Publicity!: A Burning Mistake

After rapper Lil Holler posts a picture of him burning the American Flag as protest to Police Brutality, he hires Hollywood Crisis Manager Laurel Quinn to "fix" the scandal.

 

“Most of the successful people in Hollywood are failures as human beings.”

-          Marlon Brando

 

Publicity!

“Here at Publicity! My goal is to make sure every client no matter where you fall in Hollywood: A-List, B-List, C-List or D, have long lasting careers without suffering the bumps and roads of scandals that plague every turn in Hollywood. My name is Laurel Quinn and I am the Head of ‘Publicity!’. I founded this company after my mother, the late Oscar Award Winning Actress Elizabeth Quinn, suffered a scandal because of a jealous costar and committed suicide. Ever since that day, I have vowed to protect the reputation of these celebrities and turn their scandals around. With the help of my staff, no scandal is too big for me to handle! So give me a call and let Publicity!, handle your scandal!”

 

November 10th, 2017

Laurel Quinn tapped the end of her pink crystal pen against the edge of her chestnut desk. Seated in front of her was the famous rapper Lil Holler, wearing his infamous thick golden chains and holding his customized fitted cap on his lap.

He had heard many stories about this auburn haired woman all throughout San New City. She was a force to be reckoned with, but she always got the job done.

Many people dubbed her the ‘Ice Queen’, a term the Rapper was sure would offend the middle-aged woman if someone called her that to her face.

The silence between the two had been present for at least three minutes now. Laurel knew why he called to set up an appointment with her, she just wanted to hear him explain the reasoning behind it himself…sadly the man that won five Grammy Awards and spent most of his career yelling at the top of his lungs in every song; wasn’t saying a word. He sat there giving her an apologetic look and gulped trying to find the proper words to say.

She leaned back in her throne like office chair and flipped her hair back, “Should I explain to you why you’re here or are you going to finally open up that trap of yours and tell me yourself?”

The rapper licked his lips and began to speak, “Aight so this is what had happened-“

Laurel slammed the pen on her desk causing Lil Holler to flinch and stop speaking. “If you’re going to address me, I advise you to take that Rapper façade-you fool the world with and throw it out. You will address me like the Harvard Graduate you actually are and use proper English words.”

Lil Holler let out a frustrated sigh and he gave the woman a nod. He cleared his throat and continued on, “My apologies Ms.Quinn. I was going to say I screwed up.”

“Screwed up?” Laurel repeated slowly. “No. A screw up is getting a groupie pregnant because you were too stupid to put on a condom. What you did was insult not only your intelligence but an entire nation.”

Before the rapper could open his mouth to defend his actions, Laurel grabbed a small remote control off her desk and pressed the power button turning on the large television screen behind her. On the large screen, was a picture of the rapper holding up an American Flag that was set on fire and smiling at the camera. The headline on the screen read:

“NYC Rapper Lil Holler Betrays America and Insults The Troops”

Lil Holler shifted uncomfortably on the chair as the news segment continued playing with the volume on mute. Laurel noticed how uneasy he was and she turned off the screen and placed the remote back down on her desk. “Can you please, please tell me what the hell was going through your head when you not only burned the American flag, but also took a stupid selfie doing it?”

“Listen…it all started when Presidential Elect Victor Reber won the damn election. I-I mean who votes for a racist?!”

“And instead of creating a fake profile on Twitter to complain about it-like everyone else does- you decide to open a can of stupidity and share it with your eight million followers?”

Lil Holler clenched his jaws together, “I was protesting.”

“Protesting what, Curtis?”

“Call me Lil Holler.” The rapper corrected her.

Laurel looked at Lil Holler for a few seconds shocked he would prove his stupidity even more by demanding her to call him a name that made him sound like an idiot. “Yeah I’m not doing that.” She stated. “As I was saying, what the hell were you protesting that you had to burn a flag?”

 “Police Brutality.”

“If you want to protest Police Brutality complain about it on BMZ Live! or text during a Presidential Speech, I don’t care! But you do not burn a flag! It is seen as disrespectful to everyone including your fans- which is ironic considering all you do is rap about killing snitches and calling women ‘w****s and s***s’- but that’s beside the point.”

“The last time I checked, the desecration of the flag is a legal act that is protected by the First Amendment. This means I cannot be imprisoned.”

