by Carla Hanna
“What your agent and studio did not know, was that Martin simultaneously set you up as a producer of the Left to Die project and prepared your paperwork to seek emancipation for a child actor, which you were allowed to apply for at fourteen years old in California.
“You met the requirements to become emancipated: need for personal gain, maturity to handle adult responsibilities, and financial independence.
“Martin submitted your request for emancipation to the courts and you received the Declaration of Emancipation when Left to Die was in the editing room, before the project was complete. Since you were fourteen and would be emancipated before Left to Die hit theaters, Martin was sure that SAG could not come after us for filming that scene with a minor.”
“Okay, so how does that affect me now? How does it affect Muse?” I asked, wanting to both know and not know the answer. It was a good news/bad news worry. How far trapped was I? Was I a fly in a black widow’s web?
“The producers are Richard, myself, Ira, and you. You have your own production company, Marie Michael Productions, a mini-studio. That’s how it’s done with stars. I have my own production company, too. It’s a lot better than being tied to a movie studio. Trust me, I was so tightly bound to the ‘Rose’ projects, I had no choice but to do the TV series.” She paused, waiting to see if she needed to say more. Mom only tells what is necessary, never more. Being in this business for so long has made her guarded, even with family.
“How come I wasn’t listed as a producer on the credits?”
“You didn’t need to be, except in the Hollywood accounting. But don’t worry about that, dear. I promise you that none of us are cheating you out of anything. Like the rest of us, you get gross points, a percentage of gross revenue, rather than net profit participation. Based on each producer’s percentage of ownership in the project, we share in the production, distribution, and marketing overhead. Rather than billing your birthday party to just your share of the marketing overhead, we essentially all pay for it.”
“I didn’t know that I paid for my own party. I thought the studio did. Now I see. Interesting. I guess I’m a businesswoman,” I laughed.
“Yes, you’re very talented, dear.”
“So I screw all of you, my family, if I quit Muse. Mom, this really sucks.”
“I know, dear. And, I won’t lie to you. There’s more. You’re bound by the production contracts you have with us. But we’ll talk about it when I get home. We all want this to work out, and we all love you,” Mom said sincerely.
I sighed. Of course there was more. There was always more.
“Marie, we just want you to focus on school and relaxing for now. Go shopping. Buy some new shoes or something.”
I laughed, picturing myself buying my one-thousandth pair of shoes. Mom loved shoes. Every time she got mad at Dad when they were married, she would storm out of the house, go to Fred Segal on Broadway and 5th in Santa Monica, and come home happier with a new pair of shoes or a bag. The departments were separated into little nooks, as if you were strolling on a curved path in a quaint little street market. The staff was aloof. Mom could find all the brands she liked, banter the help, and no one would stare. It was private.
“No, Mom. No shopping today. Yuck!”
“Oh, Marie. Some day you will see what you’re missing! I want to go shopping now. I can’t wait to get back!”
“Well, thanks for explaining. We’ll talk about ‘Muse’ after graduation. I really need to eat and study some more.”
“Wait, what happened with Manny?”
“We’re good. But I realized that I can’t live without him.” I took a big breath. “I worry that I’ll lose him if I don’t sleep with him.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Mom, Renee told me how it goes. I loved Evan and lost him because I didn’t show him. I love Manny with all my heart. If I don’t do it, he won’t think I love him.”
“Oh, no, dear. Be true to yourself, please. Manny understands. I’m sure of it.”
“I hope you’re right. Otherwise I’ll do what I have to do. Love you, Mom.”
“Stay strong, Marie. I love you to pieces. Goodnight.”
I reached out of the hot tub and pressed “end” on my cell. I turned to reach for my towel but was startled to find a large black spider on it. I bravely shook the spider off, careful to see where it had fallen to be sure it would not crawl on me.
Of course, I could not help but think that I was very much the struggling fly trapped in the black widow’s web. I only then realized how incessant that web was. This was a web that could only collapse on itself if I broke it.
