July 9th

Thursday, March 7th
My hand found it's way to the attention-seeking alarm clock on my bedside table. I wiped the drool from my mouth and hid myself under my baby pink comforter. My phone suddenly began to ring, spewing J-Lo's "I'm Real," that Marcus set for himself.
"Hello?" I answered groggily, clearing my throat.
"Kristina? You got the part!" My English agent screamed in my ear. "You got the fuckin' part! They adore you! I scheduled a hair, wax, nail, facial…well, basically a whole spa day for you to look your absolute best. You're going to be bloody huge, I'm so thrilled for you…" He kept rambling as I collapsed back into my pillow in awe. Finally this day has come. Fingers crossed to no more Dove commercials, shampoo commercials, pub ads, etc…I was beginning to get fed up with living paycheck to paycheck, not knowing when my next gig would come along. I also work a 9-5 waitress job, and am going to school full time in pursuit of a psychology degree. I am constantly swamped, with one thing after the next.
"Hello? Did you get all that? You have a screen test tomorrow at eight in the morning. A car will pick you up later today at noon, be outside. Bring flip flops and an extra pair of panties!"
"Okay. Wait, where am I going?" I asked still amazed that I was being 'picked up' in a 'car'.
"To the spa! You have your first screen test tomorrow!"
"Yeah, okay, I will be downstairs." I said with exaggerated diction.
"I am so happy for you, love." Marcus said sincerely and hung up. Although he knew how thankful I was, I wish I had thanked him for all he has done. I met him when I moved to London, he was the first agent I contacted out of twenty or thirty. I lucked out, most of them are conniving vultures. Marcus is probably the gayest and most flamboyant person alive. Also the most honest and caring. And he always smells good, so that's nice. He's twenty-eight and only dates other black men, preferably Americans which surprisingly are not hard to find here. Like…at all.
Friday, March 8th
"We really just love your whole look. We love you…" I thanked the ever-so-enthusiastic Dawn, the director, repetitively. "I kept bringing you up to Donnie here the day you auditioned, and I just can't get enough of you; Your forties hair and red lips and those legs!" I laughed uncomfortably.
"We also adore your accent, you're from Chicago, correct?" Donnie, the curly-haired producer, asked. He had on an evergreen polo and light wash jeans, still stuck in the nineties.
I nodded. "Yes, the suburbs. But I lived downtown for half a year and loved it."
"What drew you to London?" He asked. A strawberry blonde curl shook in front of his forehead.
"It's my Grandmother's favorite place to visit, so she suggested I go, and I was here traveling and just decided to stay. I really love it." I smiled sincerely.
"Well we're glad you do. So let's get started, yeah? If you could just sit still for a moment, Ben will adjust the camera to you."
My new character was named Mary, who was crazy. I mean literally crazy, as in schizophrenic. For some reason I latched onto her character as soon as I received the script. I embodied her well, I was her. I think there's a part in all of us who just wants go fucking nuts, or is already nuts, for varying reasons. She fulfilled that within me immediately. So I went fucking nuts.
Tuesday, July 9th
We shot the film in fourteen weeks. It was released July first, and my life has since flipped upside down. Over a million tickets sold, millions of dollars made by a million people all watching me. I had a manager, make up artist, hair and fashion stylists, publicist, booking agent, all of it. I was suddenly able to go shopping without worrying if I had enough money on my card. I've been able to really buy groceries. I casually flew my family to London to visit. The classic rags to riches theme, but I was trying my hardest to prevent the "fall from grace" part.
"Playing a schizophrenic high schooler in "Mary," today's guest has risen to absolute stardom within a matter of days…Please welcome Kristina Thomas!"
I felt my heart palpitate as I walked towards Ellen Degeneres. I couldn't believe where I was. I took her hands in both of mine.
"It is so wonderful to meet you, really!" I said in her ear, over the applauding and screaming crowd.
"Your movie was amazing." she smiled. We both sat as the room settled.
"Well welcome! I know you must be extremely busy with promotional stuff so thank you for being here, a lot of people wanted you here."
I laughed. "Yeah I'm exhausted but thank you, I can't believe I'm actually here."
