Sugar Valley (Hollywood's Darkest Secret) (57 page)

Tears also formed in his mother’s eyes,
hearing that voice from a distance, she knew it was her boy,
calling her after all this time. She paused, shocked and happy to
her Darell’s tone, and then spoke, “My God, Darell, where are you?
Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m alright. I’m just calling to see
how you’re doing.” Tears released from his eyes and fell upon the
numbers on the phone, adding, “Hey Mom, did you hear about the
movie I’m in?”

“Yeah, there’s a whole bunch of those street
signs with your photo on them, they’re all over the main highway
over here. Now, where are you?” she questioned, seeing his father
slowly walking up to her, knowing she was talking to their runaway
son.

“I’m in California, but in February I’m going
to England with--”

Suddenly, before Darell could finish once
more, his father came on the line, interrupting him from finishing
a sentence that consisted of Damen’s name. Once again, Julienne
showed relief in her tired eyes.

His father yelled, “I don’t want you to ever
call here again, you got that?” Darell could hear his mother crying
out loud in the background, begging him to be nice to Darell,
wanting him to treat Darell like their son.

“I was talking to Mom.”

A strained look came upon Damen’s face,
looking at the tears as they fell out of Darell’s eyes. He looked
at them with sadness in his mind; he knew Darell missed home, he
knew Darell wanted to be there.

“I don’t care, you already gave this family
enough trouble and worries. You practically destroyed your mother
and your sister. We are just beginning to get back to normal, so
don’t call her again,” his father howled out; the tears began to
fall faster from Darell’s eyes. His father slammed down the phone,
cutting Darell off for the last time, and a feeling of unbelievable
guilt ran through Darell’s thoughts.

Darell looked at Damen. He became embarrassed
by his tears and embarrassed of his wrongdoings toward his family.
That’s when he started to talk into the phone as if he was talking
to his father again. Darell didn’t want Damen to think his own
father doesn’t want anything to do with him, so he looked up at
Damen and said into the phone, “Um, alright, Dad, I forgive you.
No, everything’s fine here. I told you I forgave you already, and
tell Mom I forgive her too. Listened, Dad, I got to go now, I’ll
call you soon.”

Damen heard a silent voice of the operator
and a silent dial tone after the operator finished her talk. He
realized that Darell wasn’t talking to his parents; at least, he
hadn’t been talking to them for that last minute. Darell looked at
Damen again, hanging up the phone, Darell spoke, “There, now
everything’s alright.”

Damen didn’t want to mention that he knew
Darell was lying, so he smiled and asked, “So, do you feel better
now?”

Julienne slowly lifted herself from off the
floor, rising up and standing behind them.

“Yeah, now it’s your turn to call,” Darell
responded.

Julienne began to walk slowly toward their
backs, silent as ever, she wanted her presence secretive as long as
possible. She just waited, listening to their conversation, and
waiting for Darell to start mentioning the movie again, so she
could jump in and prevent that conversation.

“Why, I have plenty of time to call. I’ll
call after I see that agent on Sunday. That way I’ll have something
to talk about with them,” Damen spoke with Darell pushing the phone
in his face.

Julienne got ready to interrupt Darell,
listening to him say, “No, Damen, because after you see that agent,
you’re going to have to practice the script.”

“That’s if I do get a script.”

“You’re most definitely gonna get a script.
Damen, didn’t Mr...”

Julienne interrupted Darell, jumping in and
saying with loudness. “You better get a move on, you don’t want to
miss your plane.”

Darell looked at the time on his wristwatch.
“My God, you’re right, I only got a half an hour till it leaves,”
Darell shouted, getting up from the couch, and grabbing his
bags.

Julienne was so full of anxiety that she
didn’t want to take a chance at him squealing about the movie to
Damen anymore; she’d had it. So Julienne started to push Darell
toward the door, saying, “You better go now. If you wait for us,
you will definitely miss it.”

“Alright guys, I’ll see you in seven to eight
months. Damen, I’ll see you in--”

Julienne cut off Darell’s voice again,
opening the door, and pushing him out of the apartment. She said,
“Listen, you have to go now, you’ll miss the plane if you
don’t.”

“Alright, bye guys.” Darell walked down the
hallway of the building and his “goodbye” echoed toward the door of
their apartment.

