Secrets of My Hollywood Life #1: Secrets of My Hollywood Life

by Jen Calonita

  "Thatta girl," she encourages me. "First step is pizza, second is reminding your entourage who is actually in charge of your career."

  Sometimes I envy Lizzie. Liz doesn't take garbage from anybody. She also eats what she wants when she wants. She says she burns up tons of calories in kickboxing, and what she doesn't goes straight to her "large and in charge Latina butt." "If it works for J.Lo, it can work for me," she says when we try on Lucky jeans at The Grove shopping plaza.

  Liz is the type of person who has so much easy self-confidence that you feel good just being around her. She even gets to enjoy many of the same Hollywood perks I do, since her dad is in the business, without ever having to worry about the media concocting wacky stories about her.

  HOLLYWOOD SECRET NUMBER FOUR: You don't have to be an actor, producer, or director to be treated like royalty in Tinseltown. Often it's enough just to be in the industry or a relative of someone famous. Publicists figure that by gifting celebrities' families free cell phones or passes to the hottest parties, the stars will eventually hear about what's being promoted anyway.

  "I'm so frustrated," I complain wearily. "I just wanted a break from the Hollywood scene, you know? I'm not talking about giving up my job. Just a vacation from Sky, the tabloids, and my crazy schedule."

  Liz stops chewing and looks at me curiously. "Unfortunately the baggage comes with the job," she reminds me gently. "Besides, it's not much easier sitting on my side of the booth. Sophomore year is rough. I just flunked my third bio exam -- which means Mr. Harding is going to call my dad -- I have a history term paper due next week that I haven't even started researching, and even though the Spring Fling is still two months away, I have absolutely zero date prospects."

  "Okay, when you put it that way..." I roll my eyes. Liz throws an oil-soaked napkin at me. I toss it back at her. "I'd still gladly sit in class and let you deal with Sky and Hollywood Nation for a few weeks."

  "You're a weirdo. You think school is fun." Liz makes a face. "Just say the word and I'll take your life. I could kick Sky's butt." She could too. In just a few months she's gotten pretty good at kickboxing.

  I laugh, but I wouldn't mind switching places with Liz for a little while. It would be nice to slow down. And seriously, how cool would it be to go to school every day? The way she's always described Clark Hall, it seems so normal. That's probably because it is. Liz's dad hated the idea of sending his daughter to a stuffy boarding school just because they had money, so he enrolled her in Clark Hall. Tucked away on a sprawling campus in nearby Santa Rosita, the private school is famous for having a highly decorated curriculum (which basically means there's a ton of honors classes, which Liz is in), and prides itself on its large percentage of scholarship students from all over Los Angeles. Liz complains about Clark a lot, but everything she mentions -- the boring pep rallies, the school dances, cafeteria turf wars -- sounds pretty enticing to me. "It would be nice to disappear for a while." I fantasize wistfully, and stare at a loud group of teens at a nearby table.

  "You know what you need? To pull a total Houdini." Liz digs into the garlic knots Antonio also left us. "Hide out somewhere no one would ever recognize you. Let's think of fun places you could go. Um ... Tahiti?"

  I don't laugh. She's right. I should pull a Houdini.

  "St. Bart's? We always wanted to go there." Liz is getting into the game. "Or Belize!"

  "What about Clark Hall?" I offer half-jokingly.

  "Yeah, right." She laughs, taking another bite of her garlic knot. "What -- as my show-and-tell project? Be serious."

  "You said I needed to pull a Houdini." A lightbulb goes off in my head. "Think about it. I do need to get away, and the truth is I can't go far. Rodney would have to come with me and he'd never leave Los Angeles during pilot season."(That's when the TV networks cast for upcoming shows, film an episode, and then pray their series will be picked up for the fall.)

  "Kates, I was kidding," Liz interrupts, but I'm too excited to stop.

  "I can't skip my schoolwork, right?" I exclaim. "Wherever I go I'd have to bring a tutor. Unless ... Unless I didn't need one because I was at Clark!"

  Liz's eyes widen nervously. "You can't be serious," she replies hoarsely.

