Crime, Thrillers & Mystery / Media (Analysis)

Suspense / Mystery / Comedy
81,000 words
Time period: Present

Aliya Leigh
5025 North Central Ave.
Phoenix, AZ 85012
520-405-2724
aliyaleigh@gmail.com
October 2, 2008

Media

The A-List elites are used as puppets to put on a twisted and demented show for the media

Some people get 15 minutes of being an icon, rich, powerful, the public giving them special treatment and worship the ground they walk on. But how does a person extend those 15 minutes?

Philip Morey is a talented simple-minded, mentally challenged, ego-maniacal actor who thinks people should be grateful to lick the bottom of his shoes. He created and master-minded an elaborated scandal; so he could remain in the spotlight as he almost destroys the lives and careers of two actors and a writer.

Carey Roland is an European actor, who’s sexually confused, and needs to face the truth of his own life. Peter Right is a veteran actor with an image-identity crisis, who have sunken into a violent depression and needs to rebuild his marriage with his famous Euro-pop wife. Gigi Mahan is a talented mysterious, non-confident, attention getting scriptwriter and novelist who becomes infamous when Philip accused her of attempted murder and having an affair with Peter Right; she needs to clear her name.

As their lives intertwine with one another, they find they must face their horrific demons and the drama, as Philip tries destroys them in the media.

Carey, Peter and Gigi need to keep extending their 15 minutes of fame at any cost and make Philip pay for the hurt, suffering and embarrassment he caused them; as an old man named Arthur Sterling uses them as puppets to put on a twisted show for the media.

Being a success in Hollywood comes with a price and paying for it can mean your life.

This 81,000-word suspense/mystery/comedy finished novel will show you how the rich and famous are so twisted in their own worlds; that they don’t know whose controlling their lives. The novel is like a reality television show; which shows the personal lives of the A-List without their knowledge.

My name is Aliya Leigh and I am your new client. I am full of creativity, have a positive attitude and a good business sense. I have an easy going personality. I love meeting people as I see it as an opportunity to market myself and my projects. I take criticism well, as I’m always looking to improve my work. I enjoy life so I’m always looking for something new and exciting in life. This is why I write, it gives me a chance to create and explore the exciting and interesting things of life. I am a social butterfly and enjoy talking about art, creative writing, learning, video games, computers, consumer electronics, math, science, films, sports and life. I’m open-minded about cultures, religion and politics. I am determined, hardworking, honest and dedicated individual. I am willing to help my agent in anyway; to help me and my agent to succeed.

I am a determine person, since I was born. I was born with Pyloric Stenosis. Pyloric Stenosis is a disorder; which interferes with food entering the intestines. This disorder required me to have surgery at the tender age of 3 weeks. The anesthesia could have caused me to have a hearing problem because I can’t hear certain sounds. As a result, I cannot fully hear a pronounced word, so my speech development was delayed. But now, as you can see, I can hear, read talk English and Japanese, and write. Because of this disorder, my first language was and still is American Sign Language.

Currently, I am a member of the National Writers Union board of directors (as Naeemah Small); which is a labor union for writers. I am on the disability committee to help writers who become disabled and help them to receive their benefits. I also help small production companies with projects in pre-production and during production of an indie film. I organize fundraisers for films projects and establish relationships with investors for future projects. On set, I work as a line producer and script supervision. In my free time, I do public speaking and plan events for the union, play music and dance. Also, I will be attending online college classes to pursue my BA in Marketing and Branding.

With promoting myself, I know how to market myself and I am willing to hire a publicist named Reed Johnson who lives in California for her services. I also have an editor to help me with press releases, marketing materials and all of my writings I have done. I have done readings and taught writing seminars in the past. I am willing to go the extra mile for anything I believe in and I am an over achiever in everything I do. I am well-round and know how to show myself in the media spotlight as a positive role model for young girls and others. I am willing to work hard in order for the agency to make money because I need money too. With this in mind, I am willing to do book tours, write scripts, do book readings, make appearances at any venue, travel anywhere at anytime, as well as make radio appearances. Please give me this opportunity and you won’t be sorry. I will work for the agency without any complaints and I am willing to take directions to better my career.

I have written two screenplays, Disturbia City is being currently considered.

• Disturbia City (TV, Screenplay):

Arthur Sterling uses successful creative people as puppets to put on a twisted and demented show for the media; he helped Philip Morey gain fame with an elaborated scandal, but almost destroy the lives and careers of Carey Roland, Peter Right and Gigi Mahan who need to face and hide their own demons - to remain in the spotlight.

• ID (TV or Mini-Series, Screenplay):

The world governments created a powerful secret weapon, which was found dead in an apartment. Detectives Johnson and Garza must solve the mystery behind the dead body, but they also need to save themselves from people who don’t want them to uncover government secrets.

Credits:

Projects:

Kimmie Hendricks - Celebrity Hair Stylist, Press Release 2007
“Cyber Pirates”, Script 2007
“ID”, Script 2006
“Christ is Lord”, Book Review 2006
“The Navajo”, Essay 2005
“Fractured”, Press Release 2005
“Who” , Script 2005
“Stress”, Poem 1997
“Confused”, Poem 1996
“Mind Reader”, Short Story 1995
“I Hate You”, Flash Story 1996
“The Mirror”, Short Story 1993

Novels:

“Media 2”, Novel 2007
“Media”, Novel 2006
“Shadow Creatures”, Novel 2006
“Cyber Pirates”, Novel 2004
“Mystery”, Novel 2004

 

Writing Pieces:

Freelance Web Writer / Origins and History, Karmakast.com 2007
Freelance Web Writer, NWU Newsletter 2007
Drama Critic and Events, 944 Online Zine 2007
Aliya Leigh Zine, Chief Editor and Writer 2005 – 2006

Film:

“The Return of Terry Tate”, (Pre-production) Producer, 2008
“2 Chair”, Consultant 2006
“Fractured”, Script Supervisor 2005

Appearances and Lectures:

Southwest Society of Association, Lecture about NWU 2005
Sands Point Awards, Presenter 2005

Organizations:

NWU (Head of the Disability Committee) (Naeemah Small), Trustee 2007 – 2009

Indie Producers, Member 2005 - 2008

Southwest Society of Association, Member 2005 – 2007

Pen Women, Member / Acting VP 2005 – 2006

Horror Writers Association, Member 2005

 

I have included the first chapter of “Media”.

