The Little Barmaid

by Holloway, Taylor

  “What about Ariel?” I asked. I was genuinely worried that our fledgling relationship couldn’t withstand much more pressure. The media blitz surrounding the release was going to be really hard on us both.

  Elaine blinked. “What about her, Derek?” Her voice was sympathetic, but firm. “Ariel has her own contract with Ursula. She’s got her own problems and she probably needs her own agent. But I can’t help her.”

  I paused and hung my head. “Fine. I get that, but I can’t go on this tour. It’ll destroy us.”

  Elaine stared me in the eye. “Derek, what do you want more? A chorus girl or your Oscar?”

  “Is that what you asked Tommy? And how did that turn out?”

  Elaine’s eyes were wide. “Are you threatening me with a math degree? I thought we just agreed that was off the table.”

  “No. I’m not threatening you with anything. But it can’t be a choice. I want to make sure there’s a path to both Ariel and my Oscar. I’m not Tommy. I’m me. And I think I can have both. I’m willing to work for both, but I don’t believe in no-win scenarios. That’s why I have you, isn’t it? To do the impossible?”

  She blinked. “Okay. That’s fair. Let me see what I can do. In the meantime, though, you’ve got to stick to the PR. Keep Ursula happy. Keep Ariel hidden. Let me talk to the lawyers, and Ursula’s agent, and then probably more lawyers.” Her expression turned cunning. “I mean, we do know that Ursula isn’t really—”

  “No!” I said, sitting up. “You can’t tell anyone about that. It would violate Ariel’s contract and get her in trouble. I shouldn’t have even told you, but I only did it because I knew I could trust you implicitly.”

  Elaine blinked. “The fact that she’s lying to the studio is just about the only bargaining chip we have to get her on our side to cancel the tour. If both of you want to pull out of the publicity tour it might be our only chance of killing it.”

  “There’s got to be something else.”

  She thought about it for a moment. “Well, there might be. There could be some bit of dirt we can use as leverage, but you aren’t going to like the source of said information.”

  “Meg.”

  “That’s right. She’s the gossip queen. If anyone knows something incriminating about Ursula that we can use to flip her on the tour, then we have to approach her.”

  “I assume you don’t mean me, personally.”

  She looked at me like I was a moron. “Derek, listen carefully, don’t ever go within twenty feet of that woman. I’ll call her.”

  “That’s what I figured.”

  Elaine sighed. “Okay Derek,” she said, “I’ll start working on this. I’m going to try to find a way out for you. I can probably get you out of the engagement. I might be able to get you out of the tour. But it’s going to cost us something, and I do mean monetary. I need to know how far you’re willing to go.”

  “I don’t care about the money. But I’ll give up anything but Ariel.”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “Are you sure. Anything?”

  I nodded. “Anything.”

  She nodded her head. I saw the gears starting to turn behind her eyes. “I can work with anything.” She looked down at her watch and winced. “You better go. I need to make a few calls before it gets late.”

  I rose to go. “I appreciate your help, Elaine. I really do. And you never need to worry about me going to Stanford. I doubt they’d take me back.”

  “Don’t thank me yet,” she said. “But I’ll do my best.”

  “I trust you.”

  She looked grossed out at my sincerity. “Don’t get emotional on me, Derek. Now go home before I change my mind,” she paused, turning contemplative. “Or decide to raise my rates.”

  I left in a hurry and I heard her laughing as the door swung shut. Hollywood was a weird place.

  38

  Ariel

  “Do you smell something?” Jess asked Flo, looking around the dressing room. I’d just walked in to fix my hair before we started shooting for the day.

  Flo frowned and then looked around herself. “Yeah. You know what? I do. Something is in here. Something nasty.”

  “It smells like something died,” Jess replied. Her voice was utterly disgusted. She stared right at me, just in case I didn’t get the hint.

  Flo turned to me as well. “Yeah. It’s a rotting, rancid-type smell. Like a dead rat. Like something that shouldn’t be in here.”

  I didn’t smell anything. But then again, I knew they meant me. Subtlety wasn’t exactly Flo or Jess’s strong suit.

