L. A. Candy Page 13

  “Diego, do you mind?” Tiffani said impatiently. “I’m right in the middle of an interview.”

  “Interview? What interview? What does this she-demon want with the two of you?” D asked, turning to Scarlett and Jane.

  “What is your problem?” Tiffani demanded.

  “Go fact-check something. Shoo!” D hissed, waving his hands at her.

  “I’m interviewing them for the Eye Candy piece, you asshole,” Tiffani snapped.

  Scarlett’s seething boiled over. “Seriously? Are you that dense? It’s L.A. Candy.”

  “L.A. Candy? You mean, the new PopTV show?” D interrupted. “Girls, you’re on that show? Why didn’t you say anything at Les Deux?”

  “We met the producer that night, right after you disappeared,” Jane explained.

  “Well, color me clueless! This is unbelievable!” D crowed. “Listen, girls. What are you doing this Saturday? Wait! It doesn’t matter! Cancel. We’re going to celebrate! I want to fall in love with you before I have to hate you.”

  “Oh, fun!” Jane exclaimed.

  “Sure,” Scarlett agreed. D might be a tad on the dramatic side, but she’d take hanging out with him over a night out with Madison and Gaby any day.

  Tiffani’s phone rang. She picked it up, listened, then hung up quickly. “Diego? Your master’s looking for you,” she said. “You’d better run!”

  D turned pale. “Uh-oh. Listen, ladies. Here’s my card. Text me later, ’kay? We’ll figure out what, when, where, and what to wear!”

  “Sounds good,” Jane said, hugging D good-bye.

  Scarlett watched as he hurried into an office with mirrored windows. She studied the card he’d handed her. It said: “Diego Neri, assistant to the editor in chief, Gossip.” So…his “master,” Veronica Bliss, must be the boss lady of this magazine. And judging from D’s freaked-out expression when he took off just now, she must be intimidating. Scarlett was sure Jane could relate to that.

  21

  WE COULD USE SOME FRESH MEAT

  Veronica Bliss sat admiring the framed, oversized Gossip magazine covers that adorned the wall across from her desk. The one of super-stud actor Gus O’Dell trading spit with his male costar while Gus’s wife was pregnant with their first child…and the other of super-saint actress Leda Phillips standing next to her smashed Mercedes, just moments after the now-famous DUI.

  She sighed as she looked over this week’s mockup spread across her desk. Another week. No one was in rehab…no one new, at least. No one was being lazy about hiding their affairs. No one had become desperate enough to leak their own nude photos onto the Internet. Nothing new. She was bored. Every “it girl” had either cleaned up her act or simply gone off the deep end and now failed to surprise.

  Veronica gazed out the glass wall of her office. It was mirrored on one side so she could see out, but no one could see in. She eyed the two girls sitting in Tiffani’s cubicle and gabbing away with Diego. Who was that assistant of hers talking to? The first girl was tall, brunette, and strikingly beautiful. The second girl was shorter, pretty, with long, wavy blond hair. She didn’t recognize either of them.

  Veronica picked up her phone and buzzed Tiffani’s extension. “Ask Diego to come to my office, please.”

  A moment later, Diego came rushing through her door. “Sorry, sorry! I heard you were looking for me. Did you need something?” Worry marred his smooth, cute, Asian-American face.

  Veronica smiled tightly at him. “What’s Tiffani working on today?”

  Diego looked confused. “Tiffani? She’s, uh, interviewing two of the girls from PopTV’s new reality show.”

  Veronica arched her eyebrows. “Oh. And who are they? Do we know anything about them?” she asked casually. She knew about the show. Her spies at PopTV had told her all about it. If it was anything like the network was pitching it to be, those girls were about to become household names.

  “Well…their names are Scarlett and Jane. Scarlett’s the brunette. She’s a student at U.S.C. Jane’s the blonde. She interns for an event planner.”

  “Really? Which planner?”

  “Uh…I’m not sure. I can find out for you.”

  “Please do. And ask Tiffani to email me the notes from her interview as soon as the girls are gone.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Good.” Veronica looked back at the girls. She watched as Jane tried to untangle a strand of hair from her finger. “We could use some fresh meat. Things are getting a little boring around here.”