You can contact at 520-405-2724 or aliyaleigh@gmail.com.

 

Thank you for your time.

Aliya Leigh

_____________________________________________

 

 

 

Suspense / Thriller / Comedy
81,000 words
Time period: Present

Aliya Leigh
5025 North Central Ave.
Phoenix, AZ 85012
520-405-2724
aliyaleigh@gmail.com
October 2, 2008

 

Media
By Aliya Leigh

 

 

Chapter 1

On the expensive strip of sidewalk that people believed was painted with gold, there was the Beverly Hills sign that stood with pride, the Academy Awards building in a golden shell, car shops, fashion shops, a mall where the stars go shopping rather than window shopping, and a normal restaurant with a bar in the center of the sidewalk. For the rest of the people who weren’t stars of the media, this restaurant served as a rescue beacon of normality of the rich sidewalk.

In the restaurant, Peter was sitting at a table looking at the people walking outside with their shopping bags. He had on his favorite beat-up leather hat, and grew a light mustache and light beard to cover his identity. With his white T-shirt, dark blue jeans, and vintage sneakers, he looked like a twenty-one-year-old man, but his muscles and cracking bones told him a different story.

“Do you want anything, sir?” a waitress asked.

“Nothing now. I’m waiting for a friend.”

“Okay,” the waitress said and walked away to serve the other patrons.

Peter was fascinated with people. In France, he sat in the park and studied how people walked, talked, listened, looked, and smelled. He tried to imitate them. This study of people improved his skills to act like the characters in his films. He was the best in the business when it came to accents. Peter Right was born and raised in a rural part of Kentucky with his three brothers, one sister, and both parents who were trained farmers from childhood. He was a country boy with a thick southern accent. His brothers followed the family code and became farmers, but for Peter and his sister, they knew they were meant for better things in life. His sister left Kentucky for New York to go to college. Peter and some friends started a rock band that became successful, but only locally. One day, he volunteered to act in a play and he co-starred with Rory Darter, whose family produced the biggest directors in the business. In Rory’s family, when you were born, instead of getting a rattle, you got a camera and a crew. Rory made a bet with Peter to audition for a movie and the rest became history.

“Hello, my friend,” Carey said.

Carey’s face looked like the sun in its glory. He looked rested and ready to face the torrent of waves of the media world. Peter gave his true friend a manly hug. Before working on The Ship, Peter felt alone in the media world because he couldn’t trust anyone. The friends he associated with before he got married used and drugged him. At first, when Peter met Carey, they didn’t get along. Peter was a veteran actor and had presence on the set, as Carey was new to acting and only got popular because of his role in Files. One night, they had a serious talk about life and at that moment the two became best friends. The age difference between them wasn’t a problem. Carey made Peter feel young and Peter helped Carey with the media and his acting. They were like Cheech and Chong.

“How are you doing?” Peter asked.

“Fine, but I wish I could go home on holiday.”

Peter and Carey walked over to the bar as best friends who both needed comfort and understanding of the world around them. They were blessed to have one another in the media. Carey could talk about his problems with Peter and Peter could do the same without thinking the information was going to be leaked out into the newspapers or entertainment news.

“I got a script from a producer two weeks ago. I love the script, but I need a New York accent,” Carey explained.

“Carey, just watch some movies about New York. Try to copy their accent, how they move, and most importantly the way they talk with their hands,” Peter said.

“See, like this. What are you talkin’ about?”

“Spot on,” Carey said.

“See, just study real people and imitate them,” Peter said. Peter looked at Carey. “You don’t need this part. You can star in another movie.”

“Peter, I have to prove myself to the world. I’ll leave it at that,” Carey said.

“Okay.”

Peter placed his elbows on the table and Carey noticed something on his arm. “Peter, you have a cut on your arm.”

“Oh that. It’s nothing. I was playing with the twins and I cut my arm on one of their toys,” Peter explained. Carey looked satisfied with the answer Peter gave him. When Peter got yanked into the business again, he practiced that line every day, so it could be said causally. Up to this point, everyone had been satisfied with that answer and never questioned it.

“How are the children?” Carey inquired.

“They’re fine.”

“And Paulette?”

“Okay. She doesn’t like me visiting America. But Carey, I miss it here. I love everything about America, except maybe for the drama.”
A black girl walked over to the two actors. She gave them a friendly smile. She was wearing tan shorts with a worn out belt that needed to retire, a brown tank top with spaghetti straps, and a gold watch on her wrist. Her black hair was in a bun with the help of an elastic band.

“What’s your poison?” the black girl asked.

“Excuse me, what do you mean?” Carey asked the girl.

The girl looked at him and rolled her eyes. She stared at him as if he annoyed her. She was trying her best to be on good behavior at the restaurant. Usually, when she mentioned the line, “What’s your poison?” the patron knew what she was talking about. She had other places to be and other things to do, but she promised the manager that she would cover for an employee’s shift. In her mind she thought, Why today? Why now?

“Okay. What would you like to drink?” the black girl asked in a slow and understandable tone.

“I see. Mm, I will try a coffee. I am going Yank today,” Carey said happily.

“Oh, what joy,” the girl said and rolled her eyes.

The waitress looked at Peter and smiled at him with a little bit of excitement. She knew who Peter Right was and was his biggest fan before he disappeared from the scene. She believed in her mind that it was an honor to serve him any drink or dish. She was afraid if he touched her, she might pass out.

“And you?”

“Water,” Peter said.

“One coffee and one water,” the waitress told the man standing at the bar. He looked at her, nodded with understanding, and continued to work. The waitress looked at Carey with a sigh. “Would you like cream with your Yank coffee?” she asked while imitating his English accent just to insult him.

“Yes, please,” said Carey.

“Cream,” she said to the man and he nodded while he worked.

