Sugar Valley (Hollywood's Darkest Secret) (26 page)

“Here, listen.” Jose placed the phone by
Damen’s ear. Seeing the nervousness in his eyes, he got off on it,
just like an older brother picking on his little brother.

“I’m gonna get you for this, you son of a
bitch,” he shouted as Helen answered to the last word that came out
of his mouth.

“What did you say?” she asked with anger.

“No, I wasn’t talking to you. I mean, I was
talking to you, but I didn’t mean that toward you.”

“Is this Damen?”

“No, I mean, yes, um, yeah, well, is Vivian
there?”

“No, she hasn’t gotten off of work yet, she
was supposed to be back thirty minutes ago.” Helen’s voice showed
some seriousness to it, like a mother’s voice, looking for her
kidnapped daughter.

“Okay, um, then tell her, when she gets home,
to call me, please,” he spoke, looking on the motel phone for a
phone number. “The number is 485-2233.”

“Okay, got it, stud, bye.” Helen listened for
Damen’s voice, but suddenly he slammed down the phone, due to his
nerves.

“Why don’t you just go to her work?” Jose
insisted while brushing his teeth. The toothpaste dripped out of
his mouth, allowing his voice to be drowned in the mixture, and
covered with yellow tar that his cigarette smoke caused.

“What did you say?”

Jose took out his toothbrush and shouted,
“Why don’t you just go to her work?” He hated when he has to repeat
himself; it aggravated him.

“You mean tonight?” Damen was nervous
alright, he sounded like a little third grader, having a crush on a
girl in his class, but not knowing exactly how to tell her.

“No, I mean next year... of course tonight.
Buy some Chinese food and surprise her with it.” Jose then handed
Damen’s jacket to him, urging him to go, only because he knew he
really liked her.

“What happens if Mr. Fryer’s there?” Damen
noticed toothpaste on the arm of his jacket, but ignored it and
added, “I don’t want to get her fired.”

“You’re not going to, Damen. If Mr. Fryer’s
there, just tell him you’re dropping off some Chinese for her. As a
matter of fact, just tell him you’re dropping Chinese food off for
the both of them. That way you’ll get in good with him and Vickie,”
Jose replied; impatience was showing through his mouth.

“It’s Vivian, not Vickie.”

“Whatever...”

“Okay fine, I’ll do that.” Damen opened the
motel room door and added, “I mean, what do I have to be afraid of?
I’m a man, I can do this.”

Darell jumped in the pursuit of building up
Damen’s self-esteem, jokingly saying, “You go, boy. Hey, remember,
don’t stay out too late, lover boy.”

He went out into the smelly hallway, suddenly
turning around and facing the both of them. “By the way, when I get
back, I want you to clean my jacket for me.” Damen pointed to the
toothpaste stain, and Jose began laughing—he’d hoped that Damen
wouldn’t notice it.

“You got it,” said Jose. He closed the
motel-room door and allowed Damen to be on his own for now,
watching through the peephole as Damen walked down the hallway in a
slow fashion.

Damen Schultz picked up some Chinese food at
the corner store and took a cab to her work; knowing he had little
money, but still, he liked this girl a lot. He came up to Tom
Fryer’s building, noticing it was locked from the front. So he went
around to the alley, found an opened door, and ran in, hoping that
Vivian didn’t leave yet. He walked up the stairs slowly, seeing
that some of the lights were out in this office building, but still
he continued onward, rehearsing what to say when Vivian is
present.

“Hi, Vivian, I was just walking in the
neighborhood,” he said before hitting himself on the head. “No, you
idiot, stupid, stupid, stupid, why would you be passing Vivian’s
work at this time of night? Hello, I was just wondering if you
wanted some Chinese food. Oh, by the way, you do look extremely
sexy tonight, do you mind if I passionately kiss you,” he added as
he hit himself, even harder, on the head. “Okay, I’ll just say
whatever comes to my mind,” he yelled out.

He entered the waiting room of Tom’s agency,
seeing Vivian’s desk, and how the lights were off, but her computer
monitor was still on. “That’s funny,” he mumbled. Curiosity hit his
face when he looked at the monitor and saw some material still on
it. “Why didn’t she save it and turn it off?” He looked around the
darkened office area, seeing that a window was open, and the silent
wind blew a gasp of quiet sounds that sounded like children
screaming in a constant melody. “Great, just great, I better go,
she’s not here, Damen. This is breaking and entering,” he said out
loud, talking to himself, trying to figure out what to do.

