How to be Famous

by Alison Bond

  she found the strong muscles of his thigh. She traced the tip of her nail upwards.

  ‘Fun,’ he said, his breath catching slightly.

  He stood up and was by her side in a moment. He pulled her to her feet and then, as she squealed in protest, her world tilting so that she saw the ground, he hoisted her over his shoulder like a fireman, stumbling a little as he straightened his legs, and staggered towards the house. Lynsey kicked her legs ineffectually. She caught sight of her arse in the wall-length mirrors and laughed at how ungainly she looked.

  He kicked open a door and threw her haphazardly onto a king-size bed drowning in yet more rose petals. She was laughing.

  ‘Romantic,’ she said. ‘Definitely romantic.’

  And he found that this way, with her easy laughter coming as fast as the kisses, he’d never found it as simple to say exactly what he wanted and to ask her what felt good. He found that her smiles were more erotic than the dramatic moans and groans of his usual blondes and her enthusiasm made him confident. He liked that she kept her eyes open. When things went wrong, a position that didn’t quite work or a change of rhythm that started with a bump, there was no need to try and cover it up. And when things did work and her smile went mega then so did his. And once he realized that he wasn’t the joke, that there really was no joke at all, and that she was just happy, he was happy too.

  What a shame she didn’t want anything serious.

  28

  Fabien Stewart went nuts when Melanie arrived home without their child. She’d never seen a fury like it. He didn’t hurt her, except with his words when he gave names to all the confused emotions she had been feeling. ‘You’re selfish,’ he’d said. You’re despicable.’ He was so wounded by her actions that for a whole week he refused to acknowledge her existence.

  His lack of sensitivity was brutal.

  ‘But you hardly ever see him!’ she’d protested.

  ‘No,’ he’d said. ‘I see him all the time, you’re the one that doesn’t seem to give a shit, so how the hell would you know? I got you so wrong.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘I thought you’d be a good mother.’

  That first night she’d cried herself to sleep, drenched in shame, but gradually, in the face of his obvious disgust, she grew defiant. He didn’t know what it was like for her. He didn’t have to go to Joseph in the night every time he cried. He hadn’t been exhausted to tears by sleepless nights and dirty clothes. Fabien hadn’t been there for the hard times when there was nothing obviously wrong with the baby and yet he wouldn’t stop crying unless she held him. A mother’s care was expected and therefore went unnoticed. Meanwhile, while Melanie was working off her pregnancy weight in the basement, Fabien would play with Joseph for a couple of hours and call himself a good father. That was the easy part.

  There wasn’t the pressure on male stars to be thin, to be beautiful. Fabien had an unwashed appeal that didn’t have a female equivalent. A few extra pounds was called presence, a five o’clock shadow and a bad-hair day meant manly allure. If Melanie showed up twenty pounds overweight with split ends she wouldn’t be congratulated for breaking the mould, she would be asked to go home until she could squeeze back into it.

  After a week of the silent treatment, she’d had enough.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what else to say. But I still think it was a good idea. I feel better, refreshed. I spoke to Amanda, and he’s fine. I wasn’t coping, Fabien.’

  ‘So you’re not sorry?’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘I don’t suppose I am.’

  She watched the struggle play out on his face. Fabien was a proud man but essentially kind. ‘Can’t you forgive me?’ she said.

  He sighed and shook his head in resignation, but there was a smile. ‘Come here,’ he said.

  She folded herself into his arms for a hug of reconciliation. ‘Let’s have him back,’ said Fabien. ‘We’ll get you more help, as much as you need. But I want him back. Deal?’

  She nodded in agreement. ‘I’ll make arrangements,’ she said.

  Neither of them moved and they stood there for a while, holding each other. After a moment she felt Fabien’s hands stray south, towards the swell of her hips, more sensual than comforting.

  His breath was in her hair. ‘You’ve such a sweet ass,’ he murmured.

  She pulled away.

  ‘Are you sure?’ he asked. ‘Just for old times?’

