Confessions of a Backup Dancer (19 page)

luckily, my pager cut her off.

DUDE WHERE R U

DUDE WHERE R U

DUDE WHERE R U

etc. oh god not again. it's evan! it's 12:15, and he landed an hour ago. he's at the airport! luckily darcy keeps a navigator at this house, too. my brother needs a ride.

TUESDAY JULY 9

DARCY'S HOUSE

ORLANDO, 8:14
PM

Outfit:
vintage OP long-sleeve tee, cargo shorts, flip-flops. I'm like the original surfer today.

Hair:
shinier than ever. darcy and I soaked our hair in tea yesterday and lay out in the sun all afternoon. it really works! my calves got kinda sunburned though.

Mood:
stoked to see evan. Note use of “stoked,” a popular surfing expression. in fact, I'm in a good mood all around.

Evan was starving when we went to pick him up so we stopped off at hardee's drive thru, then dunkin' donuts. Then it was off to Disney World where we went through the VIP entrance for every ride.

we went on all the rides. it's amazing how, if you don't have to wait in line, you can really do all of them in a couple of hours.

evan and I got hardly three minutes alone the whole day to talk about mom. but he told me that she told him that she really wants to leave carl. that was right before she went to palm desert. I bet she's asking Aunt Linda for some money or if she and evan can stay there and if I know Aunt Linda she's saying no way you made this bed now you gotta sleep in it and then I can picture mom practically begging Aunt Linda and her still saying no.

and then I can picture mom totally bolting and giving up on the whole thing and crying in the car on the way home to san diego, alone.

damn I hate how money screws up everything. what am I going to do when this job is over?

THURSDAY JULY 21

RIHGA ROYAL HOTEL

NEW YORK CITY, 11:46
PM

Outfit:
Shiny black halter and faded jeans. Black boots.

Hair:
Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, Shaundree gave me this cocoa butter stuff that makes it so shiny. And it's back to light brown with blond streaks. she took a pic with her digital camera so I could email tito. he'll be so happy. but I digress.

Fortune:
Do what needs doing. Don't do what doesn't.

oh, to be back in Orlando, back when Darcy wasn't so high maintenance.

ok here's my story. we are in new york for the biggest show on the tour, the one we're filming for a pay-per-view concert. everyone's sort of been talking about it since the beginning of the tour but I've been kind of not thinking about it. for me, every show is a big scary monster to face down … the new york pay-per-view show is just a little bigger and a little scarier … ok, it's a lot scarier. because I know tito will be watching. not to mention my mother. not to mention the entire rest of the world.

and tonight the record company rented out this bar called Jaguar or Leopard or something and threw her a huge party tonight for selling a trillion copies or whatever. even though we knew we have a huge show coming up, the show, we partied pretty hard.

someone should tell darcy that she still can't legally drink. that would be fun. then again, she probably wouldn't pay much attention at the moment considering she's, well,
drunk
isn't really the word for it … Darcy barnes, the biggest star in the universe, the envy of teen girls everywhere and the x-rated daydream of teen boys everywhere is lying in the bathroom, wrapped around the toilet in a fetal position, refusing to stand up. or is it unable to stand up? … her head's wedged in kinda tight behind the plumbing back there. for all I know she could be immobilized. but maybe that's a good thing so she doesn't get in bed and puke
THERE
instead.

really attractive. very nice, for america's sweetheart.

it's amazing how, even in this position, she looks like she's posing. even in this position, her belly button is front and center. the girl can't even puke without her belly showing. did she PLAN that? hair crusted with vomit notwithstanding, she's camera ready.

Yup, crusted vomit. well, I guess that's what she gets for slamming down 4 slippery nipples in a half-hour at Deep, THE club this week in nyc. (yes, if you're a celeb, you *can* get a drink before age 21. in fact, if you even know a celeb, you can get a drink. how do you think I got my own slippery nipple? notice I said one. which I didn't even finish. not four.)

anyway, so yeah, darcy downed four slippery nipples before they even served the cake, yeah, *that* cake. it was a “photo-frosted” cake that was iced to supposedly
look like her face in the “Love You Like a Lollipop” video but instead it looked like courtney love meets marilyn manson.

anyway, there she was, drunk in a coochie-slit skirt and a deep-neck crop jacket (no shirt), bending over to blow out candles that weren't even there. she thought it was her birthday, I guess. either that or she'd WANTED to give the front of the room a boob show and the back of the room a butt show.

talk about your slippery nipples! and hello, I see London
and
France. Hell, from this angle I can see Lake Titicaca.

out of the corner of my eye I also caught jesus and armand engaged in a full-on tongue kiss.

luckily (I guess) no one really captured the critical moment for major worldwide circulation. at least, not that I saw. I mean, I guess seeing paris hilton's was enough for one summer and the paparazzi decided it was no longer a scoop. or maybe the paparazzi were too busy drooling to get their cameras focused in time. sickos. the girl is barely legal.

