Sugar Valley (Hollywood's Darkest Secret) (66 page)

“Oh, nothing, officer,” answered Chuck,
opening the back door to his café and pushing Damen’s hurting body
inside of it.

A second police officer exited the vehicle,
and walked up to Chuck, stating with confusion, “We got a call
about someone being robbed, it came from this coffee shop.”

“Nope, everything’s fine, officer. It was
probably one of my customers making a prank call or something.”
Chuck then went inside of his café and closed the back door,
leaving the officers there alone, looking at each other with
puzzlement.

Damen walked with Chuck through the backroom,
holding his bloody arm, trying to stop the bleeding with his hand.
“Why didn’t you tell them the truth, Chuck?”

“Because, that would mean I would have to
fill out a bunch of papers and go through the hassle of pressing
charges.” Chuck began to put a bandage around Damen’s arm, wrapping
it quickly, seeing that the bleeding stopped a little bit.

He finished putting the bandage on his arm,
so Damen walked to the front of the café, seeing that it was
vacant, and dark. “But what if those guys come back, Chuck? What if
I’m walking down the street and see them?”

“Don’t worry, Damen, those guys won’t be
back,” he replied, following Damen to the front of the café and
putting up a “Closed” sign in the window.

Damen sat down on one of the chairs by the
counter while Chuck poured him some coffee. He looked at Chuck,
swallowed his pride with one gulp, and spoke, “Thank you. Thank you
for saving my life, I guess.”

“Well, you’re welcome.” Chuck stared at him
with a look of despondency, melancholy, sitting down across from
him. “Damen, what happened to you? You look terrible, what
happened?”

“Well, I guess living on the streets for a
few weeks will do this to a person. I mean, of course I’m dirty,
depressed, and plain out scummy, but overall, I’m surviving.” Damen
gave a smile of despair, adding, “I mean, I haven’t heard from
Jose, Darell, or even Vivian at all.”

“How’s your acting doing?”

“Well, that’s doing terrible. I haven’t
gotten any acting jobs, or any agents.”

“Why?” Chuck asked with a surprised tone. “I
mean, you’re a handsome kid, and I’m sure you’re talented too. I
thought agents would be pounding down your door just to see
you.”

“Well, if I had a door, but they’re not, and
that’s a long story itself.” Damen took a sip of coffee, and added
in an echoing sense, “A long story in itself.”

Chuck picked up his cane and walked past the
counter. He sat down next to him, saying, “I got time, tell
it.”

He gave a deep breath, exhaling with, “Well,
it begins like this.” Damen explained the entire incident,
situation, of how no agents wanted him. He must have explained it
for an hour, and Chuck didn’t say a word; it was like Chuck was his
shrink. Damen finished his story by lighting up a cigarette and
saying, “Now, I just want to go back home to Ridge Crest and forget
about his whole experience.”

“Why would anyone spread a rumor like
that?”

Damen inhaled his cigarette smoke, answering
with tautness and stress, “I don’t know anymore, and I don’t really
care. I don’t think I’ll ever know who said that lie about me.”

Chuck watched Damen, changing his bloody
garment, and putting on another one. As he wrapped it tightly,
Chuck declared, “Listen, Damen, I never, ever, ever told this to
anyone, and I never did this for anyone, but you have to promise me
you’ll hear me out and say ‘yes’ to it. Do you promise?”

Damen put out his cigarette in his coffee
cup, and lit up another one. He stared at Chuck, speculating what
it is he had to tell him, and answered, “Listen, Chuck, I can’t
promise you if I don’t know what it is I’m promising.”

“Alright, remember when I told you I came to
Hollywood with my friends a long time ago?”

“Well, you said something about someone
coming here and opening a coffee shop, I guess that was you. And
also something about your friends and yourself wanting to become an
actor.”

“Yes, that’s the story. Well, you see, one of
my friends made it. Remember how I told you three of them sold
their souls to the Devil, but only one of them actually kept the
contract, in a metaphoric sense?” Chuck asked with seriousness, but
pensively.

Damen smiled, remembering, and asked, “Yeah,
but did you mean he literally sold his soul to him?”

