The Rich and the Famous

By just after seven o'clock the day's shooting schedule had been finished to the satisfaction of Alex and there was a mass exodus from the set although Alex, ever the perfectionist, went through the script for the following day as well as the weekly schedule. Every time he sat down in a chair with "DIRECTOR" on the back he couldn't suppress a thrill running through his body, delight that he was where he wanted to be, doing the sort of thing he'd dreamt of for so long. His parents hadn't been much supportive of Alex's ambition but he knew it was born more of a fear that he wouldn't be able to make a living in the dog-eat-dog world of Hollywood than anything else and they'd urged him, as a senior in high school contemplating his future, to have something to fall back on. So he'd applied, halfheartedly, to a couple of colleges as well as to film school and he'd spent the time waiting for acceptance walking around like there was a price on his head: he didn't want to be anything other than a director! So whenever he sat down in a canvas director's chair it reminded him of the fact that his dream had come true, that he'd really and truly made it. In this industry it was only the very best who made it.

"Alex." A man flopped down in the seat next to the director, a thick folder under his arm and a nearly empty Styrofoam coffee cup in the other.

"Hmm?" Alex didn't look up and scribbled a note in the margin as well as a reminder to check with the people in props. He knew that sometimes people- such as those in props- got their backs up and felt like he was criticizing him, telling them how to do their job. The last thing Alex ever wanted to do was get anyone offside but at the end of the day it was his name that was put to the final product and he didn't ever want to claim responsibility for something he was not proud of. In turn he hoped that the same respect would be afforded to him. Making him perhaps even more of a perfectionist than usual, if that was possible, was the fact that this television show was a huge deal: he wanted to make a hit show in a competitive market and he also knew that the network were banking on it being a big success and making millions off it, a belief which was only bolstered by the presence of the man sitting beside him.

"I hear next week you're planning on shooting in Malibu." Jonathon Linton said.

"You heard right." Alex responded, still not looking up. Next week they were due to shoot in Malibu for a wedding sequence with a twist.

"Have you enlisted the help of local law enforcement officials?" Jonathon threw the empty beverage in the general direction of a bin as Alex finally looked up. It missed by a long way.

"Yes." Alex said sharply. He wasn't adverse to criticism- especially constructive criticism- but something about Jonathon and all he stood for rubbed him up the wrong way. He sometimes wished he'd put up more of a fight when he was told by one of the senior men at the network that he'd be having someone to act as a liaison between the production team and the network itself. Although it wouldn't have made any difference.

"Is it really necessary to shoot it on a beach? Couldn't it be done on the set- special effects are marvelous these days-"

"You don't say, thank you so much for enlightening me. And yes, I am sure it needs to be shot where I am shooting it." Alex said coldly.

Jonathon popped a stick of chewing gum in his mouth. "Nicotine gum- I'm trying to give up smoking."

"I've heard it kills." Alex muttered.

"You know we're trying to keep this show as much under wraps as we can until the last possible moment and I'm wondering whether it is too smart to take all our stars out on the beach in front of everyone to film a scene." Jonathon said, locking his hands behind his neck and leaning back slightly.

"Our stars?" Alex raised an eyebrow.

"Since I've been assigned to oversee this show I think our is accurate. If you insist on going out to Malibu to do this thing-"

"I do." Alex looked back down at his script and notes.

"Then make sure there is good security, keep all cameras as far back as possible, use umbrellas to cover stars at every moment they're not filming, pull out all stops." Jonathon ordered.

Alex bit back a sharp reply- how he wished he could tell this man to mind his own business and leave the business of directing to someone who knew what he was actually doing, but for the moment at least, that would only make things worse and Jonathon was a necessary evil. As much as Alex didn't like butting in and pointing out things he considered did not fit his vision he also didn't like for people who weren't filmmakers to try and tell him what he should, or shouldn't, do.

"Good man, I knew we could see eye to eye and work together on this." Jonathon said, a trace of the English public schoolboy in his voice. He stood up and for a moment it seemed like he was almost going to clap Alex on the back but his hand hovered in the air for a few seconds before he put it firmly back in his trouser pocket.