  Veronica knew the only thing America loved more than watching their stars rise was watching them fall. These girls were so unprepared for what was about to happen to them—instant fame—that the inevitable rise was practically guaranteed to be followed by a quick descent. And capturing those heartbreaking, tragic, nosedive-from-the-pedestal moments was what Veronica—and Gossip magazine—did best.

  22

  MY NAME IS JANE

  Jane pulled into a spot marked RESERVED. It was the only empty space she could find in the recording studio’s parking lot. Even though it was the weekend, the place was packed.

  She hopped out of her car and walked toward the long gray building. There were several brightly painted doors along its side marked with numbers above each. She looked down at her new BlackBerry and tried to pull up the email that Trevor’s assistant had sent her. She was still figuring out how to use it. Trevor had given a BlackBerry to every girl on the show a couple of days ago, so it would be easier for Dana to get hold of them and send them their schedules.

  “Building One,” Jane read aloud, finally finding the email.

  She made her way toward the door with the large blue number one painted above it and headed inside. At the end of a long hallway, she found the door marked SOUNDBOX STUDIOS and went in, her Miu Miu heels sounding loud against the cement floors. She had never owned a pair of $400 shoes before. They had been her first splurge, part of her new wardrobe for the show.

  “Can I help you?” A young girl with long black hair smiled at Jane from behind a cluttered desk.

  “Hi. I’m supposed to be meeting Dana from PopTV.” Jane looked around, hoping she was in the right place.

  “Studio three,” the girl said, pointing at the door to Jane’s left. “I think she’s already in there.”

  “Thanks.”

  Jane slipped inside and found herself in a dimly lit room. Dana was sitting on a red couch and talking to a tall bald man. In one corner of the room was a big-screen TV, which was currently turned off. Across from that, there was a control board lit up with hundreds of buttons, switches, and dials next to a large glass window through which Jane could see another, smaller room encased with black padding. In the center of the smaller room was a wooden bar stool and a round mike hanging from a black stand.

  “Hey, Jane,” Dana said as Jane came in.

  Dana looked even more stressed and exhausted than usual—if that was possible. The woman seriously needed to check into a spa, for like a month. She wore a blue sweatshirt over jeans, and she had on no makeup. Trevor had mentioned that all the producers had been editing until 2 or 3 a.m. every morning, trying to get the show ready for the premiere, which was now just two weeks away. Two weeks! Jane could hardly believe it. She reminded herself to go shopping for something cute to wear to the party, which was going to be at a club called Area. She also reminded herself to invite her family and friends—particularly Braden.

  “Hi. Sorry I’m late. I couldn’t find the building,” Jane apologized.

  “Jane, this is Tim. He’s gonna be running the session.”

  Jane shook the bald guy’s hand. He had big, friendly brown eyes and a toothy smile.

  “Here.” Dana handed Jane a sheet of paper. Jane scanned it quickly.

  JANE’S V.O.S.

  My name is Jane. I just moved to L.A. with my best friend, Scarlett. I intern for one of the best event planners in the business. So far it’s been (pause) a learning experience.

  Scarlett j
ust started as a freshman at U.S.C. The only thing hotter than her SAT scores is her.

  Gabrielle works at a PR firm called Ruby Slipper. She’s finding out fast that she isn’t in Kansas anymore.

  That’s Madison. She’s always between jobs. She’s tried almost every career there is, but there’s one thing she’s always been good at (pause) spending money.

  We all moved to L.A. this summer. Some of us to work…and some of us to play. So let the games begin.

  Jane laughed a little as she read through each line. “‘The only thing hotter than her SAT scores is her’? Seriously, who wrote this?”

  Dana didn’t look amused. “Me.”

  Awkward, thought Jane as she quickly tried to backtrack. She saw Tim trying not to smile at her comment.

  “No, it’s funny. I like it.” Jane smiled, attempting to hide her embarrassment.

  “We’re running a little behind. Why don’t you hop in there?” Dana said, motioning to the smaller room on the other side of the large glass window. She was all business again, so maybe Jane’s comment didn’t faze her. Or maybe she’d get her revenge in the editing room. “Take the script with you, okay?”