  ‘These are the new times,’ she said. ‘Don’t spoil it.’

  ‘Who’s spoiling it, babe?’ he said. His strong hands caressed her and she wondered how it would be to surrender, to let those hands go where they chose, to yield to his desire, however transient, and to feel something other than fear. Because she was afraid. She was afraid that fame and fortune were not satisfying her, that being a mother was not satisfying her, that something was missing and that maybe the love of a good man, this good man, was all she needed to relax.

  ‘I’m scared,’ she admitted.

  ‘Just sex, no pressure,’ he said. He could sense her weakening.

  ‘I mean I’m scared of everything,’ she said. ‘Of who I am. Of what I’m becoming. I thought this life was what I wanted but it’s turning out to be just as miserable as the old life but with fewer friends and a whole lot more stress.’

  ‘This life? What do you mean?’

  ‘Fame, motherhood, Hollywood, all of it.’ She warmed to her theme. ‘I look at you and think, yes, that’s how it’s supposed to be. A big house in the hills, a flash car, a different woman every night, glamorous parties. Then I look at myself and wonder how, between raising a child and working full-time, I’m supposed to find time for the good stuff.’

  ‘I think the child and the job are supposed to be the good stuff. The rest is just superficial.’

  ‘I want it all.’

  ‘You have it all,’ said Fabien. ‘What you choose to do with it is up to you.’

  ‘No,’ she said; he wasn’t getting it. ‘This is Hollywood, I’m supposed to be having the time of my life.’

  ‘Maybe you just need to get laid,’ said Fabien.

  He moved away from her, sensing that this wasn’t going to happen. ‘Is this about Davey?’ he asked on impulse.

  ‘What?’ she snapped. ‘No!’

  She was determined not to think about Davey any more. It would be positively masochistic to see him again. Like buying a Ferrari when you didn’t have a driver’s licence. She felt a stab of anger. Davey had no right to lead her on. He was playing with her. He was making her feel like a fool.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she said. ‘This isn’t about Davey.’

  He didn’t believe her but he genuinely wanted to help.

  ‘I’ve forgotten who I am,’ she said. ‘I’m a mother, a television star and, according to the papers, a class-A bitch. A couple of years ago I was none of these things, I was just a girl trying to make a living doing what she loved to do. God, Fabien, I just want to have some fun, stretch my boundaries, try new things, find myself again.’ She stopped mid-flow and sighed. ‘I sound so, like, California.’

  ‘Be careful what you say to me, stretching boundaries is my speciality.’

  ‘I mean it.’

  ‘What do you want?’ he asked.

  ‘I want to go to a wild Hollywood party and drink champagne and feel gorgeous and glamorous and… rock and roll. I don’t care if that sounds superficial. I want to feel famous and fabulous and – and free.’

  A wicked thought came into Fabien’s mind. If she wanted adventure he knew just the place. ‘Okay,’ he said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Let’s go out tomorrow night, just you and me. Los Angeles is the greatest city on earth.’ ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘Please, for me? I want to go to a party and it’s couples only,’ said Fabien.

  ‘And here was me thinking that you were just being nice. Why do you want to go to a party where there will be no single women?’
she asked.

  ‘You’ll see. Come on, it’s pretty exclusive, really smart, totally Hollywood, you’ll love it,’ insisted Fabien.

  ‘Will there be loads of press?’ said Melanie. ‘I don’t know if I can deal with that.’

  ‘None whatsoever, that’s a guarantee. I told you, it’s exclusive,’ said Fabien.

  ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ said Fabien, trying to decide how many details he should reveal before they walked into one of the most select and secretive annual events in the Hollywood calendar.

  She was wearing exactly the right outfit and Fabien was impressed. He had a discerning eye for women’s fashion and admired the way the bold Missoni dress showed off the flare of her hips and her endless legs. The more he thought about it, the more he thought tonight was one of the greatest of his many great ideas.

  He refused to tell Melanie any details about the party, other than to say that she was very unlikely to meet anyone she already knew, and that was fine by her. Melanie felt unusually light-hearted as they twisted their way out of the city towards Anaheim.

