AN: Yes, a new chapter, produced under several death threats, including death by scorpion? LOL
Glad you guys are enjoying the story. I'm going to be gone most this week, sad I know, so
leave me some encouraging reviews for when I get back. Excess reviews will get you a chapter
faster. Trust me. I was going to wait till next week to touch this story but was good and
wrote this for ya'll... hint hint... hehe Though only one person has reviewed my new Mummy
fic chapter... *sniffles* Guess Laby fans are more obsessive huh? Not that I'm complaining!
Disclaimer: Go read another chapter for one. *rasberry*
************************** Lights, Camera, Action! Chapter Four *************************
We didn't film any today, on my insistence. I don't care that I looked like some bitchy
Hollywood starlet. Really. Normally, I would. But normal doesn't exactly include a Goblin
King for a costar. So nah!
Mike was less than pleased. Mr. Tony Gray was secretly relieved, I think. The whole near
fist fight at our first meeting kind of unnerved him. Or maybe I just have an overactive
imagination. He could have had a dozen plausible reasons for locking himself in his office
after me and Jareth's little transaction in my dressing room.
I still like Mr. Gray.
Mike can go take a flying leap.
So here I am, curled up on my obscenely expensive leather couch, watching reruns of Buffy the
Vampire Slayer on my first Friday night back in giddy, gaudy Hollywood. Yes, I am aware of
the patheticness that is my life.
And what did Jareth do after I forcibly introduced him to a rack of costumes, glitter, and
feather boas? Let's just say that it's a good thing Mr. Gray was still locked in his office.
I didn't storm out to my loyal, waiting limousine until Jareth called me a sniveling sorry
excuse for a heroine. Okay, okay there were a few more expletives involved in the actual name
calling but I'm trying to keep this PG-13. Besides, I swear half of those things were
anatomically impossible.
Of course I've never heard of anyone with their head up their ass as far as he's managed so
who knows what strange feats are possible for a disgustingly flexible Goblin King.
Anyway, he called me a name, I threw a stapler at his head, he ducked... And so one and so
on until I found the breath to heave a powdered donut, okay not as great as a stapler but I
had already hurled everything else in the general vicinity including the camera guy's toupee,
and then march out. He looked amazingly pissed but the image was slightly ruined by the white
sugar covering his steaming face. It looked like he was an unfortunate victim of an exploding
flour factory.
I love being an actress. In a boring nine to five job antics like that would get me fired.
If I was say an Accountant, Jareth could show up as my new coworker and I would have been
forced to punch numbers with him for eight hours before I could drag him outside and throttle
him. Its much more satisfying to whop him with something on the spot, trust me. And now I've
probably fueled the gossip mills for the next several months all by my lonesome.
I'm kinda an enigma to the papers. I love who I am. My weight, height, looks... I have
great self esteem, have yet to break any major laws, say anything career breakingly stupid,
and my love life isn't that much more screwed up then any of my coworkers.
Okay, my lack of love life isn't much more screwed up. Its not that I'm not wanting to see
anyone. Its more every time I start to date a really great guy I look at him one day and
figure out he's a lying, cheating, scum loving bastard. Or I walk in on him with my roommate
or coworker or there was that one guy who I found in the bathroom with the maid who was at
least fifty years older than him.
The last one gave me nightmares for a few weeks that had more to do with pure ick factor than
any emotional scarring. Though I can never look at people over the age of sixty quite the same
way...
So anyway, the media has this thing for me. Its great for my career, which Mike loves, and I
usually don't mind the extra scrutiny. Emphasis on the usually.
I know they're all waiting for the crack in my armor, the chink, the proverbial Achilles heel.
And I always thought they would never find it. I mean seriously, when is something from the
Labyrinth going to come back to haunt me?
Because the Labyrinth is... I don't know. If I wasn't famous I would go to a psychiatrist
and figure out why something that happened so long ago still has such a hold on me. Why it
takes up such a large chunk of my memory and thoughts.
Not that I don't have a psychiatrist, all actors and actresses do. They're kind of like an
expensive sports car. Everyone has one, even if you don't drive it. I go to my sessions once
a week and me and Phil talk about the latest movies and books we've read. At the end of the
hour he makes a few notes about my 'progress' on a few 'issues' like trust and commitment,
blah, blah, etc. Occasionally he leaks some tidbits to the press. I'm happy, Phil's happy
and a hell of a lot richer, and the reporters are satisfied for a few days.
But I am famous and Phil would die if I actually tried to talk to him about something real.
Something that really bothered me. And now Jareth's back in my life.
Okay, technically he's back to ruin my life, arrogant jerk, but you get the picture...
