Desiree

DESIREE

So George calls me at about 7 in the evening. He say’s, “Hi, Desiree...it’s George, from the audition earlier? Yeah. Hi! So due to an unfortunate accident, you’ve come into consideration for the lead role! How do you feel about that? Still interested?” My heart gallops to life at a thousand paces. Crashing waves upon crashing waves break within the ocean of my soul. Am I still interested? Do I still want to be somebody? Do I still want to escape to the morbidity and mediocrity of the middle class? You bet your f*****g a*s I’m still interested.

He schedules’ me to come in the next day for a read. 8th ave and 44th st. Time F*****g Square. Primetime! This was it. My chance to break free from my parent’s constant defecation over my dreams. Yeah, I was gonna be a f*****g actress! That’s right, I’m gonna make it at 22 without anyone’s help, or Daddies multi-million dollar bank account, or my mother’s supposed Hollywood connections! My sister is going to die from envy when she see’s my billboards and my magazines everywhere she goes…afterall, I  was always known to be the most beautiful between the two of us. I knew I was hot, and in this superficial world being ‘hot’ was your golden ticket into the chocolate factory. Everywhere you go, everyone you meet is ready to kill on command for you. All you need is a little talent in your pocket, and you can go all the way….

I make it up the 20th floor of the luxurious city skyscraper, and walk into a tiny studio rehearsal room with only a small wood table, a metal chair, a video camera, and George, my ticket to freedom, beside the camera. Not exactly what I was expecting. He shoots me a mischievous little smile.

“Desiree! You look gorgeous! Here have a seat,” he beckons me towards the chair. “Okay so today we’re going to do a little screen test that I can send over to casting directors, just to make sure you’ve got the right feel for the role. Just relax, and I’ll ask you a couple of questions, okay?” I coyly agree. A screen test? No f*****g problem. Id jump through rings of fire if it get’s me a movie deal.  

“Great! So your full name?”

   Desiree Carrow.

“Birthplace and year?”

  Longmont, Colorado, 1992

“Where did you study acting?”

  New World School Drama Conservatory

“Great. And what age did you lose your virginity?”

Wait, what? That couldn’t be right. He senses my trepidation and calmly continues, “Desiree, this role requires….some scenes of a sexual nature. Are you uncomfortable with that?”

Oh, right….I should have known. It’s fine, I assure him, and he continues his interview.

“How many sexual partners have you had?”

7

“Are you comfortable with nude scenes? Are you oral? Do you perform fellatio?”

...yes….

“Have you ever had multiple partners at once? Are you okay with orgy scenes?”

We finish, and I find my way to the nearest bathroom. That was more than I was expecting, but this is showbiz! To make it in Hollywood, you have to be okay with sex. It’s just how it goes. Sex is human nature, and sex sells tickets….everyone’s going to be so f*****g jealous of me...I find my way into the nearest bathroom stall, and search through my purse for my medicine. Oh Jack, you’re a goddamn angel! I pour out my movie star powder onto the toilet paper dispenser, and carve out a beautiful white himalayan mountain with my credit card, admiring the curves and ridges that move ever so delicately along eternities strip, white with the purity of dreams, white like the moon that sail’s overseas, white like the wings of the angels that come to claim us when we’ve passed along. The chemical odour suffuses through my nostrils, and synthetic traces of memories past surge my hunger until at last I can wait no longer and I BREEEAAATTHHHHEEEE in through my right nostril……..my lungs spread themselves like winds over hot desert sands, my eyes grow butterfly wings and roll to the back of my head. My heart stops for an instant, and time stands still……. Somewhere inside my brain, gears are clicking into place, molecules are f*****g molecules and releasing hormones, motes of stardust are dissolving into orbs of suns..I am home again. I open my eyes, breathe out, and feel my new self awaken. I put on my best cocaine sunglasses, step out of the bathroom, out of the building, and onto the hot busy New York City street filled with millions of my future fans…

