Hollywood After Dark Ch. 04

Rubbing my temples, I jerked up straight in the chair as there was a knock on the door. Oh please God, don't let them come back. They weren't packing heat last time, don't make them have a gun now! Quickly putting away the flask, I scanned the desk frantically for a weapon of some kind, something to defend myself with. All I could find was a dull letter opener, which I promptly grabbed and hoarded greedily in my hands beneath my desk. They might get old Charlie, but not without a fight.

The knock came again, the door rattling in it's hinges as it always did no matter how hard the knock. My heart raced as I tried to compose myself.

"Yeah, come in," I called, rubbing my finger over the blade of the letter opener.

The door opened and in stepped a massive looking line backer type, dressed in slacks and a maroon shirt and navy blue tie. His shoulders were massive and broad and for a split second I thought that it was Dennis, having gone to change shirts before coming back again. I lifted the letter opener from the desk instinctively but caught myself as the man, who I now realized I didn't recognize, stepped aside and a woman followed him.

In stepped Katherine Heigl, one of Willis' girls, whom I had gotten to know intimately at one of his parties a few months back. She looked simply gorgeous, her long legs flowing beneath a summer dress and her massive tits straining against the fabric of said dress as she walked in. Her normally long blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail behind her head and though she wore little makeup, the high cheek bones still made her appear like an angel sent from heaven, like one of those angels I had seen while attending Mass with my mother as a child.

She looked nervous as she walked in, pausing a step or two in front of the door as her bodyguard or whoever shut the door behind her.

Katherine smiled at me, and for a moment the throbbing of my head ceased as I was held in her gaze.

"Hello Charlie, how are you?" she said sweetly. If she only knew how I was...

"Fine," I said, my throat dry. Clearing it, I spoke again. "I'm doing okay Katherine. And you?"

"I'm doing okay Charlie, thanks," she said, walking further in and taking a seat in one of my threadbare second hand chairs. She kicked some files out of the way as she sat down, her escort keeping his position near the door as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

"Are you okay Charlie? You look a little rough," Katherine asked, a look of concern on her face.

I blotted my forehead with the back of my hand and mustered a weak smile.

"I'm fine, don't worry about me. And what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" I asked. I wasn't lying either - since my first encounter with her a few months previous, I had yet to receive a better blowjob than the one that she gave. I could feel my 46 year old prick managing to grow slightly hard in my pants just thinking about it now.

"I came to offer you something," Katherine said. My eyes lit up - yes! Maybe today wouldn't be so bad after all.

Standing from my desk, I walked over to Katherine, unbuckling my belt as I walked.

"Well, okay. I don't normally like having other men around but hey, whatever works I guess," I said, loosening my pants as I stood in front of her.

Katherine recoiled her head away in disgust, much to my surprise.

"Oh God, no Charlie! Not that! What do you think I am, some kind of whore?" Katherine spat at me, her head turned away. This pissed me off. The mouth on this bitch was sure to get her in trouble one of these days and maybe I needed to be the one to let her know that.

I slapped her hard across the face as my pants hung around my thighs, making Katherine's head turn hard as she flopped back in the chair.

"Damn straight. You are Willis' property woman, or did you forget that?" I replied angrily. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her escort bodyguard take two biiigggg steps forward towards me, a cold look of hatred in his eyes that made me flinch in spite of myself.

Katherine put up a hand to stop him however and the big ox stood still in his tracks. Whoever he was, she had him trained like a puppy.

She rubbed her face with her hand and for a moment I felt sorry for hitting her. Then the gutsy way she had rebuked me rushed back into my thoughts and any sympathy was quickly drowned out.

"Are you saying no to me bitch? Maybe I need to give Willis a call and let him know that his whores are being mouthy lately," I replied angrily, my fists clenched tightly at my sides.

Katherine turned her head to look at me, her eyes pleading with me.

"No Charlie, don't. Please. Just listen to me, hear me out on what I have to say, alright? Please?" she said. She sounded like a scared little girl and in spite of my anger, I figured that I could at least hear her small talk for a minute or two before we got down to business.

