Dane: Hollywood's Finest

by Wilde, Delilah

  Chrissy gave a smug smile. “You love her,” she said. “What? No, I don't.”

  “You love her,” she repeated, “I can see it your eyes. You're crazy about her. It's pretty adorable.” “OK I don't know what the fuck you've been smoking but I want some. I don't do the love thing, all right?” I said, my voice slightly raised. I was genuinely starting to believe that this girl was on crack. Me, in love? What the fuck was wrong with her?

  “All right,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows at me.

  “Can we just run through the script?” I snapped. Chrissy giggled. Her laugh was supposed to be the most endearing thing about her, according to most magazines. Right now it was pissing me off. “There's nothing to run through. You tell me you're going to fuck me, you fuck me, I tell you to go faster and then I fake an orgasm. Kind of like when we were together, huh?” she teased. Now that was a bit much to believe. She was a good actress but certainly not good enough to fake that kind of response.

  Despite her protests, we did a run through. It was only occasionally interrupted by Chrissy's fits of giggles and her asking me if I was pretending she was Savannah. I ignored her and powered through my lines, though my hands were shaking. Chrissy had always been so perceptive. She knew our first day on set that Mark would want to re shoot. She could always tell which of our co stars were screwing around she'd predicted at least ten celebrity marriages (and fifteen celebrity divorces). Could she really be right about this?

  Did I love Savannah?

  Savannah

  Mark was nice. A little bit too nice, really. He reminded me of my study buddy in high school who let me copy his math homework and then threw a bitch fit when I didn't agree to blow him as a reward. That was a mean comparison but it fit.

  “So, do you want to be an actress?” he asked, handing me a beer from Dane's fridge. I took it, though it was a little early in the morning to be drinking. I didn't want to be impolite. For all I knew this guy would be the next Quentin Tarantino. If I could say that I was friends with him that might get me somewhere. In LA they called that networking.

  “No, not at all,” I said. He sat down next to me, just a little too close.

  “A model?” he grinned. Ugh, was that just a generic line that Hollywood guys used on dumb small town girls? I was too short to go on most roller coasters for Christ's sake. I wasn't going to be walking down a runway in Paris anytime soon.

  “No,” I said, “And I don't want to be a singer either.”

  “You're not like most girls in LA then,” he said. I couldn't argue with that, though I hadn't met any so far. I'd just heard about them.

  “I guess not.”

  “It's a real shame, you have the face for camera,” he said, “It's really symmetrical.”

  “Thanks.”

  I could sense his eyes roving around my body and suddenly I knew why Dane didn't want us to be alone together. This guy had a thing for me. It wasn't like I wasn't used to being hit on. I wasn't unattractive by any means and men liked my curves. It just felt strange that to have a guy who was surrounded by movie stars twenty four seven interested in me. It was flattering at the very least, even if I didn't find him attractive. It was funny to think that Dane was jealous of this guy. There were very few women in the world who chose a guy like Mark over a guy like Dane.

  “I think you'd be great in romantic comedies. Down to earth and palatable but inspirational at the same time, you get me?” he said.

  “Sure, I get you but I don't act,” I said. He was getting on my nerves now. I opened my beer and took a sip.

  “I know, but you should think about it,” he said, “So, what do you do if you don't act?”

  I took another long gulp. Normally when I told people I designed clothes they looked at me like I said I worked in Santa's toy shop. However, this was Hollywood. Everyone had unrealistic career goals in Hollywood.

  “I'm a designer,” I said, wording it that way on purpose. It was true. I didn't want to be a designer. I was one. It was in my blood and my spirit. I just wasn't a very successful designer. Yet.

  Mark nodded and drank his own beer.

  “Cool, cool. You know I'm always looking for costume designers for these movies. We have all we need for this one but I'm directing a period piece soon, set in the twenties. Prohibition, flappers, all that cool shit. You wouldn't be interested, would you?” he asked. He said it as if he was asking me if I liked spaghetti when he was literally offering me the opportunity of a lifetime.

