Hollywood Sins

by N. K. Smith

  It sort of sucks to have something wrong with my brain, but I’m trying to look at everything in a positive light nowadays. At least I know what’s going on. At least now I can identify triggers and be a step ahead of it all. Maybe I’ll be able to feel the depression coming on and get help sooner.

  I’m not depressed right now, but that doesn’t mean I can stop paying attention. It’s something I’ll always have to be aware of, just like my addictions. It’s not going to go away, but now that I know about it, it won’t rule my life.

  ***

  Liliana finally returned from England where she was shooting a period piece. I’ve been trying to get some time alone with her to help solidify our friendship again. We had a few days of hanging out with Peter or some of her other friends before she left to film, but I’ve wanted to just have a day for us like we used to.

  “And I said ‘It’s not like anyone’s going to see what under the dress’, and Harvey was all like, ‘To be authentic’ blah blah blah.”

  I give her a polite chuckle as she continues to describe how the director of the film forced her to wear the undergarments of a nineteenth century noble lady. I’m not sure I can stand much more chatter about it though, so I interject.

  “So was it hard to get the accent?”

  Lili inspects her fingernails as the polish dries, then turns to me. “No. I had a dialect coach on the set,” she says in a proper English accent.

  “That’s pretty good. I can’t wait to see—”

  “What sucked was the way Harvey kept asking me to act. I mean, I get that it’s a whole other time period and whatever, but honestly, do we really think women swayed and glided all over the room all the time? Does the world think these women never slouched when they were alone in a room?”

  The woman who is rubbing my legs looks like she wants to say something, but she doesn’t. If I had to guess it would be something about how annoying Liliana’s being complaining about her experience of starring in a Harvey Wingate film. Everyone knows he makes the best period films and that they go on to either win awards or be staples of film classes, if not both.

  “Well, I think they probably did, but I’m sure Harvey wanted to protect the perception of the characters. I mean, if the audience thinks they’re just ladies with fancy dresses but are really just like modern day women, would they—”

  “Yeah, I know. I get it. I guess I’m just tired, you know? It was a long shoot, and who knows how the hell he’ll edit it.” Liliana drops her jaw and widens her eyes as if something major is taking place. “Oh, did I tell you? I went to this London night club and met Alexander Ward!”

  I try to look suitably impressed. “He’s the hottest English—”

  “Welsh,” Lili says. “He’s very sensitive about that. He’s from Wales and wants everyone to know it. Anyway, he and I are going to go out when he comes over here.”

  “Oh? When is that?”

  “Not for another couple of months, but it’ll be fantastic when he’s here. I mean, just think about the press we’ll both get. We can have a trans-Atlantic love affair. He’ll do wonders for my image over there, and I think I can get him some decent exposure over here.”

  All she’s talking about is exposure and press. That’s not real. I know she’s always been sort of swept away by all that stuff, but somewhere inside of Liliana is a real person—someone who wants to connect with people in some other way than arranged relationships meant to propel careers and drive box office sales. “Do you even like him?”

  Lili shoots me a steely glare and licks her lips as if she’s ready to tear into me. “You’re always judging me.”

  “No. I mean, yeah, sometimes, but all you’re talking about is what you guys can get from each other. Do you like him? Do you want to go out with him?”

  Lili faces forward, and I’m stuck looking at her profile. Her jaw is tight and her body is tense. “It’s not like I have someone like Peter tripping over himself to be an honest and real boyfriend, you know? People don’t see me as the girlfriend type. I’m a means to an end, and I—”

  “You don’t have to be.” This is the first time in a long time that Liliana has ever come right out and said anything so sincere and deep. I’ve always thought she was calculating when shaping her image, especially when it came to relationships, but now I can see that she’s felt she had to be that way. “I understand what you did to get some recognition and success,” I say in reference to the contracted fake relationship that turned real with Devon Maddox. “But it doesn’t have to continue. If you like Alexander Ward, go out with him, but it doesn’t have to be in front of the camera. Not everything needs to be a show. You’ve already won awards and—”

  “Not an Oscar.” The way she says it seems like a jab at me.