"Fine, talk," I grumbled, zipping my pants up and walking back to the desk. Her man servant or whatever the fuck her was resumed his position against the wall, but his gaze never left my every move.

"I came here to make you an offer, and to talk to you about Mr. Willis. Is that alright?" she said.

"I have no problem with you bitching about him to me, if that's what you mean. But your offer has peaked my interest. Go on Katherine,"

She sighed heavily and brushed her hair out from her eyes, her right cheek red from my palm still.

"I...we...need your help in taking Willis and his whole operation down," she said.

I tried not to look surprised, but it was almost incredible after hearing that statement. In fact, it was almost laughable that this little nobody would try to worm her nose up into the business of one of the most powerful men in the country. Take Willis down indeed.

"You've got to be joking," I said, chuckling to myself at the mere idea. She stared at me hard.

"No, I'm not. The only reason I came to you is that I know you have had problems with him in the past, that he hasn't always helped you out like he should. That you of all people might be willing to even entertain the idea of getting back at him. You've seen the way he and his lap dog Hapsboro treat me and the other girls he's lured in. You've seen how he has reduced us to whores to do his bidding, just as you said. And if there is any decency left in Charlie Watterson at all, I think you know how wrong that is," she said, continuing to stare at me hard.

"Please! Katherine, whatever beef I have with Willis is between me and him and most certainly not you. I don't know where you get off coming in here with these stupid ideas and your bodyguards or whatever the fuck Ox over there is supposed to be, but you can just get it out of your head right now," I replied coldly. Reaching into my desk, I pulled out my flask once again, taking a hard, long pull on it. Regardless of how dumb she sounded now, I still didn't want to be hearing this. A man in Hollywood quickly learns to filter out the things he hears, and this was something that most certainly needed filtering.

"I know about Jessica, Charlie," she said coldly. I stopped in mid sip of the brandy, the metal flask pressing against my lips as the liquid fire inside sloshed around.

"You don't know shit," I said, pulling the container from my mouth and capping it back up, sliding it back into the desk in one fluid motion.

"That's not true. I know everything. People talk Charlie. They talk about how you were this big hot shot producer. How every film you touched was a sure fire hit. How you had Hollywood served up on a silver platter," she continued.

"Well you heard wrong. I never had any power over Hollywood, I just had a long lucky run,"

"Yes, you did. Too lucky almost. You tried to push things by bringing in new talent, didn't you Charlie? You tried to take control of it all - the casting, the production, the asking price for your films, everything. But you got greedy didn't you Charlie? You wanted too much," she said.

I stood up from my desk and leaned across it, glaring at her.

"You better watch your fucking mouth," I growled, a snarl crossing my lips. To my amazement, she continued unfazed.

"You brought in Jessica Biel for one of your projects. She was your pride and joy. You discovered her and convinced her to come to Hollywood and then you seduced her with ideas and promises of fame and fortune and the adoration of millions of people. But it didn't go like you wanted it to, did it Charlie? You're Hollywood dream existed only on screen didn't it?"

I felt a well of emotions beneath the surface - it was as if I was a separate person, one simply watching myself from outside my body as my mouth let my emotions run free.

"Shut up! Jessica was...Jessica is...she's not important any more!"

"Oh, but she is Charlie. What happened to her huh? You introduced her as your date at one of Willis' parties. You told him how big of a star she was going to be. How proud and happy you were to have full control over her career. But you said these things to the wrong person Charlie, didn't you?"

"I...I..."

"You fucked up. Willis smelled fresh meat and he moved in for the kill, whisking her away. First to projects of his own, then into the little harem he had built for himself here in LA. When was the last time you talked to her Charlie? A month? Six months? Two years?"

I collapsed into the chair, my eyes welling up with tears. Damn it, I couldn't let this woman get to me like this! I was Charlie FUCKING Watterson!

"I...I don't know,"

"Two years I bet then. That's a long time to sit and think things over, isn't it Charlie? To think about how you had the whole world and the control over one person in your hands and how you lost it, how you messed up," she said, each word tearing through me like a bullet ripping through my chest.

