Two unbelievable chicks back at the pad doing blow and drinking champagne – what can be better? I ran into this chick everybody knows, Sonya, at a lounge in Beverly Hills. She’s bomb as all hell. Seriously! Ass like you wouldn’t believe. Great tits. Legs like there’s no tomorrow. I mean this girl is fucking stacked.
I was with three girls I met earlier at Shutters who I later brought to the lounge for drinks to talk about possibly putting them in my independent feature once I get it off the ground. They were flighty as fuck but god did they look good. Plus they were all from out of town and live in the Valley so Beverly Hills for drinks and back to a house on Coldwater Canyon would have been huge for them.
But then Sonya came around… changing the night completely.
It’s not every day a girl like Sonya hits you up. Believe me. I’ve heard all the stories about her sure, I know she’s ferocious as fuck – and not that I want to admit it – smarter than probably ninety-percent of the country. Sky-rocket IQ always in mind, meshed with her killer fucking body, I know to be on my guard at all times.
Then again, it all made sense. I mean who goes out to a lounge in Beverly Hills that late at night? It just so happened she was bored and we knew each other and now she’s at my place kicking it, that’s how shit happens.
Right now they’re in the living room doing lines and drinking and laughing and getting to know one another because I guess Sonya just met the other girl Rachael at a fashion show earlier in the night. Which by the way, Rachael, holy fuck! That’s all I have to say. Unbelievable.
I can’t even put into words this Rachael chick. Seriously. She makes Sonya look like the ugly friend – but like in a different way. Not that I’m a fag or anything, but back in the day I used to watch old flicks with my old man (asshole he is) and we used to watch Sabrina and Charade non-stop. I remember being a kid and seeing that Hepburn chick on screen being all cutesy and whatnot and thinking that’s the type of chick I want to marry. What made it worse was that she was dead and all – which actually makes my point a little better – not saying this Rachael chick is dead by any means – but I get the same feeling watching her move around the room… like she’s this one of a kind type of girl that it’s impossible to get. I don’t know, she’s like, not the type of chick you take home and fuck or take out to dinner and leave with the check. She’s the type of girl you start at a relationship with or something. You know? Meet on a street corner by happenstance rather than pick up at a club.
Whatever, I’m over it. Not gonna go on and on about how pimp my situation is. Bottom-line, I’ve got probably the two hottest girls in LA in my fucking living room and we’re about to have a blast.
Plus I’m already shitfaced to boot.
I walk into the living room with a bottle of Champagne and the girls are sitting together on the love seat. Fuck I was hoping they’d take the couch so the three of us could all chill. Whatever, I’m over it, I’m sure I’ll be tagging one of the two by night’s end. Let them have the fucking love seat if they want for now.
For some reason they’re acting like they haven’t even noticed me walk into the room. It literally takes like thirty seconds for Sonya to notice me and then like the bitch she can be starts laughing and says, “Champagne, are you serious!?”.
I have no idea what she’s talking about so say, “What are you talking about?”
“We just had a bottle of Belvidere nerd. Who drinks Champagne after tanking a bottle of vodka?”
I still have no fucking clue what this chick is talking about – probably just fucking with me. I sit down on the couch across from the girls and wink at them and say, “It’s Cristal.”
Sonya turns to face Rachael and Rachael doesn’t say anything but Sonya’s smiling and then Sonya cracks up and says, “Cristal! Are you kidding me? What did you get that idea from some fucking rap song! You know Cristal is shit Champagne? It’s only popular because those rap-fucks don’t know any better and the stupid people that listen to them can’t afford good shit.”
“I listen to rap music” I say, and then gesturing around the house, “I can afford good champagne.”
“Your daddy can afford good champagne Cal, let’s be realistic while we’re parting here. You know, we’re all friends here. We don’t have to lie to hang. Just you know” she pauses to laugh, then, “drink your Cristal and hang out with us.”
God Sonya can be a real cunt. Again I’ve heard the stories but never really hung out with her alone like this. She was at my party last week – where I think Donnie fucked her, which is cool since we’re tight and whatnot – but other than parties and clubs, I never really chill with her.
