The Facade

Chapter 50

The music number of the film ended beautifully. The colorful technicolor picture finally came to a close. Standing up, I began walking out of the film. One of my hands wore a black leather glove which held my striped popcorn box, the other was without a glove in order to eat my popcorn. It was always a sad experience seeing a movie all by myself. It made me wish that someone was there to see it with me.

Stepping out of the theater, I took one last look at the marquee. In bold letters, the sign boasted that White Christmas would be showing there. It truly was a sight. I could see why so many people raved about the film.

As I walked down the street, I got a few looks. Some recognized me, and a few had unkind words to say as they passed me. When I reached a corner, I stood there waiting to cross the street. My eyes glimpsed over at a newspaper stand. Headlines like Brando & Negro Separate, Marlon & Wife Call It Quits, Another Failure For Brando?

I attempted to look forward, ignoring the outrageous headlines. I know what you're probably wondering, did he ever drop the story? The answer is no, he didn't. Marlon paid Glenn an unspeakable amount of cash to burn the evidence right in front of him.

As for Marlon and I, the rumors were true. He decided the marriage wouldn't work after all. The publicity just wasn't enough for him to continue faking. I tried to convince him to forgive me for allowing such a foolish thing to happen, but he didn't. My pride got in the way and accepted things for what they were. Our wild love was officially over.

I knew somewhere in the world Eula was grinning at newspaper.

Opening the black iron gate to my house, I stepped inside of my property and shut it behind me. For a moment, I was warmed in the bitter cold as I reminisced about what took place on that very gate. The thought of it sent a shiver up my spine.

Walking up the walkway of my home, I stepped up onto my stoop and looked through my mailbox. Going through mail, it all seemed to be junk, that is until I noticed an ornate envelope with gilt decor along the edges. After one last look around, I unlocked my front door and stepped inside.

The house was warm and cozy, my old fireplaces burned on. I shrugged off my coat and rested it on the rack. My hand softly touched the fedora that hung peacefully there. I picked it up, brushing off the light layer of dust. Then I held it close to my heart, my eyes shutting as I dreamt of the memories connected to it.

After hanging it back on the rack, I looked to the mail I'd carried in from the mailbox. Sitting in my living room, I opened he beautiful envelope. What was revealed to me was a handwritten invitation.

Dear Mrs. Taylor,

It would be a pleasure if you would join Arthur and I on New Years Eve at our 52nd St. apartment. We both enjoy your company so much, we'd love to still have you come around despite your separation from Marlon. I understand if you do not reach out after reading this. Best wishes.

Marilyn Monroe

I thought for a moment as I held the invitation. Would it be a good idea to go? Something on me told me not to, there was a fear that somehow Marlon would be there. But then another part of me which was tucked away and hidden behind my pride wanted to see him. I was curious about how he was doing.

It had been a few weeks since I last saw him. The man I thought I'd spend Christmas with was suddenly a stranger. Of course I still had feelings for him.

How could anyone get over something so special, so soon?

On New Years Eve, I wore a white cocktail dress that was strapless. The bodice was fitting with French darts along my bosom. My skirt was full and ended at my ankle. Pearls ornamented my neck along with my long gloves along my arms. I was a beauty that night, but still some sadness was with me.

After arriving at Marilyn's home, the elite was in attendance from wall to wall. I stayed to myself, watching on as stars chatted with one another. Sammy Davis Jr. chatted about music with Frank Sinatra all while Grace Kelly gushes about a new (and lucrative) affair she was having and Ella Fitzgerald laughed with James Dean.

Oh, James. Little did we know in just a few months he'd be a pleasant memory.

I walked out onto the terrace for fresh air, my champagne saucer filled to the brim. Sipping my glass, I calmly looked out at the city skyline that was lit up with lights.

"Boo." A person said. I slightly jumped, then turned around to see exactly who it was. Eartha Kitt smiled at me, wrapping me in a hug. "I've never seen you look so amazing, darling. See? I told you getting a divorce for his money was the way to go."

"We actually don't have a proper divorce yet... we're just living apart." I sighed. Earths frowned and squeezed my hand.

"Well you look great with or without him. He's not needed. Forget men! You're strong by yourself." She smiled as she shook my hand. I laughed with her, she always knew how to put a smile on my face. "You know, some men are luxuries. Especially that one."

"Who is he?" I asked as I looked across the room.

"A new kid on the scene. Troy Donahue." Eartha grinned as she looked to the blonde man. He stood tall inside the party. Blonde hair, striking blue eyes... he gave Paul Newman a run for his money. "Delicious, isn't he?"

"I'm not looking for love... or sex right now." I nodded with a frown. "But thanks for keeping up my spirits."

"No problem." Eartha smirked. As she and I looked inside of the apartment, we noticed the door open once again. My heart stopped army the sight of him.

Marlon stared at me from across the apartment. He looked great... better than he should be allowed to. It was the first time I'd seen him since our separation, yet he managed to get even more attractive. For a moment his eyes diverted from my nonchalantly, his jaw clenching as he looked around the party. His suit was perfectly tailored for his strong build, his trench coat was flung over his arm. He slicked his hair into waves— exactly how he knew I liked it. It's as if he dressed for me to see.