Damen then noticed Darell’s letter in between
the couch cushions. “Oh no,” Damen said as he noticed Darell’s
letter. “Oh, no,” he yelped, picking up the letter. He opened the
door, even before Julienne could say something to stop him, and ran
after Darell down the hallway, saying, “You forgot something.” He
handed Darell the letter right before he was ready to exit the
apartment complex.

Darell exited the apartment complex, and
signaled for a taxi with his right hand, while questioning, “What’s
this?”

“I don’t know, it came in the mail
yesterday,” Damen replied, noticing that a cab was approaching
them.

Julienne just waited in panic, hoping that he
wasn’t going to mention the movie to him; she crossed her fingers
and hoped for the best.

In the meantime, Darell entered the cab, and
put the letter into his pocket. “Thanks, Damen. I’ll see you in a
little bit.”

The cab drove off and Damen stood there with
a confused look on his face. Seeing the taxi from a distance, and
feeling the dirt and dust that it picked up, Mr. Schultz stared at
it closely and said to himself, “What do you mean a little bit?
I’ll see you in eight months.” He walked back into the building and
entered his apartment; he still was dumbfounded at what Darell’s
last words were. Sitting down on the couch and seeing Jose waking
up with a yawn, Damen looked at Julienne and asked, “Now what?”

Julienne smiled at him, and then grabbed
Jose, pulling him up to his feet. “Well, me and Jose have to go
now.”

Jose was confused about his whereabouts, just
waking up and all of sudden being pulled toward the apartment door,
Jose didn’t know what went on, or what was going on, for that
matter.

“Why do you have to go so soon?” questioned
Damen,

“What’s happening?” Jose asked; Julienne
began guiding him toward the door instead of pushing him.

She replied, “Nothing, honey, we’re just
leaving now. You don’t want to be late for that appointment.”

“Appointment for what?” asked Damen.

“Yeah, appointment for what?” Jose also
asked.

She opened the door and pushed Jose out while
responding, “Um, he has an appointment with, um, my hair stylist,
we really must be going. So, goodbye.” She closed the door in
Damen’s confused face and began running down the hallway, her
motion showing that she wanted to get out of there as soon as
possible.

“Why are we rushing?” Jose asked. They
reached the exit of the building. “I didn’t even say goodbye to
Darell.”

“You idiot, Darell already left. Besides,
you’re gonna see him in February.”

“Did he mention anything about the movie to
Damen?” he questioned as Julienne combed the streets with her eyes
in search for her limo.

They didn’t see it anywhere. Julienne and
Jose walked faster and faster, amazed at how close they came to
blowing their secret and all her lies. “No, he didn’t get a chance,
thanks to his parents and me. The timing was impeccable. I amaze
myself sometimes. Now help me find my limo, I want to leave this
slum.”

“What do you mean a little help from his
parents? His parents were here?”

Julienne still tried desperately to spot her
limo, saying with aggravation, “I’ll explain everything in the
limo.”

“There it is,” he spoke. “You mean to tell me
your chauffeur slept here all night?”

They walked toward the limo and stood
motionless by it and waited. “Yeah. I do pay for my safety, I
always need to be able to get away.” Julienne was angry that she
had to comb the streets, looking for her paid help. “Yeah, we were
real safe walking the streets.”

Jose looked at her, and wondered why they
were waiting instead of entering the limo. So, he turned to her,
saw a sigh come from her mouth, and questioned, “What are we
waiting for?”

“He has to open the door for me, I never open
my own door,” Julienne replied, walking over to the driver’s window
and pounding on it. The chauffeur woke up and rushed to put his hat
on.

“I’m sorry, Miss Wells,” the chauffeur said,
exiting the limo and rushing to open Julienne’s door.

“It’s alright, just make sure it never
happens again,” she spoke, stepping into her limo. The chauffeur
slammed the door and began walking to the driver’s door. Jose
opened the door again and stepped into the limo also. That’s when
Julienne shouted, “No, get out and have him open the door for
you.”

“What? It’s alright, next time I will,” said
Jose as the chauffeur exited the limo again after he overheard what
Julienne said to him.

“No, sir, could you please step out of the
limo?” the chauffeur asked.

