Chapter 1
June 18, 2017
08:15pm
“What’d you mean you can’t make it!” Curious gazes slide towards me at the outburst “fuck off.” I cuss under my breath, but hurried away. It’s embarrassing enough that I wore a revealing dress to a casual dinner party but add trying to conspicuously slide it over my exposed thighs and I’m seconds away from utter disheavelment- I have no idea how I know that word.
This is what i get for making a total fool of myself back there.
“Sarah? Are you still there?” She asks, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes and smile fondly, despite the current circumstance. I heard loud voices at the end of the line and asked curiously “What’s all that noise? Did something happen?”
“Tamina’s still on set. We’ve been reshooting her scenes for the past two hours.” I could feel the exhaustion in her voice. Who the hell-
I groan, equally just as frustrated- maybe even more “I’m sick and tired of this. Of her. She thinks you're some sort of a root or something. You have a family.”
“That’s what happens when you have more money than sense. But trust me, I’m good as long as I get that paycheck. Plus, I’m very patient.”
I didn’t doubt that for second. I’ve always known Patricia to be one in a million. And no, what I’m about to say has nothing to do with our friendship but she so happens to be one of the most resilient people I’ve ever met. It was either her resilience keeping her in the clutches under the due ch s of pain; Tamina Johnson, or it was something else. Something we rarely spoke about, but I just felt the need to address.
There’s that feeling again; my heartbeat racing. “If it’s about the money Pat, you know I’m, uhm, always here to- I’m always here to help.”
Now a safe distance away, the sound of chirping crickets, barking dogs and dull tunes were much clearer in the defeaning silence that followed my words.
“Hello?” Nothing “I know you’re still there. I can hear you breathing and it’s creepy.” Still nothing, and for some reason, I broke “I knew you were going to do this. You know, shutting me out like this- it stings.”
She laughs. I stop in my tracks, but she keeps laughing outrightly.
“Did I- am I missing something?”
“Oh my goodness you sound so scared! Am I really that bad of a friend?”
“No, it’s not- actually it’s just that whenever I bring up money, we end up in a fight and you don’t talk to me for weeks and..” and it hurts me and I cry- and I’m not ready to reveal that part
“You just proved my point, genius. Look, you shouldn’t be scared to tell me stuff that are important. I know you have my best interest at heart even when I’m being.. unbearable. What I did to deserve a friend like you I’m not so sure, but it must be something really good.” When she sighs again, I could feel genuine relief through the screen “And I’m sorry. About all of it- the ghosting, the attitude. It’s just annoying sometimes, you know. That you think money can solves everything. But I get that’s just how rich people are, and I should’ve been more understanding of that.”
To say I was shocked would be using the mildest word in the English dictionary. I know a few seconds had passed while I stood frozen under the watchful night sky. Her distorted voice pulls me from my trance. “Yeah, I’m still here. Sorry. I had this really strange dream where you apologized to me.”
She simply snorts. Then asks “So, how’s the party going? I’m guessing you finally got to see Vincent Goodman after fangirling for years.”
The man in question was a film prodigy, retiring from the industry after forty whole years! Talk about love for the art. It’s safe to classify it as a ‘leave while people are still clapping’ situation seeing as newer project awaited him in the coming years. And yes, I do worship him.
“Yeah, I saw him. I- It was cool.”
“Did you take photos?”
For an eighteen year old aspiring actress, just being in the same proximity as the Vincent Goodman even if it were at his retirement party.. that is- for lack of a better word- a dream come true. A golden opportunity I won’t let slip away "Obviously. I bet people were too scared to cut me in line. I was manic.”
That should’ve been where it ended though, so that I could replay that memory, albeit embarrassing, for years to come. Still, I had a feeling it’s that displeasing encounter afterwards that would take the reigns very my thoughts.
My mood returns to it’s foulness which Pat quickly catches onto.
“Something happened. Wait.. was he rude to you? Did he make you feel like dirt-”
“No no no” I cut her off “thats- that’s so far from the truth you don’t even know.” i made a complete fool of myself, practically grovelling at Mr Goodman's feet as though desperate for a role that i was still denied
"I'm still not sure why you're doing any of this? Your mom is a god in the industry and there's your dad who's also a big deal. You have it all. One phone call and your wishes come true. There's no need to intentionally go throigh the things you do. I dont get it."
