Accidentally Famous

It’s overly warm wrapped in my covers when I wake up the next afternoon. I’m on the verge of sweating, but I’m also the most comfortable I’ve ever felt.

I’m wrapped around Nat like a vine, with my leg between his and my head still on his chest. His arm hangs over the side of the bed, and mine follows. He’s snoring softly; my head rises and falls with every breath.

I don’t move until he does, and he sleeps for what feels like fifteen or twenty minutes more before his snoring is cut off by a gasp, and his whole body twitches.

“Oh, shit,” he whispers, and settles back down. We lay still for a little while more. He doesn’t know that I’m awake yet. I close my eyes and enjoy this for a second. I know I’ll have calls from my parents, from Ciara, from a lot of people I don’t want to speak with yet.

He brings his arm back onto the bed and I watch it as it moves towards me. I close my eyes when his fingers touch my hair, pushing it out of my face so gently that it wouldn’t wake me if I was asleep.

“Good afternoon,” I whisper, just guessing, and he pulls his hand away. His phone is on the nightstand. It reads 1:00 PM.

“Nine hours,” he says. “Damn.”

I heave myself off of him and sit up. I’m sure I’m a hot mess, but I feel relaxed and refreshed. “I haven’t slept for nine hours since… I can’t remember,” I say, and we laugh together. His hair is pointing every which way and there are circles under his eyes. We both need a shower, and my stomach is growling.

“Are you hungry?” I ask.

“Yes,” he replies, his eyes going wide. “Definitely.”

In the kitchen, I get out a box of cereal, two bowls, two spoons, and a carton of milk, and we sit across from each other at the island. My phone buzzes between us as we silently eat. Every so often, we look up from our bowls and share a smile. There’s something here.

It’s Ciara calling, and I answer.

“Did you just wake up?” she asks.

“Yes,” I reply with my mouth full.

“God! I came over at ten and you were asleep and… not alone.”

I look up at Nat and smile again. “Nat Wolff spent the night.”

“Who?”

“Nat Wolff. We met yesterday.”

“And he spent the night?”

“Oh relax. He’s still here now. We’re eating breakfast. Or, lunch, I guess.”

“Did you fuck him?”

I know he can hear. He smirks into his cheerios.

“Nope.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Then why did he spend the night?”

“I asked him to.”

“Why?”

“I like him.”

“I’m coming over in an hour, okay?”

“Okay,” I say, and hang up. I have three missed calls from my mother and an e-mail from my PR rep, Alicia, and another from my manager, Tony. Alicia wants to have a casual meeting over lunch tomorrow, Tony wants to book me for a few appearances and a magazine spread. I coordinate them both for lunch at one tomorrow.

When he’s finished eating, I put Nat’s bowl in the dish washer along with mine and put our food away.

“Well, what a night,” I say as I turn around.

“Indeed. I better go, actually. We’ve got a show this weekend and Alex and I need to rehearse today.”

“I’ve held you prisoner long enough,” I reply with a grin as we make our way towards the door. “Uh, thanks again. I know that was weird.”

He shrugs. “Sure, but that’s okay. Not exactly how I wanted our first date to go, but I can’t complain.”

I feel a blush coming on, and I try to suppress it. “That was not our first date. That doesn’t count. That was insanity.”

He presses a warm kiss to my cheek, and lingers there to whisper, “It counts. I’ll call you later.”

I shut the door behind him and run up to get into the shower. I try not to think of my parents, of their divorce, of my mother’s haunting words. It isn’t hard, because now Nat is this huge thing at the forefront of my mind.

How do I feel about him? It’s all messed up in the fact that I was so distraught when I called him – why was it him that I called? I can’t really think of a good reason besides the way he was talking to Madison yesterday afternoon; how kind he was, how willing he was to answer all her questions and just how sweet he seemed. And then we had a great night. I know it’s weird to call it a great night, but I can’t remember enjoying talking to anyone ever as much as I enjoyed sitting on my back porch talking to Nat last night. I could’ve talked all night. I could still be out there talking to him now.

So I must like him, but I decide to wait and make up my mind later. I get out of the shower and ready myself in a simple outfit of a skirt and a tank top, and find Ciara waiting for me in the living room.

“Did you really not have sex with that boy who stayed over last night?” she asks immediately, staring at me in disbelief. I grin at her.

“I really didn’t.” Ciara doesn’t know, and probably no one suspects, that I’ve never slept with anyone. I’m not interested in casual sex; it seems dangerous and damaging to me. If you can handle that sort of thing, I say go for it. I just don’t think it’s good for me.

“What the hell did you do?”

“Um… well, I guess I was kind of bored, and I called Madison and Morgan and neither of them were available, so I thought hey, why not Nat Wolff?”

She rolls her eyes. “And then?”

“We sat on the back porch and talked until like, four in the morning. And then it was late and he was tired so I just told him to stay here.”

“In your bed with you?”

