by Jen Calonita
“I told her no! Just like I told her to call off the paparazzi,” I insist, my chin held high. Liz continues to stare me down, as do the others. I look away. “But I’m not sure she’s going to listen to me.”
Sky shakes her head and tsks. “This is why you were so easy to pick on all those years. You are a wet noodle.”
“I am not a wet noodle!” I pause for a moment to order my breakfast from the waiter who has been patiently waiting for a break in the conversation. (I order the Jarlsberg cheese omelet. Austin does the same. Sky gets egg whites, Liz a bagel with lox, and Nadine, an omelet.) Everyone stares at me expectedly, and I realize I still have an argument to make. “I stand up to my mom sometimes! Remember when I wanted to go to New York? Or do Small Fries? I got to go to Clark Hall for a few months, didn’t I? And to be fair, I didn’t actually let her fire anyone this morning.”
“But now you’re back to square one,” Liz points out. “When we came up with the Clark Hall idea to give you a few months of normalcy, you swore you learned how important it was to have time for you. You said you wanted to be the best you could in front of the camera, and happy when the camera was off. You said you were going to keep balance in your life, but look at you! Just a few months of taping and you’re already letting your mom bulldoze you again.”
“It’s easy for you all to judge, but you don’t know what it’s like. How do you fire your own mother?” I look at Sky. “How does anyone other than Sky have the guts to fire their own mother? Yes, I should, but she’s going to be crushed, and I can’t stand that. So for now, I let her pile too much on, and then I make myself miserable in the process.” My chest is starting to feel tight. I know this feeling and I hate it. I need to take deep breaths, but that’s impossible when you’re doing everything you can not to start sobbing.
“I told you, if it will help you out, I’ll take the Eastwood project,” Sky tries to lighten the mood. But instead I turn on her again.
“YOU don’t get to joke.” I point my trembling finger at her, the wide arm of my green sweater practically falling in my water glass. Austin pulls it away. “I don’t even know what to say to you! You are so not keeping the Bob’s Big Boy clock!” Sky gasps.
HOLLYWOOD SECRET NUMBER EIGHT: The Bob’s Big Boy clock is a prop in our Small Fries characters’ dorm room. Yes, it’s kind of hokey, but the prop is our absolute favorite, and even though we hope our show is around for a decade, we both joke about who will get the Bob’s Big Boy clock if we get the ax (that superstition thing again—actors can’t admit when something’s going well!). Our set decorator, Bobby O’Shea, is a stickler for finding props that really speak to the characters’ places in the college hierarchy (not to mention their wallets). Most set decorators I know do the same. When you’re watching a TV show, I’m sure you don’t spend much time freeze-framing shots to see specific things on a character’s nightstand, or what books are on their bookshelf, but believe me, everything on that set has been placed there with a lot of thought. The cereal boxes that sit on top of our Small Fries mini fridge are rotated every taping. Taylor’s textbooks are ones that freshmen actually use at Brown University. Even our dry-erase board notes, which can barely be seen behind the large potted plant by the dorm room window, are changed all the time. Decorating a freshman dorm room may be relatively easy, but some shows I know—like Mad Men, which needs period pieces from the sixties, or The Big Bang Theory, which has tons of scientific gadgets—take a lot of planning.
“You can have the Bob’s Big Boy clock.” Sky is calm. “If that is what it takes to get you to listen to reason, K. We’re worried about you.”
“We?” I question, squinting menacingly at the group. There are other traitors afoot.
“Yes, we,” Liz pipes up. “I hate seeing you like this. You’ve been so happy since you got this job.”
“She is happy.” Austin sticks up for me. “Especially today. It’s her birthday. Hint. Hint.”
“But if it wasn’t her birthday, she’d be miserable right now,” Liz points out, staring at me like I’m a specimen in her AP science class rather than her best friend. “Ever since that Turkey Tasters event, I’ve noticed how unhappy you’ve become. I think a lot of it has to do with your mom. All the stress she’s been under launching two stars on two TV shows has finally caught up with her, and she’s lost her mind.”