Laurel flipped her shoulder length hair back and smiled at him. “You aren’t going to jail Curtis, nor are you facing any jail time. This….act of ‘Righteousness’ cost you endorsement deals. Nike, Snapple, those ridiculously huge headphones, and any and every deal you had in the works are gone. Poof! They all dropped you once this photo went viral. I am not your agent; I do not care what your intentions are! I am a Crisis Manager, Your fixer. I’m here to make sure you come up unscathed from this mess.”

Curtis aka Lil Holler grew angry at her words. He didn’t think about the business side of his act and quite frankly he didn’t care. The whole purpose of that photo was to show how screwed up America was now that Republican nominee Victor Reber won the Presidency.

Although he knew there wasn’t much of a connection between Reber and the police shootings that took place six months ago, he needed his voice heard and he proved it by burning the American flag and taking the picture to show his fans and the entire world how he truly felt.

Curtis took in a deep breath, “I don’t need them! As long as my fans support me, that is all that matters. I have three songs currently playing in commercials. One song is even the theme to that stupid show about those girls finding their killer or some crap.”

Laurel gave him a nod. “I highly doubt your manager even called you since this whole scandal went down; as it’s pretty evident you’re wasting my time and yours. However, those commercials have dropped your songs and they are replacing it with new songs by that Canadian Rapper. As for that show, more than twenty thousand fans have signed a petition to boycott the show until they take your song off as its theme. They’re sending the petition over to the studio execs at MBZ as we speak.”

“Wait! What!? Someone created a petition to remove my song?”

“Yes, clever little buggers. They can’t afford to move out of their parent’s basement or let alone actually find a job, but they can sit behind their computer screens and create meaningless petitions.”

Curtis shook his head nervously and he shifted in the chair again. “So what do I do now? I mean you are my Crisis Manager after all. You’re supposed to make these types of things go away!”

“I am well aware of my job title thank you for the reminder.”

There was a knock on the door that caused Curtis to nervously to look at Laurel and he watched as she rose up from the chair and made her way toward the door. He couldn’t help but admire the woman’s hourglass figure that was made possible by the skin tight red and black dress she had on.

Laurel opened the door to find a man no older than thirty years old standing in the doorway holding a manila colored envelope in his hands. “Are these the photographs I asked for?”

The tall man gave her a nod and smiled “And then some.”

“Perfect. Thank you Tony.” She took the envelope, turned back facing her desk and began to walk toward it once again. “Curtis, do you remember Dave Alex, the former mayor of Singler City?”

The rapper thought to himself about the name and he shook his head never once hearing it before. “No I don’t.”

Laurel continued to walk around her desk and she sat down on the chair. “Well Dave Alex was running for Mayor and he painted this image with his beautiful family. Wife, kids and white picket fences. You know the same old cliché bull crap closeted Republicans use to get votes. Well, back in the day he and I were engaged. This was in college, where I clearly had no self-esteem. Anyway, he did this press conference a few months after being elected, where he referred to me as -and I quote- ‘A Blonde Cancerous woman who turned my life upside down until I met my current wife’.”

“Oh my God.” Curtis let out a low gasp.

“Right?” Laurel asked. “During those days I wasn’t even a blonde!” She shook her head smiling to herself not entirely sure if Curtis understood her dark humor. “Anyway, after that little comment I grew offended and wanted to give my dear ex-fiancé a congratulatory present. Well, Tony-the man who just knocked on my door- is very gifted with his ability to manipulate photos and make them seem real.”

“You mean like Photoshop?”

“In a way yes. But he doesn’t use that program. He uses something a bit more advanced. Something that fools those geeks in the FBI who analyzes the photos, it shows no traces of manipulation. So getting back on track, someone leaked a photo of dear old Mayor Alex sniffing cocaine and hanging out with prostitutes the same day his third son was born. That made the people of Singler City very upset. So upset they decided to impeach him and his wife forced him to go to rehab.”

If this was a cartoon, Laurel was sure animated exclamation marks would be dancing over Curtis’ head.

The rumors he heard from random people in the industry were correct. She was a ruthless woman who would stop at nothing to get what she wanted.

“Y-You leaked those photos?”

