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Authors: Carla J Hanna

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School was tough
on
the first Monday after prom
.
Alan was pissed off with me that we didn’t go to his after prom party
, kept
interrogating
us about if we bailed on the party to have sex,
and
at the end of lunch gave
Manuel photos he printed off from the internet of the
Constantine’s Muse
wrap party.
By the time I saw Manuel in
Mandarin Chinese class
, he was tense. He still hugged me when he saw me before class, but then
he
became stern.

“Marie, we need to talk.” He tossed the pictures on the desk in front of me. One picture showed me riding on the back of
Byron’s
motorcycle. Another showed me kissing his cheek. Another showed
Byron
and me laughing together
with
Byron
holding my hands
. Another photo showed me kissing a crew member on the lips. “What the hell were you thinking? Did you forgive the bastard? Tell me you didn’t. Who’s the new guy you’re kissing?”

I
hid my guilt behind
exasper
at
ion
. “Manuel, you have to get
thick-
skin
ned
. This is what I do. I kiss a lot of p
eople on the cheek or lips. It’
s the Hollywood hello. The pictures are taken out of context. That’s what
the tabloids do. It’
s their job. We’ve talked about this so many times
!
Manuel, I love you. Please don’t react to this smut.”

“I thought you weren’t talking to him.”

“I wasn’t. He apologized on Friday before the wrap party. We talked it through
. W
e’re friends.”

Manuel guffawed, “For now, you just opened the door for more surprise kisses,
ya know
. You can’t be friends with that guy! Marie, t
here is no gray area with him. N
one!”

Guilty and
annoyed
, I
frowned at him
as the teacher came into class
. Manuel apologized
immediately but I knew this relationship was going to be really tough on Manuel’s
half-
Latino ego.

I tried to ignore Manuel’s sensitivity to the photos for the rest of the day and focused on my meeting with the lawyers. Celia and I
arrived in
downtown Los Angeles when I finally decided to let
go of my worries
that Manuel would not be able to deal with the paparazzi
. We parked in the garage and headed up the elevator.

“Michelle actually did a very good job negotiating your original contracts,” Celia explained. “I’m not an attorney, but it looks like you’ll be a free girl soon. You still have
six more months
on your cosmetic endorsement contract, you have one more ad campaign and several interviews thereafter. Your Muse contract wasn’t in the pile. Do I have your permission to request a copy from
Martin
?”

“Yeah, of course.”

She continued, “Are you absolutely certain this is what you want? I’m not sure if your actions today will burn bridges. I know in my field, I’d be nuked.”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Nuke them, I thought to myself.

We exited the elevator into
Martin
’s office. There sitting in the lobby was
Mom
.

“Mom,” I gasped. “Thank you for coming. How did you…?”

“I told them I had a family emergency and will fly back tonight. I need to speak with you, Marie.”

“They’re gonna think I tried to kill myself!” I blurted. “What did you tell them, Mom?”

“I don’t need to give explanations. Remember, dear,
you’re
never required to explain. You must guard your privacy.”

Mom
d
idn
’t miss work. She
wa
s the consummate professional. She never t
ook
a sick day
or
wa
s late for work. She
even worked on the set of
A S
ingle Rose
up to the day I was born.

She was nine months pregnant, filming the final confrontation scene in which the cruel U
.
S
.
Cavalry colonel seeks forgiveness from Rose for killing her Arapaho Indian husband.  In the scene, Rose sits at the kitchen table in her one-bedroom cabin, obviously pregnant with her Caucasian-Native American baby. The town mayor, honorable sheriff
,
and despicable colonel sit at the table with her. Midwives are fussing in the kitchen behind them. Rose diplomatically accepts the colonel’s apology and stands up to pour him some coffee. Rose’s water breaks, fluid pools on the floor, and the midwives rush Rose to the bedroom. While hearing the labor pains from the closed door of the bedroom, the mayor and sheriff threaten the
colone
l
and vow that they will not tolerate any harm coming to Rose or to her child and that the U
.
S
.
Cavalry has made a monstrous error in killing innocent American Indians and are criminal in their relocation of the Indians onto reservations.

The scene was a powerful ending to a wonderful film saga and a great transition into the TV series. The aston
ishing part of the scene to me wa
s that
Mom
’s water did break when she got up from the table and
the
amniotic fluid really pooled on the floor. She did walk to the other “room” of the set. When the bedroom door closed, she
and
Dad
left for the Beverly Hills Hospital where I was born.

I looked at
Mom
,
afraid that she would
not forgive me for quit
ting
a promising acting career that she so painstakingly set up for me. Although I had an Oscar for Best Actress, there was no way I could fool her for a moment.
Mom
led me to
Martin
’s office and closed the door.