“And your mom going loco is making you lose your mind,” Sky clarifies. “Two jobs? One hiatus? Seriously? She’s trying to ruin you. This”—Sky waves her hands wildly in a gesture that is supposed to represent my life—“is not normal.”
“You’re all overreacting,” I scoff. “My life is normal.”
“Kates, we love you to pieces, but your life is not normal,” Liz says delicately and takes a sip of sparkling water. “You’re going to lose you in all this work you’re doing, I just know it, and that scares me. You won’t have time for us.” She looks away.�� “I don’t know how long we’re going to stand on the sidelines waiting for you to stand up to your mom. You made such strides this summer. It’s the most relaxed I’ve ever seen you. Next hiatus you’re going to be a zombie! And you might even lose some friends.”
“Is that a threat?” I’m not sure if I should be hurt or angry.
“It’s a fact,” Liz says simply.
“If you overextend yourself and blow both projects, your future offers will be ones that D-listers would turn their noses up at,” Sky adds.
“Plus there is college to think about,” Nadine throws in. “We know you’re the tiniest bit interested in taking classes at USC. Don’t deny it! I saw the essay on your desk.”
“That was private!” I gulp. Shoot. I was hoping no one would find it. That’s why I hid it under a Sure magazine. No one reads that anymore. “What do you guys want me to do? Tell Cameron no? Turn down Ellen? I can’t!”
“Start by changing your mom’s role in your life,” Nadine says simply. “She’s got to go. Just think of the things she’s gotten you into! Remember that ‘Paparazzi Princess’ song? That wouldn’t have happened if your mom hadn’t made you go to a meeting with that music mogul, TJ. Then there was the time your mom became obsessed with Alexis Holden and didn’t see how manipulative she was.…”
“And then there was the time your mom wanted the Burkes to be on a reality show, or when she wanted you to come out to the Hamptons for the afternoon even though there was barely enough time to get back into the city to do Meeting of the Minds.…” Liz ticks off each indiscretion on her short, silver fingernails.
I close my eyes tight, trying to block out the images. “Don’t all moms mess up sometimes?”
“No!” they say at the same time.
I throw my napkin down on the table. “I’ve had enough.” The waiter pours me another freshly squeezed orange juice, and I take a huge gulp before continuing my rant. “She’s my mother. I’ve never once insulted any of your families.” Liz hangs her head shamefully. “My mom may book me too many press commitments behind Laney’s back, she may not listen to me, and she may be overbearing.”
Wow, this really does sound bad, but I’m not letting on.
“But that’s for me to complain about, not you guys.” Even Sky is starting to look a little guilty. “She’s my family, and family sticks together.” I begin to choke up, and I push my chair out from the table so I can leave. “And since you guys obviously aren’t my family or the friends I thought you were, I think I want to celebrate my eighteenth birthday elsewhere.”
“We are your friends,” Sky insists, her chunky quartz Pippa Small ring smacking the table. “K, if you would just listen to us, you’d see we have a plan.”
Nadine grabs my hand before I can walk away. “I want to be your manager and Sky’s manager. I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you that. I know I could do an amazing job, and you’d be so much happier.”
“Listen to her, Kates,” Liz agrees. “This is just the change you need.”
I look at Liz skeptically. “Really? F
iring my mom is the change I need? How am I going to live with her after that?” I question the group. “Bet you guys didn’t think of that. Or at least, it’s really easy to say when you’re not the one who has to do it. Even worse, you really haven’t thought through the logistics at all. How am I going to afford Seth and Laney and now Nadine when Mom has control over my money till I’m twenty-one?”
“But—” Nadine starts to say. Nadine’s neck is blotchy. She and Liz break out in hives when they’re either A) lying or B) very nervous.
“Do you want to hire Nadine?” Sky asks bluntly. “That’s the big question. This is your career, not your mom’s.”
“My mom made my career!” I tell the group. “If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be sitting at Barney Greengrass right now. I’d be at some mall in the valley buying Old Navy cords! You guys want me to just turn around and tell her ‘I’m sorry, I decided I’m better off without you’? She’d be crushed. I can’t do that to her.” I grab my yellow leather bag. “Enjoy the birthday cake.”
“Kates, wait!” Liz begs, but I keep walking, smiling politely at the waiter as he stares at me bewilderedly.
