Premiere (12 page)

“Helen wants to pull the plug on our show,”
Paige tells me after about an hour-long conversation. “Rather, she wants to pull the plug on me.”

“Oh.” I’m telling myself not to get mad. This is not as much about me right now as it is about Paige. After all, this was her dream, not mine. I was just coming along for the ride—the rollercoaster ride. Right now, I’m here to support her…no matter how culpable she is.

“I don’t know what to do, Erin.” Paige looks at me with a tear-streaked face and puffy eyes. No longer quite as picture-perfect as usual. Not that this makes me happy—I may have my little streaks of jealousy, but I would much rather see my sister happy and beautiful than miserable and looking like this.

“I wish I could stick around and see how this ends,” Mollie says as she reaches for her jacket, “but I have to get to class. Good luck, Paige,” she says softly.

“Thanks.” Paige shakes her head.

“So Helen was really mad?”

“Oh…yeah. The producer of
Malibu Beach
called her and accused her of trying to undermine their show in order to promote ours.”

“That is so ridiculous.”

“I told her that. But she said that in the cutthroat world of reality TV, anything is possible.”

“Meaning she thinks you did this on purpose?”

“I told her that we were trying to keep our relationship under wraps.”

“But, Paige, this is Hollywood, there is no such thing. And you know how connected Mia is. It probably took her five minutes to figure it out.”

“I know…and I feel stupid enough. You don’t have to rub it in.”

“Sorry, I just thought you knew what you were doing.” I study my downcast sister and wonder if there was possibly something Freudian about this. Maybe she really didn’t want to have her own show. Maybe this was just a handy escape route. And yet…that just doesn’t seem like her to me. No, I think it was just a dumb mistake.

“At least you weren’t at a club,” I point out, “drinking and dancing and acting like Lindsay Lohan.”

“Helen actually said that exact thing.”

“That’s something.”

“Unfortunately, it’s not enough.” Paige looks at me with fresh tears filling her eyes. “I wanted this show so bad, Erin. I can’t believe I blew it like this. I really do like Benjamin. And it seemed perfectly safe. We were being so careful and only going to places where paparazzi have never been seen before. And honestly, I never saw anyone with a camera.”

“But, Paige,” I tell her, “
think
about it. All it takes is one
person to snap a quick photo on a phone and it’s all over. You don’t need paparazzi.”

“That’s true. And if there were do-overs, I’d go back and do this whole thing differently. I would tell Benjamin that we had to wait.”

“That’s reassuring…not that it helps much now.” The landline phone rings again. I check to see that it’s Mom and figure she must’ve heard the news. “Hi, Mom,” I say in a flat voice.

“Oh, dear,” she says quickly, “how is Paige?”

“Falling apart.”

“Have you heard from the studio?”

“Sounds like Helen’s pulling the plug on the show.” I glance at Paige, but she’s staring at the countertop again. “Or maybe she’s just pulling the plug on Paige and me.”

“This is too bad. I guess you were right after all, Erin.”

“I wish I’d been wrong.”

“Well, there’s not much we can do about this. But I’m glad you’re there with your sister. Give her a hug for me.”

“Okay.” Then we say good-bye and hang up.

“What am I going to do?” Paige says. I can’t tell if she’s talking to me or herself, but she says it over and over…and I have no response.

Eventually, I go to my room. Although I feel sorry for Paige, I also can’t get past the fact that she brought this on herself, and she brought it onto me too. Finally, I realize the only positive action I can take at the moment is to pray. I text Blake, who is probably in class now, asking him to pray too.

It’s hard to know how to pray. I mean, I honestly feel like my sister made a wrong and selfish choice and the pain and suffering she’s experiencing as a result only seems fair. Of course,
I wouldn’t say that to her. That’d be kind of like kicking someone who’d fallen down. But as I try to pray, I’m confused. I’m so frustrated that I actually get down on my knees—and I don’t usually do that to pray. I ask God to help me to pray and to help me not to judge my sister, and then I remember a Bible verse about how God can take something bad and turn it into something good. So I ask him to use this mess to get Paige’s attention and to hopefully teach her something.

“What are you doing?”

I look up from where I’m still kneeling by the bed. “Huh?”