“Can you put on some music maybe?” Rachael finally speaks, and god her voice is like a song. Total opposite of Sonya – sweet, kind, and innocent.
“Sure” I say, realizing all I really have is rap and don’t want to get Sonya started so I turn on the TV and switch to one of the Music Choice Channels. I turn on the electronic station. Girls dig that shit. Gets them all kinds of horny.
“Jesus Cal, we’re doing coke not ecstasy. What is this shit?” Sonya says just before doing a line of my blow.
Rachael widens her beautiful almond-eyes and asks me as sweet as possible, “Can I see the remote and put something on we like? Something tells me Sonya will probably agree with my taste in music a little better.”
How can anyone say no to a face and voice like that? I hand her the remote. She switches it to some station that plays chilled-out chick-type music. Whatever. The song on right now is by some chick I’ve never heard of named Bijork – whatever the fuck kind of name that is – and I can’t even tell if the chick’s singing in English. Whatever.
“Oh Wanderlust, I love this song!” Rachael says just before doing a line.
“Me too” I say, “Bee-jorck is fucking awesome.”
Of course Sonya starts laughing again. “Bee-jorck! Why are you such a fucking liar Cal!? I mean even over stupid shit that no one cares about like whether you know a song or not?”
Jesus this chick never quits. If Donnie fucked her for real the night of my party I believe it, he’s gotta be the only guy in town that could put this chick in her place. Freaked out by how she may call me out again I decide to play it cool and say, “So what if I lied about liking a song? I was just trying to make conversation… you know, something other than you tearing into me.”
“I wouldn’t tear into you if you didn’t give me so many reasons to. And whatever, I don’t even care about the song. I’m just saying you’re full of shit. Everyone knows it anyway.”
I gave up three chicks for this? Maybe I fucked up after all. Sonya is so not worth this headache. But Rachael’s quiet and seems to be okay with everything so rather than fucking with Sonya I bite my tongue and keep the room cool. “So what made you two decide to go out to Beverly Hills tonight?”
“We already told you, Hollywood was dead” Sonya says.
“Plus I’ve never really been.” Rachael chimes in.
“That’s right you’re new in town?” I keep it going, praying to any god with open ears that Sonya chills for a moment.
“Yeah, been here just over two weeks.”
“How do you like it so far?” I ask.
“Are you kidding? I’m never leaving this city. It’s wonderful!” she says cute as can be, then, “You’re so lucky you grew up here, you have no idea!”
“Only people that didn’t grow up here say that, it’s not really what everyone thinks – you know – like Kelly and Dylan type shit. Everything gets old fast. Same shit every day. Same people. You know…”
Sonya finishes off her tumbler and slams it on the glass coffee table then says, “Okay I’ve gotta pee. You just made a fucking 90210 reference and that’s now my official cue to pee. Where’s the bathroom?”
“It’s down the hall, you know that.” I say kinda snappy, tired of Sonya’s shit.
“Uh-uh” she says, “Where’s your bedroom?”
Under any other circumstance I’d give my left nut to have Sonya ask me that question but in light of how things have been going thus far, I’m kinda shaded out. “What the fuck do you want to do in my bedroom?” I ask.
“Pee moron” she says, wasted I’m sure.
“What like…” I’m at a total loss of fucking words, “you’re not gonna pee on my fucking bed are you?”
“As much as I’d like to, I’m afraid not. Way I figure, why with all the girls you have coming in and out of here, the bathroom in your bedroom is probably the cleanest. You know… to keep up appearances for all your ladies Cachi.”
Hard as it may be for me to admit, there is some logic behind her request. Same time on the flip-side to that coin, following the same logic, the bathroom in my bedroom would be the most prone to disease why with all the snatch that spreads over that lid. Fuck I don’t even want to think about it.
“Whatever, my bedroom is the last one down the hall on the top floor. Not to be confused with the room you spent the night in last week with our friend”—
“It would be best if you shut the fuck up immediately.” Sonya cuts me off.
I catch her drift and wink at her to calm her down – chicks love my wink – and she makes way to the stairs.
