Late 2014
There was still time to make a clean break. She seemed to have called me from the road, so she wasn't that close by, right?
I supposed it had to come crashing down like this somehow. After I sold my first screenplay, and had none other than Jennifer Lawrence attached to film it after the last two Hunger Games, I was due for a downfall. It would be a unique downfall, but my own fault, nonetheless.
Maybe if I left the apartment now, I could come back in a few days to get my stuff and sneak out of Hollywood. But that went out the window once I heard the knocking on the door.
She didn't seem like the 'commit a secret Hollywood murder' type. But under these circumstances.....I took a last look at my non scratched up face and opened the door.
When Jennifer called me on the phone, she ended it with one word that chilled me to the bone. It was the same word she used to start this next conversation. "Bob 6929," she repeated.
I merely stepped back and let one of the most powerful young actresses in Hollywood in, so she could crush my career in private. She wore a modest white shirt and tight blue jeans – and noticing stuff like that is what got me into this mess.
Since she knew, I supposed I should at least try to defend myself before the slapping started. "I wrote that story two years ago. I know I should have deleted it, but it got a lot of hits!" I very lamely defended.
"I noticed," Jennifer said way too calmly. "I noticed a ton of things."
"Right, how couldn't you?" I lamely laughed off. "I'm far from the only person to write a smut story about you. The difference is, I'm probably the only one with my foot in Hollywood's door. Or I was." Getting right to it, I confessed, "Just don't tell them why you quit or had me fired. Not until I get a 24-hour head start outta here. Please?"
I waited for the rejection and rants about me being a pervert. Leaving aside how I didn't even write the screenplay before I wrote about her having sex. Or how writing celebrity smut actually fine-tuned my writing for legitimate screenplays – and got someone like Jennifer to star in this one. But I was in no place to point out this irony now.
"You want to know how I found out first?" Jennifer asked instead of slapped. "Some stuff in the story got me suspicious. But it wasn't until I e-mailed you that I put it together."
"E-mailing.....what the fuck, you're Tiff90?!" I gasped out, not caring much for décor. We were pretty beyond that now, given the subject matter.
"I know it's not the most brilliant fake name for me. I've had better, trust me. But at least I came up with a lame Internet cover. You used your regular e-mail address to write me back," Jennifer pointed out.
"How was I supposed....did you know before that?" I sputtered.
"Of course not. But when I compared the writing styles, it wasn't a big shock," Jennifer admitted.
"You....you left a message on my profile page and said you loved it. When I wrote back and shared what....inspired me, you wrote back. We wrote back to each other twice after that," I recounted. "If you didn't know it was me until later....why even write anything at all?"
"I'd already come that far by reading it. How much worse could talking to the writer be?" Jennifer figured. "If I got too grossed out, I figured I'd have fun embarrassing you later. I didn't really figure I'd have to with you, though. I mean, your stuff....I sure read worse."
"Yeah, I get that. Not in every case, of course," I qualified. "Then when you figured out it was me...."
"That was before our last exchange," Jennifer added. "After that, I figured I might as well come here."
"Well, if you figured it out, I'll bet the studio did too. With their background checks, how could they not?" I groaned. "Maybe they'll hold it over me to make me write some teen werewolf movie."
"Or they really don't know. I haven't felt the need to tell them yet," Jennifer warned.
"Yet?" I sighed, figuring the boom was coming. "Okay, what'll it take to keep you from needing it? Delete the story? Add or delete scenes from the screenplay? Add or delete characters?"
"Dude, come on, I'm not that Hollywood yet," Jennifer actually joked like a regular person. Like this was regular. "If I wanted any of that, I'd have done it from the start. Why do you think I'm just bringing this up now?"
"I....I'm done guessing at this point. You'll have to fill me in," I requested. To get ready, I sat on the smaller couch in my living room as Jennifer took the large one nearby.
"Look, I'm still kind of new to the whole superstardom thing. Or not quite old at it yet," Jennifer reminded. "Heck, you wrote your story before Hunger Games and Silver Linings. How come you didn't write another one after that?"
"I was kind of busy with legitimate work by then," I stated.
"Don't say it like that," Jennifer objected. "I'm still getting used to the creepy, weird and sick parts of being a big star. So I read all those stories to....desensitize me in a way, or something! But your story wasn't creepy, weird or sick! Sure it was kinda weird for me to read, but in a....kind of hot way. That's why I left you those comments."
"Oh....that's it," was all I really had to say.
"And the comments you made after that weren't....that bad either," Jennifer seemed to blush. "You could have been a lot creepier when you talked about my body, that's for sure."
"I said you were a perfect 10 in every way," I recalled. "And I didn't just say that about your body."
