Chapter 63
Girl Talk
SYDNEY
When Renaux answered the door in a skimpy, silk kimono and a white fur scarf hanging off her shoulders, I took it in stride.
Sydney Pennypocket might have laughed.
Ella Krispy would have wondered if she was in the wrong penthouse.
But Ellanor Krispois was an eccentric, genius inventor slash wannabe actress who partied with rock stars and wasn't surprised by anything anymore.
So I strutted past my agent, trying to look as fun and dignified as one can in a five dollar t-shirt bought off a rack on the sidewalk.
Renaux held a glass of wine in one hand and was texting fiercely with the other (somehow, she possessed some sort of magic that let her text without even looking at her phone.)
Her nails, still wet from polish and gleaming a dark red, click-clacked at the screen with lightning speed.
"So good to see you, darling. Come in, make yourself at home. What's mine is yours."
What was Renaux's apparently was the entire modern-art department of the Home Shopping Channel.
Her fireplace was a floor to ceiling, dark onyx triangle with a gold grate. Her sofas were a fine, white leather constructed into distinctly un-sofalike shapes. And there was artwork of her (almost all scantily clad) everywhere.
Huh. I politely studied one piece of green and yellow pop-art on the wall of Renaux re-enacting the famous Marilyn Monroe skirt scene.
"You like them? All from the glory days. Back when everyone wants to take your picture." Renaux wandered to a side bar on wheels for a refill.
"They're great. You must be very...proud."
"Yes," she squinted at me from over her glass, pursing her lips, "but you seem more the conservative type."
I meandered to her fireplace, and noticed the rug under her coffee table was a skinned bear.
If you added glasses and a vest he'd look just like one of Jerry's ex-traveller friends…
I cleared my throat and forced myself to drag my eyes away from the (familiar looking) dead throw-rug. "I'm still getting used to the spot-light."
"I want you to capitalize the spot-light, darling. Being comfortable in your own skin shows confidence. The public love confidence. You want them to love you." She set her phone down. "A debut like this movie is essential to get right. It can make or break your whole career."
"Actually, that's why I'm here. I wanted to talk about the movie. There are some scenes–"
"Drink?" She asked, already pouring me a cup.
"Oh, I don't think I should…"
She pushed the glass into my hand. "Relax. Tell me," she sat down on the not-a-sofa and I followed suit, taking the tiniest sip possible to be polite, "what was your childhood like?"
I choked on the wine. "What? Why?"
"I need to know you, Ellanor. If I'm to help you blossom from this conservative caterpillar into the beau butterfly that you truly are, I need to get inside your head. All great acting is pulled from life experience."
I hesitated, staring down at my warped reflection in the glass. "What if I don't have the...right life experience?" I asked.
"Ah." She pointed her finger in the air. "You mean the romance."
Blinking, I looked up, surprised. "Actually, yeah. How'd you know?"
Renaux threw her head back and laughed, knocking her golden hair over her shoulder. "My dear, you're oozing with child-like innocence. No wonder your breakfast date kept throwing himself at you. Men are like wolves, they can smell a virgin from a mile away."
My face reddened. I took a deep gulp this time. "It wasn't a date."
And L is not a wolf.
Although doubt nagged at the back of my mind.
He didn't seem shy at all, like I once thought. Instead, L came across as...private. Almost secretive. Like he kept that side of his life firmly outside of work.
The guy could date hundreds of women and I'd never know...he could date hundreds of MEN and I'd never know…
I felt Renaux's green eyes squinting at me.
I pretended to be fascinated with her bear rug.
(I swear the thing was judging me, as if I had personally shot and skinned it.)
She crossed her legs, dabbing her bare toes in the air, also painted red. "Be careful who you consort with. They might end up being dragged into the public eye. Rumours can be such an awful thing. Reputations are as fragile as spun sugar. A little heat and poof."
A frown overtook my face. I hadn't considered that. Every phone was a camera these days.
I didn't want to expose L.
"So." She quickly changed topics. "Which scene in particular?" She asked, all smiles again.
"Um, the one on page 76? Where the two get stuck sharing a hotel room during a rainstorm and…the one on 123 in the..."
I blushed.
"Sauna?" Her smile widened. "Yes?"
"Well, I'm not sure I can do that on camera."
Another laugh. "Ellanor, it's just acting."
"Oh, I know that. But–"
She leaned forward and placed a hand on my knee. "I told you. What you lack isn't talent. It's confidence."
I scoffed.
Out loud.