“Plus with me gone now you can spend some time alone with Rachael. Talk to her about Bee-Jorck and 90210 some more. Dork” Sonya says while walking up the stairs. Fucking cunt.
At long last I’m alone with Rachael. God she’s beautiful. I feel like a moron with Sonya tearing me up every two seconds in front of this girl but for some reason she doesn’t seem effected. The whole time she’s just been sitting back in that love seat, taking lines, and drinking. Smile on her face the entire time – definitely digging the view – two weeks in from god-knows-where, she’s hooked for sure. My view always does it.
“Ever see that view since you moved out here?” I ask her as I approach the love seat and sit beside her. She doesn’t seem to mind.
“Actually yes, I was uh” she lets out a cute little giggle and covers her mouth, “I was actually at your party last weekend?”
“You’re kidding” I say without even thinking. I’m shocked I didn’t notice this girl. How did I miss this girl?
“Yeah I uh was actually right out there”, she points by the pool, “pretty much the entire time. That’s where all the weird foreign beer was, plus I met this guy and we got to talking so yeah… I never came inside.”
God she’s cute. Fucking beautiful. Only half-listening to her a second ago, I only picked up the word guy and have to ask, “You said you met a guy?”
“Yeah an actor, his name is Andrew I think. Nice guy. New in town like me.”
“An actor huh? Is he a slash actor or a real actor?” I ask.
“What’s a slash actor?” She asks, again with a giggle.
“It’s a little term I invented for all the people in town claiming to be actors but really work for an insurance firm or Kinko’s or whatever” I say, feeling for some reason she’s not yet following so I eleaborate, “you know how people are always saying like, writer-slash-producer or actor-slash-director when they’re talking about stars and whatnot?”
“Sure” she says, then cute as all can be asks, “is it okay if I do another line? I feel bad. We’ve done a lot and Sonya said it was cool but I… I don’t know, feel bad not asking.”
I would marry you today, I think to myself, I would leave everything behind and move to a farm in Idaho if I had to. I would do anything apart from dying to have you. God you’re so enchanting. She’s so not the type of girl to get fucked up and just have my way with either. I’m frozen. What do I say? Shit, what did she just say? Oh yeah she asked if it was okay to do some blow… do you know how many chicks do that? Zero! My god this girl can’t be from this planet. I manage to pull myself together and at long last say, “Of course, what’s mine is yours. Once you get to know me a little better you’ll see that’s how I roll with everyone.”
“What’s yours is mine, huh?” she says – this time in a tone and way different from every other time she’s spoken – maybe I’m just paranoid off the coke, but for some reason she sounded, I don’t know, different. Whatever.
“Of course, you especially” I say with a wink, did I mention chicks love my wink?
She smiles. Wink verified.
She does a line. Takes a drink. Then says, “Okay finish what you were saying.”
“I honestly don’t even remember what I was saying” I say – for a change actually telling a chick the truth.
“You were telling me the difference between a real actor and a slash actor.”
“That’s right, I remember now!” I say, unable to take my eyes away from this creature, “It’s actually kind of stupid, but whatever. Like I was saying you know how like Clint Eastwood is labeled a actor-slash-director or like Matt Damon is a writer-slash-actor?”
“Matt Damon is a writer too?”
“Are you kidding? Goodwill Hunting! One of the best fucking scripts ever written!” I say a little too loud.
“I never knew he wrote that” she says.
“Yeah, it made his career. Anyway you know how they do that right? The slash thing?” she nods, I continue, “Well in LA you always get these kids saying they’re actors but really they work in insurance or Kinko’s or something.”
“Didn’t we already do this?” she says.
“Did we?”
“I think we did” she says, “In fact you worded it the same way.”
“Really?” I ask, obviously fucked up or in love or both. Probably both.
“Yeah, but it’s cool though we’re both getting drunk and doing coke and you know how it goes. But I get it, the whole slash actor thing. It’s funny.”
Taking my eyes off her so I can do a line I begin to recall why we had started talking about this in the first place and say, “So the guy you met, is he a slash actor or a real actor?”