  “Let’s get out of here before the stink rubs off on us,” Flo said to Jess. “I don’t want to be contaminated.” She held her nose like the smell was so much that she could hardly stand it.

  Jess nodded, pretending to retch. “Ugh. Me neither.”

  They sauntered off, taking several other sheep—I mean girls—with them. I was left standing awkwardly. The other girls that remained in the dressing room wouldn’t even meet my eyes. One by one, they left too. Soon, I was alone.

  I’d been alone a lot lately.

  The vibe on set had been getting worse and worse. Ursula had really worked her magic on the other chorus girls. Practically nobody spoke to me now at all. I’d become untouchable.

  Jess and Flo had become the ringleaders of a full-scale assault on me. They were doing their very best to make me miserable and it was wildly successful. Between keeping my relationship with Derek a secret and the unrelenting nastiness from Flo and Jess, I was almost at my wit’s end.

  The rumors had been swirling for weeks at this point. They’d gotten nastier and nastier. Ariel is sleeping around with Derek. Ariel will sleep with anyone. Ariel was going to be fired because she can’t dance, but she slept with some producer and he saved her job. Ariel is trying to steal Derek away from Ursula, and everyone should watch out for her. In reality, Ariel just wanted to come to work, do her job, and avoid any more drama. But that seemed to be impossible.

  Even the few girls who didn’t seem to buy into the campaign against me were avoiding me now. Not all the girls were bad people who jumped on the bullying train, but they weren’t exactly sticking up for me either. I guess I understood why. It didn’t do them any good to get on Ursula’s bad side on my account. The best I could do was to keep my head down and ignore it.

  It’s not like I could publicly confront Ursula. That would obviously cost me my job. So, I was stuck between a rock and a hard place, constantly being demeaned and whispered about. It didn’t make for a pleasant work environment at all.

  I settled in at my spot in front of the mirror, sighing. Then I saw that someone had been messing with my makeup bag. It wasn’t where I left it yesterday. Worry shot through me.

  What if they did something to my stuff? I unzipped the bag, already dreading what I might find. Sure enough, somebody had slipped a note in there, written in what looked like my own red lipstick. It looked like blood though.

  You don’t belong here.

  Original. So original. They wrote it on the mirror last week. Honestly, that had been scarier. This was just lazy and repetitive.

  I crumpled it up and threw it in the trashcan, and then had to do a doubletake at the can. Most of my stage makeup was in there, and it looked like it had been stomped on first. Frustration and anger welled up in me. This was the third batch of stage makeup I’d lost on set so far. The other two had just disappeared along with some of my other things. But this time they were actively sabotaging it and just letting me find the evidence. They weren’t even being subtle anymore (although the mirror threat hadn’t exactly been subtle, either).

  It was really my own fault. I should have locked everything up in my locker before I left. I knew that it wasn’t safe, but I’d been hopeful that they’d just give up after a while. Didn’t it get boring to endlessly torment someone? Apparently not. My attempt to take the high road had clearly been unsuccessful.

  Things had really been escalating lately with the bullying. I�
�m not sure Ursula even knew what kind of a monster she’d created by turning Flo and Jess into my tormentors. Dancers are cutthroat. They’ll trip you down the stairs with their pointe shoes and then sashay away like it was nothing.

  We only had one more day of real filming left, and I was anxious for it to be over. We were shooting the finale scene today, the big, show-stopping chorus number. I’d be dancing a solo today. And I’d be wearing regular damn makeup from my purse because I was out of the oil-based stuff that lasted all day, which meant I’d be reapplying it ad nauseum. But it would have to do. I was in the background anyway. Nobody would really be looking at me.

  I put on my makeup with all the pep and enthusiasm of someone about to attend a funeral. This was supposed to be a happy time. I was finishing up my first movie. I was going to dance a solo today. But I wasn’t happy. Not at all.

  Not only did all my fellow chorus girls despise me, but the conversation that I had with my mom this weekend was still fresh and painful in my mind. I’d done what she asked. I’d gone through every conversation that I ever had with Derek and Ursula and looked for some proof that I wasn’t just the side chick. And the results were bleak. The more I thought about it, the more I worried that my mom was right.

