“We’ve been through this you know I can’t count our sessions as an hour unless you participate. I want to help but I can’t if you don’t want to help yourself.”
Vanity closed the mirror in which she was fixing her make up. Her eyes raced up and down Dr. Botgore.
“Looks like you’re the one who needs help.”
Dr. Botgore thought back to his college days. A round bushy haired professor by the name of Mr. Kane stood (leaned) in front of the class and spouted the wisdom bestowed upon him from generations past.
“We are doctors yes. We are creators of life, shapers of the mind and helpers of those in need. But first and foremost, we’re human and humans are fallible, never forget that.”
Dr. Botgore appreciated the sentiment. While he may no longer be technically alive (at least by current medical standards) he’s still very human. Using years of experience in dealing with the most difficult clients Botgore pulled out the bug guns.
“What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?”
Like a spider waiting for its prey to spring the trap, Vanity found her moment.
Vanity looked to the sky to think that lasted as long as it took Botgore to register the action before she locked eyes with a fire that he’s never seen before.
“The shoes work with the khakis but khakis? Really? The 90’s ended a long time ago.
“The wrinkled shirt screams “I don’t own an iron” but it’s charming. Shows you care more about the business than your appearance but.”
Vanity raised her hand a minute as she panicked. Her head jerked forward in what appeared like an involuntary action. The veins in her neck bulged as she began to dry heave. Dr. Botgore rushed to her side with a garbage pail to throw up in but she controlled herself.
“I’m sorry. It’s just that tie is an abomination.”
Botgore looked down at his tie. “I like it. Your brother gave it to me.”
“Typical of Morpheus.”
“Are you two close?”
“In his dreams.”
Botgore smiled.
“Okay. Enough let’s get to why you’re here, tell me about Heather.”
The Cost of Beauty
It was a perfect day in perfect sunny California. The perfect grass absorbed the rays from the perfectly clear blue sky. Heather Liston was preparing for work, doing her make-up in a large mirror that spanned across the entirety of her perfect bathroom.
A voice came from downstairs. “We need to go!” It was Stephenie the now 12-year-old who was cute and great for pictures when she was in the NICU but now as she’s going through puberty, not so much.
“MOOOOOM! We need to go! Mrs. Watson keeps us after class if we’re late!!”
A tall man with short-styled hair, a slim-fitting suit, and a 5 o’clock shadow hurried down the stairs. The man was Evan Liston and he was a talent agent for the biggest celebrities, but when he’s not hobnobbing with the Hollywood elite, he’s a father of two.
“Mommy’s busy getting ready for work. Let me take you in the Porsche today, how’s that sound?”
“Dad, that’s an old man’s car. You’re the only one that thinks it’s cool. And mom never made me lunch!”
Evan reached in his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash clipped in a golden money clip with a globe that says “money makes the world go round.” He pulled out a fifty, looked behind him and whispered “if mom asks, I gave you a twenty, okay?”
She giggled. “Okay!”
She kissed him on the cheek and they headed for the door.
“Bye honey! Have a good day!”
“Bye, mom!”
They both stared at the empty staircase awaiting a response.
Eventually, they left.
8:54, six minutes until showtime. Heather was contouring her face to create the peaks and valleys necessary to maintain her brand image. One slip up and the parties over. Maintaining appearances online is like heart surgery except if you screw up heart surgery you always have another patient. Heather didn’t have that luxury, she had to get it right the first time or be ridiculed forever.
The clock read noon and Evan was seventy-four floors high above the world in a glass prison masqueraded as an office building. Sitting across from the gargantuan cherrywood table were the Bisley sisters, up incoming child actors who were known for their bright blonde hair and childlike innocence. He discovered them when they were toddlers working the commercial circuit and they quickly rose to stardom starring in the number one hit show in North America “Two In A Pod”. Thanks to the success of his discovery, Evan was able to move up the corporate ladder and went from fetching coffee to paying for the whole order. The show has been successfully running for four years and has grown in audience significantly during that time but the girls are now older and tired of the same old roles.