~ DENSE ~
I put down my history book when I heard the front door open and then close.
“There weren’t any photographers here when I got off work this morning,” Manuel wondered. “I was all ready to punch someone.”
I beamed as he crawled on the bed next to me. I was in my sweats, he was in his busboy uniform, shoes off, of course. It was after midnight.
“Well, they want photos of us together. So there will be many cameras this morning when we leave for school. I canceled with Elise for today because I need to get some sleep. I can’t deal with the pain of physical exertion after such a tough weekend. Maybe we should take your Vespa, helmet free. Give the fans what they want.” I laughed.
Turning to my side to make sure he paid attention, I added. “And please, please don’t punch, push, flip off, cuss out, or even speak to a photographer. You’ll make things worse and can seriously get sued.”
He understood. “I promise to restrain myself. I can do this because you are more than worth it.”
He kissed my forehead and then quickly kissed my lips. He was off the bed in an instant. He headed for the bathroom and I followed to the closet and changed into my pajamas. I had already brushed my teeth so I got into bed, happy that he’d be staying the night.
He settled onto his pillow and held my hand. “Do you mind if we go to sleep right now? I’m exhausted. I didn’t sleep at all Friday night or last night.”
“Sorry last night was tough.”
“Don’t be. I got a tattoo just now when you flashed that smile of yours. It will get easier to be so close to you in bed.”
“Good night,” I sighed and reached over to turn off the light. “Love you.”
“Hmm. I have to say my prayers.” Manuel put his hand around my waist. He mumbled and then said, “Amen,” kissed my cheek and then settled into his pillow. “Love you, too, Marie. Buenos sueños.”
I laid there for several minutes before I fell asleep thinking about how grateful I was that Manuel was in my life. I wondered if his prayers made a difference. I didn’t understand why he needed them. My mother thought that she had failed me by not nurturing my spirituality. I wasn’t so sure I had a unique spirituality. I just didn’t want to be naughty and didn’t want to hurt people. I had so much money that I felt better donating it than buying superficial things with it. That wasn’t really a spiritual value, it was a compassionate one.
I woke up the next morning feeling great. I was so happy. I took a moment to assess how my body felt. I had a slight headache, nothing intense. My vision was clear. Then I realized I didn’t feel nauseous.
Manuel asked, “Why are you smiling?”
I turned to him, overjoyed. “I’m glad you’re awake. I can’t believe it. I don’t feel like puking, and I can see you!”
“What?”
“You know, my vision takes a while to clear but it’s clear already and my headache isn’t so bad. I actually want to eat something.”
“Well, great!” Manuel lifted me out of bed. “Let’s fatten you up!”
We got ready for school after breakfast. I gave Manuel a garage door opener to keep in his backpack so he could enter through the garage and avoid harassment. Mom had settled the PR disaster and we were free to be a public couple while Richard’s team worked with my publicist on the strategy for the Constantine’s Muse prom
otion.
“Alan is going to tease you. You know every pic off the internet will be taped to your locker. You ready, Manuel?”
“You’re so worried about me, Marie. For the last four years of me being your best friend, you go through hell and back all by yourself while I’m in my little protected world. For like three months straight, I whined and cried over Kate. I must have texted you every day about some girl I dated, trauma or heartache. You spent all that time responding to my panicked emails and then my anger and confusion. I’m sorry I was so dense.”
He put the milk and what was left of the fruit back in the fridge and started loading the dishwasher. I had a housecleaner who came every weekday to do that.
“Marie, even when you were leaning on me for help, I was listening to you but didn’t have any idea about what you were talking about. I was not really supporting you or being there for you because I had no concept of the heavy crap you really deal with. I knew you had seen more than I had; people doing stuff… but seeing it firsthand just now with Byron, some guy who, ya know, and then right there in front of us, with his sick “let’s share you” attitude. And the way Byron doesn’t shut up.”