  And Derek wasn’t exactly doing much to change things either. He’d cancelled our date this weekend and the few texts that he sent me had me worried. It was almost like he knew I was catching on and would soon confront him. I tried not to read it that way, but it was hard.

  It’s not like I really knew the man. He was a Hollywood star. And what was I? Nothing. A nobody who could sort of sing that just happened to rescue him from a gaggle of horny bachelorettes that one time. He probably saw me as an easy conquest who turned into a convenient one. It’s not like I tried to put up much resistance. I’d pursued him. I’d made it easy for him to keep me secret.

  And Ursula? Well she sucked. But if what my dad said was true, then it made perfect sense for her to hate me. I was, after all, infringing on her territory. I thought back to my first day on set when I’d danced with Derek and been interrupted by Ursula. She’d told me then that Derek forgot all about me when I wasn’t around. I hated to entertain the thought, but maybe she was right.

  “Ugh, there’s that smell again,” Flo said when I walked on set that morning to join the group.

  I rolled my eyes at her. “Give it up,” I told her, snapping. “This is the last day of filming. Maybe lay off a bit?”

  “Please. You don’t get a vote,” she stammered. “You shouldn’t even be here.”

  “Do you really believe that?” I asked her.

  She nodded. “Of course, I do. The only reason you’re still here is because you slept around enough to make a few friends.”

  “Uh-huh. Sure. Are you saying that I slept with Mia and that’s why I got my solo?”

  She laughed. “Probably. Maybe you go both ways.”

  I rolled my eyes at her. “And maybe you’re just a bitch.”

  Flo didn’t seem to know what to say. She gaped at me. Bullies never seem to know how to respond when you call them out on their shit in public. It’s much easier to be cruel in private. I should have done this a long time ago. I started to walk away, feeling if not vindicated, a least a little bit less stepped on.

  “You don’t belong here,” Flo said to my retreating back.

  “Well, I’ll be out of your hair this afternoon, won’t I?”

  It was Jess who replied. She smirked and shoulder checked me. I stumbled back. “Yeah, maybe you will be,” she said.

  39

  Derek

  “I think we should take a break,” Mia said to the chorus girls. Ariel and her fellow dancers relaxed gratefully. They’d been holding position for twenty minutes while the lighting guys fiddled with something just not quite right. I was stuck too, but I was just chilling in center stage with Ursula. They’d been mid can-can for some time now and it was obvious that they couldn’t stay that way forever. “We’ll get the lighting fixed and then put you back up there in a minute.”

  This whole day had been a low-grade disaster. Ever since we got on set this morning to find the donuts had somehow gotten smushed by craft services, it had been one irritant after another. We were almost at the end of filming, but the finale scene we were trying to shoot seemed cursed. First the sound went out. Then the cameras started going on the fritz. Now the lighting seemed to be rebelling. It was putting additional pressure on my already fragile and worried state of mind.

  Ariel had been wary and cagey all day. She looked pale when she wasn’t smiling for the cameras. She would barely even look at me. Although we’d agreed some time back to keep our distance from one another on set, I could feel that something was different now. Something was bothering Ariel and she wouldn’t even return my texts so I could ask her about it.

  On top of everything else, I still needed to tell her about the tour. It was only a matter of time before word got to her, and it might have already. I needed to reassure her that not only would I not be disappearing for three months, I was working to make sure that this fake engagement we were both suffering through was going to end soon. I knew that Elaine would find a solution. She always did. I should have probably reached out to her weeks ago, but I really did think I had things under control.

  Just as Ariel was passing under the light, something above us creaked, squealed, and then whistled. I don’t know what came over me, but I knew in that instant that something was about to fall and hurt Ariel. I moved on instinct.

  In a move that would probably make my brother Peter, king of action movies, proud, I dove across the stage, scooping Ariel up into my arms and pushing us both out of the way of a falling light. I heard it slam into the ground right as I fell too, carried by inertia right into a conveniently situated fake plant. Ariel and I went down, tumbling into the plant and escaping with only a few little bumps.

