Lisa Miller and the Boundless Success

Lisa Miller's Apartment

Penthouse

Rent: Freakishly Affordable

After the emotional stress of that morning, Lisa wanted nothing more than to get home, take a nice, long shower, and lay in bed for the next week and half. Unfortunately, she knew that tonight was the first of a long stream of interviews that would accompany the press tour to promote the movie she had just finished shooting.

And it wasn't just the interviews. It was the cast parties, the lunches, dinners and house visits to hollywood producers and suits that needed placating, the handshaking and ass kissing, the red carpets, the guest appearances, and the constant media attention, so the public wouldn't forget who you were before your next movie came out.

Lisa had been through it three times before, but she wasn't sure that she'd survive this time. 'Maybe I'm not cut out for this.' It was about two when she got out of the shower. Knowing that the driver would be by in a few hours to pick her up, she slipped into a night gown, closed the blinds, and crawled into bed.

Scott's Apartment

One bedroom/One bath

Rent: Reasonable for Hollywood

Scott had decided to enjoy the free meal at Powder, but, other than that, he really had no plans for the day. He didn't work again till next weekend. Maybe this Nick guy would actually attract more jobs– not that he needed the money, but working kept his mind off of things. One thing, at least, had never changed for Scott: thinking wasn't his strong suit; more often than not, it just made him sad, or frustrated, or just straight uncomfortable.

The only other thing that kept his mind so occupied was cooking. So, as soon as he got home from lunch, he started on dinner. And, just to make sure his mind would be sufficiently appeased, he turned on the TV.

Hours passed while Scott prepared his food, till it was nearly 7 p.m. The food was done, so Scott set up a TV tray and sat down. He sat on his remote on accident, and the channel randomly changed to some entertainment program.

E! News

Blockbuster: Faraway

Actress: Lisa Miller

"Alright," the TV personality began. "If you're just joining us, we're here with the female lead of the sci-fi action blockbuster that's set to be released at the end of this summer, just three months away, titled: Faraway. Here is Lisa Miller."

"It's good to be here."

"This is surreal," Scott commented to himself, as he ate the brilliant, home-made dish.

"Right, before the break– well– we covered all the 'nice' topics. But now, we all gotta know, what exactly happened on set this past monday?"

Scott could tell that Lisa had been expecting the question to come. She looked dangerously 'surprised' by it for a split second, but then she composed herself, like she was about to execute a plan.

"I was surprised at the amount of interest around this simple misunderstanding–"

"That's certainly not what the paper's have been saying about it."

"I know! It's a bit ridiculous–"

"Have you read, personally– or, do you read anything about yourself in the tabloids and news?"

"No. At least, not generally– and not this time either."

'She's lying,' thought Scott. He had noticed Lisa playing with one of the rings on her left hand. This had been her 'tell' since high school.

"I'm still new to all this, so I try not to psyche myself out. Anyways–"

"Yeah, yeah, sorry. Back to monday..."

"Right, monday..."

"It was a sex scene–"

"Yes–"

"And you ref–"

"The director thought that we should push back shooting to the next day. They hadn't found a body double for me yet– you see, they wanted to shoot us together, one after another, so the editing and directing would be more– ah– smooth: comprehensive, y'know?"

"Well that's definitely from the horse's mouth. What I mean is, we had an E! correspondent just off set. Alex. He saw the director storm off the set, followed by the small cast and crew. It seemed to us that the shoot had been cancelled unexpectedly."

Even Scott saw what the interviewer was trying to do. If Lisa became flustered, she would be trapped. Scott didn't think Lisa was lying– he didn't know anything about it, and Lisa hadn't mentioned it– 'Is this what was upsetting her?– but the interviewer obviously did. However, Lisa shot back.

"Well, I guess I fibbed a bit back there." She pulled out from under her seat a magazine. "I do read E! magazine whenever I come across it."

"Oh my gosh!"

"Yep! I'm a fan!"

"You are, thank you, from all of us here a E!"

