to some pretty crazy parties, London.”
“It’s Sarah.”
“Sarah today, London tomorrow…I’m not getting mixed up in your stupid crap. Justin is fine. He’s better off where he is. I’ll see you around.”
“Trace, c’mon.”
“Back on drugs, huh?” He calls over his shoulder.
“What…”
“C’mon.” He stops again, and smirks. “You’re pale as a ghost, girl. I’ve hung out with enough people in the industry to know when someone is on the decline.”
“It helps me stay focused. I can handle it.”
“You can’t. Nobody can. But you’ll learn the hard way, I guess.”
I can’t say anything, because he’s completely right about me. I just stare at him, the tears pushing from behind my eyes, threatening to expose themselves. “Just let him know that…I still care about him, okay?”
He sighs harshly. “What good will that do? Do you want me to tell him to come back because you can’t handle your life now that he’s gone? Do you have any idea…how much better off he is without you? Jesus, London, you ran him ragged. You never appreciated anything he did for you. He hated his life out here.”
“That’s…that’s not true. We were working on things…he loved me.”
He shakes his head. “He forced himself to love you. I guess it was the only way he knew how to keep you in check.”
“That’s not…”
“I’m not doing this. We’re acquaintances and barely even that. I have work to do. Just…wake up would you? Before you get yourself killed.”
He stalks away. I don’t follow him.
“Who’s that baby?” Chet has somehow found his way back to me, and is clutching my hand in his.
“No one…just wanted an autograph.”
“Ah, nice.” He kisses my cheek. “You ready?”
I’m still staring into the distance. Trace is just a speck now, walking further into the studio’s parking lot. His words hit me hard. They shouldn’t have. It’s my life, and I can handle my drugs.
At least Justin has moved on.
I mean, he must have. Trace wouldn’t lie about his best friend.
“Londy?”
“Yeah…sorry.”
“Great.” r32;
He pulls me along and I force myself to follow, half listening to whatever he’s talking about as we meet Roy by the limo and get in. He starts groping me immediately after we’re shut inside the car, and I let him, but my mind isn’t with him. It’s off in Nebraska, trying to connect with Justin, trying to imagine what he’s doing right now. Is he happy? Have his brothers welcomed him home? Is he enjoying the simple life…life without me?
I feel my blouse being ripped open.
“Chet stop!” I push his hand away.
“C’mon…” He breaths heavily against my chest, as he continues to kiss the tops of my breasts. “We’ll get you another shirt.”
“I mean it!” I shove him back and do my best to button my blouse back up.
“Why the fuck are you being a tease right now? We’ve been fucking all week.”
“I’m just not in the mood, all right?” I take a deep breath and flick the little TV on that hangs above us. “I’m tired.”
“Tired huh?” He leans back against the seat as I flick through the channels.
“Right.”
The next thing I know, I’ve been slammed up against the opposite door, and Chet has his hands close to my neck, pinning me so I can’t move at all. “Wha…what are you doing?” I whimper.
“I’m not going to take this shit from you, London.”
He slaps me, and I scream. He shoves his hand over my mouth, but I bite it.
“Stupid bitch!” He punches me this time.
My face throbs, and I sob hysterically. Then I hear him doing another line of coke, and I realize he doesn’t have a grip on me anymore.
“ROY!” I scream for him, but then I realize…he went back to the house. Hailey…shit, the nanny had to take a half day.
“Nobody’s gonna hear you baby.” Chet slithers back over to me, and pins me against the door with one hand, flashing me his slimy fucking smile.
“Please,” I whimper, as he rips my shirt open again with his free hand. “Chet please.”
“Pity. Right before New York.” He observes the bruise that I know has formed near my right eye, where he punched me. “You’re too pretty for black and blue. Don’t make me do it again, all right?”
“Get your hands off of me!” I struggle against his grip.
He just laughs, and rips the rest of my clothes off, right there in the car. He shoves me down onto the floor, and climbs on top of me before I can try and get away.
r32;“No!” I scream as he slips my panties off. “Chet! Please!”
He slaps me again. “Shut up!” He places his hand around my throat. “Don’t move.”
I sob loudly while he pauses to do another line of coke against the leather seat.
The car stops. Stop light.
Now! My brain screams at me. Now!
I kick him as hard as I possibly can, and he doubles over, crying out in pain. I’m sure I know exactly where I’ve kicked him, but I don’t wait for the inevitable. I scramble to the door, knowing I’m naked. I have no choice. I burst out of the car, and scream for someone to help me.
This can’t be good.
“Stupid bitch!” Chet crawls out of the car and races around to where I’m standing, as I hold my breasts protectively against my chest. “Don’t you know that I love you!”
Then the driver gets out, I can hear him frantically yelling into his cell phone.
“Get off!” I scream as Chet reaches me again, and starts to pull me back to the limo.
“The paps are going to have a field day!” He yells at me. “Come on!”
I push him away, as the sirens wail in the distance. I can see the pile up of cars on the other side of the road. People are taking pictures, laughing and pointing at the two would be celebs on the other side of the highway. My career is going to be ruined after this. Or maybe I’ll just go on Ellen and talk about drug abuse. Yeah.
Fuck.
I manage to make it back to the limo and lock Chet out. The driver won’t let him back in. He’s banging on the windows, telling me that he’ll kill me if I don’t open the door. It’s the coke talking. Last week, while high, he threw me into the closet door when we were at his place. My back still has bruises. I haven’t told anyone. I’ve been too afraid to do that, too afraid to walk away, so I just let him do what he wants.
But I have to say, this is crossing the line.
I see the police officers on him moments later. They’re cuffing him, and once they lead him away, they tell me to open my door. I do it. They gaze at me like they almost feel sorry for me, but then…
“Ms. Pierce I need you to step out of the vehicle.”
I’m still clutching my face as I comply, and one of them wraps me in a blanket, gripping me by the arm, while the other goes into the back of the limo.
Fuck. The cocaine.
He doesn’t have to say a word when he reemerges. The two small ziplocs, one with coke and one with my pills, are more than enough to tell me that I’m in deep trouble. The officer that’s been gripping my arm reads me rights as he handcuffs me, and leads me over to the awaiting squad car, still naked under the ratty blanket. I see Chet in the one directly across from it, passed out in the back.
My career is over. It’s hilarious. I gave up the one person who loved the person I really am, for the good of my career.
Now, my career is over anyway.
Karma is a bitch, I guess. I’m just getting what I deserve now.
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