“What are you doing?” Paige asks again.

“Praying.” I bow my head and silently say, “amen,” and then stand.

“Do you think it really works?”

“Prayer?” I’m thinking this could turn into a good conversation if I don’t blow it by getting all defensive. I silently ask God to help me.

“Yeah. Does God really listen or is it just to make you feel better?”

“I think maybe both. But, yes, I do think God listens.”

“Huh. I mean, I do believe in God. But I haven’t prayed since I was a little kid. Honestly, I don’t see how praying can change anything.”

“Maybe you should give it another try.”

“What were you praying for?”

I consider my answer. “Well…mostly for you. I was asking God to bring something good out of this whole mess.”

She sits on my bed. “Like that’s even possible.”

“All things are possible with God.”

She just sits there staring at her hands lying limply in her lap.

I wish I could think of something encouraging or positive to say to her, but I am completely blank now.

“I wish I could believe that, Erin.”

“What?”

“What you just said…all things are possible with God. I wish I had that kind of faith…like you do.”

“Then you should ask God to give it to you. If you ask God for faith, he’ll give it to you.”

“Just like that? He’ll just give it to me?”

I’m trying to remember how the Bible verse goes that describes this. “The Bible explains it like this,” I begin slowly. “It’s like if you were a kid and you were hungry and you asked your parents for food, they wouldn’t give you a rock to eat. Right?”

“Right.”

“It’s like that with God too. If you ask him for faith, he’s not going to give you like, say, a toothache instead. At least I don’t think so. But I also think you have to mean it when you ask. You probably can’t just flippantly ask him, like you’re testing to see if he’ll really do it. I think you need to be sincere.”

She nods real slowly, like she’s trying to wrap her head around this. I’m feeling hopeful, like maybe God really is at work here, bringing something good out of something bad. Because, honestly, I can’t remember a time when Paige really listened to me talk about God.

“I am sorry for what I did…for getting involved with Benjamin…for hurting Mia like that. I know it was wrong now, and I remember how you tried to warn me…but…”

I press my lips together and wait for her to continue.

“I wish I’d listened to you, Erin. I wish I’d done it differently.”

“I guess this might be one of those school of hard knocks lessons, huh?”

“I guess…”

Just then the phone rings, the landline again. “Should I answer it?” I ask Paige, but she shrugs. I go and get it.

“Erin, this is Helen Hudson.”

“Do you want Paige?”

“No, I’d rather to talk to you first. You’re the girl who seems to have her head on her shoulders.”

“Uh, okay.”

“We might be getting a second chance with
Malibu Beach.
”

“A second chance?”

“To straighten things up. Well, actually it’s more about messing things up, but I don’t need to go into all that right now. But here’s what we’re thinking. If you and Paige could go over to where they’re filming this afternoon and if Paige and Mia could, well, talk things over with the cameras running, perhaps we can work this out in a way that makes everyone happy.”

“Is Mia even willing to do that?”

“Apparently, she is.”

I have images of Mia and her friends jumping my sister and beating the living daylights out of her. Okay, I might be too imaginative, but I saw that on YouTube once and it was seriously messed up. “What if Mia wants to hurt Paige?”

“I’m sure Mia
does
want to hurt Paige. And Paige has certainly hurt Mia, don’t you think?”

“Yes. But I mean physically. What if Mia and her friends beat Paige up while the cameras roll?”

“Oh, I seriously doubt that Rod would allow that.”

“He might if he thought the fans would love it.”

She chuckles. “I’m sure the fans
would
love it.”

“So, how can you be sure it wouldn’t happen?”

“I’m relatively certain, Erin.” She gives me an exasperated sigh like this should all be very obvious. “And yes, I’m sure they will make her uncomfortable. But in all fairness, Paige should have to suffer a bit, don’t you think?”

“She’s already suffering.”

“Privately maybe. But not in the public eye. She might need to do a little suffering that everyone can see.”

“Yes…I can understand that.” I’m starting to feel like I’m Paige’s advocate now, negotiating a deal or a settlement or something. Like, okay, we’ll agree to one fistful of hair in exchange for publicity immunity. “But I just want to know that no one will get physically hurt. Is there a way you can guarantee that?”

