by India Lee
IAN MARSH’S SECOND FILM A DISGRACEFUL DUD
Filmmaker releases ‘artistic’ sex tape with girlfriend Desiree Silver
Indie Grind
February 9
Well this is certainly a whole new take on “viral” video.
Ian Marsh’s sophomore effort in filmmaking debuted this afternoon, and it appears the young artist is venturing into the porn industry – or something like it. Marsh’s second film is a seedy twenty-three minutes of obscure close-ups and out-of-focus medium shots filled with a chorus of moaning, groaning and grunting. To be completely honest, even the porn industry would reject this flop of a film. You don’t really see anything, but judging from Desiree Silver and Marsh’s disturbing sex sounds, you kind of don’t want to anyway.
So how did the promising young artist go so wrong after the genius of his first video? Plain and simple, it was too long, too pretentious, and following a legend like Casey Mulreed with a failed actress like Silver is never a good move. Not to mention, a glorified sex tape is just about the weakest attempt at art and innovation that we’ve ever seen.
It’s too bad. You had potential, Ian Marsh. You’ve got the looks of James Dean and you’re probably a good kid, but it’s time to sober up and realize that having burned all your A-list bridges, you’re going back to nowhere fast.
A television playing CNN in one of the airport restaurants flashed the image of Ian and Desiree above the text: Too Much Too Soon? An overnight star’s humiliating crash and burn. Amanda tried not to stare at the screen for too long, knowing well that everyone else in the airport was staring at her.
“Come on,” Liam said quietly, putting his hand under her chin to turn her face back to him. “Just ignore it. You’re going to L.A, you can’t worry about him now if you want to.”
“I feel guilty,” Amanda murmured. After watching the film – or rather, watching the first grunt-filled minute before fast forwarding to the end – she had stalked the Internet to see what everyone was saying about Ian. In the past few weeks, she’d worried about him but had been fine knowing that a pack of crazy stans was lingering in every comment section to defend him. Now she was afraid that even they had turned on him for making the fatal mistake of trying too hard. It wouldn’t be a surprise considering the horrible Top Tweets she spotted on Twitter.
They were posted by familiar faces – Ian’s supposed friends, The Edgy Kids, those stupid, pretentious stylists and cinematographers who had been riding his coattails for the past few weeks, getting into every club VIP because of Ian. Now they were lambasting him, making fun of him, posting the most vile and malicious comments about him – all for the sake of retweets and the hope of their own fifteen minutes.
Ian thought the best way to win back his ex-gf Natalie Bell was a sex tape. Total waste since no one believes he dated her in the first place.
Really impressed with Ian’s shitty film – didn’t think he could last 23 min in bed! Des told me he’s a one-minute man.
edited out of the video: ian secretly drunk dialing Natalie while doing des from behind. he srsly drunk dials her every nite ppl!! STALKERRR!
It wasn’t hard to guess that The Edgy Kids no longer counted Ian as a friend. Amanda wondered who was looking after him now and making sure he didn’t do anything to get himself killed. She hoped that Desiree Silver had stuck around – since breaking up with a wholesome pop singer at sixteen, she had dated only bad boys and was known for loving train-wrecks, or at least the attention they came with. Hopefully she would take care of Ian until Amanda got back to New York.
Though Amanda continued to fret throughout the six-hour plane ride, emailing Ian a plea to contact her while imagining the various scenarios in which he could send himself to the hospital, she thankfully found peace upon landing. After making their way through some paparazzi, Amanda and Liam hopped into their car and cruised out to the palm tree-lined roads. She momentarily forgot about Ian as she asked herself if it was really the first time she had seen a palm tree in real life.
Once they arrived at the Chateau Marmont on Sunset Boulevard, Amanda was all smiles. The hotel looked to her like some sort of tropical cathedral. She wished she weren’t too tired to kick off her ankle boots, put on a pair of sandals, and just run around exploring. She’d gotten a fresh pedicure and the crisp California air was such a perfect change from New York’s winter weather. She could make the same comparison of her mood – twenty-five hundred miles later, she’d transformed from completely agitated to bright and sunny.