  ‘So are you going to tell me where we’re going?’

  ‘It’s a party.’

  ‘So you told me,’ said Melanie. ‘Whose?’

  ‘Old friends. They get together every year and I haven’t been for a while,’ said Fabien.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Couples only, I told you. I can’t just turn up with a first date and, as you know, I’m not known for getting a second. Hopefully my friends, like the rest of the world, will think you and I are madly in love,’ said Fabien.

  ‘What kind of a party is couples only?’ asked Melanie. ‘Wait a second. God, I’m so stupid! This is a sex party?’

  ‘Would that be a problem?’ said Fabien, looking across for her reaction.

  ‘Well, yes,’ Melanie answered automatically.

  She should have known that something like this would happen. Fabien wasn’t taking her out to cheer her up; he was taking her out so that he could get laid. She couldn’t imagine what sort of friends he was taking her to meet or why he thought she would be cool with it. ‘Oh Fabien, turn the car around.’

  ‘Why? You said you were ready for new experiences,’ said Fabien.

  He made no move to stop the car and took a sharp left into a residential area. The houses were painted pretty pastel colours, they were all of uniform shape with identical porches and most flew the American flag. A few moody teenagers were hanging around on one corner, eyeing up the car as they passed. Melanie could smell their cigarettes.

  ‘By new experiences I meant a trip to Mexico maybe, not an invitation to an orgy,’ said Melanie.

  ‘It’s not an orgy,’ said Fabien and Melanie gave him a look of utter contempt. ‘Okay, there’s a certain sexual element but if I hadn’t told you then you probably wouldn’t notice. It’s all very discreet. Come on, try and broaden your mind.’

  ‘How exactly will banging whichever lucky guy picks out your keys broaden my mind?’

  ‘Things have moved on since the seventies. This will just be your average cocktail party. Except that from time to time people will retire to a private room,’ said Fabien.

  ‘And when they come back they’ve got big smiles on their faces?’ asked Melanie.

  ‘Yes, what’s wrong with that? If you see someone you like then you can take it further, if you don’t nobody will force you. There won’t be any repercussions or unwanted attention because everyone there is in a committed relationship.’

  ‘You have to be kidding? Committed?’ said Melanie.

  ‘They go home with each other at the end of the night, which is more than can be said for a hell of a lot of couples. They probably have great sex, too.’

  ‘I’m the mother of your child!’

  ‘So? You’re still a woman. Come on, Melanie, don’t be scared.’

  ‘I’m not scared,’ said Melanie, surprised that she was even considering it. She couldn’t deny it had a sort of devilishly glamorous appeal. Dangerous and exciting, from another more decadent era, like something from the sort of life she had previously only read about.

  ‘If I don’t like it,’ she said, ‘can we leave?’

  ‘Whenever you say,’ promised Fabien.

  ‘Okay,’ said Melanie.

  ‘Okay?’

  ‘Yeah. I can’t believe I’m doing this but, okay. Can we stop for a drink first?’ asked Melanie; a shot of something strong might prepare her for what promised to be an exceptionally unusual evening.

  ‘Too late, we’re already here.’

  The entrance hall to the rather nondescript wooden house was cloaked in shadow. The man who took their coats was silent. Fabien had to show his driver’s licence at the door. Melanie was trying to get her head round the entire concept. The idea that through this innocuous door lay the kind of bacchanal free-for-all that she’d only ever glimpsed on the occasional porn film was at once ridiculous, terrifying and more than a little sexy.

  Fabien loved this house. He also loved the Duponts, the couple who lived here. He was telling the truth when he said that he hadn’t been to one of their parties for years but he saw both of them from time to time at other social occasions. Amy and Milton had been together for fifteen years and were the most secure couple that Fabien knew. He had slept with them both.

  Melanie hid her nerves well. She was reluctant to lose face in front of Fabien and give him an excuse to make one of his frequent comments about the uptight English.