“I suppose that could be arranged.”

“In that case, I think I can talk Paige into doing this. But I have one condition.”

“Have you ever considered becoming an agent, Erin?” She chuckles again. “I think you’d be good at it.”

“Maybe we need an agent,” I tell her.

“Or an attorney if Paige doesn’t watch out. So, tell me, what one condition?”

“I want my mom there when they’re filming.”

“You are a smart little cookie, aren’t you?”

“I try.”

“Fine then. Let me call the powers that be and see what we can agree to. In the meantime, you go tell that sister of yours what’s up, okay?”

“Okay.”

“And I have to say, Erin, that if we proceed with
On the Runway
—and that’s still a big if—but if we continue as
planned with Paige Forrester at the helm, I want you
by her side
, do you understand?”

“Meaning I’m supposed to keep her out of trouble? Because seriously, I’m not sure that’s possible.”

“Yes…yes…I know you’re not her conscience, Erin, but if I start calling you Jiminy Cricket, don’t be too surprised.”

“Right.”

“Good-bye, Jiminy.” And she hangs up.

I return to my bedroom to find Paige still sitting on my bed with a dazed expression. So I tell her about this latest invitation.

“But Mia will probably want to kill me.”

“I’m sure she will. And I told Helen that we need some assurance that you won’t be physically assaulted like those videos on YouTube where a girl is accosted by a bunch of her so-called friends.”

“Oh, wouldn’t the
Malibu Beach
fans love that. Mia and Benjamin are like the dream couple, and I’m like the wicked witch who broke them up. I’m sure the fans would love to see me beat beyond recognition.”

“Just the seriously disturbed ones. So anyway, Helen is going to talk to
Malibu
’s director and get back to us. Also, I told Helen that if we do this, Mom has to be on the set too.”

“Great idea, Erin.” Paige gives me a wimpy high five. “So, if we do this, does that mean we get our show back?”

“Helen’s not making any promises. I suspect it will have to do with how this thing at
Malibu Beach
plays out.”

“Right…” Paige stands and she begins pacing as if she’s thinking really hard, as if she’s plotting some clever way to turn this whole thing in her favor and come out on top. Although I’m pretty sure that’s impossible.

It’s after two when Helen calls back. The news is that
Malibu Beach
wants us at their location, Mia’s house, at four o’clock sharp. I write down the address as she continues. “Filming begins as soon as Paige and you walk into the house. Your mother will arrive earlier so that they can tuck her out of sight of the cameras. And she is not to intervene unless there is actual threat of physical violence, which Rod assures me will not happen.”

“Okay. I’ll have to call my mom and make sure she can do this.”

“I already took that liberty. She will be there.”

“Good.” And it’s not that I don’t trust Helen, but I also make note to double-check that Mom is actually in the loop.

“There won’t be time for you to come to the studio for wardrobe, but I’m sure Paige can figure something out. Remember this scene is almost absolutely certain to air. What happens today will either make or break Paige Forrester. But she is on her own. Understand?”

“On her own, except that I’m with her, you mean?”

“Yes. You’re both on your own. Make me proud…or walk. You got that?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m not holding my breath. Good-bye, Jiminy.” And, again, she hangs up before I can even say good-bye. I’m not holding my breath either. In fact, I take in a deep one as I mentally prepare myself for four o’clock.

Paige throws us into high gear, picking outfits, doing hair, makeup, and the whole time it’s hard to believe this is the same girl who fell apart earlier. As she’s helping with my makeup I ask if she’s heard from Benjamin since this all hit the fan.

“No…” she says slowly as she applies eyeliner, something I never can seem to get quite right.

“Nothing at all?” I want to ask her whether or not she thinks that’s odd, considering that Benjamin is also a vital part of this whole cheaters scandal. I mean, it does take two.

“Well he texted me…”

“And?”

“And he’s been advised not to speak to me…for the sake of his show and his reputation.”

“Oh.” I vaguely wonder if this might not actually be some kind of cleverly crafted setup. Like maybe they were just using Paige as part of the love triangle to get some great publicity. But I don’t want to derail Paige, or shake her confidence, by mentioning it.