"Ridiculous." I threw back the rest of the wine. "I'm the closest thing to perfect the world has ever seen."
"But it's an act, isn't it?" She said it so flatly and factually I nearly flinched.
She tightened her grip on my knee, leaning closer, eyes wide.
"I've watched the videos. The partying. The...extremeness. You're not loud because you're loud. You're loud because you're worried they will forget you. Ignore you. That they'll notice you're shallow and small and desperate for love."
"I'm not…"
She raised her brows.
I could tell, just then, that Renaux saw right through my Krispois alias.
Maybe from the start.
"What is this?" I stood up suddenly. "You offered to be my agent. My acting coach. I don't need or want a psychiatrist."
"You need true confidence. Like this morning. You could have had that man wrapped around your finger." She almost snarled the words out. "Instead you ran away. Asking to be chased. You should be the wolf." She stood up, circling the sofa, dragging her fingers across the back ridge.
The idea of wrapping L around anything, especially me, sent a flurry of activity in my stomach.
"It's not the same as–" I stopped myself. I was going to say lying. "Acting." I swung around the correction.
"The character in this movie knows how to open herself up to heartache. She is unafraid of pain. She knows he may be using her but she throws herself into the fire anyways. She's a heroine." Renaux stopped to look down at me, the fireplace next to us crackled. "Are you a heroine, Ellanor?
I opened my mouth. Then closed it. I had the vague recollection a purple cat once asked me that in a dream. And I couldn't answer then either.
I shrugged helplessly.
Too much wine. I realized too late.
"I don't know. Not with love. I got...I had...I was very lucky to have someone. A long time ago. It was easy then. It just happened. But now men are so confusing. Some more than others. They're so different from each other. I haven't had time to...to...figure it out. I can sing badly on a stage and jump on top of cars but I can't tell a guy I like him. That doesn't feel heroic to me. Maybe if I had my mom to teach me about boys but..."
I stopped to breathe.
That all came pouring out of me like a drunk girl at a house party puking into a toilet.
I touched my fingers lightly to my forehead. I have got to stop embarrassing myself. Ellanor Krispois wouldn't ramble like a lunatic.
And besides...
Never, not ever had I let myself miss my mom. Not like this. I barely knew the woman. Just blurry images from my childhood.
Maybe it was the idea of a mother that I missed. Foster care didn't exactly give me good role models. I'd always had trouble making female friends. And Mikal had been my only boyfriend and he pursued me. He made it simple.
L was anything but simple.
I had no idea what I was doing. The concept of seducing someone like the script called for was completely an alien concept.
Renaux spoke up, softening. "Falling in love is not something you can fake, Ellanor, especially on camera. This movie will be a challenge. But I can help you."
She reached down and picked a piece of fluff off my shoulder. "The first thing I can tell you is that all men are not different. In fact, in one respect they are very much the same."
"...They are?"
The corners of her mouth stretched from ear to ear, and her eyes flashed. "Let me show you what men want."
Renaux led me to her walk-in closet (after refilling our wine glasses), which was basically an enormous room that could have fit my uncle's apartment inside it twice over.
She sat me down on a lounger and began looking through her clothes, calling over her shoulder which movie she wore them in and who designed them and bla bla bla.
I took the moment to frown again into my wine, wondering why I had just spilled my guts to a stranger.
I felt a lot more at ease around her than I should. Was it the wine? Did Renaux really care about me and if I nailed this role?
Or was she just...acting?
I slowly drank and watched her carefully, but I soon realized I didn't care if she was acting.
There were death gods and serial killers and dimension hopping immortals to worry about.
An overzealous agent out for an easy paycheck by befriending an aspiring actress was low on the villain list, honestly.
What else could Renaux want from me?
She was off script. She wasn't involved with the main cast or Kira.
Renaux's penthouse was probably the safest place in Death Note.
Out of habit I scouted marks (the woman has a lot of jewelry) and escape routes, but I was perfectly content to let Renaux whisk me onto an adventure of romantic acting tips.
Of which she had many, that she discussed at length, while browsing her lingerie drawers and shoe racks.
Always shave your legs. Carry mints. Picture the person you like in place of your co-star (not even going to unpack that right now). Don't over-act. It's all in the eyes.
Etc. Know your lines. Etc. Don't sleep with any of the camera crew. Etc. Have you heard of eyebrow waxing because you could really use it. Etc. Etc. Etc.
Finally, she emerged from her wardrobe with a hanger in hand.
"Put this on."
My stomach flipped.