“Oh Curtis. What is that phrase you say in all your songs?” Laurel rubbed her chin thinking of the phrase and within a second, she snapped her fingers in excitement. “Ah yes! Now I remember ‘Snitches get shot’.” She flashed him a devious smirk that would make even the Devil himself nervous.

He cleared his throat again and asked, “But what does this have to do with my current situation?”

“Great question!” She opened the manila envelope. “Well, Tony and I went over ways to make this all go away and we came up with a marvelous solution. Here is our version of the original photo.” She took out a picture and handed it to the rapper.

He lowered his eyebrows at what he was seeing.

The picture he uploaded online was the same as the one he was currently looking at. In the photo, he wore the same white tank top and the same black fitted cap with his logo on it but instead of sweatpants,  he had on shorts, and instead of a burning flag in his hands, he held a trout as if he just fished it out of the local river.

“What the hell is this?! Nah man. No one will believe that!” he stated as he pushed the picture away from him.

Laurel was impressed at how handsomely athletic this man was and yet how stupid he was coming across at the same time. “Have you checked your phone recently? You are trending number Two on Twitter. You would’ve been trending number one but the Queen of England was fictitiously killed off again.”

“I’m trending number two because of this damn scandal!”

“Mmm, check again.” She stated leaning back on the chair.

Curtis quickly pulled out his cellphone and tapped the touch screen to discover he had more than ninety-eight Tweet notifications and one hundred messages. He clicked on the notification icon and scrolled through the pages in shock and awe at what he was reading. He noticed one tweet had ‘Lil Holler Makes A Statement About Hacking’ and he lowered his eyebrows.

“You released a statement on my behalf?”

“Mhmm.” Laurel replied with a smirk still plastered on her pore less face.

The rapper clicked on the link and read the statement aloud.

“I want to thank my fans for their response both positive and negative regarding the picture that was uploaded earlier. It breaks my heart that anyone in their right mind would believe that I would burn a flag- a symbol of this Country, a symbol of everything the brave Men and Women are fighting for overseas, that you all would believe I would do something both so sinister and vile leaves me silent and hurt. I have been vocal in my community for years and believe me when I say I did not burn the American Flag. I had the FBI and local officials look into the picture and it was manipulated by hackers-“ Curtis stopped reading and he looked at Laurel. “The FBI? Wouldn’t they deny this claim?”

“They can. However, it’s amazing at what people will do to ensure their secrets never get out. Now please continue reading you’re getting to the good part.”

Curtis nodded. He was sorry he even asked the question and he continued reading the statement.

“- Apparently, some very angry people were livid that my name was tossed into the Inauguration pool to perform for Presidential Elect Victor Reber, that they called me a ‘Traitor’, ‘A liar’ and even used racial slurs to describe my intentions. My name was tossed into the hat to perform but I never once held any interest to do so. Yes, throughout his campaign, he had said some very offensive things that made me question where his loyalty was, but I would never disrespect something as special as our American Flag.

I will continue being vocal in my community against the Police Brutality, we have been facing for the past year, for as long as I am alive. I want to thank you all for your understanding. Below I have posted the real picture. If you are going to try to photoshop a picture, do not do it erasing the biggest Trout I ever caught! LOL!”

Curtis finished reading the response and he began to reread it again in his mind. This was a beautifully written response. It sounded just like him, every word used were some he would actually have used himself.

“This...is great but I’m letting my people down by stating the flag burning wasn’t real!”

“What people?” Laurel asked. “When this photo went viral eighteen hours ago, you went from Eight million followers to nine hundred. Then before I even started typing out that beautifully worded public statement, that number dropped down to two hundred followers. Face the fact Curtis, this isn’t about politics or race. At the end of the day, it’s about you staying on top of your career. I get that you want to be Robin Hood, I do. But put all that anger into your next album, because as a woman, I ought to castrate you for calling us ‘B*****s, S***s and W****s’.”

As if the pain was real, Curtis placed his cap over his crotch and nodded. He looked back down at the phone screen and swiped it again. “According to my followers now, I only have five hundred.”

“Give it time. Everyone is still working and in school. Around noon and six the news will pick up on this mishap and address it.”

Curtis placed the phone in his pocket and he rose up from the chair. “You really came through for me. Thank you so much!”

Laurel gave him a sincere smile and nodded her head watching him. “That’s my job. Now, the next time you’re angry…stay away from Flags.”