My outside view of myself could now see my real self sobbing like a baby in my chair. I wanted to crawl under a rock and be left alone at that point, but what was I to do? I had done the one thing you never should in this game: I let my emotions get the best of me.

"Two years is about right," I said, sobbing into my hands. "She never even called me,"

"And that makes you angry, doesn't it Charlie?" Katherine said, her voice more reassuring now, like a mother's to a child.

"Yes...yes..."

"Deep down, you blame this all on Willis, as you should. And I know you've had these dark, deep thoughts buried far inside about how to get back at him for this. How to get your life back, how to get Jessica back, haven't you?"

"Yes...why are you doing this? Oh Godddddd!!"

"Because we want to get back at him too Charlie, and you can help us. You can move within his ranks like we can't. You can help us take him down.

I laid my head on my desk, crying softly into my shirt sleeve, hating myself more and more for every tear.

"What...wha...do you want me to do?"

"I want your commitment. I want you to use any connections you have to help Alex and I strike at Willis, to get back at him for the way he's treated me and the girls before me and you and all the other people whose lives he has destroyed. In return, you have mine and Alex's promise that we will help you get Jessica back for you, to help you salvage what's left of your life," she said.

"Who, who is Alex?" I said, lifting my head as I wiped my tears away. The man in the corner walked over towards me hesitantly, as if I would bite his hand or something.

"Alexander Hilt. I'm a screen writer for Willis and...well, I used to be. Now I'm not so sure," he said, extending his hand out to my slowly, watching my every move. I took it and shook it gently, my fingers wet from my blubbering.

Wiping my eyes clear now, I leaned back in my chair and sniffled away the last of my heartache as I sighed.

"What do you want me to do?" I said. "Even though you are right, Willis deserves to pay, I can't promise anything and I think you know that,"

"I do. But what I want to hear from you is that you will try. That you will help us however you can without letting on that you are. Can you do that Charlie? We may not need your help, but in this rebellion we have begun, we need all the allies we can get," she said, standing up from her chair as I watched her shapely form move towards the door.

"I'll do what I can Katherine, that's all I can promise," I said to her, trying not too sound like the blubbering mess I had become in the last five minutes.

"Thank you Charlie. I'll call you when and if I know how you can help, ok?"

"Ok Katherine," I said as she opened the door.

Her escort, Alex I now knew, stepped outside the door and Katherine followed, pulling it almost closed behind her. She stuck her head back in for a moment, a smile on her face.

"Oh, and just between me and you Charlie, I always did enjoy the taste of your cock in my mouth," she said with a warm smile.

I laughed at this and smiled at her.

"Thanks," I said, watching as she smiled back before closing the door behind her.

For the second time that day, I wondered what kind of mess I had gotten myself into.

PETTY'S STORY:

I learned very quickly that things happen very fast in this industry. No sooner had I finished recording my single with Beyonce (it came the next morning, with a few minor tweaks to the baseline after our rendezvous in her hotel suite) than I was already jamming away with a full on band in the same studio, laying down a dozen tracks or so. Within two weeks, we had actually finished recording and the technician, Bill Blake, was putting the final production credits on it. Then it was just a matter of shooting the cover art and doing the insert booklet and my album was completely done. It had made my head spin how fast the whole process was done, but in the cut throat pop music world I suppose that was necessary - it was all about the product and getting it to consumers as fast as possible. Because of this rushed effort, I decided on the title of "Whirlwind" for the album itself, which was taken from one of my favorite tracks.

Now though, I was flying out to New York City to appear on Total Request Live with Beyonce to debut our single, "Mind Boggling Man". I felt extremely excited that I was going to be on the show, even in the limited capacity of a back up singer, but I knew that this was just a stepping stone. First the back up singing, then the full album and then...it scared me to think of how fast I might ascend to the level of fame. I had called all of my friends and family and told them to watch me. I had been on the outs with my mother for going on five years now, but Alex had encouraged me to at least stay in touch with her so that she knew I was doing ok. When I called to tell her the good news, she immediately asked about Alex, something that made me wince.

"How is he doing Petty? Has he found fame and fortune like you?" she said, her voice sounding a bit tinny on the phone.