Alex continued going through his script.

Jonathon started to walk across the floor but then he hesitated. "One last thing Alex, just so you know, there are some at the network who are worried that you won't be able to do television, let alone serialized television, as well as you could do movies. Add in the fact that we've missed out on some damn good shows like "Lost" and "House" and we really, really need this to be a success."

"And you think I don't want that?" Alex was astounded: were these execs even human?

Jonathon Linton didn't respond, he continued walking and a moment later Alex heard a door somewhere shut with a bang. He put the script aside, not unviolently, and swore. His concentration had been ruined by his very brief conversation.

*****

When Alex pulled into his driveway a little while later he was still feeling annoyed. Who did Jonathon think he was to even suggest that he had some kind of important role to play in the television production? It burned him up. He parked his BMW Roadster- the car his wife persisted in calling his mid life crisis car- and felt the vibrations from way too loud music run through him. His stepchildren persisted in listening to what Alex only saw as rubbishy noise, whatever had happened to true rock geniuses like the Rolling Stones or Pink Floyd? It was lucky that in this neighbourhood people weren't living on top of one another or else he'd have complaint after complaint made about the loud 'music', the rowdy teenagers, the underage drinking and god only knew what else the apples of his wife's eye got up to?

He slowly got out of the car. Once going home from a stressful day had been a good thing; he'd feel the tension leave his shoulders and neck and his body begin to relax almost the moment he walked through the front door. Then he'd get changed into more comfortable clothes, pop a beer and sprawl out on the couch with the sports channels on constant rotation. Now he didn't get that some sense of unwinding when he got home, even if it was to an empty and strangely quiet home. Contrary to what he'd let Sabrina think at their lunch meeting not too long ago his home life wasn't exactly deliriously happy. He'd always loved the world of acting but he didn't think he'd ever had a time when he didn't want to leave the set for his home. Until the last few years that was.

He'd made it almost as far as the lounge room when his wife rushed him, throwing herself bodily into him and hugging him so tightly he could barely breathe. "Alex, I've had the best news ever!"

Alex untangled her arms from around his neck. "Your children have decided to move to England to live with their father."

Julia pouted. Someone must have told her at one time that her pout was endearing and that acting like a spoilt brat would make men give her whatever she wanted because now it was a frequent expression. Alex was always tempted to remind her of the mom's story about her face possibly getting stuck if the wind changed. "Not funny Alex, those kids adore you." Alex didn't bother to correct her and she didn't seem to notice as she continued on. "No, Donatella Versace wants to dress me personally!"

"For what?" Alex asked. Julia had followed him into the kitchen and he flipped through the mail while he waited.

"The awards season. I just know your show is going to be a big hit and since I'm Mrs. Alex Hammond I'll be in the limelight as much as you will." Julia said excitedly.

"Isn't it a bit early to be thinking about that?" Alex said as he opened a credit card bill. He didn't bother reading the item descriptions and prices individually and just skipped to the end of the bill where the total was listed. He had to blink and check the number twice to be sure he hadn't read it wrong. "Damn it Julia what have you been buying?"

"Nothing major, just clothes and stuff for the kids...but don't change the subject Alex. I'll have to fly to meet Donatella in Europe in the next few weeks and I thought, while I'm so close to France it would be nice to perhaps spend a few days relaxing on the Cote d' Azur. I'll make a booking at the Hotel du Cap. I could do with a break." Julia told him.

Alex was incredulous. "A break from doing what exactly? Shopping? Well my wallet would thank you for that Julia but," he waved the credit card bill around "I'd be paying for your hard earned vacation at one of the most expensive areas possible!"

Another patented Julia pout. "Darling don't be like that."

"Julia you can't just keep shopping like this. I'm not made of money." Alex told her.

Julia snorted. "Right. Your dead broke." She mocked.