  "I am serious." I tuck my feet under me and lean into the table. This is exactly the change I've been looking for. The thoughts begin to fly furiously. "I have to finish my school-work for the year anyway, right? So instead of working with Monique, I'd enroll in classes with you every day. Think about it, Lizzie! I'd be getting away from the tabloid crap for a while, which would be a vacation, and I'd get to hang with you. And actually go to class, like I always wanted. I think the experience would totally clear my head. I'd do my press stuff for Laney after class so she wouldn't freak out, which would make Mom and Dad happy, and ..."

  "You're babbling, but I get the point." Liz's eyes look like they're bulging out of her head. She takes another garlic knot. "It's just not realistic, Kaitlin. The paparazzi would have a field day with you." She waves her hands wildly as if to drive home her point. "Do you really want your every grade printed in US Weekly?"

  "Kaitlin Burke wouldn't exist if I hit Clark Hall. Laney would KILL me." I nervously bite my lower lip and think about tabloid pictures of me eating greasy french fries in the school cafeteria under the headline "Stars -- They're Pigs Just Like Us!" Laney would have a coronary. "I guess I'd have to go in disguise."

  "DISGUISE?" Liz's voice is so loud the teens at the next table look over. I pull my cap down lower. "I think you've watched one too many movies. This isn't like putting on a pair of glasses. Someone would recognize you. If that happens, you're finished. Sky would spin it that you're breaking your FA contract or something."

  "You're right, she would, if she found out." I cut her off. "But she's not going to find out, Lizzie. I have a hair designer, a makeup artist, a bodyguard, and a crazed personal assistant who guards my privacy as if it were her own. I'm sure we can come up with a killer disguise." I look at her hopefully. "You could help me!"

  "You're delusional." Liz shakes her head. "You're on a carb high from that extra slice of pizza. Tomorrow you'll come to your senses," she rationalizes. "This is a cool idea and all, but I was kidding about the Houdini thing. It would never work."

  I slide the pizza pan out of the way and grab Liz by both arms, trying to shake the stubbornness out of her. "If you helped me, it would," I try to coax her firmly. "You could be my guide at Clark Hall. Help me fit in, show me around."

  "I'm sure we wouldn't be in all of the same classes," she says wearily.

  "You're missing my point."

  "What? That you're committing career suicide?" Liz frowns. "Besides, your parents said you have to shoot a movie this summer."

  "I don't want to act this summer," I remind her, trying not to whine. "I want some time to think. School would be that real break I need from Sky and Hollywood. I need this, Liz. The press tour won't bother me so much if I have school as a distraction. And then when school is over, and my press stuff is done, I would be refreshed for the new season of FA. Maybe Sky wouldn't get to me so much if I didn't have to deal with her for a while."

  She rubs her temples. I think I'm giving her a migraine.

  "Liz?" I say quietly. "Say something."

  "Ugh ... FINE." She slams her hands down on the table, almost toppling my soda. "I think you're crazy, but I'll help you."

  I jump up and give her a huge hug, practically knocking her over. We both start laughing wildly, causing the people at the booths around us to stare.

  "Besides," I hear her muffled voice as I squeeze her tightly, "I'm the least of your problems. You've got to break the news to Laney and your parents first."

  Oh yeah. I forgot about that part. I let go of my best friend and nervously start biting my lower lip again.

  "You can do it." Liz changes her tune. "You've just got to find the right time and place to tell them."

  "You mean somewhere public where they can't kill me," I comment wryly
.

  "You know where you have to tell them then." She grins. "At your premiere."

  I look at her like she's crazy, but then I quickly realize she's right. The Off-Key premiere party will be loud, so reporters won't overhear us talking, and we'll be around people so Laney and my parents can't cause a big scene. I stare at Liz in awe. "You're brilliant, do you know that?"

  "I can't believe it took you so long to realize that yourself." She slides over the garlic knot basket. "Now take a knot to celebrate your first step towards independence."

  I grab the garlic-y dough out of the greasy basket and happily take a huge bite. For once, I don't worry about what Mom would think.

  Four: Sleepless w Hollywood

  After pizza, I call Mom and tell her I'm sleeping over at Liz's house. I am so excited that I want to get right to work on my "major downgrade," as Liz is referring to my makeunder. So far we've decided three things. I jot them down on my Sidekick:

  Saturday 2/21

  NOTES TO SELF ABOUT DISGUISE:

  1. Rubber masks rock (Perfect example: Robin Williamsin Mrs. Doubtfire). Sadly, they won't work 4 me. All that latex and glue would B horribly uncomfortable, not 2 mention 2 hard 2 rip off if I had 2 outrun the paparazzi.