“I know your knees will buckle, so sit with me on the floor here.” We both dropped to the ground. She sat crossed-legged across from me and held my hands, resting the weight of our hands on our calves in front of us.

“Please don’t walk away from your career, your future. I’ve left you alone too much while I’ve been working. You need more support. I can give you that support. I’ll take on fewer projects. I’ll do more projects with you or within the same area. Perhaps m
y sister can visit more often
, maybe once
a
week.” She waited for me to fill in the silence with my babbling. I was not going to babble or show weakness. I did not feel weak.

She continued, “
Perhaps you need more breaks. You’ve been going non-stop since you’ve been thirteen.
You’re
probably suffering from exhaustion.
Two men took advantage of you.
One
tried to rape
you.
One
pressured you.
Social media skewered you. You and Evan had to live a lie.
That’
s a ton to deal with.
I’ll be done filming in May, and we can both go to
Montana
together. You can bring Man
ny
if you’d like. I know he makes you happy. Just please
continue acting.
You’re
so talented
.”

She
wept
. I could tell from the puffiness of her eyes that she had cried all night. She wasn’t wearing any makeup

she never did off set

but she looked strained. I sensed another feeling from looking into her wet eyes and strained face. She looked guilty, very guilty. I figured that she thought me being alone so much caused me to abandon my career.

“Mom, this isn’t your fault. I’m not lonely
,
” I lied. “
I rarely have time to even think. When I’m not working, I’m studying. I love to study. But I don’t love to work. I hate acting, Mom.” I looked at her in the eyes but could tell she was not convinced. She thought I was
emotionally traumatized and
exhausted from working so much.

Mom
disagreed, “Darling, it’s very important you tell the truth right now. Tell me honestly what you’re thinking. You love to work. You hate promotions and being the center of attention. You hate being so isolated.
You hate that your fans turned on you.
You hate that you have no one to trust. You worry that your love with Manuel won’t last because you think
everyone gets divorced. You worry about being alone and want to go hide somewhere with Ma
nny
where he can never leave you.”

“Okay. True. I love
shooting
a project. That’s one-fourth of the work. I hate the rest of the job.”
I tried to explain, “I hate having to kiss a guy on the set, pretend to love him, to entertain imaginations.
I hate the lifestyle.
I hate not having real relationships with people. I hate being guarded with everyone but Manuel, you, dad and Celia.”

She interrupted, “You are not the characters you play.
You’re
a great actor. You just need to have more confidence in yourself.
You need to
ignore the media and
deal with what happened with Matthew
and
Byron
.
Did something happen between you and Evan, too?

I shook my head. “
No, Evan is a gentleman
. H
e’s perfect, actually.”

She interrupted, “Then why did you push him away
when you were dating
?”

“Because I love
Manuel.”

“So now you have Manuel and c
an act
. T
he threat from your
co-star
s is gone.”

“No. It’s not just guy confusion.
I have been Muse
,
Juliet
, Virginia
and others. I’m so close to Muse that I’m not acting, instead I’m being myself while I’m saying someone else’s words.
Juliet’s pain and Virginia’s despair surface all the time. So
who am I?” I trailed off
; t
his was going nowhere. She
did
not understand me.
“This is about being an actor.”


You’re
a truly gifted actor,” she interrupted.

“Being around you as a kid, I learned to memorize scripts just like you. I learned to study expressions and read emotions just like you. You were my outstanding teacher and I was your eager student.”

“Marie,
you’re
not just good at your script.
You’re
unique
and
fearless
.
You give of yourself completely and shine. Your spirit expresses complexity and depth, power, like no other
actor because no other actor has your wisdom and innocence. You’re pure.

“But I don’t know who I am. Am I
Lia
? Marie? Muse? I realized that I can play the role of Muse because I’m not acting. I
act when I have to do an industry event. But when playing Muse,
I don’t have a self, a strong voice.”

“Darling, Muse is so much like you because it was written
for
you.
You’re
a tremendously gifted actor. The moment I saw your raw performance on set during
Left to Die,
how you nailed it on the first take, I knew you’d be phenomenal.”

“Mom, you have to understand. I wasn’t acting in the rape scene. Those were my real feelings. I felt trapped, embarrassed
,
and confused.
I
hated all of you for watching me experience my first kiss. I hated Rex
on top of me
,
touching me
,
and arousing me. I felt betrayed by the adults in the room who all thought that filming a rape scene with a completely innocent
just-turned-
fourteen
-
year
-
old girl was a good idea. I felt like you all condoned a forty
-
year
-
old man making out with a child.
It was irresponsible and disgusting
.”
Mom
looked shocked. I continued, “I hated the film and have never watched the whole thing. I hid in the restroom during the
premiere
and got drunk on champagne at the part
y.”

BOOK: Loved In Pieces
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ads

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