Focus Lost

by Doug Cooper

  A silver frost and Moroccan blue Duotone Bentley Mul-sanne Grand Limousine pulls up. Cameras flash and the crowd swoons in fervid anticipation. A white-gloved, tuxedo-clad valet opens the rear door, extending an arm inside to help out the guest. Eva emerges in the strapless midnight blue Gucci Premiere gown from SJK. She waves and smiles despite the obvious disappointment from the spectators who have no idea who she is. Despite being well-known around town with the industry crowd, her face is unfamiliar to the fans who camped out and assembled to get a glimpse at the arriving stars.

  Stepping to the side, she sweeps her subtle train behind her to make room for Levi. Just the sight of his Brioni patent leather loafer leading from the back seat stokes the smoldering excitement of the crowd. The rest of him emerging in the custom Armani suit sends them into a frenzy. Standing next to Eva, he waves and smiles to the effusive congregation.

  Levi offers his arm to Eva to begin the journey down the red carpet. Caustic questions from a cluster of cameras cut through the raucous reception.

  “Where’s Emily?”

  “Were you her first?”

  “Is it true she’s carrying your baby?”

  Levi steps toward the photographer who spewed the last one. Eva whisks him toward a familiar female entertainment reporter for an interview.

  The reporter says, “If there was an award for the most frenzied welcome, you would definitely win it. How does all this make you feel?”

  Levi regains his composure. “I was invited last year as a presenter, and that was amazing. To be here one year later as a nominee is really unbelievable. A dream come true.”

  The reporter swats away his clichéd response, going deeper to the topic viewers really want to hear about. “Does it take away from the experience that a lot of this hype is because of the pictures with Emily James?”

  “She’s a fine actress,” Levi says, keeping his cool. “Working together on the film, we became good friends.”

  “Does that mean you will continue to see each other?” the reporter asks.

  Eva intervenes. “Levi and Emily’s relationship is not a matter of public discussion. We’re here to celebrate the film and all the work by those who helped create it.”

  The reporter maintains her course of questioning. “Do you think the scandalous pictures will cost you the Oscar?”

  Levi’s jaw tightens as he leans forward toward the reporter in an aggressive stance. “Is this all you want to talk about? I mean, you only have me for a few minutes and this is it?”

  Eva pulls Levi away leading him down the red carpet toward the next interview.

  The reporter turns and speaks directly to the camera. “Well, as you can see, things are heating up on the red carpet. Should be an interesting night.”

  Eva guides Levi off to the side to straighten his tie before proceeding into the tent. “You have to hold it together. It’s going to be a long night if you get riled up that easily.”

  Levi says, “Can you believe that bitch?”

  Eva forces a smile for all the eyes she feels on them. “You know the game, they’re trying to get a reaction from you.”

  Levi flutters his lips in frustration. “After all the hard work, all they want to ask about are those fucking pictures.”

  “You haven’t made things easier with all your shenanigans lately.” She brushes off each side of his shoulders. “The more you show it bothers you, the worse it will get.” Looking up at him, she notices the white flakes coating the bottom of his nostrils. She takes a tissue from her purse. “Wipe your nose. That’s all we need is for them to capture that shit on camera.”

  Levi takes the tissue and covers his nose, but instead of blowing, he inhales powerfully through each nostril to not lose any of the cocaine he had been doing in the limo on the way. “So help me, if I lose this because of those pictures, I’ll—”

  Eva adjusts his pocket square. “Try to relax and enjoy the night, okay? What’s done is done.”

  The farther along the red carpet, the fluffier the interviews become. The queries devolve from journalistic obligation about Emily to the expected superficial trappings of the night, such as who they’re wearing and where they’re going to after. They finish their final interview in front of the bleachers and wave one final time before proceeding toward the towering portal entrance facing Hollywood Boulevard. For the first time in a while, they share the same intention and goal: to see how many drinks they can throw down at the lobby bar before the show starts.

  They stroll through the Awards Walk, which features the backlit glass plaques for each Best Picture Oscar winner on a series of limestone portals. Eva says, “None of the bullshit will matter once your name is announced.”

  The theater lobby has five levels with a grand spiral staircase in the center. Eva takes each step slowly, gliding her hand along the cherry balustrade, partly to steady herself but also to make the moment last.

  Levi, several steps ahead of her, turns around. “Come on, I need to get at least three martinis in me if I’m going to make it through this.”

  Eva stops, looking up at the silver oval dome above, no longer in a hurry. “You know what, go ahead. I’ll meet you at the bar. I want to soak this in a bit.”

  “And face these backstabbing vultures by myself?” Levi holds his arm out, waiting for her. “Not a chance.”

  They ascend the remaining steps surrounded by images of past winners. Eva wonders if Levi even cares that in a few short hours he could be one of them, or if like most things he is just focusing on what he needs and wants in the moment. She had convinced herself that everything she had been doing since she had met him nine years ago was to get to this moment. She had really believed all along that what she was doing was for him, to help him. But finally, here, she realizes it was really for herself. She just needed him to get here.