“Yes. We cuddled all night, if that’s the scandal you’re looking for, and he told me he considered it our first date when he left about an hour ago.”

Finally, she smiles at me. “Well, that’s actually pretty sweet. How do you… feel?”

“How is my heart doing?” I ask her, batting my eyelashes and laying my hands over my heart. She shoves my shoulder roughly, but we smile at each other. “I don’t know how I feel. He’s really nice, he’s really cute, I want to see him again. Probably soon.”

She’s practically jumping up and down, and I get it – this is actually pretty exciting, and it’s nice to be able to talk to her about something so I don’t explode with the news that Hollywood’s longest-loved couple is separating. Remembering that, I excuse myself to make a couple calls, and Ciara does the same. She wants to change my cleaning lady’s schedule and go over the talking points with my PR Rep and Manager for tomorrow’s lunch.

I have three missed calls from my mom, and I return them as I walk down to the beach.

“Oh, honey! I thought you were never going to call me back. Are you okay? How are you feeling?” she gushes the instant she picks up.

“Sorry, Mom. I’m… I was in shock last night.”

“I know, don’t apologize. Please, don’t ever apologize. I know this is so hard for you, and that you’re probably blindsided.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly… that’s fucking it, Mom. I never thought this would happen.”

She sighs, and I hear the pain in the sound. I realize that, while it’s understandable I’ve felt this way, I’ve been selfish. Maybe my mother really doesn’t want this divorce. Maybe she’s in this incredible pain and needs me.

“I’m sorry, my love,” she says.

“Mom, when I left last night you… what you said, is that true?”

“Yes. I hate that I said that to you. I don’t want this to turn into some thing where I try to twist you against your father. He’s been nothing but a wonderful father to you, and he loves you so much, and I’m so happy for that. But yes.”

“He’s seeing someone else?” I sit down in the sand suddenly.

“Yes.”

“For how long?”

“Just a couple of months now.”

“Did he…?”

“He never cheated on me.”

I don’t know whether I should be relieved at that or angry that they’ve been separated for more than a couple of months and never told me.

“Who?”

“Oh, honey, I don’t—“

“Who, Mom?” I interrupt her rudely.

She sighs again, this time in exasperation. It’s a welcome change from the sadness that’s been in her voice since she picked up the phone. “Carmilla Jane.”

I want to throw my phone into the ocean. “Mom, wasn’t she a fucking porn star before she started acting?”

“Yes.”

“And isn’t she like, three years older than me?”

“Yes.”

“This has got to be some sort of sick joke! You know that’s like, a massive stereotype, right? Are you kidding me? She can’t act for shit, Mom, she has no talent, and no substance. I’ve met her, Mom, and she’s invited me to every party she’s thrown in the past two years. Are you kidding me? That’s who Dad’s seeing? Are they serious about each other?”

She snorts. “Honey, no. It won’t last.”

That doesn’t comfort me. I still feel like hurling or at least hurling my phone into the ocean. I actually might throw up; my stomach is churning and my head is starting to ache like I have a hangover. At least, what I imagine a serious hang over feels like.

“Oh, Mom, I feel sick.”

“Petunia! C’mon, it’s going to be alright.”

“Are you still living with him?”

“No, he’s going to the apartment in New York until the movie releases.”

It isn’t that uncommon for my parents to be apart for long stretches of time, so I guess they figure no one will suspect something is amiss.

It makes me a little nervous how badly I want to hang up and call Nat. I roll my neck around and look to the right. My house is the last on this street before there is a set of rolling hills and some wooded areas – and there is where the paparazzi sometimes sit to catch glimpses of me behind my house. It’s hard to get up there and eventually they kind of realized I don’t do anything interesting. Sometimes when I have more famous friends or company over, there are more of them, but usually they don’t inhabit that area – not like when I first moved in two years ago. Right now, however, some excited photographers are watching me and snapping photos.

“Okay. I just need some time to like, think about this and… and I don’t want to talk to Dad for a while.” He may not have cheated on her, but he moved on pretty fast from the woman he’d been married to for over twenty years, and to absolutely the worst choice possible. I will not let go of my prejudice towards her.

“Honey, are you sure about that?”

“Yes. I don’t want anything to do with him now. You can tell him that or not, I don’t care. I’m mad at him, and I’m mad at you a little, too, for not telling me, but whatever. I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry this is happening. This fucking sucks.”

“This does fucking suck,” she replies, and I almost smile. My mother never swears. “I’m going to be staying in L.A. for a while.” I know she’s asking me not to shut her out, but I know I don’t need to tell her that I won’t.

“Okay, Mom. I’m gonna go.”

“I love you!”

“I love you, too.” I hang up and head into the house. As I walk, because I can’t tell anyone else about it, I text Nat.

My father is dating Camilla Jane. I’m going to throw up.

Ciara is back in the office making phone calls. I hear her instructing Tony and Alicia as to where and when exactly to meet me tomorrow, and a few extra things we should discuss that they maybe didn’t know about (pictures of me and Nat popping up, being the main thing, and I hate that I’ll have to discuss this brand new things with my ‘team’, as they call themselves).

