Hollywood Lies (31 page)

The station bleeps out the word, but it’s evident what she says.

“Okay, so what’s the deal? You turn thirty-three, everything’s going great, you direct a commercial blockbuster, then everything goes a little crazy; erratic behavior, missing for weeks, and those are just the things within the past few months. Before that you fired your personal assistant, and—”

“Why do you only pick the negative things to share?” Cole chuckles.

“Are they negative?”

Cole licks her lips. “Yes. I mean, erratic has a pretty negative connotation, right? I’ll be honest right off the bat with you, Ronnie, because I know you’ll get it out of me at some point. I took a few steps back and relapsed.”

“Drugs?”

“Drugs.”

“Which ones?”

Cole tilts her head and gives Ronnie a smile like the question is so stupid and the answer is so simple. “Heroin. My first and only love.”

“That’s interesting.” Ronnie’s index fingers are pressed together in a steeple, resting against her lips for a moment. “You’ve done that before—called heroin your only love. Is that because—”

“Look, I think you can talk to any addict of the stuff and they’ll describe a romance with it. It provides better feelings than any orgasm can produce.”

“But what about
actual
love, Collette? Orgasm or no, the singular feeling of being loved by another person. Can it rival that?”

Again, Cole looks away. “That love is fleeting. It’s not permanent. But with heroin, if I let it, it’ll stay forever.” The camera pans out to show her picking at the nails of one finger. The crease of her brow makes my insides knot.
 

“Well, let’s be clear. Not forever, just until it kills you.”

A sad little smile on her face appears as Cole nods. “True.”

“But you’re clean now?”

“Yes. I was in rehab for the missing weeks you spoke of earlier.”

“And it helped?”

“I’m off drugs.”

“Will it stick?”

Cole laughs a humorless laugh. “Until it doesn’t.” She pauses. “Look, I’m an addict. I can’t fight the fact that I’ll always be in recovery. It’s a part of me, but it’s better than having heroin be a part of me, right?”

“Absolutely. I think I speak for the rest of the world; we want you healthy.” With one finger, Ronnie draws her bangs back over to the side before pinning her gaze on Cole again. “So now that’s explained. Do you want to talk about your
actual
love life? The one that’s not with a chemical substance?”

“Not really.”

“Thinking back over all our interviews together, that’s always been difficult for you. Why is speaking about love harder than speaking about addiction?”

There is a moment where Cole opens her mouth a bit as she thinks of a response. “Because I think I’m more disappointed in myself for hoping that love can exist for me. I’ve already made my peace with the addiction thing, but I’m really just disgusted with myself for continuing the struggle to find someone to share my life with. It’s ridiculous.”

“Why do you think that? Why is it—”

“I’m not going into it any deeper than that. I’ve got therapists for this—”
 

Another bleep sounds.

“Do you think it has to do with Rodney’s—”

“I’m sure a lot of what I do or don’t do stems from the attack, but I’m not interested in talking about that either. It happened. I have to deal. If people want the details, look up the police report. It’s all out there for everyone’s sick fascination.”

“Obviously the public’s interest in it upsets you.”

“Of course it upsets me. I mean, Jesus, can’t I ever get away from it? Can’t I ever put it in the past?”

“But you have to understand, you were America’s little sweetheart. I first interviewed you at seven years old as a rising musical phenom. Then you transitioned into acting, winning quite a few prestigious awards at such a tender age.”

“So that makes it okay for my personal life and privacy to be aggressively intruded upon?” The way Cole says it is harsh, but it’s softened by an audible exhalation and a slightly embarrassed look away from the camera.

“No, it doesn’t make it okay, but it does explain why people care so much about it. We’ve watched you grow up. It’s like you’re everyone’s daughter. America cares what happens to you.” Ronnie pauses. “People
care
about you, Cole. They want to understand who you are.”

“Doesn’t make it fair. A regular girl gets . . . gets . . . attacked and people from all over the world don’t ask crazy questions about the specifics of what happened. It’s sick. The fascination with it is sick, and it makes me sick.”

“Okay—” Ronnie begins.

“Are all these people who supposedly care about me so naïve to think their intrusion didn’t have anything to do with me developing addictions? I mean, when someone can’t go grab something to eat without being asked what it was like to endure those hours with Rodney Douglas, it’s not too far of a stretch they’d do what they can to numb it all, to make it so they can’t even hear the questions.”

“No. You’re right. I can see the connection, but what do you do now? You’re off drugs, hopefully for good, and people are still interested in the past. What do you do now?”

“I have no idea, so I’m just going pick another project, jump in feet first, and get swept away.”

“I’ve thought for a long time that you use your professional life as a way to manage your personal life. Let’s go back to that personal life you try so hard to keep private just once more before discussing your professional life. You’ve been linked with a few men over the course of the past decade. Was there—
is
there—one of those men who really captured your heart? Was there one who was able to sneak past your defenses and get under your skin in a good way?”

At this, Cole actually smiles. A real smile; a moment of vulnerability and acknowledgment of reality. “Yeah. A few men I’ve shared time with have gotten past some of my defenses, but I’ve tried to rebuild the fortifications, any my only real regret is that it kept someone out who I really hoped would climb over the top, you know? Lay siege to the fortress.”

“Who was that?”

