Secrets of My Hollywood Life: There’s No Place Like Home (10 page)

“I know.” I sigh. “I told Mom to call them off. Who knows if she did? I guess I can call Laney and get an update when we’re
in the car.”

I rush out the front door. I don’t want to see my friends and my former assistant. I just keep moving, but I get hit with
a flashbulb as soon as I exit.

The paparazzi caravan starts in. “Back so soon, Kaitlin?” I forgot they were here. “Come on, take five minutes to take a picture!”
one says, getting right in my face. I try to move around him, but there is another photographer right there. “It’s the least
you can do! Come on, it’s your job! Comeon comeoncomeoncomeoncomeon!”

“KAITLINKAITLINKAITLINKAITLINKAITLIN!”

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” I bark, momentarily stunning them and myself.

“You’re rude!” one paparazzo yells back.

I spin around as I start to get surrounded by cameras. “I’ve got to get out of here,” I tell Austin. “I gave Rodney the day
off. Where is your car?”

Austin makes a face. “The garage, which I now realize is on the other side of the building.”

“Kaitlin!” Liz races out the door looking upset. “Can you hold up a minute? We should talk.” Nadine and Sky are right behind
her.

“I don’t want to talk!” I yell as flashbulbs continue to pop.

“Kaitlin,” Nadine says, side-eyeing the cameras. “Come back inside so we can talk about this in private.”

“Yeah, Kaitlin, go back inside!” one of the paparazzi taunts as he takes pictures of all of us. “We need a bigger star anyway.
You’re not going to amount to anything if you can’t at least turn and pose for a simple picture.”

“He’s kidding,” another tells me. “Stay and pose. COME ON. You owe it to us!”

“Kaitlin! KAITLIN! KAITLIN!” they sing annoyingly.

“Kaitlin, please,” Liz tries, joining the chorus.

“Go away!” I tell Liz. “You’re not my friend. None of you are!”

“Aww… poor pampered celeb has issues. Wah wah,” I hear one of them say. My blood is boiling.

“Burke, I think we should get back inside.” Austin takes my hand. “These guys aren’t going to quit.”

I don’t want to stay here, and I don’t want to go inside and talk to my friends. I’m trapped.

Then a black SUV pulls up outside. It’s a studio courtesy car. I’d recognize it anywhere. It’s here to pick up another star,
I’m sure, but I’m too upset to feel guilty for what I’m about to do. I rush over and bang on the window as the paparazzi start
to surround me. “Hey! Hey! Can you give me a lift?”

“Kaitlin! Just come back inside,” Nadine begs.

“Seriously, K, get a grip,” Sky barks. “Just take a picture with me and get these goons off your back. We can finish brunch.
That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

I whirl around. My heart is beating fast. “STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO DO!” I scream at the top of my lungs.

Sky looks as if I’ve slapped her.

I’ve finally snapped, and I know it. “I’m sick of everyone telling me what to do! What not to do! Where to go, where not to
go, who to take a picture with. Just leave me alone! GO AWAY!”

“Kates,” Nadine stammers, but I cut her off.

“YOU ALL THINK YOU KNOW WHAT’S BEST. EVERYONE KNOWS BETTER THAN ME, RIGHT?” I’m still yelling, and I don’t care that the paparazzi
are taking pictures and probably using their camera phones to record my tirade. “Well, fine. Go do what you think is best,
and I’ll do what works best for me.” I’m not even sure I’m making sense. “Everyone takes care of number one. That’s what you
did, right, Nadine? You got yourself a shiny new gig and forgot about me. So go do it. Sky? You signed on even though you
knew I would be upset. So take her. You two deserve each other!” I’m starting to cry, and the paparazzi are still shooting.

“Boo hoo! Poor Kaitlin!” one of the guys says as he zooms in for a close-up of my tears.

“Knock it off, ” Austin tells them.

“Hey, freedom of speech, dude,” one says. “You back off! ”

“Austin, forget it.” I stare them down. “They’re scum!” I know I’m egging them on, and I don’t care. “They won’t get a good
picture of me today.”