The boardroom was mostly empty except for the two sisters, their pitbull of a manager, Evan and William. William was a short man with boyish features, medium brown shaggy hair, and a golden nose ring with a rainbow bead in the middle that to Will symbolized his openness. William is a soldier on the front line of intolerance and his nose ring? That’s his battle flag, a symbol of hope to build morale for those fighting the good fight. William grew up in Mississippi to two fundamentalist Christian parents. William’s parents were honest, hardworking, god-fearing people. Overall respectable members of the community. Growing up in a small town everybody talked, so when William came out to his parents at 13, they did everything they could to suppress as they called it “the devil inside you”. First William was forced into bi-weekly church meetings where an elderly man with fewer brain cells than teeth would teach the kids to “pray the gay away.” Despite best efforts all these meetings did was reinforce the identity of the children. Seeing others that felt like they did helped the children recognize they weren’t alone. What was meant to be a Christian gathering became an LGBT support group.
When William’s parents found him making out in his room with Bobby, the Marlots kid they grabbed him by the arm and drove him four hours into the middle of an empty field where a group called “Defenders of Christ” hosted a yearly event where they set up tents and trailers to host conversation therapy sessions. William was held against his will in the middle of nowhere forced to watch heterosexual pornography and told he is going to hell for being gay. The children would be forced to write “Jesus is inside me” thousands of times on the chalkboard as a form of punishment for “sin”.
William would joke with the other captives “I wish Jesus was inside me.” They would all laugh hiding the pain behind their eyes as most prisoners of war do.
One night, when the guards were asleep, William and a small group of his friends snuck out and hotwired one of the vans. As they drove off the property a few counselors chased after them in their tighty whiteys. The tires got stuck in the mud before making a mad dash for the road spraying mud all over the counselors in pursuit. The boys made it to a small town where they left the car, hopped on a freight train and never looked back. William hitchhiked for about a year exchanging sexual favors for rides until he finally made it to Los Angeles where he found a cute man named Orlando, a short Filipino man with a muscular frame and short gray hair. Orlando worked for a talent agency and noticed a new recruit Evan Liston was without an assistant. Orlando pulled a few strings and the next thing William knew, he had an interview with Evan. Within minutes the two hit it off. Thanks to the help of William, Evan discovered the Bisley sisters which changed his life forever. As a thank you, Evan promoted William to Jr. agent hoping one day he will eventually make partner.
William took initiative where there was none. Evan knew why he was eager and respected his hustle but wished he would tone it down, especially in situations like this.
He took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and began.
“Thank you for coming. We understand you’re very busy between the show and designing the clothing line, we appreciate being able to see you in person.”
William interrupted.
“Can I get you guys anything? We just got a new espresso machine.”
Both girls said in unison “We’re good.” Then looked at each other and giggled.
Evan eyed William.
“So, we understand your frustration by being locked into the three-year contract. I ran it past legal an.”
William interjected.
“Makes great lattes.”
“Will, I think they’re good.”
Evan cracked a smile trying to hold back his frustration.
William recoiled his hands to his chest.
“Alright.”
He took a deep breath.
“We ran it past legal and they said we can probably negotiate out of the contract if we agree to one more season.”
“But we said…”
“I know. Look, you two are the stars of the biggest show in America. The studio doesn’t want to give that up. If we can promise them one more season it will give us bargaining power.”
The girls’ eyebrows furrowed with the news.
“Just think about it, nothing needs to be decided today. In the meantime we got an offer from Shana at Talon studios I think you may be…”
A woman rushed into the room. It was Evan’s secretary Mrs. Balston. She was an older lady with a no-nonsense attitude. She had gray hair tied in a tight bun, glasses hanging around her neck on a string of pearls, and an ivory Cashmere cardigan with black buttons. A tough woman who’s seen it all. She has worked here long before Evan and will probably be here the day the building is demolished.
