Island of Despair

When all is lost...

This one is based slightly on my years rubbing elbows with all those rich people in Hollywood. You may struggle to differentiate between heroes and villains in this one.

There is no descriptive sex. All Implied sex is between consenting and legal age adults.

Copyright 2023. All rights reserved.

Relax; it's only a story, people.

Chase Burroughs stepped onto the set with a fair amount of trepidation. He'd been thinking about his wife Maria Burroughs most of the previous night, and sleep had not come easy. This afternoons' shoot was going to be one to enthrall all of the Hollywood talking heads and celebrity rags, for weeks after this episode aired. The 'talk of the town,' as it were.

But Chase wasn't only here to watch his wife's performance and provide moral support. The pair had married shortly after meeting on the set of Freeze! The cop parody film had been marginally successful, but besides meeting Maria, his stunning future wife, the bit had propelled Chase's career into a much sought after leading actor. The first two years of their marriage, had in fact been very 'rocky,' by normal standards. Chase was gone more than he was home. He constantly worried about his beautiful partner straying. Hollywood often does that to people, and he naturally feared that.

Scruples, monogamy, fidelity and especially long-term relationships were all too infrequent and most often ignored in the land of glitz and glitter. To top it off, Chase knew he was playing with a lit match, if not a keg of 'Dy-no-mite,' when it came to his wife. Her family had money. Because of that and her looks she was rarely denied anything, even from an early age. Maria was the apple of daddy's eye, and spoiled beyond all get out. Being entitled before arriving in Hollywood made for a one-two punch, but Chase loved her so he hoped for best.

Additionally challenging for the newlyweds, was Maria landing a few bit parts, and her agent was quickly getting her noticed and a fair amount of traction in the media rags. But the first two years, while rocky, had been anything but discouraging, despite initial concerns. Not only did they make it through an early tough patch, but by all appearances - public and private - they were still in full honeymoon mode. Then one day, Maria sat up in bed after a marathon round of explosive sex, and asked Chase what he thought about starting a family. His first thought was being astounded that she asked at all. She wasn't used to little things like permission. The idea appealed to Chase. To make another human - with this goddess of a woman - were the things dreams were made of.

Lucas was born four-and-a-half months ago, but Chase's relationship with Maria had drastically changed the month she found out she was preggos. She acted loving and genuinely concerned about her husband, with one exception; and Chase saw it for exactly what it was - acting.

The couple had caught quite a break with this current project. Desperation Island was wrapping up season two this week. They held the number one rating for their time slot on Tuesday nights, and Emmys were definitely a probability for Chase - character name, John Franklin, and his wife Maria, character name Lara Franklin. The other main character was Sven. Just Sven on the show, but the actor's name was Dak Bronson.

When Chase had first gotten the call about Desperation Island he had been fighting bumper-to-bumper traffic on the 101, heading away from Studio City, and heading home for his wife's birthday. He'd made big plans, but as usual, the chaotic Southern California lifestyle had intervened. At almost the same time, Maria's agent was on the phone with her, oddly to ask her if she'd be interested in playing the lead female actor, opposite her real-life husband.

Both were ecstatic with the good news upon Chase' arrival home, and never made it to Chez Francoise for dinner. Instead, Door Dash dropped off their favorite Chinese and two good bottles of wine. In their opulence, Door Dash was back two hours later with a bunch of caramel desserts and pastries. Chase absolutely loved caramel - especially licking it off of his wife's naked body.

Working on real sets that were either actually on a small rugged island, or designed to be, was very difficult on Maria during her pregnancy. Chase felt for her and often he would empathetically rub her back or her feet at night. Chase requested, and then almost demanded that directors keep her on flat, solid ground as often as possible. Unfortunately, that proved increasingly difficult - as writers kept upping the ante on the torrid secret affair between Lara Franklin and Sven. They simply needed somewhere to sneak off to, and not a makeshift tent. With their busy schedules, Maria and Chase rarely had time to discuss how they felt about the plot twists on the show. Chase certainly didn't like the way the larger guy seemingly man-handled his wife, but everything about their scenes were very professional, and on the up-and-up. There was very little to complain about, except nagging feelings in Chase' mind.