FLASH. “Who said it had to be a good shot?” one says with a laugh.

The driver rolls down the passenger side window. He’s a tall, skinny man in his forties. “Kaitlin Burke, right? Get in already.
We’ll get you away from these thugs.”

“Let’s go,” I say to Austin and drag him to the car.

“Burke, we don’t know him,” Austin starts to say.

“Kates, don’t go,” Nadine says. “Austin is right.”

“I can take care of myself! ” I feel overwhelmed by all the flashes that keep blinding me. “Stop trying to rule my life!”

Do I control my life or does my life control me?

My life controls me.

That’s the million-dollar answer to the essay question, isn’t it? At least it’s my answer and you know what…it stinks. It
really stinks!

“I have no control over my life. Everyone has something to say about what I do. Everyone! My mother dictates my every breath
like I’m a form of Ashtanga yoga. Laney wants me to be the cover line in every magazine, and the first story on every TV gossip
show. All for good things, of course. Liz is on my case about, well, everything. Nadine wants me to apply to college even
though I don’t have time to take a bathroom break, let alone Psychology 101. Dad wants a piece of every project I make. Matty
always wants to know what’s in it for him, too. Lauren and Ava want to ruin my career. Alexis Holden
almost
ruined my career. Sky gives me too much garbage to even list.”

“You go, girl!” one of the paparazzi says with a laugh.

“Kates, stop,” Nadine says through gritted teeth.

But I can’t. “Austin is the only one who cares about me for me. EVERYONE has something to say about my life, from the color
of my manicure to the shampoo I use to wash my hair. Every part of my life is micromanaged and carefully crafted and I get
no say in anything! I’m sick of it!”

“Burke?” Austin tries to get my attention again.

“Now that I really think about it, I hate how controlled my life is. I’m only eighteen! What is my life going to be like when
I’m twenty-five? Or thirty? Is my mom still going to be deciding my choice for Emmy red carpet shoes at Fred Segal? Will she
make me skip dinner with friends to go to a taping of
The Tonight Show
? How did this become my life?” I feel myself start to hyperventilate.

“Kates?” I think I hear Liz say.

“She’s having a breakdown!” one of the photographers comments. “LOVE IT!”

FLASH! FLASH! FLASH!

“I hate you guys! Drop dead!” I scream at the paparazzi. I’ve never even said anything remotely close to that to one of them
in my life. I’m usually so accommodating.

One mutters something I can’t repeat under his breath, and I completely lose it. I say the same thing back!

“Kates!” Nadine freaks.

“Get in, Austin!” I bark and he jumps in the car. “DRIVE,” I tell the guy behind the wheel.

“Wow, those guys are like animals,” the driver says, shaking his head. “Scum.” He peels away from the curb, and I fall into
Austin.

“You okay?” he says as he puts on his seat belt. I do the same.

“No,” I say quietly and start to cry. “I can see my future stretched out ahead of me and I don’t like it.” I look at Austin.
“Press commitment after press commitment, project after project pops up that I know will be squeezed in till I don’t have
room to sleep. There will be no time for me, for you, for my friends.…Why did I decide to be an actress again?”

“Kates, you’re upset right now, but you love what you do,” Austin reminds me. He’s holding on to the seat and suddenly I realize
how fast we’re going.

“Can you slow down?” I ask the driver.

“Can’t! Look out the back!” the driver tells me. “The scum are trailing us. Don’t worry, I’ll lose them.”

I don’t even care. What I care about is my life, and I feel like it’s falling apart. Austin is right. I like acting, but it
all comes back to this: I can’t stand the package that comes with it. I want two lives, and I can’t seem to find a way to
have them both.

“I do like acting, but forget Hollywood!” I tell Austin as we sway back and forth in the backseat. “My life controls me and
I hate it! If this is what happens—someone makes all the decisions and the artist loses all control—then I don’t want it.
Who wants to be followed twenty-four/seven by Larry the Liar or photographed eating French fries when I’m supposed to be a
size four to fit in my new costume?”