Carey listened to the girl talk. He was aware she was making fun of him, but her accent overshadowed the insult. Actually, he was used to it. On one movie set, an Irish actor who was known to insult any person he talked to would sometimes talk to Carey in a brutally choppy English accent. Carey was upset at first, but then he got used to it. The Irish actor made him a strong person in the spotlight and he was thankful for it.

“Where do you come from?” Carey asked.

“Why?”

“Because of your accent.”

“Oh. New York.”

“What?”

She rolled her eyes up and then looked at Carey. She wasn’t planning to give a person a geography lesson. She was here to do a job, not teach school. “New York is located on the eastern side of the United States of America. You should know where New York is located. The English bought it from the Dutch. I come from Queens,” she said impatiently.

Carey rolled his eyes and looked at her. “I tried to be patient with you, but you are rude. Do you know who we are?” Carey couldn’t take her attitude any longer. He couldn’t believe a person who made their living off of tips would treat customers in this manner. He was hoping she could see them as celebrities, so she could have a better knowledge on how she should act. Maybe if she knew we are celebrities, she will treat us nicer.

The black girl laughed in front of him. The two actors looked at each other, thinking this girl was nuts. They looked at her and studied the image in front of them. Usually, when they went to a restaurant or a bar, they were treated like kings, but this was the first time they were laughed at by a non-celebrity.

“Yes, I am rude and yes, I do know who you two are and no, I don’t care.” The black girl walked over to get the glass of water and the cup of coffee from the prep table behind the bar. She brought the items to the two men with a devilish smile. She grabbed a saucer for Carey’s coffee cup and a handful of creamers. “Here is your coffee and here is your water.”

Peter studied the girl and could see Satan himself in front of him. This was the first time a person ever treated him this way. He had a feeling she was up to something or really didn’t care about the customers she was serving. He couldn’t believe a person could be this antisocial as a server on this expensive restaurant. During the conversation with the girl and Carey, Peter was watching her body movements. Peter could tell she was a New Yorker, but there was something else about her that she was not trying to show. Peter looked at her watch and saw the name on the face. He knew that it was worth a few hundred dollars. “Why are you here if you’re rude to the customers?” Peter wanted to know.

The waitress looked at Peter, and for the first time during the conversation, she was speechless. She gathered her thoughts and found her smart tongue. Peter caught her off-guard and now she had to say something that was believable. “Well, hmm, I want to be an actress. Yeah, an actress. I do bartending full-time and I go to school in Arizona.”

“Why are you here?” Peter asked. He was questioning her to see if she would reveal her true motives toward the two actors.
“Visiting,” she replied.

Peter could see the girl was not telling the whole truth by her body movements and the way she was stuttering her words. Peter looked at Carey and saw that he had an interest in her, maybe not her body, but her accent. He knew Carey wouldn’t listen to him at this point when he wanted something.

“Would you like to make some extra money?” Carey asked nonchalantly.

“What are you asking me?” she said, as she tilted her head to the side and her almond-shaped eyes became little slits under her eyebrows.

Carey realized he just put his foot in his mouth and wished he could take the question back. “Well, see, I must know how to talk like a New Yorker. Can you teach me? I shall pay you.”

“No, you will not pay me to teach you how to speak with a New York accent, but you can take me out to dinner. Do you treat your girlfriend like this? Do you like women?”

“I must talk with a New York accent,” Carey repeated.

“I’ll think about it,” she said.

The girl looked at Peter sipping his glass of water. “By the way, how is France? Do the French treat you well?”

“Why do you want to know all this?” Peter asked. He didn’t know if she was going to be rude to him in the same way she was rude to Carey. He wanted to prepare himself for her venom tongue.
“I’m just wondering. I’m not going to put your business on the Net. I’m a longtime fan of yours and I’m happy you’re back. Some of the movies you made sucked, but I’m happy to see you again. When I was younger, I had a crush on you.”

Peter smiled at her and saw a halo over her devious head. In his mind, he knew that she was sincere about her comments. For the first time since he came back into the business, she was the only one who made a comment like that to him.

“Thanks, it’s nice to be here,” Peter said.

“But keep it up. You’re a good actor and you look so young for your age. I’m so happy you settled down with a wife and kids. Listen, I’m not a weird fan or planning to stalk you. I just read an article about you in a magazine.”

“No, I understand. Thank you for the comments,” Peter said.

Peter didn’t understand this girl in front of him. She wasn’t acting like a normal fan or budding actress. She wasn’t treating them like celebrities, slipping her portfolio to them or trying to get any contacts. He had a weird feeling about her as if she were playing a role that she didn’t want to be part of, but needed to stay in character.
Carey was staring at the table with a depressed look. She walked in front of Carey and put her hand under his chin and lifted up his face. She gave him a warm smile to show that she did possess some type of affection. “For you, I will ask my boss about my work schedule. Okay?”

Carey smiled at her and she walked away from the area.

Peter looked at Carey. “Are you sure about her?”

Carey nodded. He knew what Peter was thinking about because he thought it too. “There is something about her. I do not know what it is, but it is something she is not telling us. But I need to learn her accent for this movie,” Carey argued.

“Okay, I cleared it with my boss. I’m free tonight. Are you finished with your coffee? I have to go to my hotel room and change my clothes. It won’t take long. Peter, do you want to join us?” The girl walked back to the bar area causally.

“No. You have fun. I prefer to rest after my flight,” Peter replied.

Taking his wallet out of his pocket he said to Carey, “I have this.”

“Thanks.”

Peter put the money on the table and the girl took it. She placed the money in the cash register and put the tip in her pocket. She walked over to the two men who had been staring at her when she was at the cash register. She didn’t know what they were thinking and didn’t much care. She was happy to be receiving a tip from the actors and getting a free dinner.

“What’s your name?” Peter asked the girl. He and Carey had been talking to this girl and didn’t even know her name. He realized she never volunteered her name to them either. With this thought planted in his mind, he knew she definitely had something to hide.

“Gigi,” she said.

“And your last name?” Peter asked.

Gigi looked at Carey and then at Peter. “Well,” Gigi cleared her throat. “Carey, are you finished?”

Carey looked at her and then at Peter. Peter gave him a concerned look. Peter knew Gigi was avoiding the subject of her last name. He would get to the bottom of her holding back information.

