This story is a spin off of the successful and wildly popular “Journal of an Agent” by Carnage Jackson. At the end of Carnage’s story, the main character, Dean Simonds, faces a major dilemma, where he has to choose between staying in Hollywood with Alyssa Milano, or heading back east with Natalie Portman. Please note that this might not necessarily have been the ending Carnage had in mind, but is my own interpretation.
I hope you all like this series, and all feedback is welcome at rulehater@yahoo.com. To the readers of my other series, “Dangerously in Love”, I have no intention of ending that series anytime soon. I would like to thank Carnage Jackson for not only letting me use his characters and set-up, but for his constructive suggestions and criticism.
If you are under 18, please refrain from reading this. To the rest of you, note that this story is completely fictional, and all similarities to real life people and occurrences are strictly coincidental.
JOA: DAMON’S CHRONICLES 1 – Natalie Portman
My name is Damon Brill, and this is my diary. I'm currently 28 years old, and the manager of Shooting Stars Talent Agency, arguably the largest and most influential agency in all of Hollywood.
First of all, I must admit that this feels a little bit weird for me, as this is the first time I've ever tried to keep a journal. Maybe because Mama always gave me the impression that people who did such things were wussies, or maybe it's just because I grew up in such a large household, and never had the privacy to even dream of keeping something so secret, but here I am now, writing my first ever entries in a journal. Before I go into why I am keeping this diary, I think it is essential for you, the reader, to learn a few things about me. As I have said, my name is Damon Brill, and this past year has been an incredible roller coaster ride, culminating in my succeeding my former boss, Dean Simonds, as the head of this agency.
I grew up in one of the toughest "hoods" in the country, the Marcy Projects in Brooklyn, New York. I was the third child of a single mom, and I had two other siblings after me. I was actually the only boy, and had four loving sisters. Needless to say, growing up where I did, I have witnessed virtually every atrocity known to man. Drug dealers, hustlers, murderers, these were the people I grew up around, and the life I would have been destined to, had Mama not instilled fear in me and tried to raise me as far away from all those things.
I got into my fair share of trouble as a kid, did a little bit of hustling here and there, without Mama's knowledge of course, but generally, I was able to steer clear of trouble and stay focused and determined. I managed to maintain good grades throughout high school, except maybe during my junior year when I decided I wanted to drop out and become a rapper. I played truant for all of two weeks and hung out in the streets rapping and freestyling, before Mama found out and gave me the biggest ass whooping ever.
I graduated in 1992, and was offered several football scholarships all around the country. I decided to go to the University of Southern California for some reason. I had always been fascinated by California all my life even though I had yet to visit it. As a kid, I had loved Hollywood movies and the entire scene, and I knew I belonged there. Mama not only thought it was a great idea, but decided to relocate the entire family to California as well.
College was great in so many ways. Since I was a football player, I was essentially able to live the life most only dream of, and partied, drank, and had so many girls at my disposal. I also managed to maintain incredibly high grades, which turned out to be to my benefit, because after a severe injury on the football field in my third year, I was told I could not play football again for the rest of my life. It was a hard blow to take, as I had always dreamed of following in the likes of such fellow USC alumni as O.J. Simpson and being presented the Heisman trophy, and probably ending up at my favorite team, the Raiders, but that had gone down the drain. Luckily, because I had excelled academically as well, the school decided not to withdraw my scholarship, and I was able to graduate with a 3.89 GPA.
I enrolled in the business school, and graduated in a few years with the credentials to be employed at any top firm in the country. However, I was still fixated on one of my childhood dreams: I wanted to conquer Hollywood. I knew I was no actor, and apart from my brief dreams of rap stardom in high school, I had never aspired to be in showbiz. However, I knew I belonged there, among the rich and world-famous actors and actresses, and being the determined person I was, I decided to follow my dream.
Most of my friends and family thought I was nuts when I decided I would apply at a Hollywood agency and try and claw my way up from the bottom. Needless to say, I was the pride and joy of so many people who knew me. I had overcome adversity and made something of myself, when several of the people I grew up around were either in jail or shot. My elder sisters tried to talk sense into me, as they thought I was merely suffering from fandom and adoration of the stars, but I knew it was more than that. Thankfully, Mama had my back, and encouraged me to go for what I wanted.
The first agency I interviewed for was Shooting Star, and as soon as I walked into the room and saw Dean Simonds, I felt a connection, as though we were kindred spirits. Dean was clearly impressed with what he saw, as it is not everyday that a graduate of one of the top business schools in the country applies to be the dude who fetches you bagels and coffee. He hired me on the spot, and I became the personal assistant to one of the most important men in Hollywood.