She's moaning in there. she just goes, “jesse, jesse.” Yeah I WISH jesse was in town right now. Then I wouldn't have to deal with this. you would have passed out on his watch, not mine. The thing is you never really know when he's going to be around and when he isn't. Guys.

Why isn't rashid here? He'd know what to do.

Should I go look and see how she's doing? Ugh. why
does this happen to me? ugh once again K.K. gets suckered into being darcy's best friend and watchdog. cause no one else will. (or no one else cares enough.)

especially not darla, who was busy the whole party, making out with some Man in Black in one of the back banquettes at the leopard or jaguar or whatever bar, and jesse had long since left with Outkast and Tara Reid, and rashid wasn't even there, so the only person there to rescue darcy from herself was you guessed it, moi. I had to get her out of there. I mean it's not like darcy can be seen staggering drunk from her big fancy industry party all alone, looking around for her car or something. I sucked it up and we ducked out, me smiling and darcy drooling. I tried my best to hold her up. she tripped on the curb, though, and at least one camera got her mid-fall. then she flipped off the assembled press from inside the car. I grabbed her hand to stop her.

It was a short ride back to the hotel, but she still managed to puke in the limo. make that on my boots. it was when this Pashmina song “Get Down on Me” came on the radio. I had to yell at the driver TURN THAT DOWN PLEASE but the damage had been done. she slurred Sssssshcrew Pashmina … ssshhhee can't sssssinnng … waitlllll my sssshow tomorrow night. you'lll seeeee. I'm going to sssssing way better than pa-pa-Pashmina.

we finally made it back up to my room, Darcy draped across my shoulders, but not before she got all wack on me in the elevator and started talking about how much she loves me and admires me and how much I'm her
best friend blah blah blah. I hate how she gets like that sometimes. (funny how it always happens after too many rounds of Peach Pussycats, Tequila Mockingbirds, or Cockblockers or something.)

anyway the poor li'l international superstar was halfway through her third “and I really want my hair just like yours. I mean, I don't CARE what it looks like!” when she sat down on the bathroom floor “just for a second.” That's the last thing she said.

it's not pretty at the moment but whatever. the way I see it, we're in this together now, and she needs my help. besides I kinda owe her. she was so cool with my bro last week.

should I go in there? god this sucks.

SlipKnotRules933111:
where are you

KellyKelSoCal321:
new york

SlipKnotRules933111:
carl and the twins are gone

KellyKelSoCal321:
WHAT?

SlipKnotRules933111:
left last night

KellyKelSoCal321:
fuck. but do u and mom get to stay at the house?

SlipKnotRules933111:
no he's coming back in four weeks and we have to be gone. we have until August 22

KellyKelSoCal321:
where's mom

SlipKnotRules933111:
she and that lawyer are talking downstairs.

KellyKelSoCal321:
they spend a lot of time together

SlipKnotRules933111:
tell me about it

KellyKelSoCal321:
fuck, evan that sucks.

SlipKnotRules933111:
that's ok I'm leaving tomorrow for a weeklong school trip to boot camp in utah.

KellyKelSoCal321:
no WAY!

SlipKnotRules933111:
yeah just like on Real Boot Camp Disasters!

KellyKelSoCal321:
be careful dude ok

SlipKnotRules933111:
you too

KellyKelSoCal321:
what do you mean?

FRIDAY JULY 26

RIHGA ROYAL HOTEL

NEW YORK CITY, 6:50
AM

Mood:
stressed out. they're coming at me from all sides. and tonight's the big pay-per-view show.

darla barnes pounded on my hotel suite door this morning at 6:30
AM
and shoved a clipping from the New York Morning Star Herald-Tribune Post in my face. Doesn't she sleep?

Just asking …

Which overfeted multiplatinum-selling blond divette who's in town to shoot a much-hyped pay-per-view concert special and needs to be at the top of her game tonight toppled off her platform boots on her way out of last night's 18th birthday bash at a hip downtown nite spot? Seems the wasted warbler, in town to film a pay-per-view concert at the Garden, threw back an extra Slippery Nipple or two without considering the consequences (ah, the travails of youth) and after two bar-top dances and one involuntary flash had to be assisted (some say carried) from the venue by her bestest backup dancer, who lovingly deposited the soda-pop star back at their hotel before commencing yet another liaison with her paramour, himself a pop star of platinum status. Oh, and note to the porn star … we mean pop star … in question: you left your wrap at the coat check.