"Your welcome. And, this is today's edition. You covered what happened yourselves: the director, production company, and studio all say the same thing. It was understood from the beginning that I would be doing the sex scene– and I did– but that it wouldn't involve me having sex on camera."

"Well, if it's in our magazine, it must be true!" They both laughed, and so did Scott, reveling in his friend's victory.

"Like I said," Lisa concluded, "It was just a misunderstanding."

"There you have it viewers: the case is closed. Lisa Miller here at E! It was great talking to you."

"Anytime."

E! News

Backstage

"The magazine slip was a nice touch," Nick commented, as Lisa took off her microphone and made her way off the set.

"I thought so to," Lisa agreed, obviously pleased with herself. "That two-faced weasel certainly didn't see it coming."

"Be nice," Nick warned. Lisa mouthed the words back to him, while nodding her head, as if to say, "I know, I know."

"What's next?" Lisa asked, checking her phone for messages. There weren't many– she really didn't talk to anyone of the cast or crew once the movie wrapped, except before and after cast interviews and parties.

"For tonight," Nick scrolled through the schedule on his mobile device, "...Sean's cast party." But even before Nick had finished the name Lisa had made a horrible groan. "You better go."

"I hate that guy!" Lisa exclaimed.

"B–" Nick began to repeat before Lisa said it for him: "Be nice. Be nice– yeah, got it." Lisa twirled around to face Nick, her face in a false blush and fluttering eyes. "I can do nice." Then her face dropped and she looked at a point some ten feet behind Nick, imagining a phantom Sean Bower. "I despise that guy."

"You're an actress," Nick stated simply, as if that settled the matter.

But when Lisa crossed her arms, looking unconvinced, he went on with the speech he had given her at least three times before.

"And that means your a socialite. Meet people. Kiss ass. Be yourself. And don't do anything stupid. Deals don't get made in the boardroom anymore– they haven't for a long time. There's only so much I can do for you: especially if you don't 'do' for yourself."

Lisa looked defeated, but miserable, to say the least. 'This is no good,' thought Nick. "Be yourself." That was Nick's constant advice, despite working in Hollywood. He knew that if someone wasn't able to sell themselves then they couldn't sell a damn thing. Lisa needed to want to go, or at least wantto agree she should go, or else everyone looking for something to buy would most definitely pass her over.

"Who knows?" Nick added, conversationally, hoping not to tip his hand, "You might actually meet someone you'd like to spend time with, instead of making these temporary friendship's while on set." A spark hit Lisa, but Nick wasn't looking. "HEY!" he exclaimed when his mobile device was snatched from his unsuspecting hands.

"Thanks, Nick!" Lisa ran for it, but Nick went after her.

"Don't you think of doing a THING to my phone, Lisa Miller! What the hell is the–? Are you going through my contacts!"

"Sorry! I still don't have his number!"

Sean Bower's (freaking) Mansion

9:15 p.m.

Leased, not Rent or Own

Scott never liked parties, especially Hollywood parties: a thousand people who barely know each other all meandering about, talking and eating, while the host revels in the obscurity of it all. He had rarely ever gone to a party of his own accord, usually being dragged along by a few friends. Most of the time, it was for the free food– which, in Hollywood, was more often than not exotic and delicious. But, for Scott, he could never shake the feeling that he wasn't suppose to be there, as if someone had made a mistake in inviting him.

That's why this situation was the worst. Here at party, to which he most definitely WASN'T invited (by the host, at least), lost and unable to find the person who had guilted him into coming. However, momentarily, Scott forgot about all that. There, in the corner, was the food table. . .and it had burritos on it! 'SCORE!' Scott smiled, and maneuvered through the crowd over to the promised delights.

"I KNEW IT! I knew I'd find you here. Good thing I waited, huh?"

Lisa Miller

Note: The best looking girl at the party

"Oh, hey," Scott turned and said, swallowing his half of burrito. He couldn't keep his eyes from wandering.

Scott Pilgrim

Note: Acutely 'aware' of Lisa right now

Lisa smiled and grabbed Scott's hand. "If you're done eating, I need you to stay close to me."

"What, why!" Scott glanced back at the plethora of food.

