Holly Hearts Hollywood (6 page)

I don’t know if I can do this. Barely a day after signing that stupid contract, and I’m already up to my eyeballs in sheet music for the album. I don’t know how to read this stuff! I finally cracked a while ago and called Serena. She’s on her way to help.

But now I’m panicking, because
Serena Salazar
is coming to my small motel room, and it smells like mildew in here. There’s also the small fact that my sister has been home all day, and I haven’t been able to get her to leave. I can’t have my fame-hungry sister in the same room as Serena!

Meredith and Amanda would simply die if they knew about this. They think that I’m some lowly intern, but I’m really going to record an album next week that I can’t tell anyone about! This might prove to be torture.

Oh God. Serena’s here.

Later, 4:00pm—Pink Palm Motel

When I opened the door, Serena was standing there in lime-green gaucho pants and high top Converse shoes with a portable piano under her arm. Her electric-blue hair was gone and had changed to match her pants. I don’t know how she’s able to dye her hair so much without it falling off in chunks.

“Hey, girl!” Serena smiled. “Ready to rock?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but my sister decided to start screaming.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my GAWD!” she screeched. Suddenly, Ivy barreled past me, a trail of body glitter in her wake. “You’re Serena Salazar!” Ivy turned and glared at me, her blue glitter eyeliner unevenly applied. “Why is she here? How did you meet her? Why didn’t you tell me that she was coming over?” Ivy smacked me in the arm.

“Ow!” I rubbed my arm. “Sorry, I met Serena the other day, and she’s helping me with some music stuff.”

Ivy wrinkled her nose. “How boring.” She gasped, and her eyes widened. “We should go shopping instead!”

Serena grunted and adjusted the piano under her arm. “Um, can I come in? This isn’t as light as it looks.”

“Yes, of course.” I glared at Ivy and shoved her aside. “Come on in. Try not to let the elegant décor overwhelm you.”

“No, I dig it. Tacky chic, right?” Serena laughed and plugged in the keyboard. “Do you have the music?”

“Yeah, sorry.” I handed her the giant binder full of music right as Ivy sidled up next to Serena. I mean, Ivy left Serena no personal space at all.

“Sorry,” Serena said to Ivy. “I can’t play with you right next to me.”

Ivy blushed. “Sorry, where should I sit then?”

“How about in the kitchen? Or maybe the bathroom?” I snapped.

Ivy glared at me, and Serena jumped in. “On the couch would be fine.” Serena started to flip through the sheet music. “I didn’t actually get to ask you the other day, but…tell me about yourself, Holly.”

“What?”

“She’s so boring,” Ivy groaned.

I ignored Ivy and turned to Serena. “But we talked the other day over coffee, and you asked me about myself there.”

Serena plunked out a few notes on the keyboard. “Yeah, we talked about your favorite reality shows and boy bands, not about your innermost secrets.”

My innermost secrets? Sometimes I pick my nose, and I don’t actually hate pickles (I’ve never actually had one); I just really hate the
idea
of pickles. But I wasn’t about to tell Serena those things.

“Um, I’m from Cedar Junction, Iowa, and I like horses?” I said uncertainly.

“Cedar Junction,” Serena repeated as she started to play the piano. “Isn’t that where Grayson Frost is from?”

Ivy inhaled sharply. “Yes, isn’t he a dream? Holly has something against him or whatever, though.”

“You must’ve gone to school with him,” Serena said, looking up at me briefly from the music.

I thought I was going to puke. The thought of Grayson Frost and our years together in school made me want to crawl into a hole. “Yes, I knew him in elementary and junior high,” I trailed off. This was the part of the story I’m never sure whether I should tell. It sounds whiny and like I’m trying to tear down a celebrity for no good reason. “Grayson and I didn’t really run in the same circles,” I said. It was only a fraction of the truth.

I remember when I first saw Grayson. It was the very first day of preschool, and I was playing in the sandbox with an abandoned Raggedy Andy doll. A boy I’d never seen before came up to the edge of the sandbox. Even back then, when he was only the size of a hobbit, he was beautiful. I dropped the Raggedy Andy doll after looking into his hazel eyes, and the sand flew up into my own eyes. He must’ve been seriously offended by this, because he pushed me. My dress flew up over my head, and
everyone laughed. It took me one second to develop a crush on Grayson and one playground shove to make me realize I was an idiot.