Jose looked at him in a confused manner.
“Alright, fine.” Jose got out of the limo and watched as the
chauffeur closed and opened the door again.

Jose stepped in the limo again, and sat back
in the black, soft velvet seats. “Now, let’s go. Take us back to my
home,” she ordered after the chauffeur entered the limo and turned
on the engine. “Jose, could you promise me that you will never take
me here again?”

“I promise you.” Jose was baffled at her,
thinking about why she had such a fit about the chauffeur opening
and closing the door. That’s when he comprehended she was a tyrant.
That’s what turned him on the most about her at that moment. That’s
when the button on his soul stayed sealed and compressed against
it, and the trance became something much greater than what it was.
It made him change into a whole other being. The confusion went
away, and he said to Julienne in a whisper, “I love the way you
control.”

The limo drove off into the distance, the
morning dew rushed against the tires and splashed off of the car.
Julienne turned to him, gave a subtle grin, and said, “Wait, you
have only seen my good side.”

Chapter Forty-Two

Pounding was hitting his head, reverberating
pain and nausea through his body, facing a mirror surrounded by
circular light bulbs, feeling the lights hitting his hangover’s
eyes like lasers, Darell waited in a seat, tired as could be. He
sat there and watched a woman put makeup on him; at the same time,
another woman fixed his hair, pulling each strand to make it look
just right, making his headache worsen with each force of the
woman’s hands. He gave a silent yawn, trying his hardest to act
professional, and show everyone in the room, that he in fact wasn’t
drunk the night before. But he was. “How long is this going to
take? I want to get back to the hotel and get some shut-eye. I
didn’t realize that I had to wake up this early.” Darell’s words
came out in a slurry form, voicing his opinion to Tom Fryer,
sitting next to him, watching Darell getting ready for a photo
shoot.

“Just be patient, Darell, they’re almost
done,” Mr. Fryer replied, watching Darell’s reflection carefully,
seeing him popping some aspirin into his mouth.

The two women pulled away from Darell,
smiling, and started to put their equipment away in a box that
resembled a tackle box for fishing. “Alright, that’s it, we’re
done.” The two women left this room, which resembled a wardrobe
area, as a man approached it, entering into it, and walking up to
Mr. O’Conner.

“Hello, my name is Peter Simpson, I’m the
photographer for Star Struck magazine. I’m going to be the one
taking your pictures today.” Peter held out his hand toward
Darell’s tired aura, and knew he was either on drugs or had a
massive hangover caused by hard alcohol.

Darell shook his hand, and in the process of
the vibrations caused by the shake, his bottle of medicine fell
from his pocket, and tumbled to the floor. “Pleased to meet you,”
Darell spoke.

Peter saw the bottle on the ground, saying,
“Oh, I’ll get it.”

Darell jumped off the chair in a baby’s
heartbeat, shouting in a semi-calmed voice, “No, it’s alright, I’ll
get it.” He snatched the bottle from the floor before Peter’s grip
could reach it, adding in nervousness, “Um, it’s for my sinuses, I
don’t like when people touch it.”

“Don’t worry, I’m the same way when it comes
to my medicine,” Peter stated. Mr. Simpson lingered out of the
room, wondering why Darell was so overprotective of his bottle; it
was as if he was hiding something in it. Before exiting the room,
he turned around, looked at Darell and Mr. Fryer, smiled and
questioned in a nice way, “Aren’t you coming?”

“Coming where?”

“I’m going to take your pictures for the
magazine cover now,” Peter responded.

“Oh, yes, of course I’m coming.” Darell got
up and walked up to Mr. Fryer, adding while staring at Tom with
seriousness to his glare, “We’ll be right there.”

“Alright, take your time.” Peter then walked
down the hallway to his office, filled with white blankets,
umbrellas, and lights behind every single one.

Darell started to feel his sinus medicine in
his pocket, listening to Tom ask, “What do you want, Darell?”

“How much are they paying me for this
magazine cover?” Darell had a smile on his face, and at the same
time he stared at Mr. Fryer’s eyes with a corrupt look.

Tom started to smile the same way as well,
looking deep into Darell’s eyes, responding, “Thirty-five thousand,
of which 25 percent is mine.”