Down the Rabbit Hole (45 page)

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Authors: Holly Madison

BOOK: Down the Rabbit Hole
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Truth be told, I was devastated by the cancellation. The cast, production, and I continued to bring in the ratings for the network, but
Playboy
cast a shadow over my life and I couldn't escape it.

I felt terrible that I could no longer provide my castmates with the spots on the show that had brought them so much success. I felt like the Giving Tree after the tree was reduced to a stump and had nothing left to give anyone. I was worried that I would lose all my friends once they learned
Holly's World
was to be no more. Of course, that didn't turn out to be the case. Josh and I, for example, remained and still are as close as ever. Angel and I suffered an estrangement for a few years, but sometimes that's what success can do to friendships.

I felt like I had just begun landing lucrative endorsements and turning my press coverage around. People had finally started saying “We love you on
Holly's World
” instead of “We loved you on
The Girls Next Door
.” I was scared that with the show's cancellation, my positive momentum could be stopped dead in its tracks.

“J
UST DO IT
,” my friend advised me. “They're going to make it whether you want them to or not. You may as well have your voice in there.”

In 2011, E! executives asked me to film for their
True Hollywood Story
franchise. I'd been interviewed for the program before, but this time the entire episode was going to be about me! While the idea of having your own E!
True Hollywood Story
might be a sign to some that you've made it, I felt wildly underqualified and the prospect horrified me.

But I haven't even accomplished anything yet,
I thought. My story wasn't ready to be told. I hadn't achieved enough on my own
outside
of the mansion—and I didn't want the hour-long program to be a tribute to my days at
Playboy
. But after talking it out, I realized I didn't really have a choice in the matter.

Eventually, I gave the network my cooperation. In retrospect, I feel so sorry for the poor producer forced to interview me. I did
not
make her job easy. I felt like I had nothing but a trail of mistakes and embarrassments to confess on camera (save for the previous two years), so I was perhaps the grumpiest, bitchiest, most emotional mess that had ever sat down for a
THS
about her life. The last subject she had interviewed for the series was Katy Perry, who was no doubt upbeat, but she's someone who's
really
accomplished things. I was so insecure—I worried that my life's story would be presented as that of just another famous-for-nothing
Playboy
bimbo. Naturally Hef was interviewed for the special (you really think he would miss a chance to be on camera?) and his only real contribution was a chippy remark at my expense.

“What I thought I had found in Holly, I really found in Crystal,” he had said to the interviewer . . . as if that was in any way relevant my story. He just couldn't resist an opportunity to belittle me and to make the story all about him.

But when the special finally aired, something interesting happened: people actually related to me.

To my surprise, viewers sympathized with my unhappiness and some even said they found the courage to reinvent themselves in their own lives. Inspired by my story, some women told me they were able to remove themselves from difficult situations, get over a breakup, or find the motivation to get healthy. I was and continue to be truly humbled.

Through these wonderful, honest people, I was able to reevaluate how I viewed my own past and maybe give myself a bit of a break.

Perhaps sharing my story wasn't such a bad idea,
I thought.

Maybe I wasn't defined by the mistakes I had made after all . . . maybe those decisions were what allowed me to become the person I was always destined to be.

C
HAPTER
17

“It's no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.”

—Lewis Carroll,
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

K
endra? Appear in
Peepshow
? You're kidding me, right?” I laughed, barely able to believe the suggestion.

Before now, I've never spoken publicly about my falling-out with Kendra. There were people looking to capitalize on the deterioration of our friendship, and I refused to allow them to benefit from it. Throwing away a relationship for cheap publicity isn't cute.

After E! canceled both
Kendra
and
Holly's World,
Kendra's series was picked up by a smaller cable network. When production started brainstorming ideas for Kendra's new show, they called me and asked me if I would like to participate. Always
The Girls Next Door
's biggest fans, the producers wanted to keep the “team” together in any capacity they could.

“Of course!” I assured them. While there wasn't necessarily any upside for me to appear on her show, Bridget, Kendra, and I routinely made cameos on one another's programs. For us, it was a no-brainer. That's simply what friends do. Besides, it was fun.

When I was presented with plotlines to participate in, I was less than thrilled with the options. I wanted to make sure that my appearance on her series felt organic, but I was beginning to get the impression that there was a hidden agenda.

Early into our conversations, they latched onto one particular idea that they wouldn't shake. They insisted that the network wanted
sexy,
that they wanted
career.
And that they needed help with that because at that point Kendra wasn't either of those things.

One of them asked me to offer Kendra the role as my
Peepshow
understudy for a weeklong stint. Besides being a total rehash of a storyline we had done for
Holly's World
with Angel, there was a whole host of reasons I wasn't comfortable with that happening. I had worked hard to help make
Peepshow
a success and considered it a huge part of my post-
Playboy
identity. I felt that to show Kendra performing in
Peepshow,
on television, even if it were only for one night, would create the impression that it was just another
Playboy
-related venture that was handed to any
GND
alumnus. Couldn't I have anything of my own?

They continued to gripe, saying Kendra had no ambition, didn't do anything but sit on the couch, and had truly become famous for nothing.