I learned a lot from Dean. He was a man after my own heart, and we were able to strike a deep friendship. We trusted each other, and he confided in me as he lost faith in what he was doing. I guess I began to see that he would want to leave it all so soon. It was actually very easy to despise Dean, a rich white boy who inherited all this from his father. But there was something sincere about him, he was neither stuck up nor vain, just another Regular Joe stuck in a fish-out-of-water situation. I watched him make the same rookie mistakes over and over again. His weakness for pussy almost cost him his life several times, but he never learned. It was actually his weakness for pussy that got me the job in the first place; his former assistant had been a basket case, and when Dean started sleeping with her and ended up dumping her, she went nuts and tried to kill him.
Less than a year after I started working at Shooting Star, Dean told me he was going to leave. I did not blame him though, he had just suffered several attempts on his life by his psycho half-brother, but I knew he needed to stay. I tried to throw him a party (and boy, was that a party) to change his mind, but that Star Wars chick had showed up, and Dean decided once and for all he was through with the Hollywood scene.
Dean had headed back east to live with Natalie Portman, and it was a really big loss for Shooting Star, as Dean had been a very effective manager. I also felt like I had lost one of the first real friends I ever had. I was never really one to have too many tight friends while growing up, and Dean was one of the first truly good people whom I could trust. On the flip side, Dean had left the agency in my charge, and believe it or not, from a poor boy from Brooklyn, I had become the head of the most powerful agency in Hollywood, directly in control of the careers of several Academy Award winning actors and directors, with many clients earning eight figure sums per movie.
Dean had given me a tiny piece of advice before he left. His father had founded this agency from scratch, and attributed his success to his meticulous use of a journal. He had recorded his experiences and exploits (of which there were countless) on paper, and Dean had followed in the tradition, keeping a journal I believe you might have been lucky enough to read. Who was I to defy tradition? So, here I am, writing in this journal, and about to begin the biggest journey of my life.
The night before Dean left, he had invited me to dinner at his home with Natalie. He really wanted me to get to know her since, to be honest, up until that night, I did not like Natalie much. She had betrayed Dean's trust in the past, which had almost led to the loss of his life, and this had hurt Dean more than anything, since I knew how much he loved her. Then she had showed up out of the blue and declared that she loved him, and to my chagrin, Dean had fallen for it, totally forgotten everything she did in the past, and was leaving everything behind all for her. Yeah, who cared that she was a straight A student from one of the best colleges in the country, as well as one of the most talented young actresses in Hollywood? Who cared that she was strikingly gorgeous, or that she was a star of one of the biggest trilogies of our generation? For all I cared, she was a lying, two-timing skank, and was about to steal my best friend away from me. Wow, I actually called Dean my best friend, well yeah, I suppose he was.
Dean knew how I felt about Natalie, and he had been trying to persuade me that I could not be any more wrong, so he dragged me to the dinner, which Natalie was supposedly preparing. I did not want to go, but I guessed I owed it to Dean. He was virtually handing me the biggest agency in Hollywood, plus I was flattered that he wanted to spend his last night in California with me, as opposed to some big red carpet function. So I accepted the invitation, and was there promptly at 9 p.m. with a bottle of champagne in my hand.
I stubbornly refused to dress formally for the dinner, I was not going to wear a suit just to eat something Natalie prepared, which, my thoughts continued to tell me, could possibly be poisoned. So I had worn a casual Phat Farm T-shirt and baggy jeans, as well as a pair of Reebok sneakers, and to further antagonize my hosts, decided to put on a doo-rag as well. I would not have looked out of place in a hip-hop video, and hopefully, Natalie would be pissed as hell.
I rang on the doorbell to Dean's mansion, and he came to open it a few moments later, looking rather smooth in a wine-colored long-sleeve designer shirt, and a pair of black slacks. I had always admired Dean's fashion sense. If he were not one of the most notorious skirt-chasers in Hollywood, several people would have thought he was gay, as he always paid so much attention to such trivial aspects of fashion. I am somebody who couldn't care less about clothes, and more often that not, end up making colossal fashion mistakes. I made a mental note to hire a fashion consultant as I shook hands with Dean, and as we did the hip-hop style half-hug, which I had taught him, he eyed me up and down
"Damon, how many times do I have to tell you that you dress formally for dinners?" he jokingly questioned
"Dude, why do I have to wear a suit just to come and eat your food?” I joked back.
As we chuckled, Natalie appeared at the doorway. She was also dressed quite casually, in a white long-sleeved top and a long floral skirt. There was something inexplicably radiant about her, and she looked so beautiful, even though she wasn't trying. I reminded myself that I was supposed to hate her, even though it was extremely hard to do so when she had that smile on her face.
"Hi Damon", she gushed, "thank you so much for coming, I'm really grateful"
"The pleasure is all mine" I said coolly as she hugged me. I hugged her back perfunctorily, and as I did so, noticed the lovely smell emanating from her. She smelt so heavenly, and for a few moments, basked in the glorious scent until I noticed I had held on too tight and for too long.
"Hey dude, leave my girl alone", Dean joked
"Oh yeah", I said absent-mindedly as I released her, inwardly cursing myself in the process. I tried to remember why I disliked her as we walked to the living room.
