The Fame Game

by Lauren Conrad

  “I’ll get it mixed and mastered as soon as possible and send it to Trevor Lord,” Mike said.

  “Well, I won’t get my hopes up,” Kate said, although she already had. “So we’re done for the day?” she asked, indicating the cameras.

  “Yep. Got what we needed.”

  As soon as Kate knew that the cameras weren’t rolling anymore, she felt herself deflate. She sank down on top of a big Fender amp and ran her fingers through her wavy hair.

  “What’s the matter?” Laurel asked, peering at her with a worried expression. “You were seriously fantastic.”

  Kate shook her head. She wanted to bask in the glow of performing well—of not being intimidated by all the gold records on the wall or the countless blinking lights on the soundboard. Trouble was, she just couldn’t.

  Laurel knelt down in front of her and touched her knee. “Come on, something’s the matter. Tell me.”

  Kate looked into Laurel’s wide, dark eyes. She didn’t know Laurel that well, and though they’d shared some laughs on The Fame Game sets, she wasn’t sure she could trust her. What if Kate told her what was going on, and then she went running back to Trevor with the news? She wished Natalie were here, or her sister or her mom, or even Ethan. Someone she’d known for longer than a month.

  Laurel sat down and folded her long legs lotus-style. “Look,” she said, “I know this stuff can be really weird. And hard, too. It’s a whole different thing when you have to live your life in front of a camera.”

  Kate nodded. “You know, I was thinking the other day: I used to be really into nature documentaries when I was a kid. The kind where some biologist with a camera would follow around a wolf pack for months, watching how they interacted, how they hunted, what they ate, and where they slept. I thought it was so cool. But it never occurred to me what the wolf might feel like, having a camera in his face all the time.”

  Laurel laughed. “Of course, they hid the cameras from the wolves, though.”

  “Right. Because they couldn’t sign releases,” Kate said. “And they kept flubbing their lines.”

  Laurel’s laugh turned into a snort. “No, I think it was actually because the wolves might try to eat them.”

  Kate waved this away. “Sure, whatever. But seriously, it’s not even the cameras. I’m getting used to them in my life. It’s the way they complicate other people’s lives. . . .”

  Laurel frowned lightly. “What do you mean?”

  Kate sighed. She just needed to talk to someone about it. Now. Which meant that Laurel would have to do.

  “Is this about that Gossip story about Luke Kelly and which Fame Game girl he’s dating? The PopTV publicist said she was sending you a PDF of it. Your picture was only smaller because people don’t know who you are yet.”

  “PDF not received, so no, it’s not about that. I mean, it is about which Fame Game girl Luke Kelly is dating but—”

  “Yeah, we figured out it was Carmen,” Laurel said.

  Kate shook her head, unable to stop her mouth. “No, it’s not Carmen. Luke is dating me. He’s only pretending to date Carmen.”

  Laurel raised her eyebrows. “Shut your face!” Then, once she’d recovered, she added, “How is that working out?”

  “Fine for them,” Kate said. “I just . . . I don’t know. I guess I’m just bothered by the fact that I’m not good enough to be Luke Kelly’s public girlfriend.” Suddenly, she turned to Laurel, eyes blazing. “You can’t tell anyone about this,” she demanded. “Especially not any of the producers.”

  Laurel looked slightly taken aback by Kate’s fierceness. “Okay,” she said. “I won’t.”

  Kate twisted her hands in her lap. “I’m mad, but I don’t know if it’s fair to be mad. And if it is fair, then who should I be more mad at? Luke, for pretending he’s with Carmen, or Carmen for going along with it?”

  Laurel smiled sympathetically. “Honestly, I don’t think you should be mad at either one of them. They’re just playing by the rules of the game.” She took a sip from her travel mug and sighed. “Let me tell you a little secret about life in L.A. None of it is real, whether you’re on a reality TV show or not. Everyone is scheming, and everyone is looking out for number one. The Fame Game isn’t just the name of this TV show. It’s basically the theme around here. Everyone wants to be famous. And only a lucky few get to be.” She reached out and poked Kate in the shin. “Like you, Kate Hayes. You are one of the lucky ones.”