  “Wow! I mean, of course I would! I love the twenties aesthetic, I think I could make some really great pieces!” I said, not able to hide the excitement from my voice. The twenties was my absolute favorite period in fashion history. As a junior I'd designed a whole dress line for Daisy from The Great Gatsby. A local museum actually used one the dresses for an event it was having on fashion in the twentieth century. This was just the opportunity I needed.

  “Sweet, well I'll let you know when it's up and running,” he said, “God, it's warm in here isn't it? I hate these tiny trailers.”

  If this trailer was tiny then I really wanted to know what a big one looked like. I would have been perfectly happy to live in here by myself. I'd have more room than I had in my own apartment. “Yeah, it's pretty warm in here.”

  “Anyway, what are you doing hanging out with a guy like Dane?” he asked suddenly. I wasn't quite sure how to answer. I didn't know myself. I couldn't exactly tell him that this was all a one night stand that had gotten out of control. Could I?

  “We're friends,” I said. It seemed like a safe bet. Actors probably took their friends to movie shoots all the time.

  “Friends? That's new. I didn't know Dane had female friends,” he said, narrowing his eyes at me. I felt hugely uncomfortable. It sucked knowing how much Dane's reputation proceeded him.

  “He does. At least, he has one.”

  “Right. Great, that's really cool,” he tilted his head to one side, “Sweetheart, do you mind if I give you some advice?”

  “Sure,” I said, though I resented being called sweetheart. At least when Dane called me pet names he knew how obnoxious he was being. It was a deliberate way to tease me. Mark was just patronizing.

  “You're a really pretty girl and I can see why you'd get swept up with a guy like Dane. He's a movie star, he's good looking, whatever. But you're wasting your time if you think you'll get anywhere with him. I've worked with this guy and I've seen him in action. He has no respect for women at all,” he leaned in closer to me, “To tell you the truth, most actors aren't very intelligent. I can't imagine that you two have very stimulating conversations together.”

  Oh god, was he serious? Dane was a lot of things but he wasn't just some brainless actor. He was smart. No, he wasn't exactly a gentleman but he was totally disrespectful. He had been kind enough to take me in after all the paparazzi drama. He wasn't all bad.

  I edged away from Mark and saw a pronounced tent in his pants. He didn't even try to cover it up. “We're just friends,” I said.

  “You need someone with a bit more substance,” he said, “You've got a brain, you're creative. You need someone on the same page. Don't you?”

  “Um...” I was looking at the door now, wondering if I should excuse myself to go for a pee.

  “I think we could do some really great shit together if you wanted to. I could direct, you could star,” he said, before remembering, “Well, you could design the costumes too. I bet you'd look great in a tiny flapper dress.”

  He was looking at my legs now. Jesus Christ, was there any way to shoot this guy down. “You're right, it is too hot in here. I might go outside for a bit,” I said desperately. It was too late.

  This guy had seen what he wanted and he was going to get it. Without warning, he took my face in his clammy hands and kissed me hard on the lips. I struggled but he was forceful, shoving his tongue deep into my mouth. It made me feel sick.

  Though I tried my best to pull away he took this as me being playful and held on
tighter. It was only when his hand reached for my breast that I slapped it away.

  “No,” I said firmly, “No, we're not doing that.” He rolled his eyes.

  “I thought you wanted to be a big star?” he said. Jesus, the guy had the listening comprehension of a two year old. I shook my head.

  “I don't. Especially not if I have to do that,” I said. He just laughed at me. “Playing hard to get, huh?”

  Before I knew what was happening he was kissing me again. It felt there was no point in fighting back. This guy refused to take no for an answer. So I let him kiss me, hoping to god that he'd have to come up for air soon and that I could run out of the trailer.