“Here you are, Mr. Brody, your premier one-bedroom is ready for you,” the desk clerk said with a smile as he handed over the room key. Liam turned to Amanda with his lips curled up as they headed for the elevators.
“My publicist booked a one-bedroom,” he said.
“Okay?”
“How do you feel about that?”
Amanda rolled her eyes. “Fine, since I get the bed.”
“Okay,” he agreed. “But so do I.” She laughed.
“We’ll see.”
Despite the bantering, it was nothing but yawning by the time they reached the bedroom. They both headed straight for the plush mattress, collapsing onto it and kicking off their shoes at the same time.
“Are you tired?” Liam asked, rolling over to face her.
“Mm-hm.” She tried to wriggle out of her cardigan. He held onto her sleeve for her as she tugged her arm out. “Are you?”
“Yeah.” Amanda watched him as he pulled off his sweater. She wondered if he planned on sleeping in his T-shirt but then he pulled that off too, leaving himself down to only jeans. He peered up. “Can I take my pants off?” he asked with a crooked little smile.
“You may.”
He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. Amanda closed her eyes as he did so – not because she was shy, but because she was truly tired. She cracked an eye open to peer at her luggage all the way across the big room. Yeah, no, she decided, spurning the idea of pajamas and reaching for the top of her own jeans. She glanced at Liam, who was already under the sheets with his eyes shut, though they fluttered open at the sound of her zipper pulling down. He raised an eyebrow at her. She yawned and raised one back at him as she slid her pants past her hips and thighs, arching her back to push them far down enough so they could be kicked the rest of the way off. Liam remained silent as he watched her, his eyes tired though his lips wore a little grin. They shared a look for a bit longer before Amanda tugged her camisole over her boy shorts and popped under the covers.
“Goodnight,” she said plainly, turning to her side and facing away from Liam. She could feel his eyes on her back for several silent seconds before he let out a low laugh.
“Get over here,” he said, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her into his body. Amanda smiled and let herself nestle back against his chest. She rested her head under his chin and closed her eyes once she felt his legs tuck behind hers. And with their fingers intertwined, they fell asleep.
~
heard you’re in town hot mama.
With only six words, Casey’s text managed to make Amanda nervous, though it was really just the last two that made her chew on her lip. Hot mama. Amanda assumed the nickname was a nod towards the fact that Casey planned on forcing something romantic to happen with Dylan tonight. She hoped she was being irrational, but she suspected she wasn’t. She proved herself right when after several minutes without responding, her phone vibrated again. She prayed that it was Ian finally returning her concerned messages, but once again, it was Casey.
hope you have a sexy dress for tonight ;)
Amanda ignored the text and went to unpack her dress from her luggage. The loud salesgirl had actually picked something perfect, perhaps because she followed Amanda’s fashion choices so closely and knew exactly what her preferences were. The lavender chiffon dress reached the floor – which was good because her tan heels from Loehmann’s didn’t quite match – and boasted diagonal tiers of delicate lace from the waist down. As usual, o
n top, the neckline was high and left everything to the imagination. It was classy and what Amanda preferred.
With Liam gone since the morning to conduct interviews, Amanda was stuck alone at the hotel, which was no problem whatsoever. She had a peaceful lunch alone on the terrace, taking Liam’s iPad with her and telling herself that she would try to write, though of course, she didn’t. As she sipped her mimosa under the shade of an umbrella, she thought about how she had woken up that morning. It started out rudely, with the grating sound of a beeping alarm. Amanda had been sure it was somewhere around five in the morning considering what a deep slumber she was in, but it was actually ten. She had forgotten where she was until she felt Liam rustling behind her. His arms were still around her, his hand on top of hers. His warm breath tickled the back of her neck before he rumbled, “I don’t want to get up.”
“Then don’t.”
