Scarlet Starlet

I stared at the cupcake on the table, thinking that it looked close to perfect with its white sponge cake base and the sticky chocolate cover in swirls. All I wanted was to devour it like I had already done with its brothers and sisters, but what would that do to my already aching stomach?

My finger involuntarily twitched in the direction of the pastry and I felt my mouth water. I was in no way hungry and my stomach was filled to the max with dough but still I felt the urge to chew on the last cupcake. The four other ones I had bought were all gone and the only survivor kept looking at me with irresistible sugary eyes.

“Mr. Cupcake,” I mumbled while nudging the smooth brown icing with the tip of my index finger, “You're my most treasured sin.”

I remembered how easy things had been when I was younger. Ten years ago the worst form of sinning had been wearing a skirt with no big pockets on the front to stuff pretty rocks in, but sadly those carefree times were over. Now one could sin in so many different ways and the consequence would always be something which helped defying one's entire life. In my position one of the biggest sins was to ingest carbs. Many Hollywood actresses would rather have their hair chopped off than to be seen with pasta dangling from their mouths.

I stuck my tongue out and brought my finger with the icing to it, closing my eyes as sweetness invaded my senses. A signal raced from my brain and traveled to my hand to make it move towards the cupcake.

Fast-forwarding five minutes, the only things proving the kidnapping of the cupcake were the dusty pink wrapper on the tabletop and crumbs around my mouth.

It always felt good to munch on treats, but with the five cupcakes churning in my stomach I felt everything but good. Next week I was supposed to stand in front of a camera half-naked because Teens Now needed someone for their swimsuit-spread, and my manager thought it was a fabulous idea. To have a little bit of flab was fine, but the camera has a tendency of adding on quite a few pounds. I had a feeling that the pictures wouldn't be so flattering without the help of Mr. Retouch – and I really didn't want the magazine to virtually re-sculpt my body which they definitely would in my current condition.

Retouching is the key to a good picture among celebrities in magazines, but what does that tell Teens Now's young readers? They would be surprised to see how many of their 'flawless' idols who had bags under their eyes and spots on their faces. Most of the celebrities were in fact natural beauties, but many of them got a major boost from makeup and airbrush tools in 'Photoshop' – and I was one of them.

I ate when I was nervous, sad, lonely and hungry. My body didn't look like it used to look and I grew in places I had never had issues with before. Growing up, I was just skin and bones with a big wobbly head placed on the neck. My number one joy in life had been to tease boys and then climb the branches of the local playgrounds' old oak when they started to chase me. I used to stick my tongue out from where I was sitting in the tree and provoke the poor little boys to madness.

Then I grew up and stopped climbing trees. Boys, hair and school started becoming more important and I discovered the comforting qualities in chocolate. Whenever one of my, very secret, crushes started going out with another girl, sweets were there to help me.
As I reached puberty I realized that food with many calories meant instant comfort and long-term angst. The human mind often reaches for the instant rewards and my willpower wasn't strong enough to overlook the quick feelings of comfort and see into the future.

Deep down I knew that I had eaten the cupcakes because I felt lonely and nervous, but I hadn't wanted to deal with the feelings and suppressed them instead.

I missed my parents and our homey house back in Alaska. Before moving to Hollywood to pursue my dream of becoming an actress I had never been away from my family for more than a day. Now it had been weeks since I last saw them and days since we last spoke. They had a hard time coping with my new lifestyle and wasn't fond of the fancy things which went with it at all. My family preferred the simple life and would rather ride horses than limousines.

I didn't have any friends in Hollywood other than Leila and Lilian, but I'll use the word 'friend' loosely around the two of them.

It seemed like no one approached me because they found genuine interest in my persona; they just wanted to get a piece of my fame. I was always on edge when meeting new people. What did they want from me? They could just as well be investigating me to find juicy details to gossip about to the media.

Ziggy was a different story, though. I couldn't place him in a certain department and didn't know the motives behind his sudden interest in me. He was probably not looking for fame since he was a whole lot more famous than me in the first place, but I couldn't know anything with certainty.

I still had his phone number scribbled down on a tissue. The numbers on it had faded and smudged since the tissue had been scrunched up in my sweaty palm for a long time. I had never let go of it, not even when I went to bed.