“He was at the studio the other day; why didn’t he recognize you?” Serena asked brightly.

Ivy pulled a nail file out of her purse. “That’s because she got fat right after he moved.”

“What my sister means is, I broke my leg the summer between eighth and ninth grade. I gained weight while the leg was healing, and I couldn’t get it off.” The weight gain kind of snuck up on me. I didn’t even realize how heavy I’d gotten until it was too late. Then my hair decided to change colors, which made me briefly wonder if I was developing the ability to shape shift. It’s no wonder Grayson didn’t recognize me—I look totally different. “He isn’t going to sign with Shell Shocked, is he?” I asked, my heartbeat erratic.

Serena shrugged. “I don’t know. His contract with Golden Chord is up, but it doesn’t mean he’ll leave. They practically created him.”

“I hope he gets back on the next plane to Nashville soon.”

“You’re crazy,” Ivy said dryly.

“Can you go away? I need to practice these songs.”

“Not on your life.”

The rehearsals with Serena didn’t take too long, and they were actually super fun despite Ivy’s hovering. The songs are more pop than they are country, but they’re easy, which is perfect, since we’re supposed to record this album next week. There’s this one song called “Small Town Girl”
that I really like, but it’s kind of silly for Lacey to “sing” since she’s from Houston. The studio is pushing for this to happen quickly. So quickly, in fact, that I have to go with the other interns to a photo-shoot for the album
tomorrow
. I don’t even know what being an intern means. Do I have to lie down in puddles so the stars won’t get their feet wet? Do I file paperwork or something? Do I need to wear a pantsuit? Do I even own a pantsuit?

HOMEWORK:

Calc:
Pages 1-10 of introductory worksheet.

Spanish:
Chapter one and questions at the end.

Economics:
Spreadsheet of monthly budget.

English:
Read chapters 5-10 of
Silas Marner
.

THINGS TO DO:

1.
Homework! Can’t slack off in the very first week.

2.
Learn songs.

3.
Buy toilet paper.

4.
Find another box for items I’m amassing for collection.

February 12
^th
, 4:45pm—Warehouse Fifteen

I knew one day all those episodes of
America’s Next Top Model
would come in handy. I’m at some warehouse on the wharf, which doesn’t seem like the first choice for a photo-shoot. It’s chaos here, mainly because
Lacey
is freaking out. She’s angry about the yellow Mike and Ike’s in her candy bowl. She practically foamed at the mouth when they had a Bruno Mars album playing instead of Lorde.

As much of a pain in the ass Lacey is, that girl is gorgeous. She’s painfully beautiful, and she can work it in front of the camera. These pictures are going to be
so
much better than those glamour shots Rachel Pritchard got done at the mall. Everyone made such a big deal out of those pictures, like she’d been on the cover of
Vogue
. In reality, she was sitting in front of an airbrushed backdrop with her chin resting on her hands.

When we arrived, I was already irritated; Ivy had nagged me nearly to death to come to the photo-shoot. I’m sure she planned on jumping in front of Lacey mid-pose or putting a banana peel in her path to incapacitate her so the producers would have no choice but to hire a random girl on set to take her place.

When we arrived on set, I was blown away. There were racks and racks of clothes. Why they need that much clothing for one girl, I’ll never know. When Serena met me, she was wearing some weird bohemian Chanel suit along with beaded necklaces and peacock feathers in her hair.

“Welcome to Hell,” she said.

“What are you talking about?” I said. “This is awesome.”

“Don’t worry, it’s your first time. You’ll be as disillusioned as the rest of us soon enough.”

“I don’t even know why I’m here. I’m not in the pictures.”

At this moment, Lacey stomped over in her towering stilettos, looking a bit like a wobbly palm tree with her green dress and blown-out blonde hair.

“
There
you are,” she spat as she grimaced at Serena’s outfit. “We’re having a crisis at the craft service table. There are
yellow
Mike and Ike’s.”

