Sugar Valley (Hollywood's Darkest Secret) (34 page)

While she listened, Jose spoke, “I didn’t
think an actor could get a part in a movie that fast. Mr. Fryer
must be a very powerful man.”

“I know, I couldn’t believe it either. I
mean, there I was, sitting and talking to Mr. Fryer when the phone
rings in his office. They told him about the situation and that
they need some actors to audition right that second. Being that Mr.
Fryer is one of the top agents in Hollywood, he got me the part
almost immediately. Talk about a true agent,” Darell explained as
Vivian looked down at the bathroom floor.

She stared at the floor, watching each
teardrop fall, and create a miniature puddle that a single roach
went up to and drank from. But, then she pressed her ear up to the
door again, and attempted to listen in even more on the
conversation.

Damen gave a little grin toward Darell,
realizing that maybe he wasn’t on crack, and maybe he’s telling the
truth after all. So, he grinned and questioned, “When do you begin
filming it?”

“They start filming it in a week, and I have
to leave for New York in three days.”

Another tear dropped from Vivian’s eye, and
the flood of tears followed, showering the floor once again with
its salted texture, dropping right on the single roach, giving it a
shower.

Jose lit up a cigarette, stating, “I don’t
believe you.”

“Oh yeah, well take a look at this.” Darell
threw a bunch of stapled papers at him, hitting Jose in the chest,
and allowing him to look down at it.

“I don’t believe it, Damen, take a look at
this,” Jose said, throwing the papers over to Mr. Schultz.

Damen picked up the papers and looked at the
front of it. He slowly opened it up and began reading the title of
the movie in his mind. “My God, you’re telling the truth. This is
that Hill movie. Congratulations.” He ran up to Darell, and began
shaking his hand, and hugging him, while Jose started to rub Darell
on the head with his fist. This is the moment they all had been
waiting for, but this moment was Vivian’s worst nightmare come
true.

“I don’t believe it, you son of a bitch,
congratulations,” spoke Jose.

He then turned to Damen and saw how he was
gawking at them both with seriousness.

“What’s wrong, Damen?” Darell questioned.

“Shhh, be quiet. How long has the blow-dryer
been off?”

“For about five minutes,” Jose replied in a
silent manner.

“Damn, I forgot that Vivian was here. She
must have heard half of the conversation.” Damen got up from the
bed and stared at the bathroom door, trying to hear if Vivian was
moving around, or even taking a shower.

Suddenly, Darell broke the silence and
concentration, by speaking with tremendous arrogance, as well as
ignorance, “So, so what if she heard. I won fair and square, that’s
life.”

Damen couldn’t believe, couldn’t accept the
words from Darell’s lungs, throat, his mouth, that he spoke with
such calmness. “What? I’m sure if you lost, you wouldn’t want to
hear this either.” Damen ran up to Darell. Anger flowed and waddled
in his feet, adding, “Vivian is probably a better actor than all of
us put together, so take back what you said.”

Darell thought about it for a little bit,
staring at the bathroom doorway and imagining Vivian’s body inside
of it, crying to herself with sadness in her tears. He then decided
in his mind that it would be better to keep his conceit inside of
him, instead of flaunting it to Damen and Jose. So, he started
acting by saying, “You’re right, I’m sorry.” Something was already
taking over Darell’s mind, ripping out the innocence that he once
had, and turning him into a thing of low character that had the one
quality of sinister.

Damen still gazed at Darell’s eyes, wondering
if he really meant those words or not. He turned away from Darell’s
face, and walked over to the bathroom door, whispering, “Vivian,
are you okay in there?”

Jose stepped up to him and whispered, “Just
leave her alone for awhile, she’ll be okay.”

Damen stared at the door, thinking if Vivian
was okay, saying, “No, she’s been really depressed today.”