He walked toward the glass doors to the
waiting room, grabbing onto the handle, he opened it, and walked
halfway out, stopping suddenly. Damen heard a noise coming from
Vivian’s phone that was off the hook, some strange noise he
couldn’t comprehend from afar. He walked slowly up to it, looking
around him, seeing if he was the only one present, Damen stared at
the phone in a curious sight. Seeing that the button, entitled
Office, was pushed down, out of ten buttons, he realized it was
coming from Mr. Fryer’s office; it was the speakerphone that he
left on by accident. Damen listened closely to the receiver,
hearing moaning and screaming that only could be justified as sex.
His eyes grew smaller. Looking down with disappointment, he knew
they both were making love of some kind. Hearing the screams of a
man and woman, Damen closed his eyes and grinned. “Well, you almost
had her.” So he walked toward the exit in a fast motion. Feeling a
little angered toward Vivian’s actions, he added, “It’s her loss,
not mine.”

Before he stepped out of the waiting room, he
heard Vivian’s voice crying out, “Please, let me go now.” They were
faint, but still receivable to Damen’s ears, enough to know she
wasn’t having a good time. Then he heard a loud yell that came in
the form of the word “please.” But still, to him, maybe they were
having a tremendously great time, after all, sex is sex, and
screaming is always a part of it.

Damen went over to Mr. Fryer’s office door
and looked into the key hole in a curious fashion. He saw Vivian’s
reflection in the mirror, it was the reflection of terror in her
eyes with tears to follow as the light from the outside, gleaming
in through the drapes, revealed her face. “That bastard,” he said,
running back to the end of the waiting room and getting ready to
charge for the door. Damen commenced running toward it, not knowing
that his life would change, be altered by his actions. He banged
into it once; the lock broke and the door flew open.

He turned on the lights in the room, yelling
out at the same time, “What the hell is going on?”

He saw Tom’s naked body, pressed forcefully
up against Vivian’s half-stripped figure. Tom shouted and panted,
“What are you doing here? Get out.”

Damen grabbed onto Vivian’s shaky hands,
asking in an angry notion,” Can’t you see she’s crying? She doesn’t
want this.”

Mr. Schultz stood there, silent as could be,
not knowing if he did the wrong thing, or not. But then he saw
Vivian’s face, in the mirror, and stared at her eyes that showed
fright and torment. He also saw Vivian just standing there
motionless. She knew if she left, then Mr. Fryer would be furious
with her. But, she knew if she stayed, then her nightmare would
continue and her dream of becoming a superstar, through Mr. Fryer’s
help, would come true.

Damen tried running, but Vivian’s hand pulled
him back. He asked, “What are you doing? Do you actually want
this?” Damen became highly confused.

“Yes, as a matter of fact she does,” Mr.
Fryer announced with Vivian looking into his eyes.

“I’m talking to her, not you, asshole.”

She paused for a minute before she answered,
gave her verdict on the tormenting situation that her mind and body
had to endure. She glanced over Tom’s naked shoulders and looked
into the mirror, seeing her face red as an apple, with tears that
sparkled in the light from the room. She looked around this office,
dome, cave, this place of hellish desires and colors, then ran out
the door. Damen threw one bag, out of two, of the Chinese food at
Tom and followed Vivian, exiting the waiting room in an upbeat
rhythm. Damen grabbed onto her when they reached the outside and
pulled Vivian close to him, like he wanted to protect her at this
particular time, make her know that he wouldn’t allow harm to come
to her sight, as long as she’s entrapped in his arms, gently.

Tom Fryer ran out of the building with his
trousers unbuckled, and his shirt undone, gawking at Vivian,
standing by the doorway, he glanced in a malicious stare at her
precious eyes. Tom came toward her while a cab pulled up next to
Damen’s feet. They got in the cab, before Mr. Fryer could speak a
word, brainwash her again, and took off. He told the cabdriver to
drive anywhere as he held onto Vivian’s shaky body; right now,
anywhere was better than here.