  That didn't happen. Instead, the door opened just as we were pulling apart. It was Dane.

  “Oh, hey man,” said Mark, wiping his mouth, “You done rehearsing?”

  Dane nodded slowly, his eyes practically burning holes in the walls. He was mad. Really mad. “That's great,” said Mark casually, “Meet you on set in about twenty minutes? Thanks buddy.” He patted Dane on the back and left the trailer, leaving the two of us alone together.

  “It wasn't what it looked like,” I said softly. “I don't care what you do!” he snapped.

  Dane

  This was why I didn't do love. It wasn't like in the movies when you meet a beautiful girl and the two of you just fit together. If that was the case everyone would find their true love at twenty five and lead fulfilling lives in the suburbs. Fat chance. Real life was different. In real life people weren't on the same page. People, especially fickle and what they wanted with life could change at the drop of a hat. My parents had been married for sixteen years and never had an argument, but my Dad decided to run off with his secretary and that was the end of that. Falling in love just seemed like a massive gamble to me. It wasn't a risk I was willing to take.

  Still, why did it have to be Mark? It could have been any other person in the world and I would have been cool with it. I would have congratulated Savannah and told her I'd see her around. Then I'd move on and fuck someone else. It would have been simple, but the thought of her with that creep turned my stomach. How could she let him touch her like that? It was disgusting.

  Savannah tried to make conversation with me for the remainder of our time in the trailer but I couldn't even humor her. I told her that I needed complete silence if I was going to remember my lines. It was partially true.

  “All right but Dane, you have to understand,” she started but I put my hand up. “Total silence.”

  “I didn't want to kiss him!”

  “Total silence,” I repeated, “And I don't give a shit what you do.

  ”I wished that was the truth.

  After the silence became too much for even me I told Savannah that I was going to set now. She got up to follow me.

  “You can't come. It's a closed set,” I said. It was true, we didn't tend to film sex scenes with every crew member watching. It was usually just the people who needed to be there. However, I was Dane Reynolds. If I really wanted Savannah on set they weren't about to say no to me.

  “Oh, so what should I do?” she asked. “I don't know, have a nap or something.”

  I closed the trailer door behind me before she could say anything else. It was surprising to me that she didn't argue. I guess I was kind of hoping that she would. Obviously she felt bad, though she had no reason to. She was single and she was as entitled to do what she wanted as I was. I just wished she hadn't done it in front of me.

  I thundered onto set in such a way that the whole crew looked at me nervously. I wasn't great at hiding when I was pissed off.

  The set was a bedroom, complete with balcony and fake New York night sky. Mark was talking to a member of the camera crew but as soon as he saw me he came over.

  “Hey buddy, how's it going? You ready to get started here? Chrissy's in make up, but she shouldn't be too long,” he said. He peered around me, “Where's Savannah?”

  “It's a closed set.”

  “Yeah but there'd be no problem having her here, you know that,” he said. It took everything I had not to punch him in his smug little face.

  “She's not interested,” I said, “She'd rather stay in the trailer.” Mark smirked.

  “Yeah, that's fair. She's probably feeling a little embarrassed,” he said. I took a deep breath and clenched my fists.

  “Embarrassed about what, Mark?”

  Mark's pale skin reddened slightly. It was sickening to think of his pale clammy hands touching her beautiful skin. He lowered his voice and shoved his hands in his pockets.

  “We got kinda carried away in your trailer. Not cool, I know,” he said, “I should have asked first. You guys aren't exclusive, are you?”

  In that moment I wished more than anything that I could say yes and wipe that smug smile off of his face.

  “No, we're not,” I said. Mark nodded, grinning at me.

  “A girl like that's too good to keep to yourself. God damn it, did you see the way her tits looked in that dress? I couldn't keep my eyes off her. I'm not gonna lie, when you came in I felt like I was gonna kill you. I was so close to hitting that,” he said. This was not what I wanted to be hearing. Mark and I weren't buddies. I could barely stand him on a good day but I certainly didn't want to hear him talk about Savannah like that.

