~ OSCAR TRAPPINGS
Marie Michael did it. After a week of anxiety it was over. Sage had my Oscar. Whoever I was did not feel the pride appropriate for the honor. I felt the relief from the pressure. I just desperately wanted to get out of my dress and put the whole experience behind me.
“Byron, don’t get any ideas but please unzip me. I’ve got to get out of this dress before it suffocates me.”
“Sure, but I always have ideas. Your lips, just…wow, and your body…mmm.”
“Byron. Just treat me like your little sister and don’t try anything. I warn you, my driver will kick your ass. Please?”
I turned my back to him and lifted my hair off my back. He pulled at the zipper. I added, “It’s sewn closed. Rip it.”
He tried. He reached for the bar. “Maybe the bottle opener will work.” He tried again and asked, “So are you dating Manny?”
“No.”
“I’ve seen you look at him. The only time you’ve blown your lines was when he was on the set last fall. You think he’s hot; so why the best friend bullshit?”
“It’s not bull. We’ve been best friends since we’ve been in diapers.”
“Marie, I look at you and see a woman who needs a hug and a friend. I can give you that comfort.”
I wanted Byron that way, especially since Trish would be falling in love with Manuel even though he loved Beth, not me. I could feel my eyes water and worried that I was going to break down in tears if I said anything to him.
Of course Byron noticed. “Oh, Marie, don’t cry.” He stopped ripping the threads, moved next to me, and held me as I cried. He didn’t try to kiss me.
“Byron, please just unzip me. Honestly I didn’t need friends before this messed-up month. You’re right that I’m lonely.” I wiped my tears with my hand. “But I can barely breathe in this dress. I’m suffocating.”
He unzipped me, handed me a tissue, and poured himself another drink. I inhaled deeply and unwound. I changed while he told stories about his glorious high school days. With my t-shirt covering me, I pulled the tape off my ribs and breast. I was free of all my Oscar trappings. I could breathe.
Byron noticed that I relaxed again and put his arm around me but was careful not to push me. “Babe, it must be pretty cool to have an Oscar. You can do whatever you want now with your career. What do you think you’ll do?”
I gawped at him, puzzled. I didn’t know what he was talking about.
He explained, “Now you control what projects you want to take on. You’ll now be a member of the Academy. You get to choose, not your mommy, doll. You’ve proven yourself.”
I confessed, “My mommy is in charge of my career. I’ve entertained ideas of being in charge, but could I be, really?”
“Yes, absolutely, babe. You’re a spider. You’re in charge now.”
I smiled. A feeling of heaviness lifted from me. I floated on a web.
“So, Byron, who were you in Australia? What were you like before all this fame?”
Byron was a nice guy and loved his family. He is the youngest of four kids. He missed his brothers but missed his sister the most. His parents just celebrated their forty-year anniversary, and he was mad that he couldn’t make it to the celebration.
He talked and talked and had just started to repeat one of his stories when we got back to the San Diego set.
---
You hear about parents pushing their talented teens: athletes/performers. What is the right balance?
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