Dazzled

by Jane Harvey-Berrick

  “And what size is your friend?”

  “Fu… I mean, I’m not really sure… uh, a British size 14 I’d guess. I don’t know what that is in American…” I glanced desperately at Honey.

  “Ten to 12,” she whispered.

  “Yeah, um, ten to 12.”

  “I see. Yes, well, it’s rather short notice for such an unusually large sizing, but I’m sure Miss Da Silva can accommodate your request. There’s an Alexander McQueen that might do?”

  “Yeah, whatever you think. Just not yellow – she’ll look like Big Bird.”

  Oh, shit! I’d spoken without connecting my mouth to my brain. Thankfully, Wendy just coughed to cover up her laughter.

  “Of course, Mr. Stephens. Not yellow.”

  “Great, thanks. Um, do I need to come and pick it up or…?”

  Honey rolled her eyes at me.

  “No, Mr. Stephens,” Wendy answered, patiently. “We’ll send it with a couple of alternatives. Do you need one of our dressers, too? If you could let me know the name of your friend’s hotel?”

  “No, I mean, she’s staying at my place. I can help her dress. I mean, um…”

  There was a long pause and I cringed, realizing how that sounded. But Wendy was too professional to comment.

  When we finished, I handed the phone back to Honey and dropped my head into my hands.

  “I really suck at this.”

  She patted my shoulder sympathetically.

  “It gets easier, Miles, but this brand of crazy isn’t for everyone.”

  The dresses had arrived and were currently lying on the bed in the guestroom. I really hoped they were the right size and that Clare liked at least one of them. They looked alright to me. My favorite was a dark blue shiny number, with slits up the side. Clare’s legs would look good in that.

  Lilia didn’t agree.

  “You can put a bow on a pig and call it Mary, but at the end of the day it’s still a pig.”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Although I could make a damn good guess.

  “Miles, I know she’s your friend but the truth is she’s fat. Whatever you put her in, she’ll look fat.”

  “She’s not fat, she’s… curvy. Anyway, I don’t give a damn, she’s my friend.”

  “You care more about her than you do about me.”

  “For fuck’s sake! I just want her to enjoy the premiere! You were the one who said she needed to look the part.”

  “You have no concept of how this makes me look!” she ranted.

  “It’s all about the look with you, Lilia! Why do you even care what other people think?”

  “God! You’re so naïve! This is business. Everything is business. The image is business. Am I getting through to you? Do you even understand what I’m saying?”

  “I’m not stupid.”

  “Well, you’re sure acting like you are.”

  “What, you think it’s stupid for me to care more about my friends than what some anonymous stranger thinks? You need to sort out your fucking priorities, Lilia.”

  “Oh, you have no idea, do you?!”

  We went a few more rounds after that, her yelling and hurling insults, me shouting back, and then we ended up fucking against the wall.

  Clare

  Holy shit! The flash of camera lights was nearly blinding! My heart was pounding in my chest and the noise felt like a physical assault – I half expected my eardrums to bleed. I could feel the pulsating energy of the crowd through every pore of my body. It was raw and uncontrolled and it scared the shit out of me. I glanced at the car doors to make sure they were locked and took a deep breath. Then my eyes darted upwards as twin beams of searchlights crisscrossed the night sky, reminding me of War films showing the London Blitz.

  “How you doin’, Miss Clare?”

  Earl’s drawl was deep with concern, but soothing at the same time.

  “Just hyperventilating quietly,” I choked. “Don’t mind me.”

  He nodded and concentrated on following the slow moving line of limousines down West Sunset Boulevard, all heading toward the Cinerama Drome and the Dazzled premiere.

  Somewhere in the traffic arcing out behind, Miles was traveling with Lilia. As they were the stars, they’d arrive last. Then, of course, they’d be spending time doing the whole red carpet thing, whereas I would be dropped off around the back somewhere. At one time that might have sounded kind of insulting, but I was glad a thousand times over that I didn’t have to face the phalanx of surging fans. The police barricades barely restrained them, and I realized for the first time – I mean really understood – what Laura Dorien had said all those months ago about Miles being the new It Guy.