  2. New threads and a big hat R not a good disguise. What I really need is a good wig, colored contact lenses, and a cool accent.

  3. The Rodney Issue. There is no way Mom and Dad will let me go 2 school solo, but if people catch sight of Rodney, I'm done 4.

  Liz thinks the presence of a large guy with bulging muscles who has to squeeze into the classroom doors sideways screams "bodyguard." I'm going to have to bribe Rodney to park nearby. That way he'll still be close by if I run into trouble.

  With FA wrapping this week, and the Off-Key premiere on Friday, I really have to get my plan in order if I want to get four months of school under my belt at Clark.

  But first things first -- I've got to get some more school supporters. I figure my best bets are Nadine and Rodney, so I'm telling them on the way to work this morning -- even if I am exhausted. On Monday we pulled another sixteen-hour day on FA. After getting to sleep at two AM, I had to turn around and be back at work today at nine. I'm commuting in my pj's. (Why get dressed when I'm going to have my hair, makeup, and clothes picked out for me anyway?) Is it any surprise then that I just fell asleep eating Froot Loops? My face landed in the plastic bowl with a splash!

  "It's no wonder you're a zombie," Nadine laughs lightly. She hands me a napkin to wipe my face. "I can't believe they had a sixteen-year-old shooting at midnight!" She shakes her head. "It's terrible. They couldn't have shot the car crash scene when the sun went down?"

  "They had to shut down the roads." I pull a stray Froot Loop out of my hair.

  "I told your mom we should check the child labor laws to make sure you can work that late, but she didn't want me to cause any trouble," Nadine comments dryly. "You know your mom, always looking out for your best interests."

  I'm just glad Mom wasn't there to see the Froot Loops incident. She would die if she knew I was eating a high-sugar cereal.

  "Speaking of my best interests, I've got something to run by you guys," I begin gingerly. I tell them both my plan and then nervously wait for their reaction.

  "So?" I finish up. "Will you help me?" I think this is the first time I've actually seen Nadine at a loss for words.

  "Why would you want to take on another persona?" she questions me, tapping her pen across her mammoth Kaitlin folder, aka her bible, with this seemingly very concerned expression on her face. "I just don't get you. Don't you think your brain is clogged enough with both Kaitlin and Sam in there?"

  "I'm an actress," I remind her. "That's what we're good at -- pretending to be someone else."

  "Yeah, well, you better be prepared to play the role of your life then, because if the press gets wind of this one, you're going to have to exit stage left immediately." Nadine's ears redden with worry. "I'm sure Laney already told you that dropping everything and going to school isn't the smartest move. Your fans will think you're tired of Hollywood and not interested in working. Not that you're just taking a vacation!"

  "I thought you, of all people, would be happy I was doing this," I reply innocently. "You're always saying I need a break."

  "Yeah, but I never thought you would take me seriously. Your mother is going to kill me when she hears about this." Nadine begins biting her already chewed-up nails. "Rodney, help me out here."

  Rodney hasn't said anything, come to think of it, but he is a man of few words. "I think it could be good for Kates to have a normal life," he finally responds.

  "Rodney, I love you!" I throw my arms over the front seat and around his large neck.

  "Careful, I'm driving!" He's holding on to the steering wheel with one hand and has an Egg McMuffin sandwich in the other. "I didn't say you could pull it off."

  "I will if you guys help me." I gaze at Nadine imploringly. She starts biting her nails again.

  "If I'm going to be in on this plan, it's going to require some serious prep work," Rodney muses thoughtfully. "I need to check out the school grounds, flag all the exits, survey the paparazzi situation."

  "There won't be any paparazzi. It's a regular school with no Hollywood drama. Doesn't it sound amazing?" I imagine my locker decorated with pictures of Chad Michael Murray.

  "You've lost your mind," Nadine states solemnly, "but at least you're finally standing up to your parents and making your own decisions."

  "I haven't told them yet," I mumble. "Or Laney." Nadine looks at me blankly.