"I gotta walk around and talk to everybody!" Lisa explained, slightly panicked, but hiding it well. "I've been here for twenty minutes and managed not to be noticed, too much, but that's not gonna last. C'mon!" Lisa pulled Scott away, as he reached out longingly for the food table– letting out a miserable "NNNNOOOOOO!" which was barely audible over the party noises.

Over the next twenty minutes, Lisa, followed reluctantly by Scott, made her way through the main dining hall into the next room. The various other actors and actresses, producers and studio management, and directors and producers barely took notice of Scott. They were all enraptured by Lisa Miller.

And though Scott noticed that both Lisa and whoever she was talking to were playing a sort of game, pleasing and flattering one another without necessarily meaning it, he first began to understand how BIG of a deal Lisa was. No one had seen such a promising and talented up and coming actress in at least a decade. She had sky rocketed to the top, but, instead of being despised for it, everyone, even fellow actors, couldn't help but like– if only out of their curiosity– Lisa Miller. Still, none of this helped soothe Scott's feeling of being used.

"This sucks," Scott said firmly. "You suck!"

"I do not," Lisa dismissed Scott's complaint. "I'm the best. I'm about to get you your next job. Hey, Mark!"

Mark Whalestein

Big-time Director

Note: Kinda scary

"Lisa Miller, what a surprise," the large man, wearing a T-shirt that didn't hide his sleeve tatoo, said drolly. "How's is Miss Too-good-for-my-movie doing today?"

"Hey," Scott said, not all together sure if he wanted to start a fight. Mark looked directly into Scott's eyes, neither intimidated nor threatening. Scott calmed down for a moment, but said with a frown, "You're being kind of a dick."

"Scott," Lisa said a bit nervously, placing her hand on Scott's back, and pinching him hard. Scott gave a jump. "That's just Mark's blunt sense of humor. Be nice," Lisa echoed Nick's words back to him, "since he's gonna be your new boss."

Mark's eyebrows raised, but Scott remained stern. They both looked at each other closely, sizing each other up.

"Scott's a stuntman. No," Lisa said dramatically, "He's the greatest stuntman EVER." Mark's eyes were focused on Lisa while she spoke, but quickly fell back upon Scott. The music and conversation seemed to fade, and all eyes around them seem to be focusing on Mark and Scott's silent stare off. Then, all at once, the tension broke.

Mark smiled. "I've heard of you."

"Does my reputation proceed me?" Scott asked earnestly.

"Don't be lame, Scott," Lisa scolded, smacking him across the head.

"I'm in a bind, of sorts," Mark explained. "Your about the right build and height–"

"Is that why were looking me up and down?"

Mark ignored him. "We're doing a huge stunt on my latest movie– the one that Miller passed up to work on Faraway." Lisa was already talking to a few other guys who had been standing beside Mark. "You in?"

"Sure," Scott said apologetically.

"Awesome," Mark nodded, as he turned to face Lisa. "Good to meet your friend, Miller. Okay?" Lisa nodded. "Yeah–?" Mark turned back to Scott, who nodded nervously, unsure of what he was agreeing to. "Alright," Mark concluded waving to Lisa, "Say 'hi' to your mother for me."

Scott stood dumbfounded, as Lisa waved goodbye. "What just happened?"

"You just leveled up!" Lisa exclaimed, hitting Scott in the arm. "Be happy."

"Right," Scott said, still wide-eyed, and a little hungry.

"Oh, no," Lisa turned around to face Scott.

"What's a matter?" Scott said concerned, as he watched Lisa mouth something like: "No, no, no– they didn't see me– please, tell me they didn't see me..."

"They didn't see me, did they!"

"Who?" Scott looked around.

"Uh. . .7'o'clock–"

"My seven or your seven?"

"Behind me left shoulder–!" Lisa chided him. "Blue dress, green eyed girl, and the douche that looks like he's wearing a bath robe.

"Oh," Scott said, a hint of realization in his voice. "You mean the two people walking over to us?"