  Kate nodded slowly. Carmen had given her a speech very much like this one. Kate knew she ought to be grateful. And she was, she really, really was. But she didn’t feel lucky. She felt weird. The chorus of her song circled around in her head. Holding on as tight as we can before the bright lights shine our way . . .

  Chapter 26

  The Good Ol’ Days

  Madison scrutinized, for one last time, the lunch that the Urth caterers had laid out on the dining room table and pronounced herself satisfied. There was tomato-basil soup, organic spinach salad, and a Mediterranean platter of grilled baby artichokes, hummus, tabouli, stuffed grape leaves, and olives. Everything looked fresh and delicious, garnished with Urth’s signature edible orchids. She smiled. Her father had probably never eaten this well in his whole life.

  She was expecting him and Sophie any minute. The visit had been Trevor’s idea, but Madison had been happy about it. She’d gone from resisting Trevor’s efforts to get her family on film to welcoming them. Trevor wanted to get some footage of the family looking through old photographs? Fine! Great! Sophie had an album from the good ol’ days, such as they were, and Madison had a giant couch they could all sit on to look at it. As far as Madison was concerned, it was a win-win situation: She got to spend time with her dad, and she got to play the part of the forgiving daughter and big sister for the PopTV audience.

  Sophie continued to be something of a wild card. She was still working the love goddess act—so perfectly, in fact, that Madison was tempted to believe it wasn’t an act at all. But her sister had always gone through phases (skateboarder, goth, rocker chick, burnout), and this was probably just a longer and friendlier phase than her previous ones.

  Madison examined herself in the hallway full-length mirror (one of seven in her apartment, so she knew what she looked like in every room, in every light) and smoothed the front of her Joie top. She was going to have to see her colorist soon; there was the tiniest hint of dark roots in the part of her pale golden hair. She gave her nose a quick dot of powder and then went back to the table and plucked a spinach leaf from the salad.

  “Aren’t they supposed to be here now?” Laurel asked.

  Madison turned to her and to the camera crew that had set up in the corner of the room. She had gotten so good at ignoring them she’d almost believed that she was alone in her apartment. “Yes, but you know my sister. She likes to be fashionably late.” She held up her phone. “I’ll text her,” she said.

  Laurel looked surprised; she wasn’t used to Friendly, Helpful Madison.

  WHERE THE HELL R U? GET YR HIPPIE ASS OVER HERE, Madison typed. (She couldn’t be 100 percent friendly, after all.)

  And then, almost as if the text had magically summoned her guests, Madison’s security phone sounded. After she saw them in the little screen and buzzed them in, she glided over to the door and waited a full minute, aware that the cameras were now rolling. She opened the door with a big smile on her face.

  “Namaste,” Sophie greeted her, leaning in to give Madison a kiss. She was wearing a lavender tunic over black leggings; a large crystal hung from a gold chain around her neck. “The divine in me salutes the divine in you.”

  “Yeah, hi,” Madison said.

  Behind Sophie, Charlie shifted from foot to foot nervously. He took a step forward and then paused; it was obvious that he couldn’t decide whether to hug Madison or kiss her or what. Madison reached for his arm and led him into the apartment. “Come on in,” she said.

  “Wow,” Sophie said, taking in the lunch spread. “N
ice.”

  “Organic,” Madison announced. “You guys want to eat now or hang out for a few minutes first?”

  “Let’s eat now.” Sophie sniffed at the soup. “This isn’t made with chicken stock, is it? You know I’m a vegetarian.”

  “Oh really,” Madison said skeptically. “How enlightened of you. Well, it’s vegetarian, don’t worry.” She turned to her father. “Here, take a plate. You look hungry.”

  Charlie took the proffered plate and stood over the table. He pointed to a stuffed grape leaf. “What’s that?” he asked.

  “Dolmas,” she told him. “It’s rice and herbs and spices wrapped inside a grape leaf.”

  “Oh.” Charlie still sounded confused. He hovered for a while and put a few dollops of things on his plate. Madison ladled some soup into a bowl for him and gestured for him to sit down at the far end of the table, next to Sophie, who already had a heaping plate of food.