“Yes, I am.”

“Okay. My hotel is in walking distance,” Gigi said.

Peter and Carey stood up and Gigi walked out from behind the bar. Peter whispered something in Carey’s ear. Peter didn’t believe Gigi was a threat to Carey, but there was something about her.
“You kids just go. Carey, I’ll be at the hotel if you need anything.”
Peter left the restaurant and Carey stood with Gigi. He didn’t know what he was getting himself into or who this girl was, but he desired her accent.

“Shall we go?” Carey asked.

“Sure,” Gigi replied.

Carey walked to the door and opened it for Gigi. She thanked him and he followed her lead.

The late afternoon rush to the shops was underway. People had their bags in both hands and were walking in and out of shops like the world was going to end tomorrow.

Carey and Gigi walked down the block with the crowd. Ahead of them was the hotel. When they arrived in the lobby, it looked like a palace with palms trees inside.

“This hotel looks better than mine,” Carey laughed.

“Oh,” Gigi answered back in a questionable tone.

The floor in the lobby was tan marble. There were two palm trees planted on both sides of the door. The front desk looked like it was carved out of stone marble as well as the stairs leading up. There were stone benches sitting silently beyond the front desk.
Carey looked at Gigi and then at the lobby area. He was trying to figure out how she could afford this.

“Okay. You can stay in the lobby or come up to my room. It doesn’t matter to me,” Gigi said to Carey.

Carey thought of what to do. If he stayed in the lobby, he would attract attention. If he followed Gigi to her room, what would happen there? Carey looked at her with a hint of caution in his eyes, but he felt comfortable around her.

“Carey, what do you want to do? I don’t have all the time in the world like you, you know.”

“I am a gentleman,” Carey said with a serious face.

Gigi laughed at him. He questioned her with his eyes.

“Oh, please. You are not that good-looking. The reason I mentioned my room is that I know you don’t want to bring attention to yourself. If you’re waiting on the bench in the lobby that may bring some attention and I don’t want Sandra to think you’re cheating on her. Right now, it’s the afternoon rush; no one cares at this moment.”

“I am sorry. You know a lot about how entertainers act,” Carey said.

“You just know. Follow me.”

Carey followed Gigi to the elevators. Carey looked around his environment and Gigi looked at him.

“What are you doing?” Gigi asked.

“Looking around,” Carey said with one of Gigi’s attitude looks.

“You’re standing too close to me and stop looking around. You’re not even wearing a hat and sunglasses, you know,” Gigi pointed out.
Carey looked at her surprised. He took her advice and just stared at the floor not saying a word. When the elevator reached the ground level, it opened wide. People streamed out, as if the elevator were filled with water and Gigi, Carey, and other people standing behind them were pushed about like algae in the sea.

“There are cams,” Gigi whispered to Carey, as she walked onto the elevator.

Carey followed her lead, but he stood away from her and continued to look at the floor. Gigi was close to the floor buttons on the wall of the elevator.

When the elevator reached the twelfth floor, the door opened. Carey and Gigi pushed through the tight little crowd until they got out. Carey acted like he didn’t know Gigi and Gigi did the same. When Gigi opened her hotel room door, they both looked around in the hallway. The hallway seemed clear, so they both scooted in the room quickly.

“Okay. This is the tour,” Gigi said.

Carey looked around the room; it was more of an apartment than a room. There was a living room, dining room, kitchen, and by the looks of it, a bathroom was in the bedroom. The room looked better than his.

“I shall sit in the living room,” Carey announced.

“Okay. I have bottles of juice in the fridge.”

“Thank you.”

Gigi walked into the bedroom and closed the door.

In the living room, the walls were painted bone white with gold trim. The carpet was soft and deep. Carey took off his shoes and his feet fell deep into the colored sea. The loveseat and the chair were colored in an array of browns. In the middle of the living room, there was a glass coffee table. Carey saw a white loose-leaf notebook on it. He took a closer look at the notebook. It had the title “New York Minute” on the front.

“What is this?” Carey asked out loud.

Carey wanted to pick it up but he didn’t want to look through her things. He looked around to shift his attention away from the notebook, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“Who is this woman?” Carey whispered.

Gigi walked out of the bedroom and into the living room. She saw the notebook on the coffee table, closed her eyes tight, and opened them again. Carey stared at Gigi. She had on a tight brown and black T-shirt with torn, light blue jeans.

“What’s wrong?” Gigi asked.

“You know about the movie, New York Minute?”

“Oh, the notebook on the table,” Gigi said stalling. “Oh yeah, I’m trying out for the part of the girl,” Gigi continued.

“Really, I am auditioning for the lead in the part,” Carey said.

“The New York accent. I got it,” Gigi said.

“Yes, you see. I need your accent,” Carey replied.
“I see.”

“Who is your agent?” Carey asked.

“She doesn’t like me to mention her name.”

Carey was confused because agents always wanted to be noticed in the media; they were always looking for clients. If an agent didn’t want to be known in the business, they had a bad reputation or they were not legit.

“How much do you pay the agent?” Carey asked curiously.

“Nothing, she gets ten percent of my earnings,” Gigi said with confidence.

To Carey, that deal wasn’t bad. His agent got thirty percent of all of his earnings and his manager got thirty percent. Plus, he had to pay his spokesperson, personal assistant, and accountant. Half of his own earnings went to the people who worked for him. Gigi’s agent just getting ten percent for what she made, he wanted to be a client. Maybe he didn’t have to work so hard.

“Can we go?” Gigi asked.

“Right.”

“Remember, we don’t know each other,” Gigi said.

“Wait, I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Okay.”

Carey walked to the bathroom and closed the door. He sat on the toilet seat to think about the situation. If Gigi were a new actress in the media world, she would want to be seen with me, right? If she were seen with me, then she would be popular.

Carey took a deep breath and stood up. As a habit, he flushed the toilet and washed his hands. He opened the door and walked toward Gigi. “Shall we?” Carey asked.

“Okay.”