She was right in all things except one "I don't. Have it all, that is. Its like you said; money doestnt solve everything. I know my parents can help and they want to but i want to do thi. To achieve my dreams on my own terms." I had the sudden urge to ckear my throat, so I do. "You should gonback to work. I don’t want you to g in trouble with your psycho boss.”
From the ruffling of clothes, I could tell she turned "She’s very busy at the moment- yelling at unsuspecting victims, so we’re good for now.”
“Wow, that sounds..” I pause for dramatic effect “very unconvincing.”
She groans “Fine. But you better have the story ready by tomorrow and with interest.”
“Aye aye, journalist Patricia.” I respond with smock salute knowing she could tell by the stump of my feet.
We said our goodbyes and hung up. There were a few other things I would get around to telling her- eventually. So, technically that wasn’t a lie. This would just be stacked amongst the list.
As I turn to head back, my phone rings in my hands. Thinking it was Pat, I quickly answered. “Yeah, pat?” Instead of a response all I get is a static sound and heavy breathing “hello? Pat?” Nothing. I checked the caller ID and a chill washed over me “I know there's someone there, I hear you breathing. Who the fuck are you? Answer or I’ll hang up.” I could still hear the steady intake of breath behind the static noise and when nothing was said, I did as promised.
“Should’ve checked the ID first.”
I really should have. I stare at the unknown numbet, wondering if it were him. The anonymous pervert? First it was strange cryptic text message, now, it’s creepy calls? Despite how severally I’ve blocked him, he still found a way.
I think it’s time I told my parents, especially mom- even though we werent on speaking terms right now. She would know how to handle this sort of thing having been in the spotlight almost all her life. Can you believe it? I never realized how much I truly missed her up until this moment. If only I hadn't acted out and stubbornly pursued my goal- which were farfetched to begin wth- and actually listened to her, maybe I wouldn’t have ended up making a fool of myself in front of Jessy and her friends. I must've looked pathetic, practically grovelling at her feet to be casted in her new movie.
So, like a coward, I sent her a voicemail.
“Hi mom. I know you're still upset about the way I spoke to you and the things I said. I just wanted you to see things from my view and- yeah, no excuses. I crossed the line by calling your career a failed one. If those words still haunt me then I cant imagine how you felt- or- still feel. And I'm sorry for that. Also, I know you specifically told me not to go, but I’m at Mr Vincent’s party and you were right, it’s really lame. Things didn't exactly go as I planned them, so-" my lips quivered under scorching hot tears that threatened to ruin my make up. I didnt need to be strong. My bravado fades and my voice weakened until it became a whisper “I don’t want to be here anymore. Please come get me. Please. I’m sorry.”
I barely ended the call when heavy I heard deep breathing behind me, signaling a new presence.
I fooled myself into thinking it was the wind, but a deeper voice said hoarsely "Aww. Dont cry." Shattering that glimmer of hope to pieces.
My back straightened where I stood, frozen. Gripped by fear, I mentally contemplated between turning and running away, but I don’t make a decision fast enough. My body grew cold but my hands flew up to the rope before it tightened around my neck. Even then, I knew that it was already too late. I tried to shout for help, to say anything, but the perpetrator only pulled tighter and the words were barely choked out in syllables. I could feel my body growing cold, my heart beat rapidly and something in me burned terribly. I tried to kick and scrape with my bluntness of my nails and I must’ve hurt him, but it wasnt enough. These were my desperate efforts of survival but it only drew me closer to the unconsciousness.
Above me, the street light began to blur around the edges of my vision. My strenght was failing inch by inch, until there was nonmore struggle in me, and i thought of my mom in her floral red dress sometime in the noneties, running up the stage to get her first ever award, watching and rewatching the tape as a lottl.girl.
I thought of all the things i could've said when we argued, but chise the wrong ones.
And i thought finally So, this is what dying feels like.
Darkness covers the dim florescence above me. And as I get pulled into the deep end, I hear someone call out my name, but I’m already prepared for the pain to end.