I’m sitting in Lucky Star Cafe, when all of the sudden rain starts falling from a heavy padded sky. I watch the rain ceaselly crash against the empty street with the curiosity of a child. Somehow, it feels like it’s the first time I’ve ever seen rain. I can’t remember the last time I jumped in puddle. This would have to change. I fantasize that I am running wild and free in the rainstorm, drenched in careless abandon. The rain cleanses, the water relieves...years of stress, pain, disbelief, faithlessness...all is coming to an end, and washing away into the gutters of yesterdays discontent. For the first time in my life, I feel that life actually matters. That I matter. The reason I became an actress in the first place was to lose myself in the feeling of being alive, of being passionately alive….the blood boiling, energizing, spirit of your art flowing through you with every role you get, every line you say, every death you die…my waitress brings me my coffee, and suddenly the sun begins to shine.  I take a sip. It’s good. Dark and strong. Soft music is honeying out of the speakers. Life is for the living, and I plan to live the s**t out of it. F**k, I’m planning on living forever!

I make my way back to my SOHO apartment an hour later, and find my Mother quietly sitting on my bedroom sofa. S**t, I should have changed that f*****g lock! I close the door behind me.

“For f***s sake! Mom! What are you doing here?”

“Well, last I recalled I payed the rent for this place, birthed you, and fed and clothed you for years. I felt an inspection into my investments was long past due.”

She always spoke like our relationship was a f*****g business transaction. She inspects my my apartment with a discriminating eye.

“Yeah, it’s a mess. So what?”

“You can’t live like this, Desiree! It isn’t human! Our success in this world starts and ends with how successfully we live in our own homes.”

Like so many times before, interactions with my Mother always start off subdued, but methodically escalate into a full on atomic war. I’m going to need some ammunition to face this. I put my things down and head towards the bathroom.

“We need to talk, Desiree!”

But before we can talk I need to get high. There’s no way I’m facing her sober. I take a bump in each nostril in the bathroom and..ahhhhhhhhhhh... inspect my beautiful face, then bravely re-enter my living room, ready and armed to face whatever bullshit awaits.

“How’s your acting going?” she mockingly asks. I feel hardened disinterest flow through my veins like the drugs swimming in my brain.

“Excellent. I just landed a lead role, actually,”

“In what?”

“It’s in the preliminary stages of development...”
“So you don’t know anything about it?”
“It’s a passion project, Mom.”

“And you think passion pays the 2,500 dollars of rent for this place?”

“One day, Mother, it’ll pay for the mansion you won’t be invited into...”

Silence. We size each other up for the millionth time. After 1 heavy a*s minute, she speaks.

“We’re cutting off your finances. This dream of yours has gone on for long enough. Your father and I agree it’s time for you to go back to school and finish your law degree. Or you can get a real job and support yourself like every other kid in this city. That’s why I’m here, that’ all I came to tell you.”

I wasn’t expecting this. My heart is racing at a million revolutions a beat. I can barely contain my anger. Fires of hatred and malice and disgust swirl behind my watery eyes, and in an instant I release a barrage of unfiltered words in her direction.

“You think you’re money has any power over me! I don’t need anything from you. In fact, I’m proud to say everything I’ve ever done in my life I’ve done through my talent, my abilities, and my hard work! You’ve never done anything with your life! You never supported me in anything I’ve ever wanted! You think I want your s****y life? To work a day job like everyone else? I never want to be like you! You never became someone in this world, and now you hate to see that I’m actually succeeding! You are a f*****g hypocrite, Mother!”

She quietly picks up her purse, pulls out an airplane ticket, and starts heading towards the door.

“You have one month,” she throws the plane ticket onto the counter, “or you’re on your own.” She leaves and the door slam behind her gets the final word………………………...

So George calls me at about 7 that the evening. He tells me “Desiree! Darling! We loved your screen test!!! You are the ‘Esther Violet’ we’ve been looking for! Listen, we’re hosting an industry cocktail party tonight in Midtown. You have to make it! You’ll be our guest of honor! We’ll have a limo waiting for you in half an hour”

The best f*****g phone call of my life. The first of many. F**k you, Mom. F**k you so much. I put on my sexiest but not too sexy outfit, and rush out the door. Just like he said, there’s a f*****g limo waiting out front. I get in and we start off. Thoughts are racing through my mind like horses galloping through rings of fire, again and again and again. I get dizzy and wheezy have to hold my head up with my hands. I feel violently alive.