“Thank you,” she spoke, wiping a tear away
with her shaky and tear-drenched hand.

“What the hell happened up there?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Just hold
me.” The wind from the opened window blew into her face and dried
her tears, creating a cold breeze on her flesh; like placing cold
water on your body and jumping into a warm pool.

The cab drove for an hour. They did not speak
a word to each other the whole time. Damen finally told the
cabdriver to stop the cab, seeing that he didn’t have enough money
to drive any longer. The cabdriver stopped right in front of the
hill that held the Hollywood sign; it was too perfect. They both
got out of the car and just stood there while Damen paid the
driver, seeing that it was night and the dirt road of void
stretched far and wide.

Suddenly, Vivian ran toward the hill and
began climbing it. Damen seeing her from a distance, he started to
run after her, and tried to keep close; he knew that this hill
wasn’t familiar to him that much, and without her to guide, he
would be lost. Finally reaching her when they both came to the top
of the hill, grabbing onto he arm gently, he followed her sight,
gazing at the Hollywood sign in an intriguing daze. Damen went down
her arm and grabbed onto her hand, while holding the second bag
filled with Chinese food in the other; they both stared at the
sign, without words, without thought.

Sitting down on the grass at the same time,
Damen questioned, “So, you want some Chinese food?”

“Sure.” A smile appeared on her frightened
face, she was happy in his presence.

“There’s only a little bit here, I threw the
other bag at that ass,” he said with a smile. They ate the food
without speaking a word to each other. Damen finished his dinner
first and got up from the ground, brushing his pants off from the
strands of crushed grass that hung from his behind. He then grabbed
a rock, questioning, “So, are you going to tell me what happened
down there?”

“You don’t want to hear it.”

“Try me,” he said, throwing the rock a long
distance, showing through the rock’s momentum that his anger was
high.

“He always does that to me.” She looked down
at the ground, hiding the shame of her actions; Damen saw her
pain.

“He always forces sex upon you?”

“That, too... But... he always tries to
control me. That’s just the way he is.” Vivian looked at his face,
showing her guilt through her beautiful but saddened blue eyes.

“Listen, what he’s doing is wrong... you
could go to the police,” he said as he threw another rock even
farther.

“No, not the police, not anyone,” she cried
out.

“Alright, alright, we won’t go to the cops.
But, what I want to know is why, why won’t you go to them?” he
asked, sitting down beside her in a delicate way.

“Listen to me, my career would be over if I
went to the cops, or anyone. It would be over before it began.” She
got up from the ground and watched Damen’s eyes, seeing how many
questions he had in them, and hoping they would stay there.

“Why would it be over?” he slowly said,
staring at her face in confusion.

“Do you know how powerful Mr. Fryer is?” She
then picked up a stone and twirled it around in her shaking
fingers.

“No, I don’t... Why, how powerful is he?”

“He is one of the top talent agents in
California. Being in this, this business for so many years. Tom
knows almost every single agency around, every director, producer,
and the list goes on and on. In his database, and phone book alone,
he has names of the greatest actors around—friends of his, but not
clients. Basically, he could destroy Elvis’ career, but he’s dead,”
she replied, dropping the stone from her hand. She was tired, sick
of fighting with this battle for her ambition, and fatigued at
these piercing thoughts of how Tom treated her, and would still
treat her if she went back to work.

“So, if you get him in trouble, he’ll take
away your dream?” asked Damen. He got up and looked at Vivian,
knowing that this was getting to be a very serious conversation.
The silent breeze from the mountain, or hill, ran against their
faces, hands, their entire bodies, and felt tranquil, peaceful as
its texture showed clement to its cycle.

“Not take it away, but destroy it.” She
paused, stopped, ended her voice, thinking of the words she’s going
to say next, Vivian stared into his eyes and added, “You see, no
one could ever take away someone’s dream. That’s the one thing that
we’re in control of. But, people can prevent your dream from
happening, and Mr. Fryer is one of them.” A tear came down from her
left eye, showing its terror that she had to see, and revealing its
secrets that only Vivian knew.

“I don’t know why you just won’t quit that
job? Did you know you can get another one?” He looked up at the
stars above, adding, “I’m sure there’s a lot of other talent agents
looking for a good secretary like yourself. Why don’t you just go
look for another talent agent?”