Nat texts me back as I sit down on my couch.

I’m sorry, but that decision just doesn’t make sense to me. Your mom seems like an awesome woman.

I smile sadly as I reply. She is. I’m not talking to him. I haven’t told anyone else about this. That’s why I’m whining to you.

Restless, I get up and begin tidying up the kitchen. Looking through my spices, organizing them by color and then by letter, and finally back in the random order they were in before. I wipe down the counters and sweep the floor, then throw a few items in my fridge and cupboards out that are past their prime.

Nat replies. I won’t tell you again how little I mind – but it’s very fucking little. Can I take you out Saturday night? Dinner?

God Bless Nat Wolff. Yes. Please.

“What’re you doing?” Ciara asks when she enters the kitchen and sees me standing on a stool to get the dust off top of the fridge.

“Cleaning my house,” I reply. “Hey, Nat asked me out Saturday night. We’re going to dinner.”

“Oh! Where?”

“Not sure yet. Wherever. I’m also going out tomorrow night with Madison and some of her friends.”

She looks even more shocked at this news. “Is that so? Wow. It’s a whole new Greer King.”

I wink at her. “Watch out, World!”

She laughs at me before getting down to business. “Just so you’re prepared, Tony and Alicia both want to get you working a lot more often, and I told them I don’t think you’ll go for it, but they’re going to be pushing that hard tomorrow. Shoots more often, and they really want you to do runway shows. And a lot more high-profile appearances. Parties, events, you name it – they want you there. This is a big talk they’ve been gearing up for.”

I wave my hand dismissively. “No to all. No runway shows ever, they don’t treat those models right all the time and I can’t be part of that. No to being paid to attend parties, I don’t even like parties. I’ll eat at restaurants they like, go to openings and stuff, but no parties. I’ll do a few more campaigns here and there if they want, but that’s it.”

“Well, you have until tomorrow to think about it.”

My answer doesn’t change before then, and Alicia and Tony leave our luncheon the next day a little dissatisfied, probably wishing I was some doe-eyed girl new to fame, who had earned her way here with hard work and desire, who wanted to please them and get into the limelight – tough nuts. I head home a little annoyed, and a little upset at the three missed calls I have from my father spanning the past forty-eight hours. I want to talk to him, but I’m still furious and pretty firm in my decision to avoid him for a while.

Madison wants me at her house by nine, so after my Top Shop shoot, I head home and change into a pair of leather shorts and a white crop top and, leaving on the dramatic make up and hair they gave me this afternoon, head out.

There’s a massive party going on, but I think that’s the usual thing for Friday night. Madison lives with three other girls; two are models whom I’ve never worked with and don’t know, and one is an actress who hasn’t really made it yet, but I think she’s pretty talented and will go far. The party belongs to one of them. Madison and I leave with Jason, Madison’s on-again-off-again boyfriend and star of the hit teen-drama, Malicious, and his friend Shane, who I've met before and who I think is also on the show. I’ve only watched it when Madison has made me, and it’s pretty good, but I haven’t paid attention well enough to be sure.

It’s early, so we get a late dinner first. Shane wears on my nerves as the night wears on. He’s hit one me before – and not just once or twice. I think I’ve been around him half a dozen times, in Madison’s company only, and he’s never once not tried multiple times in the evening to ask me out or make a move.

He isn’t exactly threatening. He’s a pretty skinny guy; cute, but innocent enough, and there’s nothing malicious in his advances. It’s just pretty annoying, and by the time our two-hour-long dinner is over and we make it in the back entrance of this dark, neon club, I’m tired of it, and just plain tired. It’s been an exhausting few days, and I just want my bed.

Madison is a few drinks in (she can hold her liquor in the most amazing, unexpected way) and I’m still sipping on my first as one in the morning approaches. She excuses herself to the bathroom for the third time, and I follow – I need to tell her I’m going to head out pretty soon, and thank her for inviting me. It hasn’t been a bad evening, actually; the dancing is fun, letting loose is nice after the stress I’ve been under. I push open the door to the marble-draped bathroom. Somehow, it’s empty besides her even though this club is absolutely packed – how do people go to clubs and not sit in the less densely packed VIP section? (How disgusting is that question?) She’s in the first stall and I knock. It’s open, and it swings with my little tap.

Madison, my sweetest, kindest, most thoughtful friend is kneeling at the edge of the toilet and off its dirty surface, she scrapes an unmistakable white powder into a line and inhales it up her delicate nose.

It isn’t the first time I’ve seen something like this. Actors do drugs. Models do drugs. Musicians do drugs. Teachers do drugs. Janitors do drugs. It’s out there, and I’ve encountered it (probably more than your average teacher or janitor), but I’m so shocked that Madison is partaking in this, surely along with the two boys we’ve come with, that I turn and bolt.

You just can’t fucking trust anyone.