Something about her no-nonsense attitude was comforting to him. She reminded him of the mother he never had. Evan was born in a compound in Colorado. A result of two hippies having a fun night with no protection. He never met his father and his mom didn’t see a problem with that. She was a free spirit and felt everyone was entitled to freedom of choice even if that means permanently scarring her young son.
When he moved to Los Angeles his mother disapproved. “They’re all blinded by money. You don’t want that life.”
He very much wanted that life. Growing up poor watching his mom sleep with anyone who smelled like skunk or had a van was a constant reminder that if you don’t build a path for yourself, the world will build one for you.
Shortly after his relocation, Evan got a job as an assistant to the assistant at GoldCapp, the biggest talent agency in North America. He mostly did coffee runs but it gave him the opportunity to be in the same room as big Hollywood players. One day, Burt Reynolds was scheduled to meet with Arthur Gold, one of the founders of GoldCapp. If they could snag the biggest movie star of his time it would be a huge power move.
To make everything perfect, Arthur’s assistant asked Evan to grab six coffees and one special request latte for Mr. Reynolds.
Evan stumbled into the boardroom coffees balanced in a double-stacked tray trying not to spill a single drop.
When he handed out the coffee, the lid to the latte popped off spilling boiled milk all over Mr. Reynold’s arm.
Arthur chewed him out in front of everyone.
After that day no one spoke to him except when giving their coffee order. One day while eating lunch alone, a woman with long brown hair sprinkled with streaks of grey approached him. She wore glasses on a pearl string that hung around her chest.
“Mind if I sit here?”
Evan looked up curious if maybe someone didn’t recognize him, surely if they did they wouldn’t be speaking to him.
“Sure.”
The woman sat down.
They said nothing the rest of the break but he never forgot how Mrs. Balston made him feel. For the first time in his life, he felt cared for.”
When Mrs. Balston rushed in she looked panicked.
“What is it?” Asked Evan.
“It’s Heather. She’s called multiple times and says it’s an emergency.”
He looked at the girls whose eyes seemed glazed over by all this business talk.
“What do you ladies say we call it for today? Read the offer, let me know your thoughts. We’ll chat soon.”
For the first time all day, the girls smiled.
Evan rushed out the door and ran to his office grabbing the phone sitting off the hook, it was Heather and she was in tears.”
“What’s wrong? Is Stephenie okay?”
“They said I looked old!”
“What?”
“They said I looked old! Am I old?”
He collapsed in his chair.
Evan arrived home a little later than usual. A meeting with an up-and-coming child actor who already has the attitude of Patti Lupone insisted no one leave the meeting until her demands for a larger trailer and a pay increase of thirty-five thousand dollars were met. Evan being the intermediary tried to bargain with the studio heads while walking on eggshells as his juvenile client watched him squirm.
By the time he came home, he was famished and ready for dinner. Evan was surprised to see his two children sitting in front of the television watching Bugs Bunny.
“Where’s mom?” He asked Stephenie his eldest.
“Upstairs on her phone. She’s doing it for over an hour can we order a pizza?”
“Sure, tell them to charge my account.”
He ran upstairs. Making his way up he turned around and yelled “No soda!”
He could hear Heather from halfway up the staircase. The door to their bedroom was a 3-inch thick slab of cherry wood hand carved by her father. He didn’t care for the door, in fact, he hated it. When the door was closed you couldn’t hear a thing from the outside which he didn’t like. He wanted to know if someone broke in before they were standing inches from the edge of his bed.
As Evan approached the top of the stairs the voices became clearer, despite the door being closed it was as if Heather was yelling in his ear.
He slowly opened the large chunk of wood that separated Heather from the world and saw her sitting on the floor with mascara in her hand fixing her eyes.