“No, but you have to understand that in
Hollywood, sometimes people crush souls in order to make it to the
top. Well, in a lot of instances, when you sign a contract right
away, I like to use that term. It mainly means that a person comes
to Hollywood, gets discovered right away, and goes to the top
without even having any traumatic experience or breaking a single
sweat, without even working for it. Well, one of my friends decided
to go that route. He made it pretty big. My other friends, who
didn’t want to take that route, went to church and asked God for
forgiveness, of course for their own reasons. To make a long story
short, they ended up like you are now. They ended up like bums, and
died a year later. With me, I opened up a café. What I’m trying to
say to you is, I want to help you, Damen,” Chuck explained,
watching Damen smoking his cigarette heavily.

“You can’t help me, Chuck, by just giving me
a roof over my head, I didn’t come to California to work in a
café,” he proclaimed in a hurtful voice, hitting his arm against
the counter and causing his wound to bleed even more.

“No, no, you don’t understand what I’m trying
to tell you. Listen, I was an agent a long time ago. But, the
reason why I quit was because of a certain other agent who screwed
me over. You can say he began spreading lies about me. The lies got
so big that no clients would want to have me as their agent,” spoke
Chuck, putting his head down and then looking up at Damen.

Mr. Schultz was surprised, finding out that
his ex-boss used to be an agent, and questioning with astonishment,
“Wait a second, you were an agent?”

Chuck was offended by Damen’s question,
saying with shock, “Yeah.” He then added in a defensive way, “What,
you don’t believe that I was an agent? You don’t think I would make
a good one?”

Damen patted him on the back to calm him
down, answering, “No, no, no, I mean, it’s just weird hearing you
say that. I wouldn’t have ever guessed that you were once an
agent.”

“Well, like I said, I didn’t get any clients
because of him, all because of a lie. So, I then opened up a café
and stayed here ever since. Mainly.”

Damen interrupted his words, asking with
interest, “Who was the agent that screwed you over?”

He replied, “Oh, you wouldn’t know him.
Anyway...”

Damen cut him off once more, intruding into
Chuck’s business, asking again, “Try me, what’s his name?”

“Tom Fryer.”

“What?”

Chuck noticed a shocked, dismayed expression
on Damen’s face, looking like he’d just seen a ghost, a phantom
from his past. “Wait a second, do you know him?”

“Do I know him? That’s Darell’s agent.”

“Well, then your friend Darell better watch
out for him.”

“Why?” Damen questioned in a frantic manner,
lifting up his white bandage to see if his cut stopped
bleeding.

“You see, agents are like a barrel of apples,
there is a spoiled one in every bunch. Tom is like a Devil, he
could be good when he knows it will help him reach the top, and he
could be evil when he knows he’ll get his way. Tom always thought
he was the best, but little did he know that he was all talk and no
action.” Chuck paused, noticing a bum knocking at the window. “You
see, he was the guy who sold his soul to the Devil, to Hollywood.
He was the guy who once was my friend, but now is my enemy. He used
to be Hollywood royalty some odd years ago, but then turned to
being an agent.”

Chuck then got up from his seat. Hearing the
tapping on his window by the bum, he started to walk up to the door
while Damen wanted to know more input about Tom. Damen questioned,
“Wait a second, go back a few. What do you mean by that? What do
mean when you said that he could be good when he knows it will help
him reach the top, and evil when he knows he’ll get his way?”

“We’re closed,” Chuck said to the bum,
pounding on the window again. “I said we’re closed,” he added. The
bum flipped him off and walked away from the café in a hesitant
motion.

Chuck returned to his seat as Damen asked
again, “Chuck, what did you mean by that?”

“What did I mean by what?”

“Everything you said. For instance, when you
said he was all talk and no action. What did you mean by that?”

“Oh, well, you see Tom never had a client who
made it to the top and stayed there. All of his clients either
played in a movie and retired, or played in a movie and then got
caught with some drugs or prostitutes. I mean, I don’t think Tom
has ever been to one of his client’s premieres,” Chuck replied with
a laugh.

“Well, he’s been to Darell’s premiere. I
mean, Darell seemed like he was happy and satisfied with Tom being
his agent.”

“Listen, Damen, I want to help you.” He
looked at Damen putting his head down on the counter. Chuck didn’t
want to talk about Tom Fryer anymore, he just wanted to cut to the
chase and tell him what he really wanted to in the first place.