  She herself was too wired to feel hungry—plus she didn’t like to eat on-camera. Chewing was so . . . unbecoming.

  “So, how are you liking your new house?” she asked her dad, taking a sip of hibiscus tea.

  Charlie smiled. “It’s wonderful, Sweetpea. I wake up in the morning in that comfortable bed and feel like the luckiest man in the world.”

  “Good,” Madison said. “It’s about time you felt lucky.”

  “When are you going to rent me a house, sis?” Sophie asked. “My apartment is too small. There’s no space to do yoga.”

  Madison gave a ladylike little snort. “Um, right after I finish paying off your rehab.” Oops, she thought, must remember to play nice.

  Sophie looked hurt. She was so pretty and so pitiful, all at the same time—the cameras were going to love that.

  “Just kidding!” Madison said brightly. “I’m sure we can find you a better place soon!”

  She glanced over to her father, who was only picking at his food. “What’s the matter?” she asked. “Don’t you like it?”

  Charlie met her eyes sheepishly. “Honestly, Sweetpea, I don’t know what any of this stuff is. You’re looking at a guy who lives on burgers and microwave popcorn.”

  She reached over and patted his hand. “Just try it. It’s all good, and it’s all good for you. You’ve got to get used to taking better care of yourself.”

  “Mmmhmm,” Sophie said, her mouth full. “You should try yoga too. It’s so rejuvenating.”

  Madison’s BlackBerry buzzed and she glanced down at the screen. FAMILY MEMORIES!! Laurel had written.

  Right. Okay. Madison quickly racked her brain for some happy childhood memory, one that wouldn’t feel like a complete non sequitur. The problem was, there weren’t that many to choose from. There was the time they got that puppy—but then their mom made them give it away because it peed on the floor. Or what about that Christmas when they got canned food from the local food bank in their stockings?

  She was striking out on the nostalgia front—she should have given this more thought beforehand. Then suddenly she recalled a tumbling class that she and Sophie had taken when they were little. Yoga—gymnastics. Perfect transition.

  “Remember how we took that gymnastics class at the Y?” Madison said. “How it took you, like, two months to learn how to somersault?”

  Charlie laughed. “Oh, and then once she did? She wouldn’t stop with the somersaults. She did them up and down the hallway.”

  Instead of getting defensive, Sophie smiled, too. “Oh my God, I did them until I was practically sick to my stomach. I got so dizzy!” Then she paused, as if something had just occurred to her. “You know, I bet I have pictures of that,” she said.

  “Really?” Madison asked. Sophie had picked up the cue perfectly; as much as Madison hated to admit it, the girl was a natural. “Where?”

  “Actually,” Sophie said, pretending to be self-conscious, “I have an old photo album. I brought it because I thought it might be fun . . . you know, all of us together again?”

  “Oh, bring it out!” Madison said.

  Thankfully Charlie had left when Madison was still young enough to be naturally darling: before her blond hair darkened, before she gained weight, before her adult teeth came in completely crooked. It was a good thing Trevor hadn’t asked to show an album from Madison’s junior high or high school years; she would have died before allowing such a thing.

  Sophie extracted a battered-looking album from her giant hemp-fiber bag and the three of them went into the living room to gather on the couch. Charlie brought his plate in and continued to pick at his food. Madison hoped he wouldn’t spill any tabouli on the carpet.

  The camera came in close, focusing on the photographs. They were beginning to fade and turn yellowish, which gave the scenes a sort of golden glow.

  “Oh, look,” said Madison, pointing to a picture of the two of them all bundled up in snowsuits. “Remember that storm? When school was canceled for, like, a week?”

  “Totally.” Sophie nodded. “That was awesome.”

  Charlie laughed. “Awesome for you two. I seem to remember having to dig the truck out from under six feet of snow. And then, after I dug it out, I got stuck on the turnout to the highway. Had to leave it there for two days.” He shook his head. “I guess looking back now it’s kind of funny.”

  “What’s that saying? ‘Tragedy plus time equals comedy’?” Madison asked.

  Sophie shrugged. “Who knows? But you sure knew how to rock snow pants, Mad. Too bad you live where you’ll never need them again.”