“Yes! I learned to heat it up for fuller lashes. Doesn’t clump as much.”
Evan waved his hand to grab her attention. She brushed the air in his direction, shooing him away.
“I’m busy!” Heather whispered away from the phone.
He whispered back. “Do you know what time it is? The kids haven’t eaten.”
“They’ll survive. It hasn’t been that long. You have no idea the day I’ve had.”
She turned to her phone, the illumination lit her face like a neon campfire.
“I’m no scientist but I imagine the heat allows for an even spread. Watch.”
Heather clicked the button on her blow dryer and held the mascara bottle to the camera running the heat up and down the bottle. The loud fan drowned out Evan and with that he gently closed the door not to disturb her any longer.
As he approached the bottom of the staircase he saw Stephenie and Tyler at the bottom of the steps.
“Is she almost done?” Asked Stephenie.
“She’s….busy. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun right? Why don’t you pick a movie? Something appropriate for your brother, no horror. I’ll grab the pizza.”
Evan’s watch buzzed indicating it was 6:30 and time to wake up. Stephenie and Noah slept huddled together on the far end of the couch while he remained somewhat upright.
“Christ.” he thought to himself. As he felt the stiffness in his lower back set in.
He quietly got up not to disturb Noah and Stephenie. He gently kissed them both on the forehead and quietly headed upstairs.
Evan tried his best to quietly open the monstrosity that was his bedroom door but the old hand-crafted metal hinges hissed waking Heather.
Wiping the crusted drool from her mouth she snorted and said “Evan?”
A painful jolt shot from her back. A result of nine hours on the artisan crafted hardwood floor.
“You slept on the floor?”
“It was a rough night.”
He sighed, raising his fingers to his eyes.
“Alright sweetheart. I love you. Coffee’s ready.”
Today was a big day for Stephenie. The science fair was next week and today was the day they brought their projects into class for a final inspection. Stephenie loved science and Evan encouraged her love. She would ask questions years beyond her age. He knew she was destined to change the world.
“Can we put the top down?” Asked Stephenie.
“I think it’s best if we leave it up. You worked so hard I don’t want the wind to damage it.”
Stephenie pouted.
Traffic was heavier today. A watermain broke causing a long line of cars to sit on their horns creating a belligerent symphony.
“Is mommy okay?”
Evan wasn’t expecting that. Not this early. His job requires him to prepare for the worst scenarios and even he wasn’t prepared for that question.
“Yeah, she’s okay. Why do you ask sweetie?”
There was a pause while Stephenie brought her finger to her chin. He couldn’t help but giggle at how cute she looked.
“What’s so funny?” Stephenie asked.
“I just love you.”
He dropped off Stephenie at school and watched as she carried her project as big as she was through the big red doors. Mrs. Lougstein held the door for her, waving to Evan as he drove off.
Back in traffic, he turned on the radio. Huey Lewis and the News played “If this is it” a classic. In an attempt to drown out the noise of horns and jackhammers he cranked it up.
The music didn’t last long until his first call came in. It was Heather.
“I’m not happy.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t like how we left it this morning.”
“Well, falling asleep on the floor sets a good example.”
“Not me! You! You don’t understand! You never show me support.”
“Sweetheart. I love you, I can’t do this right now.”
“It’s never a good time!”
“I didn’t say that. I’m on my way to wo..”
“It’s always an excuse!”
Heather hung up.
He pulled into the parking lot, flashed his ID to Paula the security guard and she waved him in. The conversation raced through his mind as he rocketed to the 32nd floor to the tune of “elevator music #12”.
When the doors swung open he was greeted by Mrs. Balston who at times appeared like a frail older woman until she opened her mouth.
Before he could say hello she cut him off “Parker’s moved the meeting up to ten. Which freed up your noon so I scheduled your conference call with Louie then. It gives you ample time to chit chat before you get into the dirty details. Rodger wants to see you at three but I told him you have an appointment at Stephenie’s school at 4:45” she whispered. “Our little secret.” She winked. “Should get you out of here in a reasonable time.”