  “I wouldn't be so sure. She's pretty picky,” I said. Mark patted my shoulder.

  “Yeah, those kind of chicks always are. But it's OK, I got a way in,” he said. A way in? What, did he think his money would help him get into Savannah's panties? Yeah, right. She wasn't that kind of girl. It took more than that to woo her.

  “Money?” I asked, raising one eyebrow, “Cos she doesn't care about money. It won't make her like you if she doesn't already.”

  Mark sniggered.

  “No man, not money. This is genius. I wanted to give myself a high five just for coming up with it. She tells me she's into making clothes and whatever...” he started.

  “Designing,” I interrupted.

  “Yeah, isn't that what I said? Whatever. Anyways, get this. I told her that she could design for my next movie. I made some shit up about it being set in the twenties or something and she lapped it up. If you had waited a few more seconds she would have been sucking my dick!” he said, between breathless laughter. It took a moment for me to take it all in.

  “So, what you're saying is that you lied to her?” I said. That shit eating grin didn't even flinch a bit. “Yeah, but alls fair in love and getting pussy, right?” he nudged me. That was it. It happened so damn quickly. It was only when I heard people screaming that I realized what I had done. I'd shoved Mark to the ground and punched him several times in the face. I had to be pulled off by security and escorted out of the place to cool off.

  I glanced back and saw Mark holding onto the side of his head and moaning. I'd done the right thing.

  Savannah

  “We're leaving,” Dane burst into the trailer, interrupting my nap. I'd somehow managed to fall asleep on the bed, despite how worried I was. I sat up to see Dane's t-shirt stained with blood. “Jesus Christ, what happened?” I exclaimed, “Was this part of the movie?”

  He shook his head and began to gather up his things. “Nope.”

  “Jesus, what happened? Are you OK?” I asked.

  “I'm fine. Mark may or not be dead though, so we better get moving,” he said.

  “Dead?” I yelled.

  “I'll explain in the car.”

  Suddenly the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen in all my years on earth burst into the the trailer. It was Chrissy Jones, dressed in a seductive black silk gown, her dark hair flowing in caramel waves past her breasts. The only thing that ruined the picture were her blood stained hands.

  “Chrissy, don't start shit now. We're leaving,” said Dane. Chrissy closed the trailer door and stood tall against it, her slender arms folded.

  “I don't think so,” she said, “I don't know what the fuck you called that, Dane Rey
nolds, but I call it fucking up a movie. I don't want to have to re shoot all this stuff with another actor, but you can't beat our director to death. It's just not good.”

  “To death?” I squeaked. I squeaked again when Chrissy looked at me. I wasn't a lesbian but if I had to chose a girl to go gay for, Chrissy Jones would be number one on my list.

  “Don't worry honey, it's just an expression. He just lost a few teeth. He'll be fine,” her voice switched from gentle back to aggressive, “But this fucker could have killed him. What the hell was that about you stupid son of a bitch?”

  “I don't have to discuss this with you. I quit. I don't give a fuck about my contract. I'm not working with that fucker on this piece of shit movie. It's not like I need the money,” he said. He turned to me, “Savannah, are you coming with me or are you gonna stay here and stare at Chrissy some more?”

  I got up, feeling my skin flushing. The last thing I wanted was for her to know what an adoring fan that I was. Dane had made it clear how irritating that would come across.

  “All right, we can go,” I said. Chrissy reluctantly moved aside and let Dane pass. He stormed out without giving either of us a second glance. I gave her an apologetic smile and was about to make my way out when she grabbed my wrist.

  “What?” I asked. Her hand was so soft. She probably used creams that cost most than all of my cosmetics combined. Even so, her grip was firm.

  “He's crazy about you,” she said, “He might not want to say it, but he is. Don't let him treat you like shit.”