  At the bar, ordering two drinks at a time, Levi downs two martinis and cues up two more. When the lights flash to signal for everyone to move to their seats, he chugs the remaining one and a half so he has enough time to balance out the alcohol with one more visit to a restroom stall.

  Inside the theater, the audience chamber is intimate, much more than the size of the stage would dictate. The overhead structure loops around like a tiara, supporting and disguising the grid required for the intricate lighting. Reflective ribs from the tiara extend down between the theatre’s box seats, creating a continuous flow from wall to ceiling. A young attractive man and woman escort them to their seats, which are in the front row since Levi is a nominee, and at least when the tickets were dispersed, a favorite to win.

  Eva sinks into her seat, her legs wobbly from the excitement and anticipation of the impending coronations. She rubs her hands on the deep plum upholstery appreciating the history of the ones who sat in the seats before her. The iridescent fabric and fine bronze mesh of the closed curtain shimmer before her.

  Levi focuses more on those seated around and behind him, enjoying making eye contact and connecting, merely to let them know that he is in front of them. Turning back around, he smooths the back of his head, whispering to Eva. “How does my hair look? Hope these fuckers enjoy the view.”

  The lights in the theater dim, drawing attention to the stage. The curtain parts, and a popular male comedian host walks on stage for his opening monologue of culturally relevant but insignificant observations. For the following several hours, the stage fills with presenters, winners, musical acts, and other performances intended to honor the achievements in film from the past year. Levi repeatedly calls over his seat-filler so that he can escape to the lobby and the restroom for refreshment.

  Eva sighs in relief when he returns right before the announcement of his award. She reaches over and grips his thigh, whispering, “I was worried you weren’t going to make it back.” She notices his dilated pupils and distant stare. “Are you okay?”

  Levi widens hi
s eyes and smiles. “Never better.” His right cheek twitches from the recent stimulation.

  The host walks on stage, stopping at the podium. “If you are one of the few people who has not seen the performance of our next candidate for Best Performance by an Actor in a Leading Role then you have to at least have heard the rumors about the source of the chemistry between the costars.” Uncomfortable laughter and groans ripple through the audience. “Making us all reconsider the true meaning of the title, I direct your attention to the video screen with Levi Combs in For Love.”

  Eva squeezes his thigh again, speaking through her smile. “Just let it go. He’s only joking.”

  On the video screen, Levi in orange prison garb confers with his lawyer in a prison meeting room. The lawyer says, “Your daughter told me she was the one who killed your wife.”

  Shackled to the chair Levi thrusts back and forth reacting to the statement. “That’s bullshit. She’s just a scared little girl trying to protect her father.”

  “If the police get wind of this,” the lawyer says, “they’ll reopen the case and reexamine the evidence.

  “You can’t let that happen.” Levi, unable to sit still but with no room to move, shifts in his seat. “We need to hurry this along before they find anything concrete.”

  The lawyer says, “You could change your plea.”

  “Do it.” Levi bangs his shackled hands on the table. “Whatever it takes.”

  The lawyer leans forward, trying to lessen the weight of his words by whispering even though no one is listening. “But that could mean the death penalty.”

  “I don’t care,” Levi says. “I have to protect her. She can’t be implicated.”

  The screen fades to black. In the audience, attendees, uncomfortable with Levi’s alleged offscreen inappropriate relationship with Emily, quietly applaud the performance. Levi acknowledges the muted appreciation with several head-nods.

  The winner for Best Actress in a Leading Role from the previous year walks to the podium. “And now the nominees for Best Actor in a Leading Role.”

  On the video screen, close-ups of the five nominees appear.

  The presenter reads the nominees. “Brad Pitt in Expiration Date, Levi Combs in For Love, Leonardo DiCaprio in Normal Like Us, Jamie Foxx in The Preacher, and Joseph Gordon Levitt in Outside In.” The presenter opens the envelope and removes the announcement. “And the Oscar goes to…Levi Combs in For Love.”

  The audience offers light applause mixed with murmurs of discomfort and reproach. Excited and triumphant Levi rockets out of the seat and bounds to the stage. At the podium his exuberance starkly contrasts the frosty response from the audience. “Based on your reaction, I’m not the only one surprised by this. Despite the negative press over the past week, I hope over time people will be able to appreciate this picture for the touching, humanistic story that it is.”

  Audience members squirm with contempt in their seats, shaking their heads and whispering to one another.

  Levi continues his speech. “I’d like to thank the Academy for honoring me with this prestigious award among such other talented artists. I wish my mother were alive to enjoy this with me. She would be proud today and feel justified in encouraging me to drop out of college to pursue this dream. I’d like to thank everyone who worked on the film, especially the director, Frank Darabont. You are a true wu li master. And of course, I would not be here if it weren’t for a very special and talented woman in my life. Someone who has taught me that to achieve anything great, we must put ourselves on the line and be willing to risk everything: my costar, Ms. Emily James. There is no doubt you will be in this position one day.” Associating the word position with Emily among the swirling accusations deepens the malaise in the audience.

  Music flows from the theater speakers, drowning out Levi and the collective groaning from the audience. Levi keeps talking but no one can hear him. A beautiful female stage assistant walks out to escort him from the stage. Reluctantly he leaves, upset by the reception of his acceptance speech.