  I stay calm because sometimes building a friendship takes patience. “Not yet, but you will. Everyone knows you’re talented, so don’t you think it’s time to give real life the same importance you give your image?”

  Liliana pulls her feet away from the woman painting her toenails. “You don’t know anything, Adra. Just because you’ve gotten lost in real life,” she says with air quotes, “doesn’t mean you know everything all of the sudden.”

  Reaching over, I place my hand on her forearm and encourage her to stay seated. “No, I don’t know everything, but the thing about getting lost means that you find your way back both to reality and yourself. I just hate to see you giving higher priority to your celebrity status than your happiness.”

  As she settles back down into her chair and allows the woman to continue with her nails, Lili sticks her nose in the air. “I don’t—”

  “You do. I know you do. I can see you’re not entirely happy, and I just want you to be.”

  I think Lili’s either going to tell me again that she’s fine and happy, or yell at me, but as she takes a deep breath and lets it out in this oddly measured way, something within her relaxes. “Fine. I do want to go out with Alexander. I mean, he’s hot and kind, but I don’t think there’s a future. Not just with him but with anyone. Every time I’m going to like someone, it’s going to be covered like crazy, and it’s going to influence the relationship just like it always does. I’m just trying to control it so it doesn’t control me.”

  “I understand. Well, I guess not completely since I haven’t been in your shoes, but I understand enough to the need to control it.” It’s funny that I’ve been jealous of her for how she manipulates her world, and yet, all this time, she’s struggled with the same things I have.

  “Let’s not talk about it anymore, okay? What about you? Beyond Peter being very into you, what’s up in your life?”

  “Well, I’m sort of glad you asked because I have a project for all three of us—you, me, and Peter.” I don’t know why, but the idea of asking her makes me a bit nervous. I clear my throat. “So I wrote a screenplay.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I’ve got a producer and backing, and it’s like a continuation of the movies we were in when we were kids. I mean, not really because the characters aren’t all the same and the whole circumstance is different, but it’s like sort of a what if type of thing.”

  “What if what?”

  “What if my character and Peter’s characters’ personalities were swapped? Like he was the wounded one, and I was the—”

  “So what about my character?”

  “Well, I couldn’t figure out how to make that character be a part of it.”

  Lili shakes her head, rolls her eyes, and lets out a sigh. “So why are you saying it’s a project for us if I don’t factor into it? What? Do you just need more money for it, or are you—”

  “Just shut up for once, Lili. I want you to play the lead female against Peter’s leading man.”

  She stops fidgeting and gives me her complete attention. “So I get to play the noble character? I get to play the woman who saves him from . . . from whatever he needs saving from?”

  “Yes.” I love how her face brig
htens when I say it.

  “And what will you do, beyond, you know, what you’ve already done by writing it?”

  “I’m going to direct it.”

  Her eyes widen. “What? You’re going all actor/director on me? You really are determined to outdo me, aren’t you?”

  I grab her hand and hold it just the way we used to when we were kids and not jealous starlets. “No. I just want to find the thing that suits me, that feeds me, that gives me purpose and—”

  “Oh, stop it,” she says, but I can tell that she’s not holding on to any envy or anger. “I was only joking. I don’t want to direct anyway. Too much stress and not enough press coverage.” She laughs to let me know she’s poking fun at herself. “But with Peter’s new interest in his art and you writing and directing now, I guess I’ll have to find a hobby and cultivate it just to keep up with the two of you.”

  I laugh with her for a second. “So will you do it? Or at least consider it? I brought a copy of the script for you to—”

  “Send it to my agent. You know I don’t accept unsolicited—”

  “Shut up!” We both laugh again.