Stepping out the front door, Gigi put on her sunglasses and waited for the elevator. When it arrived she got on. As soon as the elevator doors shut, Carey peeked out of the room and into the hallway. He started to walk out of the room, but he stared at notebook on the table. He shook his head and walked to the elevators. Arriving in the lobby, he looked for Gigi. He saw her in the gift shop buying something. He stared at her, hoping she could feel his eyes on her and like magic she glanced at him with her sunglasses on and nodded at him showing recognition. Carey walked out of the hotel and waited for Gigi on the sidewalk. She joined him outside and pointed in the direction they were going.

“Where are we going?” Carey asked.

Gigi and Carey acted as if they were in their own little world so that they didn’t bring attention to themselves.

“We’re going to Tuesdays.”

“What do they serve at that restaurant?”

“American and Mexican food.”

“Good,” Carey said.

Inside the restaurant, the place looked more like a place to hang with friends then an upscale restaurant he was used to when eating with friends in the States. There people were playing video games, watching television, sitting at the bar, and listening to music. By looking at the surroundings, the restaurant made him see what type of girl Gigi was, but she still had a mysterious side that he needed to tap into. While the host showed them a booth, Gigi took off her sunglasses.

“You know, you’re kinda good-looking in dark light,” Gigi said with a smirk.

Carey is a celebrity and every girl and woman fantasized about him and treated him like a model or a god. However, Gigi treated him like a normal person. She didn’t see him as a star and anything special like that, only as a person. He was confused and didn’t know why she wasn’t taking advantage of him and of his status. He was waiting for her to take a picture of him or get on her cell phone and brag to her friends that she was with Carey Roland, the actor and model. Gigi seemed to be treating Carey as a person, a true friend, not taking advantage of him like everyone else.

“Can you be serious for once?” Carey asked.

“Whatever. Anyway, so you want to talk like a New Yorker.”

“Yes, I do.”

“The rule is do not pronounce your R’s.”

“Right.”

“Yep. For example, I saw the ca. Or, I will see you lata,” Gigi
explained.
“Right.”

“Yes. Right,” Gigi said, making fun of his accent.

“I must not pronounce the R’s at the end of the word.”

“Correcto,” Gigi said.

“I can learn the accent in a few hours,” Carey said confidently.
Gigi looked at the table and smiled. She sucked her teeth and looked at him again. She knew he was dreaming. This wasn’t Peter Right in front of her. She read in a magazine that it even took him a few days to learn an accent. She lived in New York all her life and some people believed she didn’t talk like a real New Yorker, like the ones they saw on television and in the movies.

“What do you think?” Carey asked Gigi.

“The truth is that I don’t think you can learn a New York accent in a few hours. It takes time.”

“I reckon I can,” Carey said.

“If you believe so,” Gigi replied disbelievingly.

Carey and Gigi sat at their table on the side of the wall. They were acting like normal people who were hanging out. No one was around them, taking pictures, asking for autographs, or slipping Carey their portfolio.

“Hello. I’ll be your waitress tonight. My name is Lynn.”

“Hello, Lynn,” Carey said to the waitress.

The waitress had long brown straight hair, brown eyes, and an olive skin tone. She looked young, like around eighteen. Gigi studied her closely and saw that she was well kempt – a person who didn’t need to have a job.

In her sweet childlike voice she asked, “What would you like to drink?”

“Mountain Dew, please,” said Gigi.

“Coffee, please,” Carey said.

Lynn wrote down the orders and walked away.

“You did it,” Gigi said excitedly.

“Did what?”

“You said coffee with a New York accent,” Gigi exclaimed.
“Coffee. I saw a television show about New York and the guy said coffee. Peter said that I must listen to how people speak,” Carey explained.

“Correcto. He’s right.”

“See, I am learning,” Carey said smiling.

“Whoopee. You said one word. In the script, you have to feel like a New Yorker. Live the lifestyle. You know, you have to be a New Yorker.”

“I understand. I want to pass the audition first and then I can study my role closely,” Carey said.

Gigi looked at him and said, “Did you follow the same procedures for Young Boys?”

“Why do you ask?”

“If you did, that explains everything,” Gigi said.

“Excuse me?”

“How do you think you did in Young Boys?”

“Excellent. I captured the essence of the character.”

Gigi had been waiting to have this conversation with Carey for a long time. She saw Young Boys with her friend Cinda. They both thought the movie was done badly, but Carey’s performance was poor beyond anything they could think of. Before Young Boys, Carey had been in different movies, which he performed to perfection. In Young Boys, Carey’s family and the person who he had conflicts with spoke with an American accent, while he spoke with an English accent. The movie was so bad that Gigi and Cinda demanded their three dollars back from the cheap theater.

“Yes. It was a perfect role for me,” Carey continued, reminiscing.

“How did you get the role?” Gigi asked.

“I auditioned. Why all the questions?”

“Do you want to hear the truth?” Gigi asked.

Carey looked flustered with Gigi’s questions and comments about the movie he made with the top actors and actresses in the world. Plus, he showed the media that he could be sexy, love women, and act outside the realm of Files. He needed that role to prove to the world and himself that he was not a one hit wonder.

“Right. The truth,” Carey said with his right eyebrow raised.

“Hello, here are your drinks,” Lynn said cheerily.

Lynn passed out the drinks and then asked Gigi, “What would you like to eat?”

Gigi gave the menu back to Lynn. “Steak fajitas.”

“And you, sir?” Lynn asked Carey.

“The same,” Carey replied, giving her back the menu.
Lynn wrote the order on her pad, put the menu under her right arm, and walked away.

“You like steak fajitas?” Gigi asked Carey.

“You must not change the subject,” Carey said.

“Well, first of all,” Gigi started, after she drank some of her soda, “you’re good-looking with and without clothes on, but did you realize your family didn’t speak with an English accent? Not only were you the only person in the whole movie that spoke with an English accent, everyone else spoke with an American accent. Plus, the role you picked for yourself was the wrong choice,” Gigi continued.

“What?”

“Yes, I finally said it. I can’t wait to tell Cinda,” Gigi said more to herself than Carey.