She held a sequin dress, cut open in the leg, that sparkled red in the light.
"I…"
Water. Water was rising. The entirety of Tokyo Bay came crashing into Renaux's closet, pushing me under, and Beyond was watching me, his red eyes shimmering above the surface–
I can't.
Face white, I tightened my lips and shook my head.
She watched me steadily. "You must be brave, dear."
I inhaled.
Was I doomed to be afraid of the colour red forever? Would the ghost of Beyond haunt me until the day I died?
Well. Are you a heroine, or aren't you?
Who is Ellanor Krispois?
"Fine."
A few minutes of finagling later (I was a lot shorter than Renaux) I stepped out from behind a curtain in the dress, high heels and an updo.
Renaux was busy doing something on her phone, but when she looked up, she froze.
"Well?" I tugged on the shoulder strap. "Am I supposed to feel like a butterfly now?"
She swept to her feet and spun me around by my shoulders, pointing me to a long mirror.
"Look at yourself. Really look. What do you see?"
"A duck in a dress."
She gently shook my shoulders. "I see a woman."
I tilted my head at her, as if to say you can't be serious.
"When you go to set - and I want you to wear this dress when you do - everyone is going to stare at you. Do not fear it. You may not have money, or status, or respect - but you will have power."
She almost spat the words, and I had a feeling it came more from a personal experience in Renaux's past than just general advice.
"You are worried about embarrassing yourself. Or giving too much away. Don't be. Embrace this. Give them everything." She straightened. "Make them choke on it."
I bit my lip, tilting my head. I just didn't see what she saw. Mikal might have. L at least pretends to.
But Renaux had hit the nail on the head when she said I put on all these personas and played all these characters to create a wall.
Now, to expose myself on camera so intimately, for love - even if it was fake movie love - after losing Mikal...and soon to lose L...
"Strength is one thing we women can understand. We endure." Renaux said. "Don't give up. Go to the set. Meet your co-star. Try the scene. You may surprise yourself."
I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly and shakily. "Ok. You're right."
If I can fight off demon dogs and giant scorpions, then I can pretend to kiss a guy for some silly movie.
I smiled. For real.
"Thank you. You've been...amazing."
"I know, darling. That's why I charge such a high rate. Now go. They want us on set at midnight. Get some beauty sleep. Don't wrinkle the dress, please. It's one of a kind."
I thanked her again.
"Oh, and one more thing." She inspected her nails. "Don't have sex."
"I...excuse me?"
"Trust me. You want tension. If you hold yourself back in your personal life, that longing will shine through on camera. The shoot is only for a few months. You can handle that, right?"
"...I guess? If you think it's best. Not that I was planning to-"
"Great." She ushered me into the elevator and hit the button. "À tout à l'heure!" She waved goodbye.
Uh...
I tugged at the dress.
It wasn't until half-way the ride down, alone with my thoughts, that I heard a faint, crazed laugh.
I whipped around.
But no one was there.
No Beyond.
Stop it. It's just a dress. It's just a colour. Red is not unlucky. It's Valentines and lipstick and roses.
It isn't blood or eyes or flames or…
...or strawberries.
I swallowed, tightening my hands into fists and shutting my eyes, counting to ten as I tried to ignore the insane laughter and the feeling of Beyond's boot on my chest as he kicked me into the water.
Be brave.
Be brave. Be brave. Be brave.
Be…
The elevator dinged open.
I hurried off it, forehead sweating, the laughter chasing me as I threw myself out the doors.
I gulped down the cool air.
What am I going to do? How can I kiss a guy on camera?
Not when all I can think about is either L giving me butterflies or Beyond stabbing his hand through my chest.
Renaux is wrong. I can't do this. I can't…
My phone beeped.
I flipped it open.
'I am at your motel room.
~L'
End of Chapter 63
Shorter than I intended. But for some reason this was a PAIN to write so I feel relieved finishing at least one scene.
I've taken a slight vacay from social media. I posted my picture and...along came the creeps. Yup. Didn't expect that. I know blocking is a thing but it just felt...super discouraging.
I'll go back. Maybe. But I've logged out and haven't posted in a while. I'm rethinking if it's necessary this early in my writing career.
I love connecting with you guys and keeping in touch and posting fun gifs. But man twitter can be...yikes. So if you're trying to chat I'm sorry. I'll try to reply to pms and reviews on here instead for now.
Hope you liked the chapter. And oof. Even I felt that cliffhanger. Can't help being a little evil.
Love
~Satch
