Sometimes I lose track of what I’m doing.
Sometimes I lose track of what I’m doing. I don’t mean to be so flighty. It just sometimes happens that way.
Here’s a taste of Cake 2.8? to give you an idea of what happens.
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Title: Cake 2.8?
Author: Harper Kingsley
Genre: Drama, Celebrity
Character: Dahl Quinzant
CAKE 2.8?
“Someday I’m gonna be famous (or infamous), but it won’t be in my lifetime.”
– Dahl Quinzant
A thousand eyes burned against her skin. She thought she could feel the sunburn forming and she couldn’t stop it. There would never be enough sunblock to protect her from all of their attention.
“I think I’m going crazy,” she announced in her Companion’s office bright and early Monday morning. The sun was shining, birds were singing, and she wanted to rip out of her skin and scream. It would be like that scene in that one movie she’d done[1], when the demon/angel/genetic experiment monster had killed her.
“I have noticed that you’ve been a bit strange lately,”
Wallace said. “What seems to be the difficulty?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged her shoulders and let her fingers pick at the upholstery seam. With the money she paid, Wallace could afford to buy a new sofa or six. She wondered what he’d do if she tore a huge hole in the couch. Would he scream at her? Or would he look at her out of those tragically understanding eyes?
“Talk to me, Dahl. Tell me how you feel.” He leaned forward and his tone went pleading. “I want to help you, but you’ve got to talk to me. Please.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m just scared of being famous,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. It feels like too much is happening too quick. Suddenly everyone knows my name.” Dahl licked her lips and stared at her knees. “I’m scared to go outside.”
[1. That horrible little job she’d only taken to pay for the electricity.
It hadn’t seemed so bad at the time. She’d walked in and everyone had been super nice to her. It was honestly one of the best on-set experiences she’d ever had. She’d filmed her scenes, enjoyed lunch from the craft table, and gone home. It was work as usual.
The movie didn’t reenter her focus until two years later. She got a phone call from Richmond Lee telling her that the movie had been entered in a film festival and there was hope that it might win some awards. He told her they’d mailed her a copy of her scene and that she’d receive tickets for the festival. She’d told him that it all sounded very cool and that she hoped the movie won “every award imaginable. I hope it sweeps the lists” to finally get him off the line.
Having a movie she’d acted in win an award should have had her enthusiastically looking up all information on the movie, but she was feeling a bit disaffected. Her mood had hit a fairly low point and she couldn’t get up the energy to care. (So she might win her very first movie award. Who cares. Nobody’s gonna want to watch such a hotbox of a movie. It isn’t worth getting all excited just to be disappointed. Keep your nose down and do your job.) It was easier to focus on getting out of bed and showering rather than to fall into imaginings of glamorous award ceremonies and too many beautiful people to count.
She passed on receiving the festival tickets, though she’d thanked them for offering. It had felt nicer to spend the night curled on the couch with her dog. She’d worn black and yellow Sunfire pajama pants and a ratty band tee shirt. Her hair was scraped back in a ponytail and she was wearing her glasses for the first time in forever–at least two months–and she marathon-watched every episode of “Oh My Ghostess.” And she felt like herself for once.
In that period of goodness, she did twelve great movies. The roles weren’t exactly big, but she definitely got the vibe that she’d stolen her scenes. She was beginning to make a name for herself.
She’d been happy when she got the DVD in the mail. She’d immediately watched her scenes and winced a bit at the bad acting, but it had been fun too. She always enjoyed watching herself on video. It was like seeing someone else, and she was maybe half in love with that other girl, but whatever.
She’d liked watching her scene and thought that she’d done a pretty good job considering how inexperienced she’d been. Then she’d played the whole movie and it had been horrifying. They’d seemed like such nice people, yet they’d managed to produce one of the most disgusting horror movies of all time. And there her face was, right at the center of it all.
It was mortifying.
Dahl wasn’t ashamed that she’d taken work when it was offered. She just didn’t want her name associated with a violence porn movie that didn’t even offer up some form of social commentary at the end. An apology. A statement of intent. Some reason for why the movie had been made other than some people liked to watch humans die in full detail.
It was one of the few movies that she refused to talk about. Her manager even made sure interviewers knew they weren’t allowed to ask about it. It was the movie that had never happened, and she was sticking to it.]