30 blocks later, I enter the swankiest apartment I’ve ever seen in my life. Spacious as all hell, and decked out like a Gucci spread. George greets me, and I’m surprised to find that there’s no one else around.

“Where is everyone?”
“It’ll be just us for a while. Here, have a drink, ” George smoothly hands me a whiskey sour.

“Lets talk. Let’s talk about you. Let’s talk about Desiree Carrow. How far do you want to go in this industry? In this world? What would you give for a shot at being the number one actress in the number one movie in America? Hmmm? It’s the chance of a lifetime Desiree, and I’m offering it to you! See there,” he motions towards a script on the table with ‘ICONS’ written as the headtitle, “..that’s the movie we’ll be producing. It’s a winner, Desiree. It’ll cement you as the new starlet in Hollywood, and make us all a lot of money. But, there are some scenes of sexual nature in it. You said you were okay with that right?”

“Yeah, if it’s for the art.”

“Exactly. We’ll our investors want...how should I put it...assurance? Assurance that you can meet the criteria of this role. We want to know that you can turn people on, and that you can do it very convincingly.”

“What are you saying?” I feel afraid, and am beginning to tremble, but try to keep my cool.

“Look over there, see that door? Behind it are 4 very powerful executives in this industry. They will make you a millionaire, an icon, over night. But first, we need something from you.” George laughs loudly, stops, then speaks, “Relax. I’m getting ahead of myself! Where are my manners! Bethany!” he calls out and from the adjacent room a topless maid enters holding a tray of….a tray holding a mountain of cocaine...

“Do you like cocaine, Desiree? I had a feeling you might. Thank you, Bethany,”

Bethany gives as warm as a smile as she can manage, but as an actress I can read right through it. It’s a f**k you.

“This line is for you…” He slides the silver tray over to me. I’ve never seen so much coke before.  “Relax, it’s okay. From now on, you can have all the cocaine you want,”

Well, this is Hollywood right? The lane of opulence and indulgence. I inhale cautiously. I don’t know how to feel, but before I can make up my mind the drug is forcing it’s way into my brain.  He fires a line up both nostrils, then stands up.

“Follow me…”

We make our way through the door that Bethany had come through, and I’m surprised to find the room is set up like a movie set. Cameras and lights are set up all focusing on a gilded bed, and four men are standing by each post.

“What is this?”

“This is your final screen test, Desiree. All you have to do is play along,” he unstraps my dress from my left shoulder, “and then you’ll be signed to a movie contract. Be smart, Desiree. This is how it goes, baby.”

Well, what could I do? I’d made it this far. I wasn’t about to prove my Mother right. I’m not a failure! One night of sacrifice, and I’ll be somebody. One night...and that’s it. It isn't too bad. I lay on the bed, stripped naked, and then then four men begin undress themselves. They are old, and fat, and ugly. One of them fingers my p***y, and I squirm with disgust.

“So moist and pretty,” he licks, “and tastes like heaven!”

Another one grabs his dick and presses it to my lips. It’s George.

“Open your mouth, Desiree. Open your mouth, and you’ll be a star.”

They f**k me for hours, in between violent binges on cocaine. I never knew it would be like this. I never thought I’d have to sell myself. I am regretting everything I’ve ever done and I want to die, but I keep looking ahead towards the light at the end of the tunnel. The dry tears in my eyes will birth the new ocean of my life. After this, thing’s will never be the same. Another guy enters and immediately starts f*****g me... It hurts, but the drugs have numbed all feeling. I’m ashamed, but the drugs have numbed that too. I can’t feel anything. I guess nothing in this world comes without a price. I guess we all get fucked sometime, one way or another. I remember my daydream about running wild in the rainstorm. At last, I’m free. All of my pain is washing away into the gutters of yesterdays discontent...

Reviews

[KA Sharp]

The voice of this character is so strong and so real, that while I cannot say I like her as a person, I still feel overwhelmingly sympathetic to her.
More than that, you've managed to capture these emotions to point where it makes me shiver to read it. Fantastic writing!