“I really don’t know. He works as an extra for Central Casting. What would that make him? A real actor or slash actor? Because being an extra technically he’s acting.”
You’ve got to be kidding me! This fucking goddess spent her night with a fucking movie extra – the biggest losers in town. Infuriated by the idea of a movie extra, or background artist as they like to call it, took this girl away from me during my party, I say after a swig of Cristal, “I don’t even know how to answer that one to be honest” she starts laughing, I’m on a roll, “I honestly couldn’t group extra’s in either category. I mean you can’t call them actors really because they’re not really acting – they just walk around or whatever. And you can’t even consider what they do a job either. I think they make like fifty bucks a day or something? I don’t know, I guess if I’d have to call them anything I’d say fucking losers.”
I laugh. She doesn’t. In fact, she looks kind of pissed.
“I’m a movie extra” she says, “oh wait I’m sorry no I’m not, what was the technical name you gave what I do? Oh that’s it, fucking loser.”
Why does this always happen to me? How do I manage to fuck everything up when I meet the perfect girl? This is why I always say honesty won’t ever make you any friends.
“I didn’t know…” I fumble, “I mean I didn’t mean it literally. I was just, you know, fucking around.”
“Yeah maybe” she said, “But despite your not knowing I do extra work, I did tell you I met a nice person who you have never met and you call them a fucking loser?”
I want to jump in the pool and never come back up. I don’t know what to say. The room is dead silent. Then, out of nowhere (and by the grace of god), Rachael explodes into laughter. I don’t know whether I should laugh along with her or not so I opt to just stay frozen. Then-
“Whatever I don’t care! I’m just messing with you. I know extra work is bogus. I’ve been in town two weeks.” She beams with smiles and giggles.
Relief washes over me and I pathetically say, “Oh that was a good one. You really had me going. I was scared I made you mad or something.”
“Please, like I care. Can I do another line?” she says.
“Stop asking that! God you’re cute. I told you what’s mine is yours.”
“That’s right, what’s yours is mine” she says without any follow up. Does a line. Makes another drink. Chills out. Room is quiet again.
During this uncomfortable silence, it occurs to me Sonya’s been away for a pretty long time. At least longer than it takes for a chick to pee. Part of me suspects she’s upstairs robbing me while Rachael distracts me with her charm. I wouldn’t put it past Sonya, but this girl would never be game. Rather than worry I use the situation as a way to break the uncomfortable silence between the two of us and say, “Boy Sonya takes a long time to pee.”
“She has been drinking all night” Rachael says casually and returns to her drink.
Another two minutes pass and just as I get out of the love seat to check on Sonya she struts down the stairs. God the things I would do to those legs of hers. What a knock out.
“That was a long pee” I say, “Should I check to make sure the silverware is still in place?”
“Silverware in a bathroom?” she says, “God you are so fucking lame.”
“Well you said you were going up there to pee ten minutes ago” I say.
“I’m aware of this” she says, “but when one goes to the bathroom other things may pop up while you’re in there if you catch my drift.”
I have no idea what she’s talking about. She knows this. Then says-
“Christ Cal, if you must know I thought it would be more lady-like to say I have to pee rather than say I have to take a shit where’s the bathroom” she says as she makes her way back to the love seat, preventing me from sitting next to Rachael again – cunt she is.
“Whatever” I say, regretting ditching the three sluts for Sonya, “how did that all work out for you?”
“It was awesome” she says just before doing yet another one of my lines that were provided to her free of charge.
The room goes dead again and I’ve done too much coke today and am starting to feel like shit and need to fuck soon, or if anything else, take a Xanax and drink a little more and get close to fucking. This scene here just isn’t cutting it. I should have waited until the end of the night to give Sonya that eight-ball seeing as not only will I probably not be getting laid tonight, but all the blow on my coffee table they’re sucking up back and forth is separate from the eight-ball. Between the ball, the coke on the table, the Cristal they won’t drink, the bottle at the lounge, and shit-happens money I’m down like fifteen hundred dollars with nothing more than a pair of blue balls to show for it.