Evan sighed. “Annie, I don’t know what I would do without you.”
She smiled. “That’s why I’m here.”
He slipped between the thin glass doors that separated the conference room from the rest of the world. Across from him was William West, the biggest movie star since Brando. Today was a big day and nothing, not even Heather could change that. He set his phone to silent, took a deep breath, and began.
“We can talk numbers later” said the stumpy man in the pinstripe suit. He was Rodney Fillion and he was William’s manager. A heavyset man with balding hair and a double chain that chafed when he spoke. People in the office joked “If the penguin from Batman was a real person, it would be Rodney.” Rodney was a real shark. He fought hard to get what his client needed before his client even knew he needed it. Rodney was a staple of the industry as old as talkies. His passive-aggressive attitude gave him a reputation that those who underestimate him do so at their own peril.
Rodney looked at William West eyeing his demeanor and asked “Any questions? Now’s the time, these agents are snakes if you haven’t learned anything in the last year.” Without acknowledging him, Rodney continued. “Once they get their grip around you, they squeeze you for everything you have.”
Rodney finally glanced over to Evan “no offense.”
“No offense?” He thought to himself. “How else would I take it?”
“None taken.” He said between his teeth. He knew if he wanted to close the biggest deal of his life he would take anything except offense.”
William West was what the industry calls a “method actor” which means he was completely out of his mind. Last year William was cast to play George Washington, to get into character he pulled all of his teeth and replaced them with a replica of spring-loaded wooden dentures made from the teeth of the deceased. If nothing else, the man is a walking headline. So as long as he keeps his nose out of any sexual misconduct he’s a meal ticket and Evan knew that.
“William, I know the industry, it’s filled with a lot of slime balls. I want to assure you that here at Drake, Liston, Parker, Dune, we pride ourselves on putting our clients first. As a show of good faith if you’re willing to sign with us I promise to get you a blockbuster by the end of the year. Spielberg is making another one of his infamous comebacks and I can see you as the leading man.” Evan cut himself off.
“Don’t answer now, think about it and let me know.”
Silence filled the room. William started at Evan. Evan wondered what he was thinking, William had the same look a crocodile has moments from snapping its prey from the edge of the water. His eyes were dead. He was impossible to read and this moment of silence felt like an eternity. Finally, the silence was broken.
“I’ll think about it.”
That was it. That was all he said in a two-hour meeting. Evan was pleased. It went better than the stories he’s heard.
Rodney collected the papers and knocked them against the table to organize them. “We’ll be in touch.”
They got up and left.
As soon as the doors closed he let out a deep breath. It felt like he was holding his breath for two hours. He was not one to set expectations but something told him he won the game.
He closed his eyes and enjoyed this moment. For the first time in a long time, there was something to celebrate. Suddenly there was a tap on the glass. Evan, startled, saw Mrs. Balston standing there waving her hands in her direction. She mouthed “emer-gen-cy.”
For a moment he felt on top of the world but as the words most famous physicist once said, “what goes up must come down”.
Evan opened the door and saw an ocean of eyeballs staring in his direction as if it was rehearsed. The first thing that popped into his mind was tragedy. His stomach sank. Did something happen to the kids? He wanted to die just thinking about it. His throat became sandpaper, his heart raced in his chest pulsing in his ears. His breathing became shallow, vision tunneled, dizziness came over him. His skin became cold and clammy as it crawled with goose pimples.
He was no longer human but an autopilot version of what he once was. Instinctively, he said, “What’s wrong?”
“You look pale. Let’s get you back to your office. You’ll want to be sitting for this.” Mrs. Balston said in a motherly tone.
Mrs. Balston escorted him to his office. Eyes followed him the whole way without trepidation of social queues. Whatever it was, politeness took a backseat to curiosity.
