All this waiting around is becoming very tired. I swear, with an exception of the house party Saturday, I spend more time waiting behind the ropes than I do inside these things. Today I’m waiting on Sunset to get into some fashion-show my friend Stacy told me about. She’s the one who invites me to all these things. She moved out here to be an actress a year or so ago and has had some success – at least with networking. It was her coming out here that actually lit the fire under me. She gave me a couch to crash in her place (that is way too expensive for her to be paying the rent on her own) in West Hollywood. It took me a week to find my own place (which is nowhere as nice as hers) and since moment one it seems as if Stacy’s got one party or event after the other to go to. I can’t honestly tell if she wants me around, I’m thinking she’s just inviting me here in the beginning to be nice. Outside of the invites, all the parties I’ve gone to I wasn’t able to find Stacy to say one word to her. Once she gets to wherever we’re going, I’m on my own.
Today it’s Boulevard 3.
Stacy assured me I was “on the list” earlier when she told me about this thing last minute. An hour ago, I learned the hard way that I wasn’t on this magical list. I called her up, she told me to mention her name to the six-foot guy holding the ropes, I did, he told me she wasn’t on the list either. After telling this to Stacy, she told me to sit tight and wait for her and a friend of hers whose name escapes me. That was almost two hours ago.
Now here I am in a line that goes all the way down Sunset, sweating it out in my new Vera Wang black-pleated ottoman-wrap short-sleeve stole dress that I bought at Vionnet on Robertson just for this event. It’s itchy all over and very uncomfortable. Added to that, it’s nowhere near as cute as some of dresses the other girls are wearing… and I’m sure these girls didn’t have to break their Visa limit for whatever they have on. They probably have closets full of things I can only dream of. As hard as it is at times to see the other girls and feel an air of competition between us, I can’t bring myself down. I’m fresh in town after all. I’m sure after a few months I’ll have more than I need.
Stacy’s nowhere to be seen and she’s not answering her phone. Every few minutes the guy at the ropes lets another group of people in. The people walking in pay him absolutely no attention, it’s as if he’s not even there. Yet for me, he’s holding all of the power.
I’m not the only girl waiting though. Behind me is at least fifty other girls, all dressed to the nines, chirping away on their iPhones and furiously chain-smoking cigarettes while they wait to be let in. There’s something sad about the girls around me that I can’t quite put a finger on. They have this look about them that suggests they’re always sizing up and judging any girl that walks before their fields of vision. They look onto each other (and me) with immediate distaste – As if they’re threatened by the presence of another female. I understand the competition involved in The Industry with young girls – we only have so many shots. But to immediately shun a stranger just on the basis they might not be able to “do for you” – that just seems like a hard way to get ahead.
At this exact moment, a girl who can’t be more than twenty-one years old is literally burning a hole into my chest with her eyes. I don’t know if it’s the dress on my shoulders or the cigarette I just lit, but something I’ve done has rubbed her the wrong way. I can tell this girl has already made up her mind about me just from one look. No matter how much we may have in common or what goals and dreams we may share there will never be a friendship between the two of us. To her, I’m the enemy. A distraction from herself.
Again, not that I worry myself with what other people think, I just find it a lonely way to go about our mutual grind trying to make it in this town. And she’s not the only one setting me ablaze with judgmental eyes. All of these girls are giving a once-over to each other.
I bet the biggest reason these girls are so threatened by one another is because they’re so alike. There’s not an original look in the whole herd of waiting girls behind me. In one way or another, they’re all dressed the same; they all have the same tan, the same handbags, watches, and cell phones. They’re clones of one another with nothing original to offer this town. A dime a dozen as they say. And apart from their physical similarities, I’ve noticed they’re all the same on the inside as well. Each girl concerned with one thing alone – fame – and all the material that comes with it.
As these girls chatter between themselves and look enviously onto the privileged few being let over the ropes, they’re not thinking of networking and making friends. They’re wondering if tonight will be the night they meet a person that will snap their fingers and “make them a star” overnight.