“What?”
Carey fought to get the role in Young Boys. He even did something to get the role that he didn’t want to do again. He got bad reviews, but all the women loved his naked body. Now he was sitting across from a person who was telling him the bad reviews to his face. He didn’t know what to say or what to think after that. He felt bad, but the public spoke.

“I’m sorry. My friend and I asked for our money back from that movie,” Gigi confessed.

“No, I am sorry,” he said, looking down.

“Just pick better roles, please. I enjoy you in roles you can play, not roles you can’t play. Not everyone can play every single character they see in a script. Look at Peter. He can play characters with different accents who are strangers to the outside world, but I know he couldn’t play Batman in a movie.”

“Do your friends criticize your acting?” Carey asked.

“Yes, all the time. They criticize me about anything I do. When I become a big star, they will always be my friends. I love them.”
“How many friends do you have?” Carey inquired.

“Four.”
“I must say, you have a normal life,” Carey said.

“Yep. I hope to keep it that way.”

“I have to use the bathroom,” Carey said suddenly.

“You’re a grown man, you don’t have to make an announcement,” Gigi said.

“I hope you do become big one of these days. The media will love your pleasant attitude,” Carey said sarcastically.

“I know they will.”

Carey walked to the bathroom with his head down. He sat on the toilet with the seat down; his favorite seat to think things out.
Young Boys was a film about a family living through the Great Depression. Carey was one of the sons of a coalminer who lost his job. In the movie, Carey had sex (fake act) with his girlfriend, the beautiful Jamie Rowels, so he could forget about the depression. Carey’s goal in acting in the film was to show the American audience he could play in an American role about American lives. He also wanted to show the audience he had a good-looking body without clothes on. While he told the media about his hard work on the set, the critics and reviews had said he was lousy, lazy, and hard to watch, and an English person acting in an American epic turned them off. The reviews did hurt Carey’s feelings because in order to get into the film, he had to do something he wanted to forget. He knew his accent wasn’t right for the part, but the director told him not to worry, his acting and good-looking body would make up for the accent.

Carey started to cry and the tears burned his hands and cheeks like pure acid. After a moment, he wiped his face with his hands, said a little prayer, and crossed himself. He walked out of the stall and looked in the mirror. He saw a good-looking celebrity looking back at him. “I am better now,” Carey said to himself and left the bathroom.
At the bathroom door he looked at Gigi and thought, For a beginner in the business, she is rude. You would think that she would want to build up contacts, instead of burning bridges.

“So, how did you like the script?” Carey asked Gigi when he sat down at the table.

“I loved it!” Gigi said.

“Why?”

“The message behind it.”

“You mean the love storyline?” Carey asked.

“No, the message about life and how you should live,” Gigi explained.
“Excuse me? I don’t understand.” He read the script, but he didn’t get the same underlying message Gigi got. He thought the movie was about love between a successful white man and a beautiful black woman who possessed crystal blue eyes.

Gigi looked at Carey and put her fork down.

“Did you read the script?”

“Yes,” Carey said.

“Did you read the book?”

“There is a book?” Carey asked.

“Yes. But even if you didn’t read the book, you should have gotten the message. Live your own life to the fullest every day because you may not be able to get a second chance in life.”

“In the script, it’s about a man who is a playboy and then falls in love with a woman. When the woman leaves him, he is depressed. The script made me understand what true love is and how it makes you feel,” Carey explained.

“That’s true, but maybe you should have read the book. It was on the best sellers list last year and this year.”

While Gigi and Carey finished eating, they talked about the script, which turned into a conversation about the movie industry. He didn’t tell her about all the horror stories about the industry because he was afraid that he might tell on himself. He knew he had suffered a lot to get where he is today; it still gives him nightmares. He had asked himself several times why he needed to be in the media spotlight. He knew he could act on television shows or in plays in the UK, but he had a drive to be known in America and all over the world for that matter.

“So, is it worth being known as an A-list actor?” Gigi asked.
Carey smiled at her. He had to say yes, but in his heart, he knew that he should say no. Before he became an A-list actor, his life was free. He could go anywhere without a mob following him. He was able to keep his private life off of the papers in England and America. Now he couldn’t trust some people even if they were mega stars like him. He felt trapped in a role he didn’t want to play.

“I want to be on top, too. I’m striving for that, but I’m scared. You know, like the guys with the cameras and the false stories about the person. Since I have you here, are some of the stories in the tabloids true?” Gigi pressed.

“Some tales, I know personally, are true, some are false. If the tabs write an article about a friend of mine, which I know is false, I laugh about it. Some actors, as I understand, make up drama to get into the tabs,” Carey said.

“I thought so,” Gigi replied.

“Why read the tabs?” Carey asked.

“When I’m standing in line at the market, I glance at them and read the front cover. This may sound strange, but it seems like all the major actors and actresses are swapping their husbands and wives, girlfriends and boyfriends with one another.”

Carey laughed. In his mind, she was right. It seemed that way, but it could all be a lie, like the lie of his relationship with Sandra.
“How’s Sandra?” Gigi asked.

“She is fine.”

“Will she be in any movies soon?”

“Yes. Her agent gave her a script three weeks ago,” Carey said.

“That’s good. She’s a good actress.”

“Thanks. I will tell her,” Carey said to Gigi after he put his fork down on the plate. “Do you have a partner?” Carey asked.

“What do you mean? I’m not gay,” Gigi frowned.

“In England, we say partner instead of girlfriend or boyfriend.”

“Oh. Yeah, I did, but we broke up.”

“You two broke up, why?” Carey asked.

“He’s bipolar. I couldn’t take his attitude and constant mood swings anymore,” Gigi said.

“Bipolar. How long did you date him?” Carey asked.
“Six years. We were going to get married. I moved from Phoenix to Tucson so he can’t find me.”

“Are you finished?” she asked in the same breath as she looked at his plate.

“Yes,” Carey said.

Gigi raised her finger to get the attention from the waitress. The waitress looked at the Gigi curiously and then thought about who she was.

“Was everything okay?” Lynn asked.

“Yes,” Gigi said.

“Good. Are you an entertainer or celebrity?” Lynn asked Gigi.

“No, but I’m trying to become an actress.”

“No. You’re somebody,” Lynn pressed.