  Thousands upon thousands of screaming girls were roaring at every car that passed them, posters and photographs of Miles and Lilia clutched in their hands, their mouths open in rabid Os, the shrieks and yells all blending together into one choking, blinding wall of noise.

  I’d seen it a million times on TV, but experiencing it from this side – it was utterly terrifying. Walls made from flesh, staring eyes, open mouths, and a million starbursts flashing from handheld cameras.

  As we neared the red carpet, the volume increased exponentially and the SUV seemed to shudder in sympathy. If we’d broken down there, I think that would have been the end of us. The phrase ‘angry horde’, so familiar from my history studies, actually meant something to me now. Thank God I hadn’t drunk the whole bottle of champagne that Miles and I had opened before we’d left his apartment that evening, otherwise I’d have peed myself from fear. I’d have needed a canoe to paddle out of there.

  The barricades and silk ropes flanking the red carpet were awfully flimsy. If the crowd surged, the police and security wouldn’t be able to stop it.

  My throat was dry and aching, my palms and armpits inexplicably sweaty. I tugged nervously at the beautiful blue dress Miles had arranged for me to wear. Touching the satiny material grounded me a little. I wanted to be beautiful tonight – okay so that was pushing it, but I wanted to look good, at least not like a complete scrubber. So I would try. I’d wear the heels, tolerate the makeup, and refuse to yank at the curls piled up on my head. Surprising myself, I looked okay. Mind you, that was the result of several hours work from the makeup artists that Miles had hired to do an Eliza Doolittle on me. Now if only I could remember to keep my traitorous gob firmly shut, otherwise I risked telling Lilia that she was a two-faced trollop with the personality of my grandmother’s sideboard.

  Passing the red carpet, I saw several Hollywood celebrities talking to fans, or rather, trying to hear and be heard above the viscous screams. A few were signing autographs. Lilia had told Miles that lots of stars turned out for these shindigs – some were supporting friends in the business, or as a favor, but others were just dolled up because their agent wanted them to be seen in the spotlight.

  I was past being surprised by those sort of stunts now. Pretty much.

  Miles

  As we inched our way toward the Cinerama Drome, a line of black limousines in front of us, I caught a glimpse of the red carpet stretching out like a lolling tongue. Lilia grabbed my hand, her eyes glistening with excitement.

  “Feel how fast my heart is beating,” she gasped.

  I didn’t know if she meant me to grope her boob, or whether she just wanted to share her rush of adrenalin.

  “You look so beautiful,” I whispered into her neck. “It’s hard to believe you’re real.”

  She turned and stared at me, her glossed lips a tantalizing inch from mine.

  “Why do you say such lovely things?” she said, and her voice sounded sad. “Why are you so nice to me?”

  I didn’t understand. “You’re my girlfriend. Why wouldn’t I be nice to you?”

  She shook her head as if shaking off an unhappy thought. I wanted to ask her about it but didn’t get the chance.

  “Want a blow job?” she said, running her hands up my leg.

  It took my brain a second to catc
h up, and I was sure my eyes bulged.

  “What? Here and now? Hell, yes!”

  She laughed. “I thought you’d say that. Too late – we’re here. Game face on.”

  “Can I take a raincheck on the blow job?” I pleaded.

  I thought she was going to answer but then the door to the limo was jerked open and I winced from the shock of noise. I was going to be deaf after this. I climbed out, smiled as instructed, even though it felt like I had to glue my lips into position. Then I leaned down and held my hand out to Lilia.

  The camera flashes were blinding. I knew from experience that I was going to look stoned in the photographs. My pupils shrank to pinpoints and I tried very hard not to screw my eyes shut.

  Lilia blinked a few times but otherwise seemed unfazed. Her hand rested lightly on my arm, and I wanted to grip onto her to protect her.

  I was aware that the close protection squad that Rhonda had spoken about were following us, literally watching our backs.

  We posed for photographs together, and then Rhonda’s team split us up to answer questions from the six or seven selected TV crews.