Looking at these girls, I’ve come to grips with a sad fact about this day and age. With things like reality television and YouTube, it’s gotten to the point where fame can be acquired with zero talent and no work. For the select few that gain their 15 minutes, they’ve laid out a new mold for thousands of girls to fruitlessly follow. They’ve burned the impression into every girl that’s ever been called pretty that just being pretty is enough to have a television show, big house, and all the toys life has to offer. When the truth is, without talent, passion, and hard-work, there’s no future for these girls outside of one day either working the food-service industry or becoming a professional divorce’.
I finish my cigarette and take a deep breath of the Los Angeles night. I clear my mind – realizing I’m being just as judgmental as the next girl. I need to keep track of my thoughts; careful not to fall into any cliché’s. As evident by this crowd outside, the only way I can assure success is by separating myself from the pack and presenting myself as something unique and never been seen before. A trend setter.
I check my watch and realize that guy from set, I think his name’s Andrew, is going to be showing up in a little bit with his other friend from the party on Saturday. I almost completely forgot about inviting them. When I was on set earlier, Stacy told me I was on the list so I figured it wouldn’t be a problem inviting a couple people. The way I figured, Stacy would be MIA the whole night anyway, so having a couple familiars to talk to wouldn’t be so bad. Now it looks like I may never get inside. And if Andrew shows up with his friend just to stand in line, I’ll feel like a complete retard.
I pull out my phone to text Andrew but it starts ringing before I can even pull up my contacts. It’s Stacy calling. Finally!
“I’m so sorry Rachael. Traffic’s a bitch. We’re on Bronson turning on Sunset right now. We’ll be there in like two minutes.” Stacy chirps without taking a breath, “we don’t have to worry about parking. Sonya knows the valet guy.”
They were supposed to know the guy at the ropes, I think to myself, and that hasn’t helped me any. Stacy’s been real nice since my getting out here and she means well so instead I say, “Okay I’m outside by the ropes. I’m sure you won’t be able to miss me.”
“Oh yeah we’re going to tear that jerk at the door a new one for not letting you in. He’s some douche that makes minimum wage pretending he’s in charge or something. Guys like that are just pissed our lives are so much better than theirs so they take it out on people like you…” Stacy continues on but I’m not listening, then, “Okay, okay we’re pulling to the Valet. I see you standing by the door. You’re dress is so cute!”
“Hang up the phone Stacy. You’ll see your girlfriend in a second. I can’t take your shrieking any longer.” A cool, calm, smoky voice says from beyond the phone. Stacy’s friend Sonya no doubt.
The phone goes dead without a goodbye. Before I can put it in my purse Stacy rushes me. Her friend whispers something to the Valet.
“Ohmygod Rachael your dress is so fucking cute!” Stacy screams. “Where did you get it?”
“Vionnet on Robertson. Do you really like it? I’m thinking of returning it. I feel like an old woman compared to the other girls.”
“Fuck those lesbians Rachael. You look amazing! Just like the Breakfast at Tiffany’s Girl!”
Stacy takes a few deep breaths and goes silent. Her eyes beg me to mention her dress, which I think, like mine, is a Vera Wang – only hers is a Lavender Label from the Fall Collection… probably three times as much as mine. How Stacy can afford a green quintain-jacquard dress with a black-satin twill neck and matching hem-panel jacket with a layered silver fox collar, and not have a day-job, I’ll never know… “I love your dress” I finally decide to appease her, “is it Vera Wang too?”
“Of course! Turquoise Label. I saw it at a show just like this one two weeks ago. Been waiting for the right time to wear—“
“Are we ready to go in yet Stacy? Or are you just going to chat it up on the sidewalk with your friend here?” Stacy’s friend says in annoyed tone.
“Sorry, yeah, let’s go in. Rachael’s been out here waiting for almost two hours.” Stacy says with a frown.
Before I can say anything, without eye-contact, Stacy’s friend Sonya says, “Well maybe you shouldn’t invite your friends to the dance so fucking early. If she had met up with us at my place I wouldn’t have had to rush to get here. It’s not even going to get hot for another hour at least”.