Damen Schultz didn’t know how to handle this
situation, what words he should say, or could say to calm her
depression and turn her back into the happy and strong Vivian that
he fell for. So, he slowly opened the door a crack and asked again,
“Are you okay, Vivian?” But still, there was no answer. He opened
the door all the way and glanced down at the ground, focusing his
eyes on a small puddle of water, her tears, with a roach still
bathing in its liquid. He turned his eyes toward the sink, and
there he saw Vivian spread out on the cold tiles of the floor, with
blood literally squirting out from her right wrist. “Oh my, God,
somebody call an ambulance, now,” Damen yelled out, picking up her
fragile body and taking it over to the bed. “I didn’t know you
would go this far, and for what? For that word, that stupid,
fucking word.” Damen shouted even more toward Vivian’s still body,
showing his anger toward the situation, and showing his shock
through his watery eyes.

Jose ran over to him, after hanging up the
phone, announcing, “The ambulance is on the way.” Jose looked at
him while Damen was staring at Vivian’s pale face. That’s when he
said, “Don’t worry, Damen, she’ll be fine. Just tie up her wrist
with the towel to slow down the bleeding.”

Darell took the towel from off the floor and
pressed it against her wrist, stating with craziness, “Damen, this
is my fault, this is all my fault...”

Damen’s tears fell upon her face, looking at
Darell, he spoke, “No, man, it’s not your fault, it’s not anyone’s
fault.”

And so they waited for the ambulance, shocked
at the blood they saw on her wrist, and terrified at the flesh they
knew was still opened under the towel. Damen’s tears were tears of
fright, not wanting to lose this person, this angel that he kissed
under his dream sign. They waited, and watched, not realizing or
knowing that this incident would ever reach their adventure, their
mission. One word describes why this occurred, and that word is
called reality...

Chapter Twenty-Four

Staring at the floor, seeing bloodstains
within the yellow tiles of a hospital hallway, Damen stared, fixed,
he paused his sight on this yellow, shiny-textured floor, and
watched three bloodstains slowly flatten out, due to time passing
and gravity taking control. He then looked up, and saw Jose and
Darell sitting opposite of the hallway, next to a sign that read
Emergency Room. A nurse came and guided them into a waiting room,
where they awaited impatiently for an hour, wanting, and craving to
know if Vivian was still alive.

Suddenly, out of Damen’s side vision, he saw
the nurse waving her hand at him, telling him to come over to her
desk. He got up, and passed the sick, and even family members that
waited desperately for their own doctors, and walked up to the
nurse with sleepy eyes. “What is her last name?” the nurse asked as
Damen filled out a form.

He had to think about it for awhile, not
having Vivian really mention it to him in the past, he said, “Um, I
believe, Gryer, Vivian Gryer.” His voice sounded nervous, gulping
up all of his fear, his nerves showed through his eyes, as well as
his tone. “Yeah, it’s definitely Gryer,” he added, handing the form
to the nurse.

The nurse saw Vivian’s phone number on her
computer monitor. She announced, “Okay, we are going to call up her
parents and tell them what happened.”

“I don’t think she would want you to do that,
besides, she’s an adult,” Damen mentioned. A doctor approached him
from behind, waiting for the nurse to finish the legal procedures
with him.

“Well, I’m going to call anyway,” the nurse
said, seeing that the doctor stepped right in front of Damen.

Damen saw bloodstains on the doctor’s blue
jacket, shining out its dreadful color, he knew the blood was new.
The silence between them only went on for five seconds, and that’s
when the doctor questioned, while scratching his brown beard,
“Excuse me, are you that suicide patient’s friend?”

“Yes, is she alright?”

“She’s fine, we’re going to keep her here for
a couple of days. But overall, she’s going to make it.”

Damen nodded with relief, sitting back down
in the waiting room chair, he felt relieved and happy toward the
news. All of them waited for another hour, sitting there in
silence, not mumbling one word to each other. But, then Darell
looked at Damen with a tired expression on his face, breaking the
silence, he asked, “Damen, what did you mean by that word?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Back at the motel you said that Vivian did
this because of some word,” Darell answered. “What word were you
referring to?”

“Oh, ‘fame,’ fame is the word I was talking
about. She wants to be famous so bad that she actually slit her
wrist because of it.” Damen looked down at the hospital floor
again, and that’s when the doctor approached him once more.