“Kates, you don’t mean that,” Austin says while he keeps his eyes on the driver.

“I do,” I insist. “If this is what a life in Hollywood is like, then I don’t want it.”

SCREECH!

I press my arm against the back of the seat to steady myself as the car veers right with a jerk.

“Hey, buddy, slow down!” Austin says gruffly.

“It’s them!” the driver yells. “They’re alongside of us.”

I look over and the paparazzi are pulling up to us and taking pictures from the window. God, they’ve never done that to me
before.

“See? This is why I have to get away from Hollywood. I have to get away from craziness like this!”

“I hear ya!” the driver agrees. “Don’t worry, I’ll lose them.”

He starts driving even faster and we pull away from the paparazzi, almost hitting the car in the left lane. Whoa. He starts
going even faster, and yet the paparazzi are still close behind us. Now I’m starting to get scared.

“Just slow down,” I beg the driver. “It’s okay. I take it back. Let them get a picture.”

“No way!” he says. “You’re right about this Hollywood machine. They’re not getting a single shot if I can help it!”

The driver just blew a red light! I hear tires screech as we come inches from hitting a car going in the other direction.
I grab Austin’s hand. My heart is pounding again. I want my life to change, but not like this.

“I don’t care,” I say shakily. “Just slow down. It’s not worth getting into an accident.” This guy is nuts.

“Did you hear her? Slow down!” Austin yells at him, banging on the back of his seat to get his attention.

The driver ignores us. I look at Austin again and out the window behind his head. We’re going so fast that we’re passing blocks
without even stopping at stop signs. He’s veering in and out of traffic. He’s going to get us killed. I start yelling and
Austin does too. I see him pull out his cell phone to dial 911. We’re both yelling and it feels like we’re in a tunnel.

And that’s when I see it happen, even if I’m not a trained driver myself yet. The driver goes onto the off-ramp of the freeway
instead of the on-ramp.

“LOOK OUT!” I scream.

But it’s too late.

You know how in movies when something monumental happens, things sort of slow down and the screen goes slow-mo? Usually it’s
in war films where the shrapnel flies slowly through the air like it’s confetti. That’s what a car crash feels like. It’s
as if time slows down and I’m watching the whole thing happen from the safe confines of my living room couch. I turn just
in time to see an SUV plow into the front of the car, and Austin’s body swings sideways. The car rattles and screeches and
starts to spin. My body lurches forward, then to the left, and I hear a very unsettling crunching sound. Glass begins to shatter
all around me, almost in slow motion. The shards begin to hit me like tiny pellets. I hear myself scream, but it sounds like
it’s coming from outside my body. Then the car comes to a deafening stop that is followed by an eerie silence.

I don’t really remember much after that. There was the sound of sirens, and an ambulance and
a lot
of voices. Lots of voices giving various reports that I vaguely remember.

“The boy’s right leg is messed up real bad.…He won’t leave the girl, though. Her left side is pretty bruised. Could be internal
bleeding. Both kids need surgery. Taking them to Cedars-Sinai Medical Center…”

And then some voices I do know (which sort of make me wince all the same).

“Kate-Kate! Kate-Kate! Oh God. Is my daughter going to be okay? What do you mean she needs surgery right away? She has a taping
tomorrow night, and they can’t film without her!”

“NO press! I’m in charge of press! None until I say so,” Laney demands.

“What about a tweet? Should I tweet her condition to her fans?” I hear Mom ask. “HEY! Let go of my BlackBerry! You broke it!
You’re going to pay for that!”

“No tweeting!” Seth says.

“Will both of you stay focused here?” Laney snaps. “I’m working overtime to control the media situation, and I’m not even
sure I’m getting paid since I think—if I’m not mistaken, Meg—you fired Seth and me this morning.”

Mom hesitates. “Well, I—”

“Never mind!” Laney huffs, and I vaguely hear an irritating clapping sound. “People! Yoo-hoo! Nurse folk! Everyone on this
floor needs to sign a confidentiality agreement. And get me some Purell. Stat!”

And then, whether I’m just too tired or too tired to deal, everything goes dark.