The week of Matthew's birth had been a much needed break for the pair, other than the actual day of his birth, that is. Family and friends were asked politely to give them some time to bond with their child. Both sets of parents knew they'd be seeing plenty of their grandson - considering Maria and Chase' line of work. The only constant interruption was the delivery people, showering the couple with flowers and other gifts. Even Dak Bronson sent flowers and a sentimental card.

The following week, Chase was back to work. Marie was scheduled to be off set for three weeks, and then return for her final four scenes of season two, including the big set up with Dak - Sven - leading into season three. That first week and into the second, Chase began to feel uneasy. He couldn't really put his finger on it. The people he worked with every day, seemed to be treating him differently. He'd be asked to share some pictures of the 'little tike,' and Chase was more than happy to share. But something was off. There were whispers, and those came to a grinding halt whenever someone noticed Chase in close proximity. A few times, he even pulled out his phone and reversed the camera to see if he had something on his face or in his nose.

The uneasiness and the whispers died down almost completely in the next two weeks leading up to Maria's return and the casts' much anticipated season wrap up. To Chase, everything seemed back to normal.

Now he stood back behind the directors, ready to watch his wife give what he half-hoped, half-dreaded would be a stellar performance. There had been whispers from the higher-ups at the studio - concerns that the programs' shelf life had been reached. None of those had been substantiated. There had also been quite a hoopla due to the infidelity and overall cuckolding theme, leading into season two. Both things the directors and producers dismissed them as normal Hollywood gossip, although none had flat out denied the rumors either. Tanking after only two seasons, would be very bad - bad for everyone concerned. The actors would take the gossip column heat, while the studio would likely take a loss.

If Chase was slightly anxious, Maria was nervous. She'd hinted, not all that subtly, that it might be better if Chase wasn't on set for this scene. "Nonsense," he told her unequivocally. He told her he loved her, she was his wife, and how would it look if he wasn't there to support her. He added that they were both in 'the business,' and it was all part of their chosen profession. She told him, she might not perform well knowing her husband was just off camera, watching her passionately kiss, hold, and basically roll around in the warm sand for several minutes, nearly naked, with another man. Dak would be in a pair of boxers, and she in a fairly beat up bikini she had taken from one of the non-surviving women's suitcase back in season one. Unlike the mostly vanilla make-out scenes leading up to the season finale this was meant to be steamily sexy and passionate. This set would be closed - only essential crew - just in case of any wardrobe malfunctions.

But Maria's nervousness didn't stem from worries that one of her boobs might spring out of her suit. Her worry was how realistic the performance may look. While she was trying to put on the performance of her life for the sake of her job, Maria knew she would also have to put on a separate and very different performance for her husband - and others present who knew her well.

Of course, Maria had spoken to Dak in private about the scene - once during her first week at home with her newborn, and just to ensure she got her message through his thick skull, two days prior to their scene.

"Don't fuck up my marriage, Dak," she told him with surprisingly little emotion. "No macho shit, and try to make it look... uncomfortable, while also making it look comfortable. Do you understand me?"

Dak did understand - at least to a point. Maria knew she'd made herself clear, as best she could, and now it would be on her to help him remember, as they rolled around on the beach. Dak may have looked like a Scandinavian Neanderthal, but she also knew him to be quite intelligent. His large stature and Nordic features made him far better suited for a role on Game of Thrones, than Desperation Island.

The seven minute scene, which would be edited down to about two-and-a-half, post production, went off without a hitch. Maria breathed a sigh of relief and thought, Thank God, as the director said 'cut.' She didn't even give Dak a glance, as she hurried off camera, wanting to get to her husband for a hug.

But any thoughts or actions by anyone on set, was stymied, and the executive producer, other producers and directors all called a post-scene huddle. Maria found her husband's hand as they gathered in the shade of a pop up tent.