He followed me to my room.
He continued, “I watched your reaction to him. You’re strong with him with your words but so weak in your expressions. I really thought you wanted to try when I saw you blush but then you said there was not a chance. Your face showed total sadness. You never show that look to me. Then I realized that you had to put yourself back together after Evan, Matthew, and Byron.”
He stopped me at my bedroom door and embraced me. “Now I get it. I’m not as strong as you for sure. But I can handle Alan, and can handle being in public with you.” He added, “I hope you get out of this business soon.”
I closed my eyes, letting my body relax into him. I explained, “I won’t be able to stop acting for many years and now it’s not so bad. Now I will choose to work with nice, professional men. I will be in control of the films and events I do. Besides, I am never going to have a normal life. People will always stare at me…recognize me. Do you know people still recognize Tom? It’s been, what, nineteen years since his last film! He signs autographs!”
“Yeah, that’s wild. My dad signed an autograph a few months ago, too. People still recognize him.”
“What?” I didn’t know Carlos did anything except work at a delivery company. He met Liz delivering a package to her apartment nineteen years ago. I stepped back from Manuel and gaped at him inquisitively.
“You didn’t know? How could that be? We’ve known you forever!” Manuel laughed. “My dad was in a Latino boy band. He was a teenaged heartthrob. He was huge!”
“What band?” I was shocked but then not. Carlos was a head-turner. It always seemed that people recognized him but I thought it was because he was gorgeous and I thought they recognized me. Liz and Manuel hated attention. They lived in that apartment. I thought it was Liz who would get money when she sold the apartment building. I didn’t know Carlos had money.
“El Ritmo. He was CB A.me.go. He worked on their first three of seven, maybe eight, albums.”
“No way! I’ve heard their early songs. Everyone has. Wow. But you guys don’t act rich. Why do you live in the apartment? He must get a ton from his royalties. Doesn’t the band get a take every time the song is played on the radio or on a TV spot?”
“No, he doesn’t get royalties. He quit. He didn’t like the lifestyle or people telling him what to do. He saw the same crap you’ve seen. His managers really exhausted them. He was like an employee of the El Ritmo product. When he quit, he got nada. He kept the money he already had but was not entitled to any more. He wasn’t part of a union like you are with SAG. He quit after they performed in L.A to promote their third album. They replaced him immediately. They just left him here and kept touring. Ira Goldberg took him in, wanted him to act. But he wanted out of the entertainment industry. Ira was nice; helped him legally get settled in Santa Monica. He took the delivery job to be busy. He likes to work. He was living with some chick when he saw my mom again.”
“What do you mean, ‘saw your mom again’? I thought they met the day they conceived you.”
He laughed. “No! Well, they did hook up the first day they met but I came a few years later.” He kept laughing. “My mom was a set designer and met Carlos on his first music video. Ira produced all of the music videos; that’s how my dad knew him. Mom was actually in three of the videos from their first three albums and worked on all the videos. They were pretty good friends and dated a lot since my mom spoke Spanish. They got their first tattoos together. Mom didn’t know what happened to him after he quit. When he delivered a package to her apartment, she told him she missed him and was in love with him. He felt the same way and then they conceived me.”
“Whoa. I had no idea that your dad was CB A.me.go. That’s a sweet story.” I laughed because I did think Liz was sleazy before I heard the story. “No wonder Carlos and my dad found each other. They had much in common. No wonder you think my career is awful.”
As we walked to the kitchen, I realized that I needed to change myself and ask more questions about people. Not knowing about Sage or Manuel was pathetic. No wonder Beth thought I was shallow. I needed to start knowing.
“Actually, I’d like to go to the industry events with you when you need a date. I won’t say ‘no’ anymore, like I’ve done for the past year. I don’t want you to be alone anymore, not just here in the house, but also at events. I’m really here for you now.”