  “’Kay.”

  Jane followed Tim back out the door and into the smaller room. She climbed onto the stool as Tim started plugging and unplugging different wires from the wall. He stood up and handed her a set of headphones. Then he left the room, closing the door tightly behind him. Jane could hear herself breathing through the headphones.

  “Can you hear us?” Tim’s voice echoed loudly.

  “Yeah,” Jane replied and then jumped at the amplified sound of her own voice. It was weird.

  “Okay, then.” Tim made a few adjustments to the control board. “Let’s start with the first line.” He pointed at her, signaling for her to begin.

  Jane looked down at the script and began to read. “My name is Jane. I just moved to L.A. with my best friend, Scarlett. I intern—”

  “Jane?” Dana’s voice interrupted her.

  Jane looked up from the script. She could see Dana through the window. “Yeah?”

  “Can you read it a little more…” Dana tilted her head to the side like she was searching for a word. “It’s sounding a little flat. Try reading it like you’re telling a story.”

  “Okay,” Jane said, confused. In fact, she didn’t really understand what she was reading, much less why she needed to read it like she was “telling a story.” What was this for? All Trevor’s assistant had said in her email was that Jane should show up at this studio and that she didn’t need to dress up since there wouldn’t be any cameras. When she’d asked Scar what she thought it was about, she found out Scar hadn’t been invited. Jane had been surprised, since they had done the four magazine interviews together last week, and she, Scarlett, Madison, and Gaby were scheduled to do a photo shoot together tomorrow, for the promo poster. Why was Jane being asked to do this—whatever this was—without Scar or the other girls? “I’m sorry, Dana. I don’t really get what you’re asking me to do. You want me to read these lines like they are a story?”

  “Like you’re narrating. This goes at the very beginning of the first episode. You’re basically introducing all the girls. Didn’t Trevor explain this to you?”

  “No, his assistant just told me to show up here and ask for you.”

  Dana exhaled loudly, sounding frustrated. “Okay, Trevor was supposed to explain. At the beginning of every episode we need a quick recap of the previous week. Instead of having an actor come in to do the voiceovers, Trevor wanted to have one of you girls do it.”

  “Wait, I’m doing this for every episode?” Jane asked.

  “Yeah. Apparently you’re the most relatable. They tested the pilot with several groups.”

  “Groups?”

  “Focus groups. We showed a rough cut of the pilot to a bunch of people in our demographic to get their feedback. According to them, you’re relatable.”

  “Scarlett’s relatable.”

  “To you, Jane. Not to middle America.”

  “Really?” Jane sounded puzzled. “What about Madison?”

  “Jane. No one thought that blonde is relatable.”

  Jane laughed. It was true. There weren’t many people like Madison. “Well, Gaby’s not blond.”

  “Gaby’s wonderful. She’s sweet and very pretty. But we all know Gaby isn’t exactly the brightest crayon in the box.”

  Jane tried to process what Dana was telling her. Did this mean the story was being told from her point of view? Or was she just narrating what had happened to everyone? And why hadn’t Trevor talked to her about this before she came in here today?

  “So do you understand, Jane?” Dana asked her.

  “I think so,” Jane said, adjusting her headphones as she began to read again. “My name is Jane….”

  23

  CENTER STAGE

  Madison surveyed the enormous room inside Stage 5 of the PopTV studios. Half of the space was entirely white, and the corners were rounded so that the walls flowed seamlessly into the floors. The far end was filled with couches, makeup stations, and racks of clothing on one side, a table topped with boxes of hot Starbucks coffee, assorted food—and a lot of people—on the other. She sipped her coffee, making sure not to mar her perfectly applied makeup. Nothing was going to ruin this day for her. She was even wearing a terry cloth robe over her outfit, in case of accidental spills. Not that Madison was prone to accidents. She never made mistakes and never left anything to chance.

  Today was the photo shoot for the L.A. Candy ad. The place was a beehive of activity as people set up, their voices echoing weirdly in the massive space mixing with the eighties music blaring from somebody’s iPod.