  “Does this script have kissing in it? Are you okay with me lip-smackin’ your man? Because I’ve been told I’m an excellent—”

  “You’re a brat. That’s what you are.” For the first time in a long time, everything between us is comfortable.

  Lili goes back to looking at the fresh paint on her toenails. “Sure, I’ll read it. It might be fun to relive those carefree times of our youth.”

  I tighten my grip on her hand but then groan when I look at our hands.

  “What?”

  “I’ve screwed up your polish.”

  She looks at our joined hands. “Whatever. I didn’t like the color anyway.”

  Chapter 66

  Everything’s going according to plan. Peter and Lili have signed on to my film. I’m thrilled, excited, and scared as shit! The other day I nearly had a panic attack, but I just remembered what my doctor told me. I focused on my breathing and pushed the overwhelming thoughts to the back of my mind until I could deal with them. Then, I when I thought about what created the anxiety, I chunked it up, analyzed it and then it wasn’t so terrifying.

  It doesn’t matter if this film is a success or not. I’m not making it because I want to be a huge hit. I already am. I’m making this so I can grow and be better than I was the day before. I’m making this film to try something new. And, let’s face it, I’m not going to screw it up.

  Shooting starts in a month!

  ***

  I run a manicured fingernail over the edge of my lip and make sure the lipstick is perfect. Smoothing back my hair in the front, I look at the sides and back in the mirror. Curly perfection. My cheekbones stand out, but not as much as when I rarely ate. The picture of health stares back at me, and I know I’m ready for this.

  I follow a young man over to a comfortable chair, and when I’m settled, Ronnie Reynolds strides over to me. Her appearance forces me to stand up and accept a hug. “How are you, darling?”

  Unlike other reporters and journalists, every word Ronnie speaks comes with a certain amount of believable sincerity. I think she does care how I am.

  “I’m well, thank you.”

  She pulls away and gets comfortable in the chair opposite mine. When we’re both seated with our microphones in place, she coughs, drinks a sip of water, and then flashes me her charming smile. “So you know how this goes, but I have to say the same things to every guest. This will be a straightforward interview. If at any time I ask a question you’re uncomfortable answering, just say so and we’ll move on. We have plenty of time to edit, so don’t worry about any flubs, just start over. And if you need a break, just let me know.”

  I nod, and then nod again when she asks, “Ready?”

  A cameraman counts her in and her smile grows wider as she looks directly into the camera behind me. “Good evening, and welcome to our hour long, in-depth interview with Adra Willows, one of America’s leading actresses, documentarians, philanthropists, and now directors.”

  She turns her focus to me. “Welcome, Adra.”

  “Thanks for having me.”

  “So, it’s been a big couple of years for you. First you saw some great success with an action film, you were scrutinized for your turn as a stripper, you won a major award for your portrayal of a girl with physical disabilities, you started a well-publicized relationship with your childhood costar and friend Peter Truelove, and then something happened to halt your forward momentum. Can you take us to that place and tell us what happened?”

  I lick my lips and resist the urge to fiddle with my hair. I may be nervous, but I’m in control here. “Well, I’ll try. It’s one of the more difficult places to recount. I was on a lot of drugs. My longtime mentor, Elsie, passed away, and I was struggling with who I was supposed to be, not only in this business but in the world. I didn’t quite know who Adra was, if you will. I turned to chemical confidence and let who I was, or more accurately, who I pretended be, take control of my life.”

  Ronnie presses her lips together and draws her eyebrows in. “So that’s an interesting word. Control. You know when I sit back and look at your career, your actions, your reactions, I see a young woman who struggles with that concept of control. What do you think about that?”

  Ever since booking the interview, I’ve been worried about the questions Ronnie was going to throw at me, and I could very easily be rattled by having to explain my thoughts about control and my struggles with it, but I take a deep breath and remind myself that part of the reason I wanted to do this interview was to express things I haven’t before, at least not to the world at large. “I think it’s pretty accurate. I mean, I think anyone growing up in this industry is going to have some kind of relationship—either good or bad—with control in general. I am not ashamed to admit that in my struggle for freedom from the control of my parents, I allowed myself to be controlled by others.”