  I tried to remember Gayl’s lessons: use their names; treat every question like it’s the first time you’ve heard it; don’t go off the reservation; keep foot out of mouth.

  It seemed to go on forever.

  Question 1: Are you and Lilia dating?

  Answer 1: We’re friends. It was great working on Dazzled with her. She’s such an amazing actress.

  Question 2: Where did you get your suit?

  Answer 2: It’s a Tom Ford. Pretty spiffy, isn’t it!

  Question 3: Is there going to be a sequel?

  Answer 3: You’ll have to ask Laura Dorien.

  And on and on. Keep smiling. Keep talking. Keep calm and carry on.

  Rhonda’s staff closed down anyone who went over their allotted time, or anyone who pushed on the ‘relationship’ question.

  It felt weird signing autographs. My brain was bleeding from the noise, and it was impossible to talk to anyone. So I just smiled, and pretended it was another role, which it was in a way. These people didn’t know me – they just had a one-dimensional idea of me based on a book they’d read, and a TV trailer. It was so bizarre.

  I felt Lilia’s arm slide into mine and I couldn’t help smiling down at her. As soon as she touched me, there was an increase in the decibels and the sky glowed from the number of camera flashes.

  After a few more smiles and waves, she tugged at my arm and we walked inside to the relative peace of the cinema.

  Thank fuck for that.

  I felt exhausted and shaky as the adrenalin leached out of me. Even Lilia wasn’t quite her cool, calm and collected self.

  Jo-Anne Moody came barreling over, a glass of champagne in each hand.

  “Hey, guys! Wasn’t that a rush? Whoa, my nerves are screaming. How y’all doin’? I was just speaking to Laura Dorien and even she hadn’t seen anything like it!”

  Jo-Anne handed us each a glass, and I took a much needed gulp, shaking my head slowly.

  “Un-fucking-believable. Is it always like that?”

  Lilia nodded. “Yeah, that was something else.” She looked up at me, still looking slightly dazed. “I’ve done 12 of these before and I’ve never heard it like that. Wow!”

  She licked her lips and I couldn’t help leaning down to kiss them, they looked so damn juicy.

  She smiled, but I could tell she was irritated, and that smudging her lipstick was off the menu.

  I saw Clare out of the corner of my eye. She was standing with Polly and Mildred and, damn, if she didn’t look hot in that dress! I knew her legs would look great. She saw me and raised her glass, blowing a kiss at the same time.

  I was so glad she was there.

  Clare

  Miles had looked drop-dead gorgeous, standing in his apartment in his made-to-measure tux. But seeing him on the red carpet, I realized he looked like he belonged there. It tore my heart a little more, because I knew he was slipping away from me – away from the world I lived in.

  We didn’t get the chance to talk either. Miles was completely monopolized all evening, the studio execs commandeering his attention, and Rhonda was busy introducing him to people. Important ones, I presumed.

  I watched him from a distance while I chatted casually to members of the crew who’d been invited, which was most of them.

  Lilia didn’t come near me, although I caught her looking at me once. I smiled and raised my glass, but the miserable mare just sneered and turned her back. God, she was unbearable.

  After more aimless talk, and drinking more champagne than was wise, we were ushered into the theater.

  Miles was sitting at the front with Lilia on one side and Jo-Anne on the other. I was several rows back, sitting directly behind Merv, which meant I had to lean sideways to get a decent view.

  I knew Miles had been to a screening and muttered something about it being “not too bad”, but I’d never seen it all the way through.

  I was utterly swept away. Seeing Miles’ beautiful face in extreme close-up, twenty feet high, completely rendered me speechless, mute, thunderstruck, dumbstruck and wordless. Also slightly damp in the nether regions, if I was being honest.

  And Lilia, damn her eyes, she was such a good actress. Why did she have to be such a first class megabitch as well?

  I could see the real Miles sitting with his head hanging down. That didn’t surprise me – I knew he wouldn’t be able to look at himself. I saw Jo-Anne turn and whisper something to him and he shook his head, easing himself out of his seat and leaving by the nearest exit.