“I have to.” He squeezed Amanda’s hip before flopping onto his back. She followed suit and watched him get out of bed. Only then did she realize that last night, he had gotten under the covers before she’d seen his underwear. The navy blue boxer briefs were a new sight, and one to behold. Her eyes followed his unclothed body until it was out of sight and in the bathroom. She fell back asleep afterwards and wondered if she’d made up the memory of Liam ruffling her hair and pecking her forehead on his way out.
“Another mimosa for you, Miss Nathan?” the waitress asked, picking up her empty glass from the stem.
“Yes, please,” she smiled. Once the waitress stepped away however, Amanda’s smile faded at the sight of the girl standing behind her. “Casey!” She blinked.
Casey laughed at her reaction as she took a seat at the table. “Hello, dolly doll. A little bird told me you were sitting in the garden.”
Amanda slipped her phone into her pocket in case Casey asked why she’d ignored her texts. That way she could pretend she’d left it behind somewhere. “What little bird?” she asked.
“Jamie. She passed by. We’re staying here too, silly girl.”
Amanda blinked. “Oh. Of course. And congratulations, by the way, on the nomination.”
“Thanks,” Casey said. She grinned mischievously, plucking away Amanda’s mimosa when it arrived. “You know who’s presenting that category right?” She sipped. Amanda heaved a sigh but smiled to make it look like a playful one.
“I think I can guess,” she said. Of course Dylan was presenting Best Actress. Casey was a lock to win and award shows just loved for actors to announce the good news to their co-stars.
Casey ran her tongue over her lips. “You know Place, where the after party is this year? Chaise lounges in every bathroom.”
She wasn’t even trying to be subtle. Amanda still tried to pretend otherwise. “So I can take a nap after a particularly grueling pee?” she joked. Ah fuck, bad joke. She wiped her sweaty hands onto her pants.
“Uh, no. You know what I mean,” Casey said, taking a long swig of the mimosa. Amanda could feel the diners around them staring at her, wondering why she was allowing Casey to drink. Amanda reached for the glass and took it away.
“Casey… can I ask you a question?” she said cautiously. “I’m just wondering… why is this so important to you? Me and Dylan. Getting me to cheat on Liam. Like, why is that… something you need to make happen.” Amanda let out a big breath once she was done with her fragmented sentence. She hoped that she was simply paranoid, that Casey wasn’t trying to force her to experience her own share of career-damaging headlines by facilitating some sort of scandal with Dylan. Casey couldn’t possibly be so bitter, right? It wasn’t as if Ian’s film had ruined her career – not even close. America still loved her to death, they were just worried about her.
“I wouldn’t call it important,” Casey smirked. She looked like a little doll in her canary shift dress. “I just think it would just be fun to see you sweat.” An evil little doll.
Amanda swallowed. Of course it was just a game to her – a game that made Amanda legitimately nervous because despite how much she cared about Liam, Dylan Hardy had that stupid effect on her. He made women swoon – like actually fall-on-the-floor swoon. Amanda sighed again, but through flared nostrils this time. I should’ve listened to him, she thought. Liam had had several warnings about Casey. She wished she could remember them now.
“Anyway, I heard about our old friend’s little sex tape,” Casey said, snapping a flower off a plant and tucking it in her hair. “Aren’t you glad he ruined his own career so I didn’t have to? I really hope he isn’t like, depressed and overdosing in a hotel somewhere,” she giggled. The word “overdosing” made Amanda’s stomach wrench. She had tried not to panic over the fact that he hadn’t responded to her worried calls, texts, and emails, but it was hard not to at the suggestion of an overdose. Her teeth ground at the sight of Casey’s pleasure and she pounded the rest of her mimosa before responding.
“Yeah, it was a stupid video, but he’s at rock bottom and he just needs a talk with someone who actually cares about him and isn’t trying to leech off his fame. He was a partier before all of it happened, so it was bound to get worse once people were inviting him to every club and offering him a bunch of free drugs,” Amanda retorted. The words had just spilled out. She wasn’t even sure if the last part was true – she was sure Ian could afford a mountain of any drug he wished for anyway – but Casey didn’t refute it. She simply brought her legs up and rested her chin on her knees. The pose made her appear calm and sweet despite the words that actually came out of her mouth.