Alex didn't actually know how much he was worth or how much he had in the bank or even where all his money was even kept. He had no problem with spending money on luxurious items, after all what was the point of being tight-fisted with money and just letting the dollars mount up until you died and someone else inherited your estate, but he thought Julia went to extremes with his money. In the time he'd known her he didn't even remember her ever saying "Honey how about I get this one?" or even "Do you want me to help pay for that?" What annoyed him the most, however, was the liberal way in which she handed out money to her two children, his stepchildren. They only had to hold out a hand and she'd be filling it with cash. Both had their own gold credit cards, the bills for which came straight to Alex.

"I'm off to play tennis at Greta's place but just so you know Hannah's school fees are due this week." Julia told him, the fact that he'd just gotten annoyed at the extent of her spending going over her head. It was another one of her supposedly endearing qualities that she was very happy to sit back and let her man spoil her rotten.

Alex nodded although he did think he'd only just paid the same fees a few weeks ago. No doubt that contribution was one of their many "voluntary" fees. And she was meant to be going to Europe over the summer with her school but Alex didn't even want to guess at how much that would cost him. Funny that the children's real dad paid through the nose in alimony but Alex had no idea where that went other than being pretty certain it wasn't to Hannah or Jaime.

Julia held her face out for a kiss and Alex aimed a kiss at her cheek but she turned her head so that it landed on the corner of her mouth instead. "I'll be home before you go to sleep." She said. Her meaning was clear: she didn't want him falling asleep and ducking out on his marital duties.

"Okay." Alex said.

After his wife left for her tennis game where more martinis or cosmopolitan's would be drunk than tennis balls hit, Alex headed for his bedroom to have a long hot shower before doing some more work on the script. He still wasn't completely happy with the interaction between mother and daughter in tomorrow's script. He was almost in his room when the loud music was abruptly turned off and he sent a thank you heavenward but one noise was simply swapped for another.

"I'm telling Mom about you Hannah. God she's going to be so disgusted to know her daughter is such a slut." Jaime was yelling.

"You're such a tattletale! And I'm so not a slut." Hannah argued.

"You so are." Jaime mocked his sister's tone. "Man you make Paris Hilton look like a fucking nun."

"At least I'm not the one who might be held back next year. Does Mom even know that you're failing so badly they had to invent a whole new range of grades- the Z grade for total retards?" Hannah questioned.

"She knows already loser." Jaime said and Alex could imagine him rolling his eyes as he did for pretty much every sentence uttered by his sister, mother and stepfather.

"If you tell Mom I'm going to tell her about you being suspended last week. And maybe she'd like to know about you shooting up in the lounge room the other day." Hannah suggested.

"Whatever. Like she doesn't know." Jaime told her.

"As if she'd know, if she did she'd totally kick your ass." Hannah disagreed.

Alex shut the bedroom door and leant against it, then stripped off his clothes and headed for the bathroom. He couldn't help but notice that the two teenagers hadn't suggested telling him instead of just their mom, probably because they knew how much they could get away with when it came to Julia and that he'd not be so lenient. Alex had always wanted to have children of his own and he truly believed he would be a good father but, not long into their marriage, Julia had changed her mind about having any more children and booked herself in for a hysterectomy, refusing to even talk about the decision with her new husband. Alex had realized then that Julia had never had any intention of having more children and he was bitterly disappointed. So he had determined to be a good stepfather to Hannah and Jaime; he knew many children would resent a stepparent trying to replace a real parent so he'd attempted to be a mixture of a friend, a role model and, to an extent, a father so that both children would be happy and well adjusted. It had been a completely useless endeavor. If Alex tried to put his foot down and make house rules- such as there would be no underage alcohol drinking in his house or that if either of the kids wanted to have more than a few guests over at the one time they'd obtain permission- he was simply wasting his breath and the teenagers did what they wanted. When Alex wanted to make important decisions- such as if they were failing school they wouldn't be given money to go out until their grades improved- it had made no difference as their mother had funded them. After a few occasions when Julia had overruled him, often in front of her children, he'd decided not to bother- they were her children so she could deal with them.