  I counted to ten, then followed him.

  I guessed he’d gone to the back of the building and wasn’t surprised to see him standing by one of the fire doors that he’d propped open. Thank God he hadn’t set off an alarm – that would have been embarrassing.

  When I found him, his eyes were closed, although his face was tilted upwards, and he was taking deep breaths.

  He opened his eyes and saw me.

  “Bet you wish you hadn’t given up smoking now, doncha?”

  He smiled back at me. “God, yes. I think I’d kill for a cigarette.”

  I rooted around in my small bag. “Have a mint instead.”

  “Tease,” he muttered.

  “Says you, Mr. Movie Star. You looked good on screen,” I said, honestly.

  He shook his head. “It was fucking excruciating watching myself. I just couldn’t. I know I’m being a whiny pussy, but that shit is just so embarrassing.”

  “Miles, you love acting, you know you do.”

  “Yeah, but it’s the process – you know, getting into character, understanding… no, feeling the character. The rest is all just… this. It’s not… You know?”

  My heart stuttered as I listened to him struggle to express himself. Why wasn’t his girlfriend out here helping him with this? I was glad she wasn’t, but she’d been through it – if anyone understood, surely she would?

  He gave me a small smile. “Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. I’ve just got to grow a pair and get my ass back in there.”

  You have no idea what I’m thinking about your arse.

  I just smiled and winked at him.

  He surprised me by leaning down and letting a kiss whisper across my cheek.

  “Thanks for being here, Clare. Love you, babe.”

  We made our way back to the theater and Miles went ahead first. I waited 30 seconds, then followed him. As I edged back to my seat, I saw Lilia’s head tilt in my direction, and it felt like she was watching me out of the corner of her eye. Ugh, creep much?!

  An hour later when the house lights came up, applause rang out. I studied the faces of people around me, and their adulation seemed genuine and unforced. Jo-Anne stood up and took a bow, grinning happily as the audience called out to her and cheered. I could see her bend down, presumably trying to persuade Lilia and Miles to share in the moment. Miles stood up first, and offered hi
s hand to Lilia. She took it, smiling up at him.

  God, it made me want to vomit. She smiled like a prom princess who’d never been kissed – if such a thing existed – when I really knew that she was a double hard bitch who chewed on iron bars and shat nails.

  In my opinion. Of course.

  Her white dress was stunning and she looked graceful, ethereal, with a beauty that matched Miles’ – who was clearly not of this earth.

  They looked great together, and the thought was acid in my brain.

  My plan of action was to get mind-numbingly slaughtered, drinking myself to oblivion, and then pass out in the guest room of Miles’ apartment.

  He’d been vague on the details of where he’d be staying that night. I didn’t ask.

  The after-screening party was held at the Chateau Marmont. It was a bit weird seeing a place that looked like it belonged on the French Riviera, and its whitewashed walls gleamed from small spotlights positioned along the sides.

  The paparazzi were out in numbers, looking for more candid shots than the rather formal and posed ones on the red carpet.

  There was a fierce scrimmage as the limo with Miles and Lilia arrived. It was scary to see how viciously the paps elbowed each other, all hoping that theirs would be the money shot. I resented their intrusion, but it looked like a bloody hard way to earn a living. I could only assume that if they caught something scandalous enough, the rewards were great.

  What a fucked-up world.

  Polly patted my knee as I slumped down at a small table with her, Mildred, Leon, and Merv the Perv, who was sitting with a petite, black haired woman whom he clearly adored.

  “Looks like you’re my date for the night, Pol,” I sighed.

  She sniggered. “You are looking super hot tonight, Clare, baby, but you’re still not my type.”

  I downed a glass of tequila that someone had thoughtfully placed near my right hand.

  “I don’t seem to be anyone’s type,” I complained.

  “Aw, feeling a bit neglected?”

  “If I don’t get some action soon, my vagina will grow cobwebs.”

  Merv spat out a mouthful of wine and his wife/girlfriend/significant other looked shocked.

  Polly laughed and Mildred looked at me sympathetically.