Sal (given name Saul) Rothenstein addressed the group directly. "Great scene Maria and Dak," he began. "I have some news for all of you. The rest of the cast and crew will be informed before the end of today. You've all heard the rumors. Well, sadly they're true as of last night. The network has decided this is our final season."

Boos and ahh's and grumbling ensued, as Sal tried to regain the groups' attention.

"I know this is a disappointing development," Sal continued. "For me as well, but hey, it's show biz. The execs don't see enough longevity in the script as it stands now to flesh out twelve new shows for season three. They want to go out on a high note. Right now we have work to do, in order to bring this series finale home. I have here, rewritten scripts for tomorrow's filming. There's major rewrites for John Franklin, Lara Franklin and a few others. Dak Bronson has about two minutes of dialogue changes. I expect all of you to remain professional, and for the main characters to spend tonight going through your scripts. I want to wrap this tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, absolute latest.

"Now," Sal concluded, "I've brought in a caterer to cover your evening meals in room, so order whatever you want. I'll see you all tomorrow morning on set."

Maria had been listening intently to Sal and steadily increased her grip on Chase's hand. She knew what this could mean for her husband's career. She had no idea how bad the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours were really going to be.

Chase' Story:

My day was turning to shit so fast and in ways I couldn't fathom. The love scene between Dak and my wife had been acted perfectly - almost perfectly, from my perspective, and perhaps a few others on the set. The problem for me, was watching them acting forced, while also trying to maintain the pretense for the director. I concluded there were two separate levels of acting taking place. I also wanted with everything in me, not to believe that.

Maria had finally come out of her funk. I hoped like hell that was due to Matthew's birth. To say that Maria was visibly distracted for the last eight months would be an understatement. She was also on edge, most times. Hormones and at least a half dozen other legitimate reasons could have been the cause, or part of the cause, but I still had to consider the possibility that it might be what I dreaded. To say I was on edge since Matthew's birth would also be an understatement. We didn't connect right away, like I'd read about. Something wasn't right. It was just a feeling inside me, but I just had this horrible feeling something wasn't right.

During those first weeks, while Maria was still home with Matthew, she would FaceTime me and I'd get the same feeling. He didn't look like me, but he was a newborn. It was something else - an emptiness perhaps. When I was alone at night in my trailer, I'd think about who Matthew did look like. I had to tamp those thoughts down for my own sanity.

We ordered from the catering menu. She must have been starved after her scene with Dak, but I didn't think I could keep much down, so I ordered an Italian sandwich and some pasta salad. Maria didn't say much on our way back to the hotel. She was clearly deep in thought.

"Honey," she started, "should we call the realtor and withdraw the offer in Malibu Heights? We have no idea how this is going to affect our immediate future."

On the surface that may have seemed a considerate thing to ask. But I knew Maria well enough to know she was also being selfish. She was a product of her own upbringing after all. I simply responded with a "maybe."

At least she could tell I had plenty on my mind and let it lie. Back at the hotel, I went for a quick shower, while Maria headed to the lobby Starbuck's. My next surprise of the day occurred when I sat down to eat my delivered sandwich, and opened the sealed script.

The caramel Macchiato I was holding hit the opposite wall, sending its hot gooey contents all over the ivory white upholstery of the expensive chairs directly below. The sandwich, while tasty, wasn't wrapped too tight, and began disintegrating even as it left my extended hand. Various cold cuts, shredded lettuce and cheese covered the distance towards an unachievable target. Maria recoiled and stared in shock.

"Should I even bother opening mine?" she asked with a great deal of trepidation. She never got an answer as my phone was out and I was hitting up Sal on speed dial.

"Sal," I yelled in duress, "What the fuck is this?"

"Settle down Chase," he responded as if expecting my call. "It's exactly what it looks like. And before you go into a tirade, you need to understand, I did it for you - part of it, anyway. That won't be clear tomorrow, or in the days that follow, but I guarantee you'll see it in your immediate future, and you'll be calling to thank me. So don't fuck it up by losing your shit on this call."

"What does that even mean?" I asked, resigned that Sal had laid it out, preempting me as usual.