"Dammit, Scott!" But it was too late now. Lisa had turned around to in her haste to see if they were actually coming for her, and they had made eye contact. Lisa, almost instinctively, put on a wide smile, and death gripped Scott's hand.

"What'd happening?" Scott said, ready for a fight.

"Get ready. . .this is gonna be a tough one."

Outside Lisa Miller's Apartment

Note: Left party early

"Ugh. . " Lisa groaned. She got out of the car and steadied herself on the pavement. 'Note to self: these heels no longer fit.'

"What's 'Ugh'?" Scott asked as he too exited the car. "Where are we?"

"We're at my apartment," Lisa answered that question first. "And I'm just gonna complain about being successful if I explain, so let's just drop it."

"That's alright," Scot shrugged, watching the limo turn the corner and drive out of sight. "It's not complaining if you're drunk."

"I'm not that drunk," Lisa protested. This was true: she was somewhere in between buzzed and drunk– and it didn't feel very good.

"I'm just saying that sometimes you need to let it out," Scott argued. "For instance," Scott demonstrated, "I hate the fact that I don't get to see Stacy, or Wallace, or Kim, or anyone anymore." Scott was definitely into the area of 'drunk'.

Lisa took a deep breathe. 'C'mon, I don't want to complain on the street." Lisa, once again, grabbed Scott's hand and led him to he-didn't-know where. "Home sweet home," Lisa said to no one in particular, taking off her heels and putting her purse down by the door.

"Your home," Scott continued to complain. He collapsed on a stool, laying his head down on Lisa's kitchen counter. "I want bed."

"I was just saying," Lisa finally confessed, "that the biggest thing I miss is the smallness of being me. Now I'm 'Lisa the actress', or 'Lisa the star', or whatever, to whoever I meet."

" 'whom' ever," Scott corrected, lazily.

"Grammar. . .phsht. . .And I miss having real friends. Oooo," Lisa grabbed an invisible person by the neck, "I just know that hateful bitch, Heather, hates me as much as I hate her. But how do you respond to back handed compliments and 'it was just a joke'!"

"Fight!" Scott provided an answer. Lisa went on for a while about her co-stars, Heather and Sean, and about how she hated them. "They're not bad people. . .they're just. . .just. . .such USERS! Well, I guess I'm just like them."

Scott didn't respond. 'C'mon, Scott. Say, "You're not a user!" Defend me from myself, c'mon!' Lisa noticed that Scott was nodding off. What prompted her to say what she did next, one could only guess.

"Hey, Scott?" Lisa said timidly, laying her head on the other side of the counter while continuing to stand in her kitchen.

"Mm..."

"Why did you leave Toronto?" Lisa saw Scott's eyes open wider, but he didn't answer. "What happened with you and Ramona?"

". . ."

"Don't force yourself," Lisa said compassionately. She took her head off the counter, and started to walk away. "You have a bad enough memory as it is: forcing it will just clutter things more. Sorr–"

As Lisa was exiting the kitchen, something had caught her by the arm. She was yanked back a little, but didn't stumble. She turned to see Scott crawled up on the counter, reaching out to grab her, and looking at her pleadingly in the eyes. "Don't go."

He slowly let go. Lisa turned around, rubbing her arm where Scott had been holding it. She could still feel the lingering sensation. "I was just going to the bathroom. . .you can sleep on the couch, if you want. . .I don't think you should leave this late– in your condition. It will be like a thank you for taking care of me last night."

Scott had looked away from Lisa when she started talking, and resumed his seat on the stool. Lisa took a long time to say he could stay the night, and Scott hadn't looked up from the counter once.

"Alright, Scott. Goodnight."

"Ah– wait," Scott said, loudly, before Lisa had a chance to turn around. "I don't want to forget. . .I don't have to forget, this time. So, telling you will help."

Lisa waited, unsure if Scott meant he was going to begin right now; but he remained silent. Lisa hated herself for what she was about to do, but she had to know. she couldn't stand not knowing. ". . .you left off with your sister's reception."