  “We all live where we’ll never need them again.” Madison squeezed her dad’s arm.

  Charlie stood. “Sweetpea, where’s your bathroom?”

  “Go down that hall, and it’s the third door on your left.”

  She watched her father walk away and was pleased to see that he’d bought a new pair of jeans. Those khakis of his had gotten seriously tired.

  Sophie turned the page and came to a picture of their mother in a flowered dress. “She sure was pretty back then,” she said.

  Madison nodded. Her mother had been the Rensselaer County Fair Queen three years in a row when she was young. It was sad, thinking about the way she’d let herself go. Madison would never, ever let that happen to her.

  “Is that Licorice?” Sophie asked.

  Madison peered at a dark blur in the corner of the picture. It could have been her old cat or it could have been a shadow. “Not sure,” she said.

  “This is kind of fun, isn’t it?” Sophie asked.

  Madison nodded. “Yes,” she said. “It actually is.”

  Charlie came back into the room then, looking slightly embarrassed. “I opened the wrong door,” he said. “Ended up in your roommate’s room.”

  “Oh, Gaby, right! Well, she doesn’t bite,” Madison laughed.

  “Should we take her a plate of food?” Charlie asked.

  Madison shook her head. “No, she’s on a juice cleanse.”

  Charlie ran his hands through his hair. “I tell you, it’s a different world you girls live in out here.”

  “Maybe it is,” Madison said. “But I’m glad you’re in it. So start liking it, all right?”

  Chapter 27

  Good Times, Good Times

  “How come your furniture is so much softer than mine?” Kate asked as she settled into an overstuffed chair at Madison and Gaby’s. “I swear, it’s like sitting on rocks over at my place.”

  Madison handed her a glass of Champagne. “We needed extra cushioning for Gaby’s bony butt.”

  Gaby poked her head into the room. “Really? You think my butt is bony? Thanks!”

  Madison rolled her eyes. “That wasn’t supposed to be a compliment,” she said to Kate. “But whatever.”

  The three of them had gathered to watch Gaby’s interview with Carmen from last week. Naturally the PopTV cameras were there to film their reactions. But Carmen wasn’t, even though the shooting schedule had said she would be. It was kind of weird, Kate thought. Shouldn’t Carmen see
the airing of her interview on-camera, too? Wasn’t her reaction more important than Kate’s, for example, considering that she had had nothing to do with the segment? Well, she had to assume that Trevor had some reason for Carmen’s absence, and that she’d either never know what it was or she’d find out in a couple months when the episode aired. (Or she could just ask Carmen later, she guessed.)

  The other weird thing about today was that the Gossip magazine piece had come out. It was the first public announcement of Kate’s involvement with The Fame Game, and now her email inbox and Facebook profile were crowded with messages—some from friends and family, and some from people whose faces she could hardly even remember. (Darcy Krapke? Hadn’t Kate last laid eyes on her back in the fifth grade?) It was exciting, having so many notes of congratulations and best wishes, but it was also sort of unsettling. Pretty soon everyone she’d ever known (and a lot of people she’d never met) would be watching her in their living rooms at night. What would they think of her? She shuddered. It was too much—she needed to pretend, for as long as possible, that it wasn’t happening. That was the only way not to freak out entirely.

  And then there was Madison’s reaction after she read the article. She’d called Kate—which she never did—and said, “Welcome to the world of Gossip magazine! Hey, whatever happened with that guy you met at Whisper? What was his name?”

  Kate had been so caught off guard that she didn’t answer for what felt like a full minute. Madison had asked the question so innocently, but the timing and the fact that she was asking it at all made Kate think there was nothing innocent about it. “Oh, um, yeah, it kind of fizzled out,” she finally managed, certain that Madison knew she was lying.

  “It’s coming on, it’s coming on,” Gaby squealed, as the Buzz! News logo revolved in a glittering ball on the giant flat screen.

  Madison settled in on an ottoman, but Gaby seemed too nervous to sit.

  “Calm down,” Madison said. “The interview is always in the second half of the show. And we’re watching in real time so we can’t skip commercials.”