Stacy opened her mouth to offer an apology but too late. Sonya is already on her way to the guy at the ropes. Once Sonya gets within an arms distance from the ponytailed bouncer, he lights up and drops whatever it was he was doing… and for good reason. One girl appreciating the beauty of another, Sonya is absolutely stunning. Apart from myself, she’s the only girl here (at least from the looks of the outside) dressed with some class and dignity. She has on a tight crème colored blouse that hardly reveals anything outside of the curvy shape of her chest (but no skin). Her skirt hangs almost to her knees, exposing only an inch of perfectly tanned skin before a gorgeous pair of Italian-leather knee-high boots takes over with the rest of her long legs. She presents herself with her head up high – it’s obvious she answers to no one. The other girls around the ropes that once burned holes into me cower away from Sonya, unable to meet her eyes, almost as if they’re scared of the very idea of her.
And they should be.
After a few words and a smile, the ponytail at the ropes gestures for Sonya to enter the party. Before moving an inch she points to Stacy and I and whispers something else to the bouncer. He nods his head. Sonya waves the both of us over. I can’t believe it. In less than a minute this Sonya girl has achieved what hours of waiting probably could never do for me.
There was nothing to it for her.
I walk pass the ponytail and try to meet his eyes but he looks away. He most likely realizes his mistake in not letting me inside earlier and doesn’t want to have to deal with it. No big deal. At least I’m on my way in.
“Sorry about that dick” Sonya starts, then realizes something, “what’s your name again honey? I’m sorry?”
“Rachael!” Stacy exclaims before I can move my lips. Sonya scorns her with annoyed eyes. Stacy calms down and says timidly, “her name is Rachael.”
“Right… Rachael” Sonya says, “Sorry about that dick at the door. He usually doesn’t do the weekday events here. He knows your face now, so any time you come here even without me you should be cool. Just ask him about his girlfriend or something. He likes it when he’s paid attention to.”
I don’t know how to respond to Sonya. In fact, part of me is afraid to speak. Sonya seems like the right kind of person to know and the last thing I want to do is burn a bridge before I’ve built it. Stacy’s dead quiet too. There has to be a reason for that.
The outside “Garden Area” leading into the main building is absolutely stunning, yet Sonya walks as if she’s been here a thousand times. I want to appear to be just as matter-of-fact about my surroundings, but I just can’t hide some of my awe. The lighting in the Garden is something out of a movie. A beautiful fountain leads into a small pool where everyone gathers around for cigarettes. It looks like the front of a European Palace.
Scattered fireplaces house small groups of fashionable females talking with their pretty-boy male counterparts. Everyone seems so numb to their surroundings, as if this sort of thing occurs for them every day. They smoke, drink, share gossip, and completely ignore a beautiful layout of hors d'oeuvres. There isn’t a giggle amongst any group on the outside, and despite some people trying to get Sonya’s attention, she just mows right passed them.
“I really can’t stand this place” Sonya says while speed walking past the garden and toward the main building, “you’ll find that once you’ve come to one of these things, you’ve been to all of them.”
I’ve already caught on to that, I think to myself, struggling to keep up with Sonya’s frantic pace. We march right through the front foyer – ignoring the scenery and the scattered cliques chatting away mindlessly.
Unlike Sonya, Stacy is booming. The social scene around her is just what the doctor ordered. Like a third grader who forgot to take his/her Ritalin, she pinballs from group to group shrieking her hellos and remarking on what everyone is wearing.
I look over toward Stacy wondering if I should join her. Maybe she’ll introduce me to some people? Probably not. Before the thought totally registers Sonya’s smooth hand graces my shoulder and her dark eyes meet mine with a soft roll, “Don’t bother” she says, “She’ll busy herself for hours. Meanwhile if I don’t hit the ladies soon I’m going to freak”.
And with that Sonya gestures for me to follow. Together, without sharing a word with one another, we plow through a stream of people on our way to the bathrooms. My head is spinning. As much as I want put on the brakes and take in my surroundings even if only for a half-second, I don’t want to miss a beat with Sonya.
As we approach the ladies room two dozen cute boys run their eyes over Sonya… then me. Probably by default of association. This I can get used to.
We get to the hall leading to the bathroom with little trouble and Sonya says casually, “at least there’s no fucking wait. Come on.”