The smile shifts into a smirk. “Now, Ronnie—”

“Had to try. But there was someone recently who you wanted closer?”

“Absolutely. He was someone I actually felt a true and honest connection with. He’s very dynamic. It’s a discreet force he wields, but it’s completely encapsulating. I felt good with him. We could just sit together, reading separate books, and just be at peace with the quiet of each other’s company.”

“Did you think you could keep him around for a while?”

“No. I knew it wouldn’t last because good things like that aren’t supposed to last in my life for long.”

“That’s bleak. But you
wanted
him around for a while?”

“Oh, yes. I could’ve sat with him in quiet confidence for the rest of my life and been a happy woman.”

“So what happened?”

“The same thing that always happens.” Collette shrugs. “He left.”

“Devon! Come see what I bought!” Lili’s voice is harsh as it echoes through the house. As much as I want to watch the rest of the interview, I shut it off. I’ll watch it later.
 

I stand up, then go to the foyer to find Liliana standing there with about fifteen bags.
 

“Help?”

I move to take a few from her arms.

She nods behind her. “There’s more in the car.”

Lili doesn’t even say hello. She doesn’t even ask how my day has been. But then, I don’t ask her either. I’m not sure what’s happening with us, but I feel alone.
 

I force myself outside to grab the shopping bags, and when I’m back inside, I find Lili sorting through her new things. I hug her. Our relationship may be far from perfect, but at least I’m not alone.
 

Four days later, I sit at the kitchen island, listening to Liliana tell me about some clothing designer who is making a dress for some Hollywood function and about the necklace some jeweler is going to loan her for the evening when I realize I’ll have to go to this thing, too.

“What are we talking about?” I ask.

She looks at me like I’m the most annoying thing she has ever experienced and says, “My dress.”

“Yeah.” I nod. “But for what again?”

“The charity gala we agreed to go to.”

“I agreed?” I don’t remember.

Lili rolls her eyes and hops off the stool. With her plate in hand, she goes to the sink and sets it down. She leans back against the counter, and gives me a smile that doesn’t sit easy with me. “You don’t have to go. We were planning on making a big show of dancing together, but leaving separate to make it seem like—”

“I don’t have to go?” I can’t help the relief that sounds in my voice. I let out a long deep breath.
 

Lili doesn’t share my relief; her brow is knitted together and her lips are pursed.
 

“What?”

“Devon, I don’t get what’s going on with you. Why don’t you want to go? I mean, I’m going to look so hot in my dress and we’ll get play around and make the media all hot and bothered with our flirting and—”

“I don’t want that anymore,” I say before I even know I’m going to say it. “I don’t want—”

“Maybe we should take some time off.”

I lay my hands flat on the top of the island as my heart starts beating fast against my chest. This could be the beginning of a panic attack, but I don’t know. “Time off? Off what? Pretending we’re not together or pretending we are? This whole thing is—”

Lili pushes off the counter, walks to me, then places a hand on my back. “I mean take a break from each other. I don’t—”

“You want to break up?” Now breathing is hard, and it feels like the walls of this house are closing in. “You don’t want to—”

“Shhhh.” Lili wraps her arms around me. “I just think if we take a break, you might start to feel better about—”

I sit up straight, and it forces her to let go. “No!” I twist around in my seat and take her by the shoulders and bring her into a crushing hug. I don’t want to let her go. I can’t handle all this celebrity crap without her. “Don’t leave. I need you. We can . . . we can do this together, but I can’t do it alone.”

“Do what?”

Even if I had just thought it, I can’t find the words to say it now, so I tighten my arms on her and bury my face in her neck. I’m awash with anxiety. “Lili, please. I’ll go to the gala with you.” Then I remember we’re not actually supposed to be together. “Or without you, whatever the deal is. Just . . . I don’t want to take a break. Stay with me, okay?”

I’ve freaked her out now because she gently pushes away and holds her hands up like she’s reasoning with a lunatic. “Okay. I’m not going anywhere. I just thought maybe—”

“Well, you were wrong. We’re great together.” I don’t feel great with her, but it is the closest thing to the truth right now.

Liliana looks at me with genuine concern. “I think we should schedule an appointment for you to see a doctor.”

“Because Locker needs to get a photo of me going into a shrink’s office? Oh, my God, do you know what that will—”

“Maybe one will make a house call. I think having some medication could be good for you.”

I take her hands and pull her back to me and say, “I don’t need a doctor or medication. Just you.” I wish I was strong enough to believe my own words.

What I don’t say is that I’m not sure if I need her specifically. I don’t say that I need someone who understands because if I say it, I’ll have to admit deep in my heart that I know she isn’t the one who understands what I’m going through. I will have to admit that it’s Cole who would be able to handle it.

Chapter 14

Cole

Since getting clean again in rehab, I’ve been banging out some really good music as Highland. It’s been therapeutic to go into my little home studio and forget the rest of the world even exists beyond beats and vocals. I’ve gotten a few calls on doing a performance as her, but I’m not ready to invite that kind of exposure. Jesse thinks I should do it, and even agreed to pick up his violin again if I did, but I declined his offer. It’s nice to just be able to make music and see the response without the fact that I’m Collette Stroud getting in the way. Just my name would influence people and water down the music.