After god-only-knows how much time of silence, Sonya finally breaks the ice with, “So Cal, what are you up to these days? You know, like what do you do?”
I so badly want to put this bitch in check by asking her the same question being as work is a foreign term to her but refrain, intending to keep the air civil.
“I’m actually putting together an independent feature – a vampire film - just working out the final kinks with financing. It’s a lot of standard industry stuff, red-tape, honestly it would bore you” I say, knowing full well Sonya’s moments away to give me more shit. Why couldn’t I have met this Rachael in a bar alone? She would have been push-over.
“You mean that same independent feature you’ve been putting together since you were like eighteen? What’s it called, Teenage Vampires in Lust or something like that?” Sonya says – of course laughing.
“Well actually” I begin, wondering how Sonya knew the original title to my project, “I’ve since changed the title to Vampyrez. You know, Vampires only with a ‘y and a z’.”
Sonya and Rachael are speechless. Then Rachael, cute as she is, asks, “You mean like spelled with a y and z?
“Yeah” I say, and then spell the thing out for her.
“So Vampyrez?” Rachael asks again, “Spelled v-a-m-p-y-r-e-z?”
“Yeah”
“So wouldn’t that be pronounced Vamp-eye-rez?” Rachael asks.
I think on it for a minute. Shit, I think she may be right. Fuck, I think to myself, I’ve gotta come up with another fucking title.
“Vamp-eye-rez” now of course Sonya chimes in, “What did you like change the letters around to be cool or something? Is it a rap thing with the y, or are you trying to appeal to audiences abroad?”
“I can never tell if you’re being sarcastic, Sonya” I say, truly meaning it.
“Are you serious?” she says, “You tell people you’re putting together an independent movie named Vampyrez, with a y and a z, and you really have to ask if I’m being fucking sarcastic?”
“Why do I even bother?” I say in a deflated tone – half-hoping Rachael feels sorry for me and possibly may want to fuck later because of it.
“What’s the movie about?” Rachael says, not sure if she’s genuinely interested or just trying to cheer me up, I’ll take whatever I can get.
“It’s a lot of things really. Sort of hard to put all into words, but basically there’s these vampires living in a special school just for vampires – on a secret island somewhere in the Atlantic – and there’s sort of two feuding groups within the school and all that kind of stuff, but, here’s the twist. They’re all musicians. So at the end there’s a battle between their bands along with a vampire battle and whatnot.” I say and they’re speechless, then I remember, “Oh yeah and all the female vampires are lesbians.”
The girls are speechless and at long last I finally managed to shut Sonya up. Whenever I’m in a bind I can always rely on my creativity – whether it’s artistic or just coming up with bullshit. In this case – my artistic side wins the chicks over.
After quite a bit of silence Sonya finally says, “So it’s like Harry Potter only with lesbian vampires and it’s spelled with a y and a z?”
“Basically yes” I reply.
“And this isn’t another one of your lies? You actually plan on making this movie?” She says.
“Well I don’t plan on making it; I am going to make it. Like I said, we’re just going through the final financial negotiations.”
“And who exactly is this we you speak of? Like your father?” Sonya says.
“No not my father, this is my project. I’m fully capable of putting together a production. I’ve been dreaming of this my entire life.” I say with a little smile shot toward Rachael – chicks love guys with dreams.
“Well” Sonya begins, “If I’m you I’d keep dreaming because even with all your Daddy’s money I doubt anyone would be retarded enough to make your movie. Vamp-eye-rez or whatever the fuck you call it.”
“I told you we’re already working out the financial kinks” I say, getting furious and defensive – angered to no end Sonya has to do this kind of shit in front of Rachael – who by the way seems to want Sonya to shut her mouth as well. “And how many times do I have to tell you I don’t need my father’s money. I’m doing this myself.”
“Cal sweetie, people like you aren’t capable of living without your “father’s money”. You and all your pals never grow up. That’s the problem. What’s worse is eventually you spread your seed and another generation of spoiled, conceited, narcissistic, morons come along and keep the cycle going.” Sonya says in a manner suggesting to me not only is she completely serious, but she’s had this opinion for some time.