“Hmm. Now that would be nice. I wouldn’t have to go to an event with a co-star. Cool,” I said. “So the Vespa or the Prius?”
“The Vespa,” he confirmed, and we headed out the door.
~ THE CURE ~
Even though finals were the next week, I had the best two weeks of my life. I was so happy. Mom’s film was to wrap in less than two weeks and she would get back the day before graduation.
Manuel stayed every night and took off work that week to study. I still worked out with Elise in the mornings so I didn’t get up with him. It was Saturday, the last day of the month, so we slept in together.
He was in the bathroom and I was going back to bed, thinking of what fun thing we would do that day. I wanted to go somewhere since we had been trapped in the house studying. He wanted to see his family and thought we should all go to the Santa Monica Pier and boardwalk but Liz didn’t like strangers staring at me and recognizing Carlos.
Manuel finished in the bathroom and came back to bed. “Ya know I’ve only been with Kate, and we were both virgins. Did she cheat on me?”
I turned my face away from his so he couldn’t see my reaction to his comment. I promised Kate that I wouldn’t tell him that she actually wasn’t a virgin. Her first experience was worse than my Matthew scare when she was fifteen but she ended up dating her prick for a year until she had enough. She thought dating Manuel was a gift from God, a fresh start.
I answered, “No, she didn’t cheat on you. She loved you.” I looked at him again, “Manuel, what are you talking about?”
“I still think she cheated. There was just no way she could have been pregnant. But, I don’t want to talk about that. Did you think I went wild after the break-up when I dated all those girls?”
“I knew you didn’t. I think I know everything about your relationships. Alan made a point to tell me every detail.”
Manuel dated a ton of girls from when Kate dumped him until he asked me to prom. He kissed them all, too, in search of something. It made me insanely jealous, and I counted. He kissed sixteen different girls in less than three months. Before he came down to my trailer in San Diego I assumed he slept with some of them, but he told me he only kissed them. He let a few go too far, but felt bad about how he treated them, even though they were sleazy girls that Alan set him up with. I never asked him what he was searching for. But I was curious.
Manuel faced me on his side and pushed my hair off of my cheek
and neck. He smiled at me and whispered, “You do know everything.”
I put my hand over his tattoo so I wouldn’t have to see Kate’s name.
“I’m curious,” he stated with a smirk. “Why are you on the pill? You clearly don’t have a period since there’s no stuff in your bathroom and you’ve never complained of PMS. Since you were on birth control, you must have thought you were gonna do it with Byron.”
“I did not.” I smiled at him but he still stared at me wanting an explanation. “I’m not on birth control. I have polycystic ovarian syndrome and the medicine I’m on stopped my menstrual cycle. I haven’t had a period for years.” I stopped, thinking. The last time I remembered taking my medicine was the last week of filming Constantine’s Muse.
“Damn!” I exclaimed and ran to my bathroom. I forgot to take my medication. I was so stressed that I completely spaced it. I realized that I better clue in my frightened boyfriend.
“It’s my condition. I totally spaced my medicine! Please help me search my things for two prescription bottles of medicine. My assistant would have packed them with my things the night I left San Diego.”
We were both opening every bag in my closet and every drawer in the bathroom. I checked my room. Nothing.
“I bet he missed the stuff in the medicine cabinet. Help me think. How can I get a refill? I usually call the RX number on the bottles.”
“Call the doctor,” he replied simply.
“It’s Dr. Mark. I don’t know his last name, that’s also on the bottles.”
“How long have you been taking the medicine?”
“Years. I’m supposed to take it for managing the cysts that grow too large in my ovaries, so they don’t burst. When I get low, I just call the phone number on the bottles, key in the RX numbers and confirm my credit card and address. Then I get the new prescription bottles in the mail a week later.”
He added, “Your mom knows the doctor’s name, right? Just call her.”
I dialed her number. Her cell was off and went straight into voicemail. “I know they are behind schedule. They’re probably working today.”