“Don’t make excuses for him, he deserves everything he gets,” she said. “And trust me, he’s not even close to rock bottom yet.”
~
To Amanda’s relief, she and Liam were seated for the awards at a table across the room from Casey’s. Casey and the cast of What Was Left were front and center for her Best Actress nomination and the film’s Best Picture nod. From afar, Amanda was able to spot Dylan and absorb how gorgeous he looked so she wouldn’t swoon or act like a total freak around him later. He was wearing a sleek black suit and black tie with his gelled hair reminiscent of the 1950’s. He was adorable to watch even from a few hundred feet away, politely standing every time someone approached to greet and introduce him to a friend, which was pretty much every one-and-a-half minutes.
“My goodness, it’s truly amazing to be standing before so much talent tonight,” said the barely B-list comedian, Kevin Heald, the show’s host for the evening. He began his monologue with the usual weak cracks about skinny actresses, Hollywood diets and valets mix-ups before getting into the portion that focused on goading nominees. “Dylan Hardy is here tonight,” he said as the massive screen behind him showed Dylan already nervously chuckling. Amanda giggled. “What a gentleman, this guy. Sadly, Dylan is not nominated for his role in the Best Picture nominee, What Was Left, in which he plays Casey Mulreed’s fellow substance addict.” The audience clapped at the mention of the film. “Which is a real shame for Dylan, because between the two of them, he was the one who was actually acting.”
The room paused for a moment. Aside from one or two cackles, there was a collective murmur of disapproval. The screen showed a still and expressionless Casey among her stone-faced table.
“Too soon?” Kevin grimaced at himself. “I apologize, that was totally classless. Really. Listen, Casey, I’m actually a huge fan and I’d like to be here for you if you want to talk it out or share your innermost thoughts and darkest secrets. Just give me one second...” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a camcorder, flipping it open and pointing it at her. “Okay, go ahead and spill.”
More laughs now, though they quickly muffled with guilt. Wow. They really just referenced Ian in the monologue, Amanda thought. The big screen showed a half second of Casey’s downcast eyes before switching to an audience member who laughed ruefully, though behind her, the rest of the audience appeared displeased.
“The poor girl. That was totally unnecessary,” a producer at Amand
a’s table muttered with contempt. The table echoed in agreement, several of them eyeing Amanda for her reaction. She decided to remain as expressionless as Casey so no one could tell what she was thinking. Despite trying, she couldn’t shake her suspicion that Casey wasn’t as wounded as she was acting.
By the time of the after party though, the monologue jokes were an after thought. Casey was on top of the world again, having won Best Actress and What Was Left Best Film. She and Dylan were off conducting interviews while everyone else, including Amanda and Liam, got drunk. They sat by Place’s famous fire pit with Liam’s Soldier castmates, Amanda the only wife or girlfriend among them. Each of their designer ties loosened, the rowdy men drank and laughed and speculated as to whether they’d be allowed to do their own stunts in Jordan and jump out of airplanes. Amanda of course had little to offer to the conversation, but Liam kept his arm around her waist and gave it the occasional squeeze to remind her that she wasn’t being forgotten.
“I don’t know about you guys, but my wife would kill me if the jump didn’t, so I’m out,” said Cameron Troy in his Southern twang. He was set to play Liam’s brother in the film. The men laughed and agreed except for Liam who turned to Amanda.
“If I had the chance to jump out of a plane, would you let me?” he asked. She glanced up at all his co-stars who stared at her with big, expectant grins. Realistically, no one would be allowed to do their own stunts, but everyone was drunk enough to just have fun and make believe.
“Of course,” Amanda responded, prompting the men to erupt into cheers so loud that half the party took notice. They laughed upon spotting the handsome fraternity of pretend-soldiers, the women cooing when they noticed Liam hugging Amanda to his side amid the raucousness. But just as Amanda was beginning to have fun, she was distracted by a blur of someone’s sparkly dress as she rushed to whisper in a friend’s ear.