"We were great again," Scott said, almost immediately. "We started talking out our problems, and we both realized that what we had been really arguing about was the direction our lives were heading. Ramona realized that she didn't want to stay in Toronto anymore: she said that it felt like we were taking another step toward 'permanent'. I didn't understand that. My mom and dad had chances to travel all around the world, but they could still call some place– one place– home."

Scott was crying. Lisa was so conflicted. A part of her wanted to rush to Scott to comfort him. But she knew what that could turn in to. She knew that what she wanted right now, and what Scott needed, were completely different things.

She walked into the hall and grabbed something off the desk. Scott, with his face in his arms that lay across the counter, felt something poke the top of his head. Lisa was holding out a box of tissues for him. After a few minutes of Scott cleaning out his nose, and wiping his eyes, he began again.

"I asked her if I was 'permanent'. I told her that I thought we were 'permanent', and so that 'permanent' couldn't be such a bad thing! She didn't respond to that, but somehow we moved on and kept fighting about other things. We eventually got to talking about what we wanted in life– what we wanted for our future– and that's when it hit both of us. . .the things we wanted were so different."

Now Lisa was crying, grasping at the tissues faster than the box could supply them. Scott looked miserable, and his misery was her misery. She sobbed and wept, and said through hurried breathes, "But. . .you loved each other. You loved each other SO MUCH! You couldn't– how couldn't you–?"

"That's not what broke us up," Scott answered. "We were both determined to work at it...That whole argument only lasted a day. Well, I say 'only', but it felt like years to me. . .Then a week later, Romona found the ring in my jacket pocket–"

"Scott. . .no," mouthed Lisa. Her voice was too hoarse, and her emotions to uncontrolled, to speak.

Scott nodded. "I was going to propose to her. I had been planning to do it for a month."

"What did she do, when–?" Lisa had found her voice for a second, determined to know everything, but lost it before she could finish. Scott seemed to understand.

"She immediately ran to the bedroom to find me. She hugged me so tightly that I didn't understand AT ALL what was happening. She said over and over again that she was sorry– and how sorry she was. When she pulled back to show me the ring in her hand, I realized that we couldn't be together. That she was going to leave me. I held her back, begging with her, pleading for her not to go. I asked her to forget it. To forget about everything and just be with me. . .She almost agreed."

Scott smiled weakly. It seems both Lisa and him were out of tears. Lisa nodded her encouragement for him to go on.

"We didn't talk about it much over the next two weeks. But we spent every moment together, holding hands like lovers, but nothing more. We went around to everyone we thought should know, and briefly explained to them that we were moving on. That Ramona would be leaving, and that we had both decided that it was the right decision."

"But–! BUT! BUT THAT'S NOT FAIR!" Lisa screamed at the top of her now worn down and fragile lungs. "You both loved each other. . .you both. . .it should be enough. . .love really should be enough."

Scott shook his head once. "Being with Ramona taught me to hold on, and how to let go. So I let go of her, and Toronto, and everything that was holding me back from living how I wanted. . .Looking back, I see that for a long time I hated myself, and that just sunk me into a huge pit of denial. It sucks, but I think now...I can handle anything."

Lisa let a single weak laugh. "You're Scott Pilgrim. To me, it always seemed like you could handle the world." Scott smiled. "No," Lisa said, a sudden drama in her sad voice, "the UNIVERSE." Scott chuckled a bit, but it died away.

Lisa searched for something to say, and was deeply disappointed with what came out: "Kinda ironic," she said, trying to smile. "How it started with you two arguing over leaving Toronto– and now you're both gone–?"

"I guess." Scott rubbed the back of his head, unsure of where to go from here. "I guess I'll go to bed now, on the couch. Thanks, Lisa."

But before Scott could walk more than a couple steps, Lisa hugged him tightly from behind. "Scott. . ."

"Yeah."

". . .thanks for coming with me tonight, and for letting me drag you around. You really saved me."

"Forget about it."

". . .thanks for being my friend. . .thanks, for everything," and Lisa squeezed him harder. Scott placed his hands on top of hers, trying to return any amount of her affection. She let go, slowly, after a long while. Scott didn't turn to face her, but he didn't move forward to lay down either.

"You're welcome."