"Last time I heard, he was doing alright," I replied, my voice deadpan so that she could infer that it was a sore topic. But like she always seemed to do, she wouldn't let up and pressed on.

"Last you heard? Oh Petty...don't tell me that you two broke up!" she wailed into the phone. My mother was a firm believer in strong, solid relationships and though she had never met him in person, I knew from their conversations on the phone that she really seemed to like Alex. In truth, I liked him well enough too and sometimes felt myself missing him, but after the fight we had, I wasn't about to go crawling back to him.

"Yes mother, we broke up. I'd really rather not talk about him if that is ok with you," I said, trying not to sound angry.

"You two seemed so happy together. Like two of a kind, the nice perfect couple. I told old Mrs. Glickman about you two and how peaceful your life was and,"

"Is this going anywhere mother? I really have a lot of stuff to do before my trip," I snapped, interrupting her.

There was a momentary pause on the other line. "No, I suppose not. I just hope you stay out of trouble now that Alex is gone Petty,"

I sighed loudly into the phone. "I will mother, don't worry. I really need to get going now so..."

"Yes yes, I understand. Good bye Petty, I will watch for you on television. One more thing...I'm very proud of you,"

This hit me hard. My mother never complimented me - not when I was a kid and not now. My heart felt tight at her words but there was just too much baggage to show it.

"Thank you. Good bye," I said, forcing myself to hang up the phone. I set the receiver down and bent my head over, breathing hard as her words washed over me.

That was last night and as far as I was concerned, in the past. Antamount had flown me out on a private jet with some of their suits, who had spent the duration of the long flight chattering away about deals and what not towards the front of the cabin. That left me the entire back two rows to put my feet up and relax, trying to calm my jitters about the show today.

When I touched down in New York, a limo was waiting for me (and only me, the suits embarking on their own errands) to take me to Times Square and MTV's studios. The afternoon sun in the city was still high in the sky, and the heat was uncomfortably hot, even on the ground with the tall sky scrapers over head. As the limo turned the corner into Times Square, I saw the gaggle of teenagers waving signs and chatting with one another, all of them there hoping to catch a glimpse of celebrities zooming by, not to mention getting a coveted request in on the show. I rolled down the window of the limo to look at them and noticed that they really didn't give two shits about me. They watched me drive by, scoping me out for a moment in excited anticipation but I guess I disappointed because they quickly returned to their conversations.

The limo pulled into the MTV parking lot and I was led out by the driver. A short, stocky man with thick glasses was there waiting for me, a gigantic clip board in his hand.

"Hello Petty, I'm Roger, I will be your liaison today here at the studio. Antamount sent me specifically to be at your beck and call today so if there is anything you need, please let me know. I spoke with your agent, Rick Dugan on the phone and we have laid out your dressing room just the way you like it. Is there anything else you need right away?" the man said, his words a little jumbled and fast. I was struck by the speed in which he talked and yet amazed that I could actually follow him. I knew that New Yorkers had a habit of talking fast (a sharp contrast to those in LA) but this guy was a master at it.

We walked through the parking garage and into the elevator leading to the studio floor. The elevator was old and clanky, it's metal track grunting as we ascended upward. This created a bit of an uncomfortable silence in the enclosed space. I would normally have been friendly towards this apparent lackey, but what was there really to say?

Hitting the 2nd floor, I waited patiently for the ride to be over. Roger however, had other things on his mind.

"Oh! Before I forget! Mr. Hapsboro instructed me to give you these forms relating to your album and appearances on the show and any other publicity. He said that he meant to have it ready for you while you were recording, but that this was the quickest it could get done," he said, thrusting his heavy clipboard out to me. I watched his expectant eyes warily as I took the clipboard, scanning the mountain of pages.

I felt rushed as he stared at me, so I quickly went through the pages, looking for anything that caught my eye. It was pretty boring stuff, mostly legalese written to say that I would give ownership of the album to Antamount, blah blah. I didn't really like the idea of signing my songs away to a corporation, but I certainly wasn't going to blow a record deal over that. I could always write more songs, I reasoned, so what if these belonged to them?