“I don’t think so, but thanks anyway.”

“No. Thank you. Can you sign your name here anyway? When you become famous, I can say I have her autograph.”

Gigi looked at Carey and laughed. Carey stared at Gigi; he knew something was not right. He had a feeling that Gigi was hiding something from him and he wanted to know what it was. Carey saw Gigi sign her name on a piece of paper and give Lynn a hug.
“Thank you and here’s your bill.”

Lynn put the bill on the table and Carey picked it up. He looked at Gigi. “Who are you?”

Gigi smiled at him and then rolled her eyes. “What? Who am I? What are you talking about?”

“The waitress recognized you, not me,” Carey said.

“So now you’re jealous? I’m a nobody. I didn’t introduce you because of Sandra. I don’t want your girlfriend to think you’re cheating on her. You know the tabloid can blow things out of proportion,” Gigi said.

“I understand, but she thought you looked like someone.”
“Listen, I don’t know, but I signed my first autograph and I’m not even in a movie yet.”

“Get used to it,” Carey said.

Carey put his credit card in the folder and waited for the waitress.
As he stared at the mysterious person across from him, he realized that this was not a normal situation. In a normal situation, she would try to take advantage of this dinner. She would make sure that everyone in the restaurant knew she was with him and wouldn’t care about Sandra’s feelings, but this wasn’t normal. He was having dinner with a regular person who didn’t want anything from him.
After Carey signed the bill.

The two walked out of the restaurant together talking and laughing. The air was crisp and fresh with a hint of romance. The sidewalk had clusters of people who were looking around at the scenery of the rich and famous. Gigi and Carey found themselves in their own world walking to her hotel like they were best friends.

Carey already knew he would not be able to learn her accent in time for tomorrow’s auditions. After dinner and talking to this mysterious girl, he was more interested in her instead of her accent. He knew that he still needed to find a black girl who was famous and that the public loved. Gigi wasn’t at that stature yet. She had a bad attitude, a smart mouth, and was rude, but she acted real and wasn’t a fake. He couldn’t help her in the industry, but he did want to be her friend.
In front of Gigi’s hotel, they shook hands and Gigi said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Good. After the auditions, maybe we can go sightseeing,” Carey suggested.

“What about Sandra?”

“I shall call her tonight and tell her everything about you. I believe she shall fancy you. You two act almost alike.”

“Okay. I would like to meet her. Well, see you tomorrow,” Gigi said and waved good-bye. She entered the hotel without looking back while Carey stood around outside until he was sure she was safely inside.

Carey walked over to the same restaurant where he met Gigi. Outside the restaurant he called Peter on his cell phone. He paced up and down the little area. “Hello, Peter. Are you up?” Carey asked.
“Is everything fine? Did she hurt you? I’ve been waiting for your call,” Peter said.

“No. No. She is fine. She is auditioning for the same movie. Peter, I am confused. I need to talk to you in person. Can you meet me at the restaurant?”

“Will do,” Peter said.

“I shall look for you.”

Carey went into the restaurant and ordered a glass of water with a slice of lemon. He looked around the restaurant and studied the people sitting, but with short glances. Thirty minutes later, Peter showed up and sat next to Carey with concern written on his face. Peter was wearing the same clothes he had on earlier in the day, but he looked disheveled. The scab on his arm looked like it was picked off, and now was caked with blood.

“So, what happened?” Peter asked.

“She is a nice girl named Gigi.”

“So…” Peter urged.

“I think I fancy her.”

“Okay. So Carey, give me a clue. Why are you confused?” Peter asked.

“Because.”

Carey leaned closer to Peter and whispered his dark secret.
Peter stared at Carey, as if he was looking inside his soul. “What? I defended you. You could have told me the truth, we’re friends,” Peter said.

“Yes, but I don’t know myself anymore. At first, I thought I was, but now I don’t know. I am confused, Peter.”

“And Sandra? Does she know? How were you able the hide it from her?” Peter asked.

“Fake relationship. I needed her for show, as she needed me. Arthur told me I needed a girlfriend and I picked her,” Carey said.

“I would be careful around Arthur if I were you. Who is he, anyway?” Peter asked.

“A friend.”

“Is he more than a friend? Tell me the truth.”

“Right, a friend.”

“I heard the rumor about your lifestyle and I defended you. I told people you and Sandra are in love and you were planning to marry her one day,” Peter said.

“I am sorry I lied,” Carey said.

“We’re friends. Good friends. I would accept you even if you were a cross dresser. You’re my best friend. I would never turn my back away from you,” Peter said seriously.

“True.”

Peter ordered a glass of water from the man behind the bar. Carey fixed his eyes on Peter’s cut again. He saw it was bleeding a little, but nothing to get worried about.

“So, do you like this girl or do you wish she was a man?” Peter asked.

“I fancy her a lot. It seems that we have chemistry, but she is not telling me the whole truth about her life. I don’t know who she really is.”

“Do you think she’s a reporter?” Peter asked.

“No, she does not seem the type.”

“I would do some research on her before I talk to her again,” Peter said.

“Research on her? Where?”

“On the Internet. You can find the latest gossip on anyone. Your name is mentioned on a couple of websites.

“Is there anything about you on the Net?”

“Yes. They say I’m into drugs, sex, rock and roll, that sort of thing, which was true in my previous life. Now I’m born again,” Peter said.
“I am sorry I did not tell you.”

“I forgive you, but you need to have a damage control plan about the break-up between you and Sandra,” Peter said.

“Right.”

“You better because I defended you,” Peter said.

“I better go. I have the audition tomorrow. I will see Gigi there.”

“You need to do some research on her. By the way, I see you didn’t learn the New York accent,” Peter observed.

“Nope. I hope to get the part anyway,” Carey said.

“You need to pray first.”

Carey walked out of the restaurant with some calmness in his mind. He told his best friend his secret. Now Arthur, Sandra, and Peter knew of his damaging secret that could cause him to have problems in his personal life and in the spotlight. He had to call Arthur. “Hello, Arthur?”

“Hello, Carey. Why are you in a cheerful mood?” Arthur asked.

“I met a girl. A black girl,” Carey said with a smile.