  Ariel looked up at me, clearly stunned to be in my arms, in a plant, on the ground. She blinked her big blue eyes.

  “Derek?” she stuttered, putting her palms against my chest and looking shaken. “What happened?”

  “The light,” I replied, looking over my shoulder, panting. “The light fell.”

  Her gaze followed my pointing finger and her lips parted in disbelief.

  “Thank you,” she said softly. Her eyes were staring into mine in a way that made me very much want to kiss her. I had to resist with every fiber of my being.

  “Don’t mention it.”

  Adrenaline and attraction fought in my veins.

  The set was pin drop quiet. The moment lengthened. Around us, the entire cast and crew were too stunned to speak, staring at the smoking light where Ariel had been standing just seconds before. Then all hell broke loose.

  “Oh my God!” Mia cried, getting up from her chair and motioning for the crew. “Get the medic!”

  A flurry of activity started around us and Ariel pushed her way out of my arms, rising like she was on fire. She disappeared around a corner, running from the contact with me. Rationally I knew it probably wasn’t ideal from a PR standpoint to be cuddling with her in a fern, but the sudden lack of her in my arms was palpable. The look on her face when Ursula came to check on me was painful.

  “Are you alright?” Ursula crooned, throwing herself down and into my arms. “That was so brave! I can’t believe the light just fell like that. What a horrible accident. It’s so wonderful that no one was hurt.”

  In the ensuing chaos, I was hailed as a hero. Nobody knew what happened with the light. But the way Ursula was standing guiltily off to the side gave me a bad feeling. It wasn’t too long before I had a chance to interrogate her.

  “Tell me you had nothing to do with a two-hundred-point light almost crushing my girlfriend,” I muttered in her ear, pretending affection in between takes.

  She batted her eyes at me. “Gosh Derek, why would I drop a light on myself?”

  I ground my teeth. “Ursula, what did you do?”
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  “Nothing!” she said. Her expression was annoyed. “Honestly, Derek. Do you have to blame me for everything that goes wrong in your life? I didn’t drop a light on Ariel. I was standing in the shot, remember? It could have as easily crushed me. Now, if Ariel’s made other enemies on this set, that’s her problem. Nobody likes a promiscuous woman. Or a cheater.” She shrugged. “If someone got it in their head that taking Ariel out of circulation for a bit might help the movie, well then they might just try it, you know? We all want to be successful.”

  I swallowed hard. Ursula may not have personally had anything to do with the light almost killing Ariel, but I had a bad feeling she’d been fomenting resentment against Ariel for weeks, and this was just the culmination of it. Somebody on set, probably a disgruntled, jealous somebody, was out to get Ariel. Whether it was misplaced loyalty to Ursula or a personal vendetta, Ariel was no longer safe on this production. Thankfully we only had one more scene to shoot and we’d be done for good.

  “Ursula, it’s one thing to dislike Ariel,” I said, whispering in her ear and wearing a smile the whole time. “It’s one thing to be jealous of her. Or even to hate her. But to let things get so out of hand that a person might be hurt? That’s really pathetic. I can’t wait for this to be over.”

  She blinked at me. “It’s not going to be over for at least three and a half more months,” she replied. “Hate me all you want, but you’re going to be seeing a whole lot more of me. And no, I had nothing to do with that light. Jesus. I might not be your favorite person in the world, but I’m not an attempted murderer either.”

  “Why don’t I trust you?”

  “I don’t know,” Ursula said, shaking her head. “You should. Everything I’ve done so far is for both of us. I’m helping you.”

  “I don’t feel helped.”

  “You will when you win your Oscar. But in the meantime, you’re just going to have to get used to me.”

  I shrugged. “Don’t count on it. You’ve been full of surprises lately, but I’ve got a few of my own in store for you.” I grinned at her, stepping back and offering her my hand. “So, baby? Wanna’ shoot this final scene and go home?” I asked, loud enough that everyone around could hear us. “I’ve got a date planned for us tonight that will knock your socks off.”