  Fabien led the way as they descended a spiral staircase that opened out into a huge room filled with people. Melanie’s eyes darted from side to side looking for the unusual, but everything seemed perfectly ordinary.

  People were scattered in groups around the room and there was an amiable buzz of conversation. There was an odd mix of dress, with some people wearing black tie and others looking as if they had come straight from the beach. The party looked informal and friendly. She spotted a bar and made a beeline for it.

  ‘You see?’ said Fabien after Melanie had ordered a martini. ‘There’s nothing here to be afraid of

  ‘I know,’ said Melanie. ‘So, come on, tell me. Anyone here catching your eye?’

  Now that she had stepped into this crazy world, like Alice, Melanie was determined to have an adventure, no matter how surreal the experience. She finished her martini quickly and motioned to the bar tender to fix another.

  ‘Take it easy,’ said Fabien playfully. ‘God, you’re insatiable.’

  ‘I thought that’s what we were here for.’

  ‘We’re here to enjoy the company.’

  Across the room a tall, well-built man with a blond ponytail broke off from his group and made his way over to them. He greeted Fabien warmly and Melanie waited for an introduction.

  ‘This is my friend,’ said Fabien, and Melanie wasn’t sure which one of them he was talking to. She listened as their conversation went on and noticed that they never used each other’s names. Before the man left to rejoin his group he turned to Melanie with a smile and looked her up and down. No worse than she had encountered at other parties but he didn’t even try to hide his blatant appraisal.

  ‘So it’s all anonymous here?’ asked Melanie. ‘Kinkier and kinkier.’

  ‘It’s supposed to be,’ said Fabien, ‘but it’s difficult because you may know people from elsewhere. Some wear masks.’

  Melanie looked around but couldn’t see any such people.

  ‘They’re probably next door,’ he said.

  ‘Ooh, what’s next door?’ said Melanie. The two swift martinis had given her just the confidence shot she needed and she was looking forward to her night as a voyeur. She had already decided that she would only watch and Fabien said that no one would mind, in fact most people would probably get off on it.

  ‘Are you sure you’re ready? It gets a bit more severe than this.’

  ‘I should hope so too,’ said Melanie and drained her glass.
>
  Fabien held her hand as they walked through a set of double doors leading into a wide corridor, which in turn led to a second set of doors. Just before he opened them Fabien turned to her. ‘I should have brought a mask for you,’ he said.

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘You’re a recognizable face.’

  ‘So are you,’ said Melanie.

  ‘It’s all completely confidential. If anyone ever went to the press I can’t imagine what the rest of the crowd would do to him. There’s enough power in this room to make sure that anyone who broke ranks would never work again in this city, maybe even in this country.’

  ‘Then that’s fine,’ she said, although it sounded preposterous. ‘Lead on.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Fabien and pushed open the next door.

  With hindsight Melanie realized that she had been expecting a similar scene to the one next door, an innocent cocktail party or a more relaxed version of the same. Instead she faced a group of around a dozen men and women, some of whom were indeed wearing masks. Two of the women were topless and one of the men was naked.

  Nobody turned to look as they walked in, their eyes and most of their hands were firmly fastened to the woman hanging from the ceiling.

  Melanie’s first instinct was to turn and run, she felt as if she had invaded something very private, but curiosity got the better of her.

  The woman hanging from the ceiling was covered from head to toe in tight back leather. There was a hole in the leather between her legs and two more where her breasts poked proudly through. Her hair was also free, a long mane of burning red that looked as if it might be a wig. Her hands were bound together with twine and tied to huge butcher’s hooks in the ceiling, as were each of her legs so that people could stand in between them. She was suspended, face down, around five feet off the floor, at eye level for most of the men, though Melanie noticed that some of the women were on tiptoes to get a better look.

  Melanie could only stare dumbly at the spectacle. She hardly noticed Fabien leave her side to wander around the woman. He slapped her on the ass and another man briefly took one of her breasts in his mouth. The woman emitted a low groan of pleasure, which made the crowd groan in response.