The bathroom is what I imagine Ivanka Trump’s looks like in her apartment – Beautiful wallpaper, lush paintings, a whole set-up of perfume for guests to sample as they please, and candies I’ve never seen before in my life. Candies in a bathroom? A first.
Sonya locks the door behind us and I can hear muffled complaints from the girls in the hall. Sonya brushes it off and heads straight for the sinks. Grabs my wrist and pulls me with her.
“So you stood outside for two hours waiting?” She asks while checking herself out in the mirror.
“Yeah” I answer humiliated… probably blushing.
“So what, this is like, what, your second week in town?” She asks, now delicately picking through her handbag.
“About that long, yeah” I say.
“Well let me tell you something honey, you’ll spend a lot of time waiting to get into places if you keep toting around with Stacy. I know she’s sweet and all, but she’s an ice-bucket if you know what I mean.”
To this I chuckle despite not quite getting the ice bucket reference. Sonya most likely sees this. Still picking at her bag she continues, “You’re a cute girl and you seem smart enough. You’ll have this place figured out in no time. It only took me a couple weeks to get my act together. Not for everyone though, something tells me our little puppy Stacy is a lost cause”. Sonya finds what she’s been picking for – a glass vial filled to the top with white powder – for once she allows a smile. “I don’t imagine you medicated yourself while you were out there?” She inquires, referencing the Cocaine.
“Oh no. I mean I smoked a lot of cigarettes. But not… I mean I’ve never tried that. It’s not really my thing.” I say pointing to the coke, wondering if I sound like an afterschool special to Sonya.
Sonya shovels two mounds into each nostril using a beautiful sterling silver mini-spoon – I question if Tiffany’s makes such things for this exact purpose. “Sweetie” she says between sniffs, “out here this is everyone’s thing. Even if they don’t like it.”
She offers me the vial. I take it. Look at her pathetically. With her eyes she tells me to ‘just do it’. I comply. Same thing as Sonya. Two mounds in each nostril. It kind of burns but I go with it. Don’t want to come across as…
“Run some water over your fingers and sniff it into your nose. Trust me. It will make it better.” She says as she demonstrates her suggestion before me. I follow suit.
Silence for a beat. I can feel Sonya studying me. Possibly awaiting my reaction to the drug.
“Don’t tell me you’re doing movie extra gigs.” She finally breaks the silence. “Please don’t tell me you’re doing that shit. You’re way too cute to be doing that.”
Before answering I take a breath in through my nose and feel a rush of sour hit the back of my throat. I almost gag. Sonya cracks up. “What the hell was that!” I yelp.
“Oh you’ll find out in a second babe.” She says with a smile, she studies me again, and then says as if just realizing something, “I think you may have a bit of potential Rachael…”
“Okay” I say, not really knowing what that means. My heart pounding for reasons I don’t know why.
“We should ditch this place… Stacy too. She’ll be fine on her own. Probably not even realize we’ve gone… I can, I don’t know” she smiles, “give you your first real night on the town.”
“But isn’t this supposed to be some big party we’re at right now?” I ask as I feel an almost orgasmic rush of tickles envelope my brain and set my skin on fire in a good way.
“Please, this thing was dead before it even started” She says while taking what I presume to be her last snort of Cocaine for the moment.
“Well I get the impression that your opinion is the one to listen to… I mean when it comes between you and Stacy, even though I hardly know you, well I don’t know you at all, well I mean we just met, even though we just met, I’d rather stick with you. I’ve been with Stacy before. She’s probably already forgotten I’m here… plus for some reason I feel really comfortable around—“
“Shhh” Sonya says with a wink, “I get the idea sweetie… We’ll have a good time I promise. Something tells me you’re doing just fine right in here.”
And with that I realize I’ve been going a million miles a minute on account of the Cocaine. I’ve seen it happen to others. Now me. If I want to keep up appearances for Sonya here, I better chill myself. But Christ I feel good!
Sonya offers me a final mound and I take it without question. She screws her stash shut and replaces it in her bag. She gives our reflections a quickie in the mirror and without saying a thing directs us out of the bathroom. I put up no fuss at all.