The interview went on all like all the others I have been doing…They ask questions, I'm super awkward, I want to crawl in a hole and die.
"Do you have anythin' fancy or do we need to pick something up?" Marcus looked at me as a driver took us down through L.A. towards our hotel.
"Why?" I asked.
"We're going to a really nice dinner tonight with some mates of mine," He paused and stared at me.
"Yeah Sir, can you pull over here? Pick us up in front of Chanel in an hour." The driver pulled over and we slid out. Marcus knew L.A. better than London. He managed actors here when he was starting out as an agent, but hated it so he moved back home.
"Leeeeet's go toooo…" He murmured to himself for twenty seconds as he looked around. "I have faith in Dolce." He pulled me down Rodeo Drive.
I was not getting use to spending thousands of dollars on single items. I did it easily, I will blow whatever money you give me in ten minutes. But I wasn't getting use to it, I had trouble with my new reality. We ended up choosing a fifteen-hundred dollar pink dress from Dolce & Gabbana. I chose six-hundred and fifty dollar white Prada pumps to go along with it. He then took me to Chanel, and we casually bought ten thousand dollars worth of jewelry. I felt dizzy. I was use to maybe five hundred from a Dove commercial, granting me rent for the month with a few loaves of bread and some fruit.
"Is it normal to feel bad after this? I feel bad." I pouted on the way to our hotel. I'm sure the rest of the world would feel no such thing after shopping like that.
"I suppose it's normal, but don't feel bad. You earned this stuff. Just stay grateful, do not become your money. You are still as wonderful without it." Wise words. I thought about them hard so I wouldn't forget them.
~
"How much do you think they pay him to stand there?" I whispered to Marcus while his friends looked over the menu. They were all famous managers and agents. He kept his eyes on the list of thousand dollar wines.
"Thousands I'm sure." I stared at the two empty chairs across from me.
"Is Paul on his way?" The voluptuous red-head asked.
Marcus checked his Rolex. "He said he'd probably be running late, he's bringin' Harry along so you know how that goes." Everyone laughed. I didn't get it. Seconds later, who I assumed was Paul, walked in. Everyone stood immediately, beginning to yell and hug. I stood as well, awaiting to be introduced.
"Paul you know who this is," Marcus started.
The Irishman took my hand, "What a pleasure, you're excellent to watch." I thanked him. Marcus leaned over as we all sat, his friends began to reminisce.
"Paul is the tour manager for Once Direction, you know them right?" Just then, the room exploded yet again. This time with the name "Harry" flying everywhere. A familiar face appeared. I knew his name was Harry, and I knew he was in One Direction. I also knew that he was the only boy in the group I knew of. He had already begun a conversation with everyone while they sat down, him across from me.
"Harry, don't be rude," Paul urged. "This is Kristina Thomas, Marcus manages her." He looked to my eyes for the first time very intently. "Hello," he nodded politely as he stood to reach for my hand. He shook it gently. Butterflies fluttered. He was perfect, his face was literally perfect. Our eyes met again as he sat back down. A pianist was suddenly at the piano in the corner of the room, beginning to play soft notes as the appetizers were served. I could feel him watching me as I sipped my water. We all began talking about everything that was going on with ourselves…me and the movie, Harry and his music, everyones clients, etc. They were all genuine people, I could tell. I knew those were hard to find in this business, so I made sure they all knew how glad I was to meet them. As I turned to Harry, he spoke before me.
"Are you going out after this?" It got awkward, courtesy of yours truly.
"Um…" I looked to my hands which were clenched to each other at my stomach.
"I was wondering if you wanted to go to this club thing with my friends and I."
"I was actually just gonna go back to my hotel and rest, I'm so tired…probably watch Dr. 90210 and order all the cake that room service offers." More awkwardness.
"Um." I hate my life. Gonna go step into traffic now, bye.
He laughed. "That show is obscene, I don't know why I watch it." Am I doing this? Am I about to do this? This is happening. Is this weird?
"I mean…you can, like…come…if you want?" My stomach dropped. I probably need to go on Dr. 90210 now and get a tummy tuck. At least I can afford it. He's looking at me. Did he answer me? Did I just stop talking? Wait…
He nodded. "Sure."

Notes

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