  “Who are these others?”

  “Pretty much everyone who had a say in who I was. Elsie for the most part. She controlled what scripts I read. She controlled what films I took on and the terms of the contracts. She persuaded me to do some films I wouldn’t normally have wanted to do.”

  “Like which ones?”

  “I’m not comfortable pointing out individual movies, however, I felt very uncomfortable continually doing films where I had to go topless or be a certain size to play the role.” I run my fingers through the ends of my hair as if it needed fixing. I’ve come a long way, but my nerves always seem to show when the topic of nudity or body image comes up. “I’m not a big girl by any means, but I felt pressured both by Elsie and some other influential Hollywood players to be thinner than I was. I felt the need to limit my calories and up my workouts.”

  “You look very good now, though. In good health.”

  I beam and no longer worry about if I look nervous. “Thank you. I’ve been focusing on my nutrition and exercise not to get thin or stay thin, but to maintain my health.”

  “That’s great. It seems as though you’ve taken a low point in your life—namely the drugs and dieting—and turned them into something powerful. You’ve produced a film that highlights the struggles of our gender around the world and turned that into an organization that can funnel money to smaller charities most in need.”

  While the compliment feels good, I take a deep breath to keep the pride in check. Feeling good about something I accomplished is fine, but having too much pride may lead to relapses. “I did that with the help of Natalie Diaz. She’s the co-creator of all that and without her, it wouldn’t be possible.”

  “So do you mind if we talk about your rock bottom, so to speak.”

  “Go ahead.” I place a hand on my stomach as if that will settle my rising nerves. This is the first time I’ve talked so publicly about it.

  “What kinds of drugs were you into?”

  “All of them. Cocaine mostly,
but I liked any of them that took me out of my usual mental state.”

  “It was reported that you’d gone to New York City. There were a few photos of a woman who looked a lot like you roaming around the street in dirty clothes and—well, here, we have a picture.” She shows me a photo of myself, looking absolutely terrible somewhere in New York I don’t remember being, and I know it’ll be onscreen when the interview airs. “Is this you?”

  “Yes.”

  “You are one of the most talented performers of your generation, how did you get to that point in your life?”

  I sigh and look away from her as I think. “I don’t know. I wasn’t a solid person and there were a lot of people giving me bad advice and a few people giving me great advice, and I made some poor decisions.”

  “So do you blame your parents? Your friends? Hollywood?”

  “No. The blame rests squarely on my shoulders. If you look around this industry, the pressures are the same for everyone; I just buckled under it while others stood strong. If you look at my two closest friends, Liliana and Peter, you’ll see two kids who grew up in the same environment as I did, but they’ve used the pressure to catapult them to whole other level.”

  “But they also had some very trusted adults to help guide them. You on the other hand . . .”

  I toy with the idea of talking about mental illness, but now is not the time and I’m uncomfortable with sharing that piece of me so soon. “It’s true, I didn’t have my parents like they had theirs, but at this point in my life, I’m tired of talking about how that’s shaped me. I realize that I could’ve been a different kid and not pushed my parents out, but I thought they were using me.”

  “Have you reconciled with them?”

  “No. I’ve talked to my father on the phone, and we’ve sent a few things back and forth in the mail, but I’ve not been in the same room with him. I don’t think my mother is ready to deal with her share of the responsibility, and I’ll be honest, neither am I. I’ve been sober for a good chunk of time, and when I feel like I’ve got a grasp on how to handle painful stuff from the past without wanting to use, I’ll confront that piece of my life. Until then, I wish them the best and hope they’re well.” There is more I could say, but I still don’t feel comfortable talking about them for too long.