“And what do you want Holly to do about it?” Serena asked with a hint of bitterness.

Lacey’s expertly made-up eyes rolled dramatically, like she was in an audition for an exorcism movie.

“Who’s Holly?” she drawled.

I thought Serena’s eyes were going to pop out of her head. She grabbed my shoulders in a vice-like grip and shook me like a ragdoll.

“
This
is Holly.”

Lacey pursed her glossy lips. “Oh. Well, she’s an intern, isn’t she? What good are interns if they don’t help the talent?”

Serena rolled her eyes again. It was turning into a full-blown eye-rolling competition.

“You aren’t Holly’s boss; she needs to report to Molly, the girl standing by the craft service table,” Serena said to me rather than Lacey. Molly wore wire-rimmed glasses and was munching on a Nilla wafer. Lacey wavered on her heels. I could tell she wanted to rip Serena’s head off like a praying mantis. I’m pretty sure Serena’s dad being Lacey’s boss was the only thing that stopped her. Her ocean-blue eyes slithered over to me.

“Fine, have it your way.”

I walked over to Molly and introduced myself. “I’m a new intern,” I explained when her face remained blank.

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember anyone mentioning you to me,” she said, her mouth full of cookies. It was one of those times you suddenly doubt everything you’ve been told. It’s like showing up to a party wearing a costume only to find out Halloween was last week. At that moment, Keller, resident sex god, decided to stroll up.

“It’s Holly, isn’t it?” he said. His voice caused a minor earthquake in my body.

“Yes,” I stammered. “I’m supposed to be interning, but Molly seems to never have heard of me. I’m a little confused.”

Keller was wearing a very tight pair of black skinny jeans, a plaid shirt, a skinny tie, and pointy dress shoes. He’s such a snappy dresser. It’s a little weird to have a crush on a guy who dresses infinitely better than you.

“I’ll go talk to someone and find out what’s up. Don’t move,” he said, winking at me. I nearly lost it right there. I’ve never fainted before, but it was so unexpected that he nearly flirted me into unconsciousness. A few minutes later, Mr. Salazar walked up to me. He put his arm around me and led me away from the Craft service table.

“I’m sorry about the mix-up, Holly, but I thought you knew the internship is purely ceremonial. You can put it on any job applications you want, and we’ll pay you for it, but you don’t actually have to do anything. You have enough on your plate.”

I wasn’t sure if I should be disappointed or happy. I mean, I’m still allowed to come and hang around during the events they host, but it does give me less to do and less time to hang out with Keller, who vanished after I finished talking to Mr. Salazar. But seriously, what’s the point of being an “intern” if I’m not going to do anything? I hate feeling useless.

Now I’m just sitting in a canvas director’s chair. I was trying to work on my homework, but I couldn’t focus. I think Lacey’s worn seven different outfits already, although her poses don’t differ much between an awkward bending at the middle with a pouty lip and an upright pose with a bigger pouty lip. She looks like she has cramps in one picture and a lip infection in the other.

All I know is I’m so glad it’s not me up there having to work it. I don’t even have anything to
work
, unless I jump up and down and jiggle all my belly fat like that kid in
The Goonies
. With that sex appeal, I’m sure to sell millions of records.

HOMEWORK:

Calc:
Study for quiz.

Spanish:
Who knows? I’m already lost.

Economics:
SPREADSHEET
!!

English:
Edit essay on
Silas Marner
.

February 13
^th
, 10:30am—Pink Palm Motel

So, this morning I was digging through my boxes and suitcases of clothes, trying to find something to wear, when I had a horrible realization: I have nothing fashionable. I’ve known I’m not the most fashionable dresser all along, but I’ve only realized now how silly I actually look. I feel like one of those people on
What Not to Wear
as they watch the secret footage of them wearing orange faux-fur skirts.

I started to panic. How am I supposed to go about my day-to-day life here when I look like I belong in the cast of
Children of the Corn
? I couldn’t go ask Ivy for help, much less borrow her clothes. I’m nowhere near her size, and Ivy still dresses like she belongs in an old Disney Channel movie.