Over the past three and a half years,
Peepshow
had become my baby. I busted my ass to create a successful post-mansion life for myself and I wasn't going to just hand over the reins for the chance to be on a show roughly 40 people would end up watching (okay, maybe a
little
more than 40). It felt like I was being used.

Despite sharing a friendship and a common experience at the mansion, Kendra and I were still
very
much different people. There were times when I was compared to her and encouraged to follow Kendra's method, but it just wasn't me. While she was quite a bit more mainstream than I was, her “career moves” consisted of things like releasing an old sex tape or coming out with a line of lubricants. While her tabloid coverage focused on positive things like her wedding and baby her first year out of the mansion, lately her headlines had devolved to negative things like: “Why I Left Hank,” “Kendra Loses Her Baby!,” “Kendra's Secret Breakdown,” and “Sex Tape Scandal.” Ummm, no thanks.

Since she moved into the mansion at 19 years old, Kendra had never had to work for a thing her entire adult life. She went directly from having cameras follow her as Hugh Hefner's girlfriend to cameras following her being a football wife. Luckily for her, whether it was Hef or Hank, there was always someone around to rescue her.

Were they seriously asking me to simply hand over the career I had built by myself so her life could look more interesting on TV? It appeared so.

“I worked my ass off to promote
Peepshow
and make it a success,” I continued, firmly and unapologetically. “The work I put into this production actually means something to me. If I tossed in Kendra as my understudy, people would see that on TV and think
Peepshow
is just handed from one ex-Girl Next Door to the other. It would tear down everything I've built to make myself an individual.”

I was told that it wouldn't and that Kendra wouldn't even be able to do the show. That she would think she could do it, but she wouldn't be able to pull it off.

“The answer is no,” I maintained. “I'll support Kendra on her show, but I'm not handing my life over to her. No way.”

They finally conceded, before offering one final plea: “But think about it. It would get you back on television!”

Did he really think I wanted back on TV that badly?
I thought. I couldn't begin to imagine Kendra's
Peepshow
run. First off, there's no way Kendra had the self-discipline to perform in eight live shows a week. She didn't possess that kind of work ethic. And I could
never
unleash Hurricane Kendra on my cast and crew.

Sure, we'd been on excellent terms since we left the mansion, but I knew for myself what a nightmare she could be to work with. Her incessant tardiness, endless excuses, and toddler-like tantrums had become a thing of legend.

After continuing to turn down the
Peepshow
understudy idea again and again (they really were relentless), I finally agreed to shoot a simple scene with Kendra at her new home—Hank's NFL career had ended the year before and they had settled outside Los Angeles—for the debut episode of her series.

The plan seemed organic enough: she and I would simply talk and catch up. Producers encouraged me to tell her about my career and plans for the future—apparently this was intended to inspire Kendra to get off the couch and build her own career, a story arc they hoped to follow throughout the season.

When I arrived at her house in Calabasas, I was genuinely eager to catch up. We hadn't seen each other since filming Hef's
Runaway Bride
Lifetime special. She took me on a tour of her home, barking at Hank to stay out of the shot as we passed him in the hall. I talked at length about my life in Las Vegas, including my plans for
Peepshow,
other opportunities I was considering, and wanting to get out of the shadow of
Playboy
to continue to do things on my own.

As the conversation wore on, Kendra seemed to be getting more and more annoyed. It was becoming clear that she didn't like the idea that she wasn't the only
Girls Next Door
graduate to find success.

We wrapped our scene, hugged good-bye, and I jumped back into my Range Rover for the five-hour drive back to Las Vegas—after all, I had a show that night!

Before pulling out of the driveway, I shot her a quick text:

Thanks for having me over to your house! It was fun catching up!

She didn't respond, which was odd. Usually she was pretty quick in responding to my texts or tweets, but I didn't give it too much thought beyond that.

A few weeks later, a field producer for the series asked me to place a phone call to Kendra. They wanted to film her receiving the call from me to set up the idea that I was coming over for the visit we had filmed. After being rescheduled countless times because Kendra was “not answering her phone,” “not coming out of her room,” or “not showing up to film,” it became clear what was going on.

I spent five seasons on a reality show with Kendra—and her habits hadn't changed much. Instead of addressing the issue or having a mature conversation with producers, Kendra's go-to method was passive-aggressive avoidance.

Oh well,
I thought. If she didn't want the scene on her show, that was her business.

Despite the fact that the producers couldn't coax Kendra into shooting a phone call with me, they continued pressing the
Peepshow
understudy idea. In the beginning, I was told “the network loves the idea for the premiere” . . . then it became “the network loves the idea for the season finale.”

And each time I said no.

“Besides,” I said the last time we discussed it, “I'm just uncomfortable with it. Something is wrong with Kendra. She doesn't answer my texts or tweets anymore—I think she's pissed at me or something.”

My concerns were dismissed. “That's just Kendra. You know how she is—she never gets back to anybody.”

“Not really,” I said. “Actually, she used to always answer my texts right away. Anyway, the answer is no. It just doesn't feel right.”

When they showed me the premier episode of the horribly titled
Kendra on Top,
it was clear what she was so irritated about.

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