“Who is she? An actress or musician? Do I know her?”

“Nope. She is a nobody, but I fancy her,” Carey said.

“You have to think about your career. Are you sure about this?” Arthur asked.

“Yes. I know it is strange that I actually fancy a girl. A girl who is new to the acting world and is rude, but there is something she is not showing. She intrigues me,” Carey explained.

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked.

“She is auditioning for the same movie I am auditioning for, but she does not want me to know her agent’s name.”

“What is her name?”

“Gigi.”

“Carey, what is her last name?” Arthur asked.

“I don’t know what her last name is.”

“Carey, this is your career we’re talking about. You need to know her full name. You can’t trust just anyone.”

“I am sorry.”

“Carey, you have to be careful. Do you think she’s a reporter? Arthur asked.

“I do not think so. Peter asked me the same question. He told me to do research on her.”

“He’s right. She can damage your career, you know.”

“By the way, Peter knows about me. I told him.”

“Can you trust him?”

“He’s my best friend,” Carey said.

“If you trust him, I’m fine with your decision.”

“Right. Cheers.”

“Bye.”

Carey strolled to his hotel with a lack of energy. When he got into his room, he took everything off and threw his clothes on the floor. He walked into the bathroom and looked at his nude body in the mirror.
He saw a hair growing out of his chest. He got his tweezers and plucked the hair out. He looked in the mirror, ashamed of his face. “I need this part.”

The man in the mirror looked at him and Carey quickly turned his face away. He took a shower and went to bed.

The next morning Carey woke up and looked through his clothes to see what he would wear for the audition. Although he was a big star, he knew he had to dress perfectly.

“Shall I wear my knickers? I need this part and I cannot speak with a New York accent. I may have to do it. I hate to repeat my bloody mistakes,” Carey said to himself.

Carey put on his pants without underwear, got a condom from his drawer, and put on his tight-fitted white T-shirt. He grabbed the script and walked out of the hotel room.

Carey walked into the studio like a megastar knowing the casting agent was going to pick him for the lead.

“Where are they auditioning for New York Minute?” Carey asked a young girl.

“Over there,” she pointed. “The casting director wants everyone auditioning to enter the auditioning room. Just find an empty seat. I know they’re going to pick you. I think they just want to go through the formalities. Those nobody’s in there don’t have a chance next to you.”

“Thanks.”

Carey walked over to the room and opened the door. There were people sitting in the room. On one side, there were black thin women with black hair, and on the other side there were white men with black hair and fitted tees. Carey sat with the men.

“Are you Carey Roland?” a man sitting next to him asked.

“Right.”

“Why are you here? You’re probably going to get the part, so I should leave now for my other audition,” the guy said, getting depressed.

“I do not know if I am going to get the part. I have to audition like anyone else. Some directors do not care if you are big or not. Break a leg.”

“Wow, you’re nice. I hope one day we can work together,” the man said.

“That will be exciting,” Carey said with a lack of excitement. He was nervous because now other people knew that he was auditioning for the lead. If he didn’t get the part, his career would be damaged.
Carey looked around the plain white room with green cloth chairs. In the room, there was a section for the men and another section for the women. To him, this wasn’t a normal audition. Usually, a person waits outside the auditing room and when their name is called then they enter the room. He felt uneasy, but he needed the part. He saw a long table with four chairs behind it. Three people – two men and one woman - walked into the room with papers, folders, and pads in their hands, and sat down. Carey knew of the man, John Butler, a director. He had short black hair and a loose gray T-shirt with blue jeans. The other man was wearing glasses and a light sweater with jeans. The man looked young with his blonde hair, blue eyes, and California smile. Carey looked at him and remembered he had a condom. The woman looked like she came out of a mother-type fashion magazine. Her blonde hair was pinned up in a bun.
The three people talked amongst themselves and the woman looked irritated and rolled her eyes more than once. Carey continued to look for Gigi in the women’s section, but she still wasn’t there. He sat causally in his chair, feeling the need to act like he wasn’t nervous.
Five minutes later, the door to the room opened and a black girl walked in. Carey looked up at attention and smiled. The black girl had on a blue, tight-fitted, long shirt with faded black jeans and sandals. Carey stared at her to try to get her attention, but she walked over to the people sitting at the table. She bent over to them and looked like she was apologizing to them. Carey looked at the drama in front of him and didn’t understand what was unfolding before his eyes.

Finally directing her attention to the people auditioning, the girl said, “Hello, everyone. How are you today? My name is Gigi Machen. I am the screenwriter of the movie and the author of the book called, New York Minute. The story takes place in present day New York City. It is about a man who is an accountant and a womanizer. He meets a black woman and falls in love with her. After they make love, she leaves him and he doesn’t know why. I am just going to leave the story at that point.”

Carey’s jaw dropped to the ground. He stared at Gigi not comprehending it was really her. He sat back in his chair fully attentive and thought about the situation in front of him. He knew there was something about her and now the mystery was revealed.

“Okay,” Gigi continued and rubbed her hands together. “I don’t have a lot of time and I don’t want to waste your time, so here are the ground rules.”

Gigi walked in front of the girls’ section. “I understand that you want to be in a movie and you can’t believe someone wrote a script with a dark-skinned African-American woman. Well, with that said…”
Gigi rolled up both of her sleeves to show her caramel red tan skin color. Gigi pointed to her right arm and said, “If you are lighter or my color, please leave now. You’re not going to get the part. I need a woman who is darker than I am. I want a girl who is actually black, not light-skinned, not red tone light-skinned, or hi-yellow. I need a black woman. Please leave now if you don’t fit this criteria.”
Some of the women were in tears and the others stomped out of the room. There was one woman who was light-skinned and she continued to sit in her seat. Gigi walked over to her.

“Hello? Are you deaf?” Gigi asked with her infamous wicked tongue.

“No, but I believe the part is made for me, see, I have blue eyes and I am African-American. Plus, my boyfriend is white. I have a connection with the character. She is me and I am her. We are one of the same. When you were writing the novel, you were thinking of me.”

Gigi smiled at the girl, sat next to her, and looked into her eyes. “So, what did you think

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