“Burke! Hold up!” Austin trails behind me and grabs my arm. “Calm down. Don’t let this ruin your day. You’re eighteen! We should be celebrating.”
“Kates! Wait!” It’s Liz and Nadine again, but I’m already on the elevator down. Four more flights to go.
“Come on, K! Buck up and get back here. Let’s talk.” Sky is right behind them, but the doors shut and Austin and I are thankfully alone.
I’m furious. “They pick today of all days to tell me everything that is wrong with my life?” I mutter more to myself than to him. “I know I have to fix things, but was today the day to bring it up? I just want to get out of here and go to the DMV. ”
“Even with the paparazzi there?” Austin asks gently.
“I know.” I sigh. “I told Mom to call them off. Who knows if she did? I guess I can call Laney and get an update when we’re in the car.”
I rush out the front door. I don’t want to see my friends and my former assistant. I just keep moving, but I get hit with a flashbulb as soon as I exit.
The paparazzi caravan starts in. “Back so soon, Kaitlin?” I forgot they were here. “Come on, take five minutes to take a picture!” one says, getting right in my face. I try to move around him, but there is another photographer right there. “It’s the least you can do! Come on, it’s your job! Comeon comeoncomeoncomeoncomeon!”
“KAITLINKAITLINKAITLINKAITLINKAITLIN!”
“LEAVE ME ALONE!” I bark, momentarily stunning them and myself.
“You’re rude!” one paparazzo yells back.
I spin around as I start to get surrounded by cameras. “I’ve got to get out of here,” I tell Austin. “I gave Rodney the day off. Where is your car?”
Austin makes a face. “The garage, which I now realize is on the other side of the building.”
“Kaitlin!” Liz races out the door looking upset. “Can you hold up a minute? We should talk.” Nadine and Sky are right behind her.
“I don’t want to talk!” I yell as flashbulbs continue to pop.
“Kaitlin,” Nadine says, side-eyeing the cameras. “Come back inside so we can talk about this in private.”
“Yeah, Kaitlin, go back inside!” one of the paparazzi taunts as he takes pictures of all of us. “We need a bigger star anyway. You’re not going to amount to anything if you can’t at least turn and pose for a simple picture.”
“He’s kidding,” another tells me. “Stay and pose. COME ON. You owe it to us!”
“Kaitlin! KAITLIN! KAITLIN!” they sing annoyingly.
“Kaitlin, please,” Liz tries, joining the chorus.
“Go away!” I tell Liz. “You’re not my friend. None of you are!”
“Aww… poor pampered celeb has issues. Wah wah,” I hear one of them say. My blood is boiling.
“Burke, I think we should get back inside.” Austin takes my hand. “These guys aren’t going to quit.”
I don’t want to stay here, and I don’t want to go inside and talk to my friends. I’m trapped.
Then a black SUV pulls up outside. It’s a studio courtesy car. I’d recognize it anywhere. It’s here to pick up another star, I’m sure, but I’m too upset to feel guilty for what I’m about to do. I rush over and bang on the window as the paparazzi start to surround me. “Hey! Hey! Can you give me a lift?”
“Kaitlin! Just come back inside,” Nadine begs.
“Seriously, K, get a grip,” Sky barks. “Just take a picture with me and get these goons off your back. We can finish brunch. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
I whirl around. My heart is beating fast. “STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO DO!” I scream at the top of my lungs.
Sky looks as if I’ve slapped her.
I’ve finally snapped, and I know it. “I’m sick of everyone telling me what to do! What not to do! Where to go, where not to go, who to take a picture with. Just leave me alone! GO AWAY!”
“Kates,” Nadine stammers, but I cut her off.
“YOU ALL THINK YOU KNOW WHAT’S BEST. EVERYONE KNOWS BETTER THAN ME, RIGHT?” I’m still yelling, and I don’t care that the paparazzi are taking pictures and probably using their camera phones to record my tirade. “Well, fine. Go do what you think is best, and I’ll do what works best for me.” I’m not even sure I’m making sense. “Everyone takes care of number one. That’s what you did, right, Nadine? You got yourself a shiny new gig and forgot about me. So go do it. Sky? You signed on even though you knew I would be upset. So take her. You two deserve each other!” I’m starting to cry, and the paparazzi are still shooting.