Ziggy had said that he wanted to take me out tonight, but I didn't know if that was what I wanted. He seemed like a very nice guy but I didn't want to risk falling in love with someone who positively would break my heart. On the other hand I felt very lonely in my big and empty house and I didn't know for sure if Ziggy meant the dinner as a date or a friendly meal.

After having had a heated argument with myself concerning the matter, I decided to call him.

My fingers fumbled as I pressed a couple of buttons of my cellphone and started typing the numbers. I then pressed the green button and put the small device to my ear. My heart was thumping maniacally as the first signal echoed. Then the second. And the third.

When the fifth 'beep' sounded and I was starting to lose hope, something clicked on the other side of the line. “Yeah, hello? This is Ziggy Sullivan speaking.”

“Hi, this is Troya!”

I was at first met by seconds of silence from Ziggy mixed with disturbance noises from the phone.

“... How did you get my number? I don't know anyone with that name.” His voice was stern.

My heart dropped. Didn't he remember me at all? It was quite odd. Well, I could probably forget about the dinner and set my mind on spending the night alone in front of the buzzing TV. “Troya Wright, you gave me your number yesterday?”

Then laughter filled my ears. “You silly thing! Of course I know who you are! Sorry for that, I was just pulling your leg.”

A brief laugh escaped me as well and a bit of my tension vanished. “That was so mean, Ziggy!”

“Sorry,” he said and I could envision him grinning and being very content with himself, “So, why are you honoring me with a call? Do you want to accept my dinner-invitation?”

“Actually, yes. I've checked my schedule and I'm free tonight,” I said, “It would be fun to discuss acting and fame with someone who has experience in the industry.”

Ziggy Sullivan was only a couple years older than me, twenty-one to be precise, but he was born in the limelight. When I was growing up he had already been a hot potato as he reached stardom in a very early age. Back then he had had a very innocent image, but with time and his growing desire for women; Ziggy became a notorious womanizer. I had never seen him together with one girl for more than two months before he switched to someone new.

“Sure, I can give you a few tips and tricks to keep yourself floating around here,” he said with his dark voice.

It pleased me that he didn't speak like we were going on a date and I felt more confident. Going out to dinner as friends would be fun and I looked forward to it.

“We should go to the old Fisherman's restaurant, if you know where it is?” I suggested with a smile glued to my lips.

“I'll pick you up at seven and you can show me where it is.”

“But, you don't know where I live! Or, do you?” I raised my eyebrows.

Ziggy laughed. “Send me a text with your address and my GPS will do the Troya-stalking for me.”

“Oh, sure! See you later then!” I said and then we finished the call.

I really looked forward to befriending Ziggy Sullivan and I took it as a challenge not to fall for his charm. I refused to be a number on his never-ending list of conquers, but I could be a loyal and trustworthy friend. Maybe that was what he really needed and took the other girls as a supplement for it?

Time passed slowly and it seemed like hours became long as days as I was waiting for the time to strike seven. I wore little makeup, since I haven't mastered that skill, and a pair of blue jeans paired with a plaid shirt. I was hoping that Ziggy wouldn't show up wearing a tuxedo or something fancy like that. Then I would look very misplaced next to the handsome actor.

Finally, I saw a car rolling up and stopping outside my house. I stepped into a pair of flats and ran out the door to get the evening started.

I flung the door to Ziggy's big truck-like car open and hopped into it, placing myself firmly in the passenger's seat.

“Someone's in a rush,” Ziggy stated with a grin. I was relieved to see that he was wearing a plain shirt and a pair of dark jeans.

I brushed a couple of strand of hair out of my face and inhaled slowly. I'm not an athletic girl and the short run from the front door to the car had taken its toll. I had to compose myself as Ziggy started the roaring engine before speaking.

“I'm starving,” I lied. One could not possibly be hungry after having eaten five large cupcakes a few hours earlier. I was simply just eager to have some company to break the tormenting loneliness.

“It's nice to meet a girl around here who actually eats,” Ziggy admitted, having his eyes set on the road, “I also have to add that you look stunning today.”

I suddenly felt cold as his charming words hit me. That didn't sound like something one with friendly motives would say at all. That sounded like date-talk.