Curtis chuckled and he turned toward the office door and opened it, he walked out of her office and Laurel couldn’t restrain from letting out a deep sigh of relief at another job well done.

Tony re-entered her office and leaned against the doorway.

“Everything worked out?” he asked his British accent making it obvious he was concerned for her wellbeing. She flashed him a smile nodding her head.

“Were there any doubts?-” She paused for a few seconds and licked her lips smirking. “How would you like to make Twenty Five Thousand dollars?”

Tony straightened his posture and looked at his boss. “I’m listening.”

 

Nine Hours Later @ Laurel Quinn’s Apartment (6:40pm):

Laurel walked out of her bedroom wearing grey sweatpants, a baggy pink sweater and her auburn hair was placed in a messy bun. She just got home over twenty minutes ago and couldn’t wait to kick off her stiletto shoes and designer dress, so she could put on something more comfortable and relaxing.

She walked over to her kitchen and grabbed a glass of red wine off the counter.

She poured a little into a glass cup and took a small sip enjoying the bittersweet taste that was now travelling down her throat.

Her concentration was cut short when her cellphone began to chirp. She placed the glass of wine on the counter and walked over to her living room where her phone laid on her black and red sofa. She grabbed the phone, read the screen, and saw Tony sent her a text message. With a tap on the screen, the text opened and on it read, ‘Turn on the news now’.

Laurel quickly turned on her large plasma television screen that hung on the wall in her living room. The screen turned on to the news, which showed an image of Lil Holler and underneath the picture was the caption:

“NYC Based Rapper Lil Holler Gunned Down”.

She sat down on the sofa and turned up the volume wishing she had brought her glass of wine from the counter with her.

“That’s right Linda! According to the San New Police Department, Curtis Lucas who goes by the name Lil Holler was coming out of a meeting with his Record Label when another car pulled up to his Black Mercedes Benz and opened fire. From what I have been told, Lucas was shot twice in his right arm and is listed in stable condition. Now this comes just hours after Curtis released a public statement that his Twitter account was hacked and a manipulated photo surfaced of him burning the American Flag. Investigators have detained a person of interest and there is no word yet if this individual was behind the shooting-“

Laurel smirked at the information she just heard and she remembered the conversation she had with Tony in her office.

 

Nine Hours Earlier:

“Were there any doubts?-” Laurel paused for a few seconds and licked her lips smirking. “How would you like to make Twenty Five Thousand dollars?”

Tony straightened his posture and looked at his boss. “I’m listening.”

“I need you to help Lil Holler gain more followers.” Laurel stated signaling the 6’1 man to close the office door so they could talk privately.

Tony closed the door behind him and he gave his boss a nod listening carefully to her words.

“Followers as in bullets or stabbing?”

“Bullets. But I need you to make sure he doesn’t die. So try to aim for his arm. Right arm, he’s a lefty so this won’t affect his ability to write.”

Tony wasn’t like most men in San New. He was tall, dark and handsome and while he was born in the United Kingdom; he had many secrets that prevented him from returning home. Secrets that would end his life if they ever got out, those same secrets that made Laurel hire him without any hesitation.

“If I didn’t know any better Quinn, I’d say you’re hiring me as your assassin rather than your assistant.”

Laurel flashed him a smirk and flipped back her hair. “It was your exact assassination skills that brought you here. It was also your poor lapse of judgment that made you assume I was an easy target. Now? I’m just...promoting you temporarily to do what you do best. Except this time, you’re not killing anyone. You’re just helping a dear client with his unfortunate situation.”

Tony gave the beautiful yet mysterious woman a smirk and he straightened his tie. “Sounds reasonable.”

“Great! I’ll wire you the rest of the money when the job is done. “

 

 

Laurel snapped out of her daydream and she glanced back over at the television screen as the blonde reporter continued speaking.

“Lucas has been receiving an outpour of support from his fans, other celebrities as well as local leaders.”

She turned off the television screen and looked down at her phone. She tapped a few buttons and smiled as the screen read, “Transfer Completed”.

“You’re welcome.” She placed the phone in the right pocket of her sweatpants and got up from the sofa. She made her way back to the kitchen and grabbed the glass of red wine and took another sip smiling to herself. Her right hand gripped the glass of wine as her left hand grabbed a quarter out of her purse.