“Why are you being such a bitch right now Sonya?” I say, looking over to Rachael for support.
“Because you’re fucking dangerous, that’s why.” Sonya says.
“Oh I’m dangerous now?” I say, “First I’m a liar and now I’m dangerous? Which one is it?”
“You’re dangerous because you’re the type of liar that actually believes their own bullshit.” She says, “Unless all of what you told me is one big joke, I can’t see you as anything else outside of insane.”
“Well” I say, “Most geniuses are confused as being insane before their work is appreciated?”
“Cal sweetie” Sonya says, “You’re far from a genius. In fact you’re a moron. A pathological, obscenely wealthy, moron.”
I’m raging. Never do I allow anyone to speak to me like Sonya is right now, and in my house, drinking my booze, and doing my coke – no way. And above all things some slut is telling me the facts of life. Not happening.
“And the worst part is the fact your parents have money” Sonya continues, this time setting her glass down and breaking down every aspect of my soul with a deep pair of once brown eyes now a solid oily black, “Normally a mind like yours isn’t supported and people like you end up in jail or padded room. But in your case, with all your family’s money, not only has your fucked up pattern of living gone unsupervised, but it’s actually been encouraged. I bet your parents tell you you’re a genius all the time?”
“As a matter of a fact when my mother was around she always used to say that.” I say as literally have to sit on my fists to keep from knocking Sonya the fuck out.
“Well she was lying. And she’s to blame for the way you’ve turned out.” Sonya says coldly. Then she actually takes another one of my lines, makes another drink, and makes herself more comfortable in the loveseat. Rachael who is beside her is speechless. So am I. And although normally Rachael’s sympathy would be a cool thing for me to play off of and eventually use to sleep with her, sex is the last thing on my mind right now.
“Come on Sonya” Rachael at long last chimes in, “we’ve all had a little too much to drink and it’s been a long night so we’re all talking nonsense. You know how alcohol can make people get… saying things they don’t really mean”
“Right the Mel Gibson line.” Sonya says with a laugh, “Someone’s gotta break the news to Cal – otherwise he’ll stay in that fucked up fantasy world of his and just get worse.”
My mind is a complete blank right now. Everything Sonya says comes out in slow motion – knives to my chest. I see Rachael watching this all unfold and feel an inch tall. Never in my life have I allowed myself to be this mutilated. Normally in control of my surroundings and the people I let into my world, Sonya’s come like a hurricane and left what once thrived in my heart and soul in ruins. This, I think to myself, is why it’s better never to tell anyone what’s really going on – it’ll just give another reason and another way to break you apart. To tear you down. To tell you how much you’ll never make it. Just like the old man.
“… they call that enabling Rachael” Sonya keeps talking but I’ve zoned her out – frozen in space and time by this brunette succubus of a cunt, “How else can you explain how he’s operated like this for so long?”
In my pocket I reach for the lump of my keychain – where attached is a stainless steel pill-case. Tuning out Sonya who’s still going strong with her little rant, I open the pill case and find two Xanax ladders. Normally where I only take a half-pill to come down, I was down both full pills with what’s left of the bottle of Champagne I’ve been drinking solo. I just want this fucking night to end. I want to black it all out. Tomorrow I want to wake up and forget none of this ever took place. I want to forget about Sonya. I want to forget about my father. I want to forget about the past.
All I’m focused on is the future.
In minutes hopefully a Xanax blackout and tomorrow I’ll start my deal with Donnie. When it’s all said and done I’ll have done something on my own – finally able to shut everyone up.
Nothing I do is ever good enough. One way or the other I’m always in the wrong. And then people ask why I lie all the time? Why shouldn’t I? It’s the only way to make everybody happy.
All four milligrams of the Xanax get to work early and I find comfort in knowing soon this will all be a bad dream.
With the sounds of Sonya rambling still in the background I fall back in the couch and let the spell of the drug overcome me. I think about Rachael and somehow manage to focus my eyes on her – wanting her to be the last thing I see tonight.
And just before total blackout a thought comes to mind –
So what if I’m a liar? At least I’m not a movie-extra…
My day will come soon enough—