  In the audience Eva struggles to restrain the hurt from being snubbed in the speech, and that he gave all the credit to Emily. She didn’t expect much. She had learned never to when it came to Levi. But to not even mention her after she was the one who discovered and nurtured him was outrageous. Others noticed it too. She can feel their eyes on her, but not in sympathy. This crowd didn’t get to where they were by being compassionate and understanding. Uncurbed pity is the only kind of condolence they can muster. Forcing a smile, she stares straight ahead and claps.

  Backstage in the press area, rising above the disappointment, Levi summons a smile to greet the press members waiting to interview him.

  “How did it feel?” one of the reporters blurts.

  Levi says, “Just amazing. As an actor you can’t help but think about this moment throughout your career, but when it happens, you’re still blown away. Very surreal.”

  The reporter clarifies the question. “No, I mean to get booed for winning.”

  Levi says, “Hadn’t noticed. Guess not everyone is fan.”

  Another press member asks, “Are you still going to see Emily James romantically?”

  Levi looks in the opposite direction. “No comment. Next question.”

  A reporter in the back speaks up. “Is it true that you two actually started seeing each other when she was fifteen and your relationship is why she got the role?”

  Levi scans the back rows to identify the source of the question. “You people make me sick. Tonight is about recognizing achievements in the film industry and all you want to talk about are gossip and rumors. Get a fucking life.” He blazes out of the room, his anger igniting further chatter among the press members.

  On his way from the pressroom, Levi sees Emily on stage. He wallows in the wings waiting for her to finish.

  At the podium she and Ira Bethel, another young actor and new client of Eva’s, present another award. Emily says, “Getting started in this business is never easy.”

  Ira continues her sentence. “But after exhaustive effort and a little luck, you catch a break, only to realize…”

  “That’s when the work really starts,” Emily says with perfect timing. “The following nominees for Best Original Screenplay have overcome the odds to not only make it, but also for their first work to be revered.”

  Ira says, “The nominees are Mikhael Gunderson for Over the Influence, Bella Stevens for Wish List, and Nathan Cranfield for Nice To See Me.

  Emily opens the envelope. “And the Oscar goes to Nathan Cranfield for Nice To See Me.”.

  Nathan comes on stage to accept the award. Emily hands him the Oscar and exits with her partner.

  Emily notices Levi waiting, but, as she approaches, she looks away and walks by.

  Levi, still holding his Oscar, says, “What? You’re not even talking to me now? Did you hear me give you credit?” Emily keeps walking. Levi shouts at her back. “I don’t understand why you’re mad at me. This is all your fault.” Chasing after her, he grabs her shoulder and spins her around. “And you’re ignoring me?”

  Emily looks around noticing all the people backstage watching. Reporters pour out of the press area to capture the confrontation. Faking a smile, Emily whispers, “What are you doing? Don’t cause a scene.”

  Levi says, “Can we get together later? I really need to see you. We should celebrate this night together.”

  “I’m sorry. I have plans,” Emily says, reaching down, pretending to admire his Oscar. “I’m sure with this, you will too.”

  He jerks the Oscar away from her like a petulant child. “Just like that, it’s over? You don’t have any time for me?”

  Playing to those watching, Emily ignores his hostility. “Congratulations on your win.” She turns and walks away.

  His whole night falling apart, Levi storms off. The alcohol he had pounded
before and during the show is overpowering the ample amount of cocaine he administered to stay level. He zips toward the restroom by the green room. He might not be able to control what is happening around him, but he isn’t going to let himself be overrun by his buzz too. Unfortunately, the green room squatters and their concomitant sycophants overflow into the hallway and fill the restroom. Unsure where one line ends and the other begins, he reverses direction, ignoring the platitudes and insincere requests for him to join them.

  Eva, wanting to escape the judgmental stares in the auditorium, flees backstage as well. As angry as she is at Levi, he’s the only person she wants to be around. She intercepts him darting away from the green room. “Come on, let’s go out the back through the loading dock.” Levi stumbles. She latches onto his arm. “It looks like you could use some air.”

  Levi thrusts the Oscar at her. “Here take this. You deserve it more than I do anyway. You did all the work.”

  Eva’s hands remain at her sides. “Would’ve been nice for you to say that out there in front of the sixty million people watching worldwide.”

  “So now you’re pissed at me too? Boy, this night is turning to shit. Supposed to be the best night of our lives and here we are hiding in the back of the theater avoiding everyone. Suppose you have a bunch of parties you want me to go to?”

  Eva slowly nods then stops. “You know what? Screw them. Don’t give them the satisfaction. They’ll be expecting you to go and they’ll just be snickering and gossiping behind your back the whole time. But if you don’t show, they’ll think you’re at another party and that will drive them crazy. Just avoid them all together. If you don’t feel like going, don’t. You don’t owe them anything. Make them wonder where you are.” She points toward the back of the theater. “Come on. We can duck out the back and not have to deal with this bullshit at all. I’ll call the driver and have him pick us up.”