•
Making our way out Boulevard 3 we haven’t talked to a single person – and Sonya’s wanted it that way. I feel the rush of the Cocaine coming on a little strong and wouldn’t mind one of the free drinks being passed around but Sonya assured me its dead at this place. And if what I see all around me is dead I can’t wait to see what alive looks like.
She mentioned something about going to a place called Avalon but mentioned it being too early. It’s 10 o’clock now. The fashion show is just about to start and we’re on our way out. Sonya and I haven’t said much to one another at this point. I’m just following her for the ride. I think she likes that. Maybe feels like she’s doing a good deed. As an actress, I just want to absorb as much as I can from a girl that moves like this. We make our way pass the garden toward Sunset Blvd when out of nowhere Sonya stops and breaks her silence and determined march toward the street…”what are you doing at a fashion show?” She asks playfully to someone I cannot see.
“Fucking friend asked me to come for a minute. I’m on the way out. You?” A male’s voice responds. I still can’t see, but whoever he is, he sounds relaxed and smooth… but at the same time, a little raspy and experienced.
“Ditto. I can’t believe I came in the first place. Managed to rescue a friend of Stacy’s from all this. She’s new in town…”
Sonya spins me around gracefully with her hand and presents me to the boy she’s talking to and I almost die the moment we meet eyes. My heart triples the beat and only half of it is coming from the coke. This boy is beautiful. Not like the rest of the Cachi’s here. One look, just one second and you can see he’s his own person. Not your typical pretty boy… granted his face is absolutely gorgeous but not in your typical GQ way. He’s scruffier. A small beard covers his soft skin. His disheveled dark-brown hair reaches to his cheekbones but hardly hides the mystery and beauty in his eyes… those eyes. Eyes that have seen a thing or two… this is the type of boy who I could lose myself for hours listening to his stories… I don’t know why, but something tells me he’s—
“We’re thinking Avalon later.” Sonya says, breaking me out of my spell that I’m not quite sure how long I’ve been in.
“What day is it?” my future husband asks while lighting up a cigarette, “Tuesday? Wednesday? Who the fuck wants to go there on a weekday?”
“Coming from a real corporate warrior? Don’t listen to a word Donnie says Rachael” Sonya says to me, “He gets off on putting on this anti-hero façade. Little does he know, he’s just as full of shit as everyone else in this town.”
“Smelling our own again aren’t we Sonya?” He asks with a smug grin. Then, nothing. A moment is shared between Sonya and this Donnie boy. There’s definitely a history between these two but I have no right to get jealous. I don’t even know this boy… and certainly not as well as Sonya no doubt does…
“Maybe we’ll see you there later tonight?” Sonya asks as she rushes both of us away from him toward Sunset. He doesn’t follow. Nor does he answer. Although I wish he did… god that voice…
“Avalon gets hot around 1 or 2ish so we’ve got a bit of time to kill. I’ve got my car so we’ll head up the hill or something. We’ll figure it out….” Sonya drones on and on but I can’t hear a word; Donnie’s still swirling around in my mind. Definitely wouldn’t mind bumping into him wherever our night takes us. The valet brings the car up to us and I’m zoning out like crazy. Sonya has to wave her arms at me like one would a child to gesture for me to get into the car. I want to think some of this is coming from the drug, even though I know it can’t be. Somewhere in the background I think a boy is yelling my name but I write it off. No one knows me yet… that will of course change tonight with Sonya.
Sonya… the kind of girl that walks right in, that can hush an entire room, that can share a moment with a boy like that Donnie…
Sonya… a girl I wouldn’t mind aspiring to be. A girl who the actress in me wouldn’t mind molding herself after.
I get situated in the seat and think about where this night may take us. Realize how it’s really the beginning of a new chapter. Sonya will in one night educate me to a world that would have taken years to explore on my own.
Sonya starts the car up and bums down Sunset and I’m ready for anything… wouldn’t mind some more blow… definitely wouldn’t mind some more Donnie… whatever happens though, I’m okay with….
It’s not like I’m breaking any special plans with anyone… the nights all open… in fact, the whole week’s free.