Alex got into the shower in the master bedroom's bathroom, and when the hot water hit his shoulders and back he felt himself, finally, begin to relax. The conversation from his stepchildren was no longer audible and he sighed heavily. Various teachers, headmasters, school counselors, sporting coaches, Girl Guide leaders and the like had told Julia about her kids being nothing like the little angels she imagined them to be. She chose to stick her head in the sand and believe her darling Hannah and handsome Jaime wouldn't ever do anything so shocking. Alex, on the other hand, had no such delusions: the children were spoilt rotten and smoked, drank, took drugs, stole and slept around to their heart's content. It was kind of ironic that they lived the stereotypical rock and roll lifestyle of their father. Jaime and Hannah had spent the first twelve and ten years respectively living in London with their mother and father, where they'd been spoilt rotten and for five or six years had been on the road touring with their father, Bevan, who was the lead singer of a very popular band. Julia had only been seventeen when she first met Bevan and fell in love with him and when she fell pregnant at twenty he'd proposed. A couple of months after the birth of their son Jaime they'd had a hugely lavish wedding. Her parents had been horrified about their baby girl taking up with Bevan who didn't have the best reputation but Julia was stubborn and she liked the idea of being the partner of a rock star. Prior to meeting Julia Bevan rivaled Gene Simmons from "Kiss" for shagging as many girls as humanely possible but after a couple of years of marriage- and a second child to join the first- Bevan went back to his old habits. Julia had put up with it for awhile before deciding enough was enough and taking her two kids back to her homeland of America where, two and a half years later, she and Alex had married. It was just unfortunate that, at least according to Alex, they hadn't lived happily ever after. In fact he had an appointment the next week with his lawyer to talk about his options for divorcing Julia.

Alex lathered his hair with shampoo and waited a minute or so before rinsing it off and then rubbing a hand over his face. Through his closed eyes he saw Julia's furious face when he got around to telling her that he wanted out of the relationship. Then Julia's suntanned face with hazel eyes and masses of blonde hair surrounding her face like a halo morphed into a different face, one with a peaches and cream complexion, bright green eyes and long silky straight brunette hair and a dazzling smile. Her name was Amanda and while she wasn't the first girl he'd fallen in love with she was the first he'd had sex with but unfortunately it was only a one night stand; despite Alex professing his undying love for her at the time she had been kind but firm in explaining that things would go no further and that they had to keep a professional working relationship between the two of them. Even now, nearly thirty years later, he felt himself harden in the shower as he remembered that one magical night:

Alex, as the assistant to the director, had been working very hard. It was true that all the crew worked hard but not many were subject to the late night phone calls for crazy requests or just to bounce ideas or observations off that Alex was. If it hadn't of been such an amazing opportunity Alex would have been tempted to tell the man where to shove it but as it was he knew that scoring such a job in his first summer holidays of film school was incredibly lucky. Amanda was one of the three lead women, all of whom were playing sixteen year old girls despite being in their early twenties. It was the kind of slasher flick where the women wore as little as possible so Amanda spent much of her time in bikinis or short shorts and tight tank tops and Alex, like almost all men around the place, couldn't help but notice her. He never dreamt that she'd notice him back though.

"...and tell that stupid bitch that I asked for a blonde last time and I got a damn red head. And no fake blonde's either okay? All I have to do is look down at their pussies to see what their natural colour is." Matt, the director, was telling Alex on the Friday night three weeks into the film shoot.

"Yes Matt." Alex parroted. He, like any other member of the crew, knew the best approach was to agree with Matt and humour him at all costs!

"Right...well what are you still doing here?" Matt demanded about a minute later, looking, for all intents and purposes, as though he didn't even know who Alex was.

"Um..." Alex mumbled.

"Well go on, get outta' here. The weekend is upon us." Matt said as he walked off.

Alex started to walk away but he was intercepted by Amanda who asked him whether he wanted to come over for a drink later that night. Before he could say that he would love to she added that she was missing New York and she was sure he was missing Texas too and he'd be doing her a favour keeping her company on a Friday night where back home she would have been hitting the hottest club with her friends. Of course Alex said yes!