  "Ohhhhh boy." Rodney whistles. "I want to be there when she tells her mom!" He turns around and looks at Nadine, and they both suddenly burst out laughing.

  "Come on, you guys. It won't be that bad." Their laughter only gets louder. Nadine actually leans back in her seat and grasps her chest.

  "I... can't... breathe ..." she spurts out. Rodney howls more.

  "Look, I was hoping you guys would help me. That's why I told you first. I was hoping we could role play the conversation."

  Nadine stops laughing and looks at me, baffled. "You mean you want me and Rodney to play your parents?" She and Rodney burst out laughing again. Nadine is heaving so hard, tears are rolling down her cheeks.

  "Guys, be serious!" I beg. I swear, sometimes I feel like I'm the parent here.

  "Okay, okay." Nadine calms down. "Let's try it." She straightens up in the seat and purses her lips. "Kaitlin, dear, I wish you'd wear your hair down more. It's so in."

  I give her a look. "Actually, Mom, there was something important I wanted to talk to you and Dad about."

  "Yes, Kates? What is it?" Rodney says in a higher voice that I guess is supposed to sound like my dad. He chuckles to himself, then takes another bite of his breakfast sandwich.

  "I'm on hiatus now, and my schedule is already jammed," I recite awkwardly. "I don't want to back out on my press commitments, but I..."

  "Good, honey, because that's what we expect you to do!" Nadine cuts me off. "Work, work, work! That's what Reese and Renée did at your age! You can't become a megastar if you don't work your butt off." Nadine is clearly enjoying her role.

  "Yeah, um, okay, Mom. But I really need a breather too. A break from the scene, you know? I was talking to Liz, and she was saying how great school is, and I thought to myself,'What a cool idea!' I could try something different and study at the same time."

  "Study? STUDY?" Rodney bellows. "Now why on earth would you want to do that? Actors don't need school!"

  Nadine is wide-eyed. "Studying is for ... studying is for ... well, regular people. We're famous, Kaitlin. We don't need to work hard."

  Rodney laughs at that. So does Nadine. I throw up my hands.

  "Forget it," I say, almost mad that I am laughing myself. "You two are enjoying this too much. I'll just wing it."

  An hour later (accident on the 101 again between a Porsche and a Lamborghini), we arrive at the studio. Nadine and I race to t
he hair and makeup room and find Sky sitting in the chair next to mine.

  "There you are, K," she sings when she sees me in the mirror. "I thought you were going to blow our call time and hold everything up. I've been here a half hour already." Raphael looks at me guiltily as he curls Sky's hair.

  "You know me, Skylar," I reply coolly. I take a seat in Paul's chair. "I'm always causing problems." I give Sky a wink and she purses her lips.

  "Now girls," Raphael interjects nervously (He's Sky's latest hair designer. She practically fires a new one every other week.). "It's too early to argue."

  "I don't recall asking your opinion, Raphael," Sky snaps.

  Paul whistles under his breath, and I suppress a giggle. Sky wouldn't admit this, but I think even she is too tired to have a full-blown argument this morning. For the next half hour the only sound I hear is Paul's and Raphael's styling tools. Paul's washed my hair in the sink and is now blow-drying it straight before putting it in rollers. He has to give me an updo for today's scene, which is Krystal's scandalous wedding. Sky and I are bridesmaids.

  There's a loud knock on our door and our executive producer, Tom Pullman, comes sweeping in. "Morning, lovelies!" Tom's always cheerful, even on three hours' sleep. He looks kind of like a well-fed hobbit with his five-foot frame and shiny bald head. "We're setting up the wedding chapel scene as we speak." Tom's walkie talkie is blaring orders from his waist. "STEVE, I'll be there in two!" he shouts at his Diesel jeans. "Girls, we're going to start off in the atrium today. Krystal will give you your bridesmaids' gifts. From there, Sam will get Krystal to spill the beans about the baby...."

  "Sam, Sam, it's always Sam who gets the great lines," I hear Sky mutter quietly.

  Tom must have overheard too because he stops talking and pulls his tortoise-shell frames off his nose to look at us both with fresh eyes. "Now girls, I want to remind you that we have visitors on set today," he orders sternly, ignoring Sky's comment. "Brian Bennett from Celeb Insider is coming to do a segment on the season finale."