As the doctor walked toward him, Damen could
hear screaming through the heat-filled air, yelling of every word,
and tones that reached the height of a little girl’s scream. He
could smell urine; breathing it in, he wanted to leave this place
for good, but then he looked up, and saw the doctor in front of him
again, smiling, and showing his perfectly straight teeth, colored
with pure whiteness. “Hi, um, what we’re doing now is placing her
in a proper hospital room. You can see her when she has it, but
until then you have to wait,” the doctor explained.

“Alright, thanks, Doc,” whispered Damen. His
voice was tired and weak, allowing him to only talk with a silent
tone.

Darell and Jose got up and went to the
bathroom, that’s when the doctor approached Damen again and finally
took him to her room. While they both walked down the hospital
hallway, the doctor explained to Damen that they called her mother
already. The doctor explained what the mother said and why she said
it. He reached Vivian’s room and told the doctor, “Thank you for
everything you’ve done for her.”

He then walked in slowly and saw wires and
plugs inserted into her body, like she was a machine, feeding the
rest of these machines her life. Damen sat down in a chair and
watched her, staring at her face as her image went from pale white
to peach. He looked at her wrist and began moving about in his
chair; it was like her wrist was frightening him. He knew she did
this for fame, giving up on it after Darell got Tom Fryer as an
agent, and then attempting to kill herself because she couldn’t get
it. Damen realized and hoped that he would never go to the extremes
of slitting his own wrist for that word.

She woke up by the sound of a squeaky noise
that came from his chair. Her blue eyes were slowly revealed,
asking in a tired voice, “Where am I?”

Damen kissed her delicately on the hand,
answering, “You’re in a hospital, you had a little accident.”

She looked down at her wrist and saw the
patch over it. Her memory of the suicide attempt came back,
replaying every moment through her troubled mind. She looked up at
Damen and said in a shaky voice, “I’m so sorry, Damen, I’m sorry
that you had to see me do this.”

He brushed her hair gently to the side of her
face. “Shhh, it’s not your fault, it’s not anyone’s fault.”

“So, I guess they called my mother, did
they?” she asked in an anxious tone. “Well, what did she say? Is
she coming?” Vivian’s voice became louder, wanting to know badly
about her mother.

“I think you should get some rest.” He
fluffed her pillow, and tried to avoid her questions.

She screamed, “Hey, is she?”

He took a deep breath, and stared at Vivian’s
troubled beauty, the way her eyes shined with tears, and her face
gleamed with sadness. “No, no, she’s not coming. She figured if
you’re not dead, then she doesn’t have to show up. She said that
she’s sick of you always attempting suicide. But, ah, your
insurance will cover it, I put down that you’re still presently
working for Tom Fryer, so that should do it,” Damen replied, still
staring at her wrist. He saw a few stitches sticking out from the
bandage. “Vivian, how many times have you done this?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She turned
her head to look out the window, avoiding Damen’s presence as well
as his question.

“Alright, what do you want to talk about
then?”

She stared out the window as Damen waited for
her reply to his question. A tear slowly came down from her eye,
grinning at the window, she then turned toward Damen and showed him
her stitches. That’s when she spoke. “I guess you know by now that
I’ve heard the news about Darell’s movie.”

“Yeah, I figured that, but it’s gonna be
okay. Don’t worry, it will be your turn soon, I promise you it
will. All you have to do is believe that you’ll make it. Do you
believe?” During Damen’s words, Jose and Darell approached the
room, stopping before the door. They waited and listened,
eavesdropping on this moment of seriousness.

Tears started to come from her eyes again,
explaining, “Damen, that’s the only thing that keeps me going each
day. For all these years I’ve been working and slaving to be what I
came here to be. And every time I’m close to it, someone like
Darell has to take it away. I don’t understand that concept; it
happens all the time. And every time it happens, I end up here, in
this hospital. The answer to your question is ... yes, I believe.”
Damen wiped the tears away from her precious eyes, smiling at her
words. He gave her a silent kiss on her forehead.

Jose and Darell then walked into the room.
Seeing them, Damen said, “Hey, look who’s here.”

Darell stepped up to the bed and gave her
hug, with Vivian saying, “Congratulations on your movie, I’m sure
you’ll do great in it.”

“Thank you.”