Page 13 of The Producer: Aaron

Of course, Serena is impulsive, always over the top, but she is not stupid. Maybe if I had asked her to keep the secret, she would have understood and done it in the name of our friendship. In this way, I didn’t give her a choice. I didn’t trust her. What kind of friend am I if I can’t even trust her?

“Sorry. I was embarrassed and didn’t know how to tell you.” Itell her a half-lie.

Serena surprises me with a hug. “It doesn’t matter, don’t worry. I forgive you, as long as you let me use that pool when your boss is not there just once.”

If Aaron isn’t at home, he doesn’t know if I’ve invited a friend, right? “Okay.”

She kisses me on the cheek and stands up. “Now I’m going because Roland will need to be comforted after you dumped him for the millionth time.”

At the same speed she appeared, she also disappears and the air seems almost lighter now that it’s just Sarah and me.

“You know you got this part because you’re a better actress than her, don’t you? You didn’t steal anything from her,” Sarah tells me as she continues to dab my forehead to redo the makeup that sweat has ruined.

I look down at my battered feet because I don’t know how to answer. Maybe she’s right, but maybe Serena just flunked that audition and she’s better than me. The fact that she decided to be my friend, the only one I’ve had since I moved here, despite everything, doesn’t mitigate my guilt. In fact, seeing her struggle every day with auditions that fail one after the other makes me feel like a bad friend.

***

When the driver opens the door, I leave the car and rest my bare feet on the hot concrete. When I finally took off my boots after filming, I tried to put my regular shoes back on, but my feet were so swollen and sore that I couldn’t fit them in. I wave goodbye to the driver and offer a half-smile, and head toward the front door, trying to avoid stepping on the white marble with the bloody part of my foot. I limp upstairs until I close the bedroomdoor behind me and collapse on the bed. The only thing I dream of right now is a shower and a good night’s sleep until five tomorrow morning. It shouldn’t be difficult as the darkness and silence of this house is more like a grave when Aaron isn’t here. I wonder if that man lives under this roof or if this house is just a façade for his image.

The vibration of my cell phone pulls an exasperated moan from my throat. I would like to pretend not to have heard it, but if it is my mother and I don’t respond right away, she overwhelms me with phone calls.

Serena: I’m at your house. Let me in, so I can use your pool! I know Aaron is still in the office. I have my sources.

I let out an exasperated sigh. I guess it’s no coincidence that she showed up not even five minutes after I entered the house. She was waiting for me, and this attitude bothers me a bit.

Dakota: I want to go to sleep. Tomorrow morning I have to get up at five, can we do this another time?

Maybe she feels pity for me and decides to go home.

Serena: If you don’t open immediately, I will ring the bell until five tomorrow morning. You have time when you’re old to sleep.

I grab the pillow and let out an exasperated scream, then get up, put my battered feet into a pair of flip-flops and use the app that controls the doorbell cameras to open the main gate as I go down to the front entrance. When I open the door, my surprise soon turns into horror when I see about thirty people behind Serena. Some with crates of beer in hand, others with bottles of wine, most of them already drunk.

My friend makes her way into the house, and when I grab herwrist to make her turn, we are pushed by the people who make their way into the living room, laughing, joking, and admiring the mansion. They are all about our age, but I don’t know any of them. When I go out with her, it’s usually just the two of us. I had no idea she had so many friends. Some of them glimpse the pool, open the doors to the patio, and with a run, throw themselves into the water, splashing everywhere. The horror painted on my face must be evident because my friend bursts out laughing.

“You can’t stay here. If Aaron comes back, he’ll kill me.”

The anger I feel inside is so intense it makes me tremble. How can she think I would agree with such a thing? And to think today I felt guilty for not telling her I lived here.

“Relax. Aaron is not here, and we’ll leave before he gets home. We’ll just use the pool for a little bit.” Her bored attitude makes me simmer with anger.

“You don’t understand. I don’t want you in here. It’s a matter of respect for the person who hosts me and doesn’t want people in the house,” I shout indignantly and immediately regret it when I see the grim expression transform her face.

“Of course, because Aaron deserves respect. While I, your best friend for the last three years, even though you stole my job, don’t deserve anything, do I? Since when have you become so snobbish that you prefer powerful people to friends who have been next to you since you were nobody? Just because you’ve become famous and have a verified profile on Instagram, you think you’re better than us.” The pain that shines through her words strikes me in the chest.

I haven’t forgotten about her, only she can’t understand that I can’t do certain things anymore. Aaron is my boss, not a friend or roommate. He is the one who holds my future, and I can lose my job. The same job I stole from her.

“It’s not like that, but you’re getting me into trouble.” My voice comes out with little conviction. “Aaron wouldn’t understand.”

“Wouldn’t understand what? That we are just having fun? Or maybe we’re not up to his majesty Aaron Steel and his faithful kiss-ass Dakota. Are we too gross for your standards?”

Yes, that’s precisely why. Aaron and his tailored pants, ties with the perfect knot, and million-dollar paintings would not understand. They are disrespectful kids infesting his pool, stepping on the white marble of his living room with muddy shoes, and draining his reserve of fine spirits by drinking straight from the bottles. The contrast between Aaron’s class and the vulgarity of the people here is so jarring it makes my skin crawl, and for the first time in my life, I feel embarrassed because of the friendships I have chosen. But I can’t tell her this because she’s my only friend in the viper den that is Hollywood.

“No! Aaron would not understand because he is an old dude who doesn’t know how to have fun. Have you seen him? He looks like a mummy inside those tailored clothes. It’s a miracle he doesn’t sleep in a sarcophagus.” Every word that comes from my lips disgusts me because I don’t mean them, but the smile that returns on my friend’s lips makes me feel better.

“Serena, are you coming? Apparently, Dakota has forgotten how to have fun.” Roland’s voice makes me turn toward him.

I am surprised to see him here, and, above all, I am surprised not to find his usual sweet smile on his lips. He seems almost disgusted by my presence, and how he looks at me makes me uncomfortable. It contrasts sharply with the shy and awkward guy who has been following me on the set like a shadow for a few months now. I watch them as they move away and join their friends in the pool, and the distress growing inside me makes me tremble. How the hell do I get rid of them? Do I make a scene?Considering they are already drunk, I don’t know how much I will be able to make myself heard.

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