Mrs. Balston sat him down in his white Herman Miller chair, something he took pride in normally, but today? It was just a chair.
When he sat down the air leaving the foam let out a small hiss. He never noticed this before but in a hyper-aware state, he could watch the time between a fly’s wings flap. Mrs. Balston handed him a cold water bottle which he quickly slapped away. “I don’t want water, what happened?!”
Mrs. Balston pursed her lips and looked to the ceiling.
“It was the kids? Christ, please tell me they’re okay!”
She quickly interjected. “The kids are fine.”
He took a deep breath. For the second time today, he felt like a weight was lifted off his chest.
“It’s Heather.”
“Is she okay?”
“She’s fine.”
“Well, what is it then?”
“I think it’s best you see it for yourself.”
Mrs. Balston closed the blinds to his office and opened his laptop. On the screen was a video of Heather. Lipstick smeared behind a pound of caked-on foundation. Her mascara ran from her eyes like an escaped convict. Her eyes were bloodshot red and swollen.
She looked like she’s been crying for hours.
There was a big play button in the middle of the screen. He clicked it and the video started.
“WHAT THE FUCK!” screamed Evan. “Do you have any idea how this looks?!”
“Stop yelling!”
“Abusing you? What the fuc..I don’t even.”
He paused. He paced back and forth holding his head in his hands.
“What do I say? Do? Wha…”
He lowered his tone. Looking at her with a pain she’s never seen before Evan asked.
“What did I do to you? We barely sleep in the same bed.”
“You wouldn’t understand”
“Wouldn’t understand what?”
There was silence.
His eyes swelled with tears. “Please…please.”
He took a deep breath to collect himself.
“Please help me understand.”
Heather thought to herself how honest she really wanted to be. She knew telling the truth will hurt him but maybe it’s time he felt how he made her feel. “member two nights ago I posted a video about those fucks and their comments?”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Why did you tell people I wa..”
“Just fucking listen for once in your life.” Heather continued.
“Remember when I posted the video about the hate I receive online?”
“I’m sorry I don’t remember, I’m struggling to think about that right now.”
She continued.
“Well, that video backfired. This morning I was trending on Twitter.”
She paused for a moment to hold back tears “there were hashta..” she became choked up.
Heather took a deep breath to collect herself.
“What are you talking about?”
“They’re comparing me to Hitler! What don’t you understand?!” Heather said, pounding on Evans chest.
He grabbed her wrists to stop the beating.
“Have you lost your mind? Do I need to call Dr. Schwartz? Are you having another episode?”
He meant it sincerely but as the words left his mouth there was venom hidden that surprised even him.
Heather jumped back. “Just fucking listen!”
“You said I abused you!”
“I needed to win them back!”
The air became dead.
“What?” He leaned in.
“What did you just say?” He asked hoping he misheard.
“I needed to win them back. They could have done serious damage. I needed to think quick and people feel for a victim. I’m sorry.”
“Heath…Jesus…I…I need a minute.”
He stepped into the bathroom to splash cold water on his face.
He looked into the mirror and saw his skin pale as a ghost. The bags under his eyes weighed down his face to look like something out of his nightmares. He felt dizzy and disoriented.
He took a deep breath and let it out with a loud “whoosh.” Spraying water all over the sink and mirror. Something Heather normally complains about. He wished she would waltz in, In her purple négligée complaining “you never clean up after yourself” as she wipes down the mirror and counter. “Things were simpler before she became a “celebrity”. He wiped down the mirror and sink and stepped out of the bathroom more confused than angry. She was on her phone giggling to herself like a schoolgirl. She looked up at Evan grinning ear to ear.
“My post got five thousand likes!”
The rest of the papers appear to be missing with a note.
“Reese I have left the remainder of the notebook at the laboratory. I shall return January the 7th please have the reminder of the documents ready.
Your friend,
Thaddeus Botgore
Lorne Bronstein