  Madison spotted Dana dodging a clothing rack as she headed in the direction of the hair and makeup area. Dropping her half-full coffee cup into a trash can, Madison followed Dana to see what was going on. Mostly she was curious to see how the other girls looked. Inside, Dana was talking to Jane and Scarlett, who seemed to have arrived just a few minutes ago. (Madison had arrived early of course.) The makeup girl was done up in jet-black eye shadow, a full set of false lashes, and hot pink lipstick—at the crack of dawn, no less—which made Madison feel doubly smug about having had her makeup done by her own person, in advance. Each station had its own rectangular mirror framed with bright, round lights, and each had a vast assortment of products (eye shadows, liners, lip glosses, blushes, and bronzers in every possible color).

  “Hi, Madison!” Jane called out in a tired but friendly voice. “Your hair and makeup look great.”

  “Thanks!” Madison reached up and touched the halo of tight ringlets on her head. She noticed that Jane had dark circles under her eyes, her skin looked pale and blotchy, and her brows were unkempt. God, how could she leave her apartment looking like that? She was lucky no one knew who she was.

  “Where’s Gaby?” Jane asked.

  “Running late,” Madison replied.

  “Late? How late? I’ve left her three messages,” Dana snapped, glancing at her watch. With the L.A. Candy premiere just a couple of weeks away, she had been even more tense and cranky than usual.

  “She’ll be here,” Madison said. “She texted me like five minutes ago. She overslept. Hi, Scarlett.”

  Scarlett nodded but didn’t say hi back. She was dressed in an oversized navy sweatshirt with the hood pulled over her wet hair, jeans, and sunglasses. She was holding a plastic plate heaped with soggy scrambled eggs, bacon strips, and half an onion bagel. Ew. How could the girl eat so much before a photo shoot? Was she always such a pig?

  “Whose insane idea was it to have a six a.m. call time?” Scarlett complained to no one in particular. She bit into the bagel, then made a face and dropped it onto her crowded plate.

  “Mine. Scarlett, this is Lana. She’ll be doing your makeup,” Dana said, pointing to the woman in the hot pink lipstick. “Ann’ll be here any minute. She’ll be doing yours, Jane.” She paused to listen to some
one on her head-piece. “Uh-huh. Oh, jeez. Back in a sec, girls,” she said, hurrying out of the room.

  Scarlett glanced warily at Lana. “I don’t like to wear a lot of makeup.”

  “Don’t worry, honey, I’ll make you look beautiful,” Lana reassured her.

  “Yeah, well. Think of the lightest possible makeup you can do. Then do it even lighter than that,” Scarlett said testily. Yeah, good plan, Madison thought. Offend the woman who’s about to do your face. Although, in this case, Scarlett was right to be cautious. On the other hand…if Lana made Scarlett look like a freak, then all the better for Madison. Jane and Gaby were cute but they weren’t exactly turning heads. But Scarlett was stunning. Of the three girls, she was the only one who rivaled Madison in the looks department.

  A petite blond woman walked over and smiled brightly at Jane. “Good morning!” Madison heard the woman introduce herself as Ann, her makeup artist. “Well, aren’t you just beautiful? You’re gonna make my job so easy!” she said cheerfully.

  Apparently 6 a.m. call times didn’t bother Ann. Neither did lying about someone’s physical appearance.

  “I don’t know about that,” Jane said, laughing.

  Yeah, Madison didn’t know about that either.

  Jane sat down at one of the stations, then glanced at Madison in the mirror. “So when’d you get your hair and makeup done, Madison? Did you get here at four a.m. or what?” she joked.

  “Oh, I used my own people,” Madison said. “I don’t trust just any stylists doing my hair and makeup. They never get it right.”

  Both Lana and Ann threw her dirty looks. Whatever.

  “Well, I was so excited about this shoot that I barely slept last night,” Jane said quickly to Ann. “So if you can make me look good, you’re a genius!”

  Madison watched as Ann began to apply a creamy moisturizer to Jane’s face with a makeup brush. Jane pointed to some magazine clippings on the mirror that showed different models, all with long lashes and doll-like pops of color on their cheeks. Then she gestured to Madison, who had the same lashes and cheeks. “Are we all gonna look like that?” Jane asked Ann.