This Is Hollywood, Darling

Chapter 3: It's All Falling to Pieces

"Alright." Megan, the head producer, has called an emergency meeting. Malcom, Kit, Greg and I are gathered in her office; we are all on edge. "Let's get all this straightened out."

Megan is kind, she's nearly sixty and she's never asked me to lose five pounds. I liked her the first day I met her, which is sort of rare in this business. I know that she's not going to berate me or start throwing things. Nevertheless, I have disappointed her. I have failed her. And there will be consequences. 

"Yes, let's get it all straightened out." Malcom echoes bitterly.

"When did you take the videos Lottie?" Megan smiles at me, trying to make me feel better.

"I didn't take them. Rob did. And I don't know, two weeks ago."

"Are there any more?"

"No. That's it. He took them all in one night. I've never taken any others."

Malcolm leans forward, pointing a finger in my direction. "We can't be sure of that. How can we know she's telling the truth?"

Megan grimaces. "Malcom, let's try and stay calm."

"Calm? Calm?" He laughs. "I think I am being remarkably calm given the situation. This girl, this stupid girl has just ruined my film."

I flinch. I'm nineteen, I'm not a girl. And I'm not stupid. Naïve, maybe. But I'm no idiot.

"How was I supposed to know this would happen?"

Megan smiles sadly. "I know sweetie. But it has and now we need to deal with it. And unfortunately, a scandal like this can sink a film pretty quickly."

It can also ruin careers. She doesn't say it, but it's implied.

"So what do we do?" I scoot forward, making the chair rock. I'm still wearing that stupid red dress and I'm pretty certain Megan can see my underwear. Oh well. She's seen the videos; I guess she's seen all of me now. I have been exposed to the world and I didn't even need to step on stage. Thanks to the world wide web, I'm now public property. Anyone can click on me, like me, share me, undress me. All because of one dumb mistake and an iPhone. And tequila. So much tequila. 

"Well, you'll need to put out an apology statement. We'll get PR onto it. And you're going to need to contact Greyson and Rob."

Good god. What have I done? Poor Greyson. Poor, poor Greyson.

"Has Rob said anything yet?" Kit taps his pen obsessively against his thigh. He's always been a bit antsy but this has sent him into overdrive. This film was his baby. He's put in most of the work. He read the script first. He sat in on all the castings. He hand-picked Malcolm. And he's spent the first three weeks of filming making sure everything runs smoothly. If I kill this film, he will be crushed.

Megan shakes her head. "I've reached out to his manager but had no word back yet."

"Do you think he leaked them?" Kit continues tapping his pen.

"He wouldn't." I don't mean to say this; I know that it's probably better if I keep my mouth shut as much as possible. But it slips out.

"Why not?" Malcolm seems amused now. 

"He's not a fool. And I think he wants to get back with his ex-girlfriend."

Malcom rolls his eyes. "So why'd he mess around with you?"

"Because he's Rob." I say.

Rob is the lead singer of most popular rock band in the country. He's a very big deal. He's a trending topic on Twitter most days of the week. Most American girls under eighteen are in love with him. 

He landed a small role in our film, playing my ex-boyfriend, Dylan. That's how we met. He was bored and wanting something to do in between albums and worldwide tours.

My career might be over because Rob Holloway, the rock god, was bored.

He's also got a reputation as a lady's man. Since he broke up with his long time girlfriend last year, he's been getting hot and heavy with a new every day. It's a running joke in the press. No one will care that he's been fooling around with a former child star. He'll feature in the headline so they can get more clicks and sell more magazines but he won't be defamed. Besides, he isn't the only dancing drunkenly in his underwear to Britney bloody Spears. I am.

"Look, Rob doesn't matter. No one is going to care about Rob. Right now, we need to focus on Lottie." Greg pushes three printed news articles across the table. "Currently, the press is controlling the narrative and we need to take back the pen. At the moment, Lottie is being pegged as the good girl gone bad, a mistress and a cheat. We have to spin that so that it works for us."

"Nice metaphor Greg." Malcolm sniggers. "I think we should forget about re-writing the narrative and focus on starting over."

"What do you mean?" Megan says.

"I think, and I know that no one is going to like this, that we get a new lead. We're already pushing the envelope by using Ezra. Adding another ex-child star was overkill, we discussed that three months ago. But now that she's the ex-child star who cheated on her boyfriend with a womanizer, well, I think we're officially in over our heads."

"Malcom," Megan interjects. "If you want to have this discussion Lottie cannot be here. You know that."

"Lottie's a big girl." He shoots a look at me. "She'll be okay. You understand don't you, love?"

Everyone turns to look at me. Suddenly I am centre stage again, the spotlight is on me, maybe for the last time ever.

"Yes." I don't know why I say that. Because I don't understand. I absolutely cannot comprehend how this has happened.

"Good." Malcom stands up. "We'll sort the contracts out on Monday."

Megan, panicked, begins throwing words around. "Malcom sit back down. You don't make that decision, I do! We have a big problem on our hands but it doesn't mean we need to recast. We are already three weeks into shooting and most of those scenes involve Lottie. We'll be throwing away thousands of dollars if we recast now."

"Trust me," Malcom says, hand on the door, ready to leave. "If we keep her, there will be no movie."

***

My agent, Tina, calls me ten minutes after the meeting with the producers and Malcom ends. She is very, very displeased.

"Lottie, do you realise what this means for you?"

"Yes."

"Then why the hell did you let him take those pictures? How could you be so stupid?"

Excellent question. "I wasn't thinking."

"Damn straight you weren't." Tina huffs. "You are my best client, Lottie. I can't lose you."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry isn't going to save your career."

My mother calls me next.

"Lottie, what have you done?" Her voice is tight with anxiety.

"I'm sorry Mom." I'm not sure if I mean it. I feel sorry for myself, sorry for Greyson, sorry for all people who will watch that video and see the cellulite on my ass. But I don't feel sorry for my mother. If she wanted a well behaved daughter she should have raised me better.

"I told you, never, ever let anyone take pictures of you that you don't want the world to see. I warned you."

"I know."

"Poor Greyson."

"I know."

"Has he called you yet?"

"No."

"You've done an awful thing Lottie. I hope you know that."

Oh don't worry Mom, I do.