Damen lifted his head up from the green
counter, feeling its textures of roughness, from old, old coffee
stains that weren’t removed, rubbing against his face. As soon as
he came up to Chuck’s eye level, he announced with stress, “Like I
said before, Chuck, I didn’t come to California to work in a café,
let alone live here.”

“Listen, that’s not what I mean by helping
you.” Chuck turned away from Damen’s face for a few seconds and
began preparing himself for what he was about to say to him. He
turned back toward him and spoke, “Let me be your agent, and I
promise you I’ll be a good one?” He paused for a moment and then
added, “I’m an old man, I’m getting older by the day. I promise
you, I’ll be your agent till my last breath.”

He laughed out, “You as my agent? Chuck,
that’s ridiculous.”

“What do you mean? I would make a damn good
agent,” he stated with anger and defense.

“Listen, Chuck, I know you’re just trying to
help, but look at it from my position. Some old guy who was your
boss comes out into an alley and saves your life. Then he takes you
inside and says he wants to be your agent. Listen,” Damen answered,
feeling his own laughter seizing. “I mean, I don’t even know who
your clients were in the past, I don’t even know if you had any
clients for sure.”

“Damen, this is no time to get picky. I had
plenty of clientele in the past, up until Tom’s lie, now I want you
to be my client,” he said in a high tone.

“Chuck, all I want to do right now is save up
money, and then use it to get the hell out of here and go back to
Ridge Crest. I’m too far behind in the game anyway. Darell is
already on his second movie, Jose’s just beginning a movie, and me,
well, I’m sitting in a coffee shop next to my ex-boss with a stab
wound to my arm,” he spoke in a fast and loud voice, getting up
from the chair in quickness.

“Damen, when you came in here to work for me,
I just thought you were another starving artist with a pipe dream,
but--”

Damen lit up a cigarette and stood next to
the front door of the café. Cutting Chuck’s words off, he agreed,
“I know, and you’re right, it’s just a pipe dream.”

Chuck then shouted, “Let me finish. But then
you told me that story about the star in the sky and how you always
look for it every night. Remember, Damen? Remember I was in the
alley with you and I was trying to find the star, but I
couldn’t?”

Damen walked back to his seat and sat next to
him again. “Yeah, I remember.”

“After that day, I knew you were born to be a
star. The reason why I knew is I heard the same thing come out of
one of my client’s mouths a long, long time ago. You see, that
client made it in Hollywood; as a matter of fact, he’s one of the
top stars of today,” he explained, seeing Damen’s eyes widen with
interest, and lighting up with input.

“What’s his name?”

“John Smitherson.”

Damen shot up from off his seat, shouting
with excitement, “He was your client? If he was your client, then
what happened? I mean, why isn’t he your client anymore?” A smile
came on Damen’s face, a smile that meant Chuck was lying. So he
added, “Yeah, why isn’t he your client anymore?”

“Because of Tom Fryer, because of the lie.
Plus, because of other things that I really don’t want to discuss
right now,” he answered as Damen’s smile vanished.

He looked deep into Chuck’s elderly, ripened
eyes, wondering what they saw a long time ago, trying to see what
Chuck was looking at. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Why would I lie about it? Damen, I’m only
going to ask you one more time. Would you please allow me to be
your agent?”

A smile appeared on Damen’s face. He answered
with a mild voice, “I don’t know. I mean, I guess I could give it a
shot. Why do you really want to be my agent?”

“I know you have the talent, and I also want
to show Tom Fryer that I could be a better agent than him. Listen,
I do want your dream to come true; for you and for me. I really
want to help, and I know I can. And I have something to prove to my
scummy, old, so-called ‘friend,’ now enemy; with you, I’ve got the
power. Listen, do want your dream more than life itself? Do want
your dream to become reality?” Chuck questioned, seeing Damen
getting up from his seat and turning around to face him.

Damen thought about it, squeezing his eyes
tight together, trying to remember the feeling, sensation, the
compassion when he was back in Sugar Valley, dreaming about his
dreams, and wanting them more than life itself. Suddenly, it came
to him, leaving out all the deleterious, bad things that he had to
see in Hollywood and all the trauma that he had to feel. It showed
itself to him, being of great size and prosperous feelings. “Yes,
of course I do.”