Laurel spun on her heels and walked out of her kitchen turning off the lights. She made her way down the long hallway of her three-bedroom apartment coming to a halt at a white door. She reached out her left hand and twisted the crystal doorknob slowly opening it.

The room was dark but the light from the hallway crept in revealing a baby’s crib, a blue banner hanging on the wall with the name ‘Elijah Zachary Quinn’ printed on it and a few stuffed animals. Her bare feet made no noise as she walked further into the bedroom, turning her attention to a chestnut dresser.

On the dresser were a few diapers, a picture of an eight-month-old baby smiling and looking happy and a glass container that had no more than Twenty-Three dollars of quarters inside of it.

Laurel dropped the quarter inside of the container and she quietly walked over to the crib. Inside of the crib was a stuffed furry bear that wore a small t-shirt that read, ‘Mommy’s Little Angel’. She used her left hand again to press the bear’s stomach and it spoke.

“Hey Eli, it’s mommy! I just wanted to sing to you before you fell asleep. Are you ready? Okay here it goes, ‘Hush little baby don’t you cry, Mommy’s gonna bake you an Apple Pie. And once that Apple Pie’s all gone. Mommy’s gonna bake you another one.’ Shhh my little Angel. Go to sleep and know Mommy will always love you.”

Laurel’s hazel eyes watered as she heard the voice recording she made for Elijah for his first Christmas. She wanted him to know that when he slept in his crib at night, she was always going to be there with him, even if she was only two doors down.

She missed her baby and she missed holding him. She missed his laugh, his cry…..the way he would speak to her as if he was actually speaking a language she could understand.

She took a deep breath and left the room closing the door behind her.

Sleep was the only thing on her mind right now. The only thing she wanted to do and the only thing she needed in order to stay sane.

She continued walking down the hall entering her spacious bedroom. She placed the glass of wine on her nightstand and took out her cellphone from her pocket as she sat on the edge of her king sized bed when her cellphone began to ring.

Any normal person would check their caller ID to see who was calling them, but she knew it had to be business rather than anyone of great importance. She swiped the answer button and placed the phone on her right ear.

“This is Laurel Quinn!”

“Hello Miss Quinn. This is Meryl Hopkins.”

“Meryl Hopkins? As in Six Oscars-Three Tonys-and five Emmys- Meryl Hopkins?” Laurel’s tone wasn’t filled with praise but rather of curiosity. She grew up watching her and singing her songs. This was Hollywood’s royalty!

“You are correct. I am calling because I am in need of your services. My husband of five years has decided to divorce me. In doing so he has threatened to reveal all of my personal secrets to any media outlet that would pay him the highest amount of money.”

“Sounds like a keeper.” Laurel responded with sarcasm drenched in every word. She never knew the actress was married as she always kept her life private, so initially this shocked her more than anything else. “Did you two sign a pre-nup and did your lawyer make him sign a confidentiality clause? “

“No and No. I know what you must be thinking Miss Quinn. But I am very old fashioned and I believe love is love. Love isn’t about who gets money or when a marriage ends. Or if it ends. I was a fool I know, but I really loved him.”

Laurel rubbed her forehead trying not to sound too frustrated or irritated. “Okay. How about you swing by my office tomorrow and we can discuss this further.”

“That sounds delightful!” Meryl stated, as her tone was pleasant and kind. Very reminiscent to an elderly neighbor who would bake chocolate chip cookies on the weekend. “But there’s something you should know Miss Quinn-“

“Please call me Laurel.”

“Okay, Laurel. Well my husband and I met on the set of a movie I did called ‘Matters of The Art’. We laid eyes on one another and that was love. He and I have been together ever since.”

“Sounds romantic truly. But what does this have to do with the situation?”

“Oh yes...well, my husband is...how do I say this without sounding-okay, well if the identity alone of my husband becomes public...my image will be tarnished forever.”

Laurel lowered her eyebrows at the statement. “Why? Who is he? Is he already married?”

“No...You see Laurel…my husband….just turned twenty two yesterday.”

 Without a word, Laurel knew she wasn’t going to be welcoming sleep into her life, anytime soon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

End

Author's Note

I hope you enjoyed this story. I will be posting new shorts of 'Publicity!' every other day.