And even if all the bloodthirsty press prints are stories about me and Jareth's sordid past,
gag me with a spork, its still makes me more vulnerable then I've ever been to the world and
I hate that.
I hate that and I hate him.
Stupid Goblin King. Stupid overbearing, pompous little snot. I hope his electric shaver goes
berserk and gives him a crew cut. He'd look awful in it. No, no I hope they decide the
Goblin King needs lime green hair for the movie, and lipstick... lots of lip stick.
Berry Bright or Sassy Orange.
******************************************************************************************
I push a certain arch nemesis out of my head and scramble out from underneath my collection of
blankets. I stretch and smile at Princess who growls halfheartedly as I lift her out of my
lap. The fuzzy toy poodle rolls the few necessary inches I require to stand and promptly goes
back to sleep.
I know exactly how she feels. Minus the whole furry thing that is.
I walk across my plush carpeting in my apartment and reach to turn the tv off manually; I've
lost a total of about twenty five remotes in the three years I've had this set. Movie star or
no the company's stopped sending me new ones. Go figure.
I guess fame only stretches so far.
My finger slips though and Buffy flips over to Star Entertainment. I usually make it a point
not to watch these kind of things, its just too weird to hear yourself talked about, but I
pause as some primped, stereotypical blonde, proceeds to announce the next story.
"Coming up next on Star Entertainment, an exclusive interview with up and coming star Jared
King about his newest costar and old flame, Sarah Elliott."
I stare in dumbfoundment as the screen switches to a clip from the upcoming interview showing
Jareth, reclined, relaxed, talking intimately and animatedly with yet another blonde reporter.
There's a dull roar in my ears that threatens to overwhelm me though a few of the words
penetrate... "bed... amazing... ring... frying pan... law suite... grudge..." And right
before the clip is cut, in the middle of Jareth telling an ecstatic reporter details about our
non existent relationship that I wouldn't divulge to a close girl fiend, he looks up and
stares directly into the camera, a little smirk curling his sensual lips.
I turn the television off with a click that sounds loud in my deadly silent living room. Its
one thing for the press to make crap up because of our little fight on the set. Its another
thing entirely for Jareth to go on a nationally syndicated show and tell millions of people
where each and every little freckle is on my body.
Screw the bodyguard, I'm hiring a hit man.
The Goblin King is going down.
Glad you guys are enjoying the story. I'm going to be gone most this week, sad I know, so
leave me some encouraging reviews for when I get back. Excess reviews will get you a chapter
faster. Trust me. I was going to wait till next week to touch this story but was good and
wrote this for ya'll... hint hint... hehe Though only one person has reviewed my new Mummy
fic chapter... *sniffles* Guess Laby fans are more obsessive huh? Not that I'm complaining!
Disclaimer: Go read another chapter for one. *rasberry*
************************** Lights, Camera, Action! Chapter Four *************************
We didn't film any today, on my insistence. I don't care that I looked like some bitchy
Hollywood starlet. Really. Normally, I would. But normal doesn't exactly include a Goblin
King for a costar. So nah!
Mike was less than pleased. Mr. Tony Gray was secretly relieved, I think. The whole near
fist fight at our first meeting kind of unnerved him. Or maybe I just have an overactive
imagination. He could have had a dozen plausible reasons for locking himself in his office
after me and Jareth's little transaction in my dressing room.
I still like Mr. Gray.
Mike can go take a flying leap.
So here I am, curled up on my obscenely expensive leather couch, watching reruns of Buffy the
Vampire Slayer on my first Friday night back in giddy, gaudy Hollywood. Yes, I am aware of
the patheticness that is my life.
And what did Jareth do after I forcibly introduced him to a rack of costumes, glitter, and
feather boas? Let's just say that it's a good thing Mr. Gray was still locked in his office.
I didn't storm out to my loyal, waiting limousine until Jareth called me a sniveling sorry
excuse for a heroine. Okay, okay there were a few more expletives involved in the actual name
calling but I'm trying to keep this PG-13. Besides, I swear half of those things were
anatomically impossible.
Of course I've never heard of anyone with their head up their ass as far as he's managed so
who knows what strange feats are possible for a disgustingly flexible Goblin King.
Anyway, he called me a name, I threw a stapler at his head, he ducked... And so one and so
on until I found the breath to heave a powdered donut, okay not as great as a stapler but I
had already hurled everything else in the general vicinity including the camera guy's toupee,
and then march out. He looked amazingly pissed but the image was slightly ruined by the white
sugar covering his steaming face. It looked like he was an unfortunate victim of an exploding
flour factory.