"I can't say," Sal said in a quieter voice. "Not right now. You just have to trust me. I've got your best interest at heart here. And not because I'm your white knight either. You're a natural, and I'm already looking to the next project we'll be involved in together. Now, settle down, eat something and read those lines so you can nail them tomorrow like your life depended on it. In some ways, it does."

Sal hung up, and Maria was next to me in an instant. I'd like to say, she was there to comfort me, but I still had the script in hand and she was eagerly trying to read it. About four paragraphs in, she saw the words that had prompted my call, and her face went ashen.

"What did he say?" she asked tentatively.

"He said live with it." I snarled. "What a fucking oxymoron! You better open yours."

Maria did, and if the mood was somber before that point, we were in uncharted waters after. The final scenes originally scripted and billed as a duel of sorts between John and Sven, for Lara's heart, had done a one-eighty.

Lara tells Sven that the baby is his, but then one of the lesser female characters who has eyes for John, overhears and rats out the pair of adulterers. John confronts Sven, out of anger, but not in a very prepared way, and gets pummeled by the bigger and stronger paramour. The final scene had John crying and whining about his unfaithful wife, sitting atop the highest point of the island, just before he leaps, taking his own life. My character was basically emasculated and my only option was to take it. Then I had to act it with stunning precision. I had a feeling my heart wasn't going to be in it.

As I began to come to terms with the next twenty-four hours, I started studying my wife a bit. I realized she was behaving oddly. She had been behaving oddly, through a range of emotions all day.

"What's up, Maria?" I asked - a bit miffed. "Lara seems to come out of things a lot better off than John."

Maria looked up and gave a wan smile. "I don't know, Chase." She answered reflectively, "I think the whole thing sucks. Who the hell writes this shit anyway? I don't think any of the characters come out of this in a good light. A bunch of stranded self-centered narcissists and a dead main character."

Maria had a knack for stating the obvious. Was she worried about her career or mine? I wasn't sure it was either, by the range of emotions crossing her distraught but pretty face.

"I don't see anything in here where Lara jumps off a cliff, or sacrifices her cheating ass to the volcano gods, or any of that shit," I told her sarcastically.

"Why would she?" Maria asked, seemingly mystified. "She made a mistake. Her penance will be her dead husband. But the viewers never get to see that, so it's empty and hallow."

"Fuck that!" I replied incredulously. "She's fucking Sven and then has his baby."

"No, Chase," she said sadly, softly. "You know the script has always claimed they only had sex once. She regrets it and was supposed to go into season three begging John's forgiveness. Here, after Lara finds out that her conversation with Sven was conveyed to John, she goes looking for him to explain, but it's too late."

"Sure." That was my eloquent reply. Maria knew by my moody answer it was best to drop things there. We both sat together in the same room, but we were as separated as a couple could be that night, lost in our own thoughts and studying our new lines.

Maria ran her hands over my chest seductively after we got settled in bed. She had a way about her, of settling me down with slow loving sex, or a quick romp. The day had taken a toll on me though, and "Remington Steele," as we called him, was not up to the task that night.

"C'mon baby," Maria whispered to me. "Momma's still all worked up from earlier. Wanna reclaim me?"

And just like that, Mr. Steele had taken the Concorde to Heathrow. For as smart of a woman as I considered Maria, and assuming it was an attempt at humor, she was sure lacking brainpower when it came to her hubby's masculinity and pride.

"Sorry, babe," I told her feigning compassion. "You can give it a whirl, but I doubt he's willing to comply."

She did try - for about two point five minutes. Then she shrugged and rolled over, expecting me to snuggle her back, I suppose. I certainly wasn't well rested or at my best the following morning.

Maria was also out of sorts. She usually had her ways of getting me out of a funk, but she was failing these past few days. She looked... was that empathy - or concern? She tried for small talk on the ride from the hotel to the set. I gave one-word answers. On the way over to make-up, she went with a Hail Mary.

"Chase," she began, in a soothing voice. "Just do your best today, honey. We'll get past this. In a month, you'll be signing a new contract, and this silly little show will be in the rear-view. Let's finish and go home and be with our baby."