“Boo hoo! Poor Kaitlin!” one of the guys says as he zooms in for a close-up of my tears.
“Knock it off, ” Austin tells them.
“Hey, freedom of speech, dude,” one says. “You back off! ”
“Austin, forget it.” I stare them down. “They’re scum!” I know I’m egging them on, and I don’t care. “They won’t get a good picture of me today.”
FLASH. “Who said it had to be a good shot?” one says with a laugh.
The driver rolls down the passenger side window. He’s a tall, skinny man in his forties. “Kaitlin Burke, right? Get in already. We’ll get you away from these thugs.”
“Let’s go,” I say to Austin and drag him to the car.
“Burke, we don’t know him,” Austin starts to say.
“Kates, don’t go,” Nadine says. “Austin is right.”
“I can take care of myself! ” I feel overwhelmed by all the flashes that keep blinding me. “Stop trying to rule my life!”
Do I control my life or does my life control me?
My life controls me.
That’s the million-dollar answer to the essay question, isn’t it? At least it’s my answer and you know what…it stinks. It really stinks!
“I have no control over my life. Everyone has something to say about what I do. Everyone! My mother dictates my every breath like I’m a form of Ashtanga yoga. Laney wants me to be the cover line in every magazine, and the first story on every TV gossip show. All for good things, of course. Liz is on my case about, well, everything. Nadine wants me to apply to college even though I don’t have time to take a bathroom break, let alone Psychology 101. Dad wants a piece of every project I make. Matty always wants to know what’s in it for him, too. Lauren and Ava want to ruin my career. Alexis Holden almost ruined my career. Sky gives me too much garbage to even list.”
“You go, girl!” one of the paparazzi says with a laugh.
“Kates, stop,” Nadine says through gritted teeth.
But I can’t. “Austin is the only one who cares about me for me. EVERYONE has something to say about my life, from the color of my manicure to the shampoo I use to wash my hair. Every part of my life is micromanaged and carefully crafted and I get no say in anything! I’m sick of it!”
“Burke?” Austin tries to get
my attention again.
“Now that I really think about it, I hate how controlled my life is. I’m only eighteen! What is my life going to be like when I’m twenty-five? Or thirty? Is my mom still going to be deciding my choice for Emmy red carpet shoes at Fred Segal? Will she make me skip dinner with friends to go to a taping of The Tonight Show? How did this become my life?” I feel myself start to hyperventilate.
“Kates?” I think I hear Liz say.
“She’s having a breakdown!” one of the photographers comments. “LOVE IT!”
FLASH! FLASH! FLASH!
“I hate you guys! Drop dead!” I scream at the paparazzi. I’ve never even said anything remotely close to that to one of them in my life. I’m usually so accommodating.
One mutters something I can’t repeat under his breath, and I completely lose it. I say the same thing back!
“Kates!” Nadine freaks.
“Get in, Austin!” I bark and he jumps in the car. “DRIVE,” I tell the guy behind the wheel.
“Wow, those guys are like animals,” the driver says, shaking his head. “Scum.” He peels away from the curb, and I fall into Austin.
“You okay?” he says as he puts on his seat belt. I do the same.
“No,” I say quietly and start to cry. “I can see my future stretched out ahead of me and I don’t like it.” I look at Austin. “Press commitment after press commitment, project after project pops up that I know will be squeezed in till I don’t have room to sleep. There will be no time for me, for you, for my friends.…Why did I decide to be an actress again?”
“Kates, you’re upset right now, but you love what you do,” Austin reminds me. He’s holding on to the seat and suddenly I realize how fast we’re going.
“Can you slow down?” I ask the driver.
“Can’t! Look out the back!” the driver tells me. “The scum are trailing us. Don’t worry, I’ll lose them.”
I don’t even care. What I care about is my life, and I feel like it’s falling apart. Austin is right. I like acting, but it all comes back to this: I can’t stand the package that comes with it. I want two lives, and I can’t seem to find a way to have them both.