I love being an actress. In a boring nine to five job antics like that would get me fired.
If I was say an Accountant, Jareth could show up as my new coworker and I would have been
forced to punch numbers with him for eight hours before I could drag him outside and throttle
him. Its much more satisfying to whop him with something on the spot, trust me. And now I've
probably fueled the gossip mills for the next several months all by my lonesome.
I'm kinda an enigma to the papers. I love who I am. My weight, height, looks... I have
great self esteem, have yet to break any major laws, say anything career breakingly stupid,
and my love life isn't that much more screwed up then any of my coworkers.
Okay, my lack of love life isn't much more screwed up. Its not that I'm not wanting to see
anyone. Its more every time I start to date a really great guy I look at him one day and
figure out he's a lying, cheating, scum loving bastard. Or I walk in on him with my roommate
or coworker or there was that one guy who I found in the bathroom with the maid who was at
least fifty years older than him.
The last one gave me nightmares for a few weeks that had more to do with pure ick factor than
any emotional scarring. Though I can never look at people over the age of sixty quite the same
way...
So anyway, the media has this thing for me. Its great for my career, which Mike loves, and I
usually don't mind the extra scrutiny. Emphasis on the usually.
I know they're all waiting for the crack in my armor, the chink, the proverbial Achilles heel.
And I always thought they would never find it. I mean seriously, when is something from the
Labyrinth going to come back to haunt me?
Because the Labyrinth is... I don't know. If I wasn't famous I would go to a psychiatrist
and figure out why something that happened so long ago still has such a hold on me. Why it
takes up such a large chunk of my memory and thoughts.
Not that I don't have a psychiatrist, all actors and actresses do. They're kind of like an
expensive sports car. Everyone has one, even if you don't drive it. I go to my sessions once
a week and me and Phil talk about the latest movies and books we've read. At the end of the
hour he makes a few notes about my 'progress' on a few 'issues' like trust and commitment,
blah, blah, etc. Occasionally he leaks some tidbits to the press. I'm happy, Phil's happy
and a hell of a lot richer, and the reporters are satisfied for a few days.
But I am famous and Phil would die if I actually tried to talk to him about something real.
Something that really bothered me. And now Jareth's back in my life.
Okay, technically he's back to ruin my life, arrogant jerk, but you get the picture...
And even if all the bloodthirsty press prints are stories about me and Jareth's sordid past,
gag me with a spork, its still makes me more vulnerable then I've ever been to the world and
I hate that.
I hate that and I hate him.
Stupid Goblin King. Stupid overbearing, pompous little snot. I hope his electric shaver goes
berserk and gives him a crew cut. He'd look awful in it. No, no I hope they decide the
Goblin King needs lime green hair for the movie, and lipstick... lots of lip stick.
Berry Bright or Sassy Orange.
******************************************************************************************
I push a certain arch nemesis out of my head and scramble out from underneath my collection of
blankets. I stretch and smile at Princess who growls halfheartedly as I lift her out of my
lap. The fuzzy toy poodle rolls the few necessary inches I require to stand and promptly goes
back to sleep.
I know exactly how she feels. Minus the whole furry thing that is.
I walk across my plush carpeting in my apartment and reach to turn the tv off manually; I've
lost a total of about twenty five remotes in the three years I've had this set. Movie star or
no the company's stopped sending me new ones. Go figure.
I guess fame only stretches so far.
My finger slips though and Buffy flips over to Star Entertainment. I usually make it a point
not to watch these kind of things, its just too weird to hear yourself talked about, but I
pause as some primped, stereotypical blonde, proceeds to announce the next story.
"Coming up next on Star Entertainment, an exclusive interview with up and coming star Jared
King about his newest costar and old flame, Sarah Elliott."
I stare in dumbfoundment as the screen switches to a clip from the upcoming interview showing
Jareth, reclined, relaxed, talking intimately and animatedly with yet another blonde reporter.
There's a dull roar in my ears that threatens to overwhelm me though a few of the words
penetrate... "bed... amazing... ring... frying pan... law suite... grudge..." And right
before the clip is cut, in the middle of Jareth telling an ecstatic reporter details about our
non existent relationship that I wouldn't divulge to a close girl fiend, he looks up and
stares directly into the camera, a little smirk curling his sensual lips.
I turn the television off with a click that sounds loud in my deadly silent living room. Its
one thing for the press to make crap up because of our little fight on the set. Its another
thing entirely for Jareth to go on a nationally syndicated show and tell millions of people
where each and every little freckle is on my body.
Screw the bodyguard, I'm hiring a hit man.
The Goblin King is going down.