CHAPTER ONE
Vivi
Monday, May 22
Vivi Holden would eventually realize that not getting what she wanted that day was the best thing that could have happened to her. But it was still early in Los Angeles. And the not-getting hadn’t yet taken place.
Vivi stood just outside of the curving black iron gates of the WorldWide Films studio in Hollywood and paused, shifting from heel to toe and back again in her good black shoes. When she thought about it later, she realized that pause, that uncharacteristic feeling of uncertainty, had been conveying something. But, standing there, on the brink of her future, Vivi would do what she’d become accustomed to doing: ignore the wary voice, charge forward, and deal with the consequences later.
The traffic on Melrose Avenue honked and sped: actors on their way to early call times at the Paramount lot down the street; lawyers on their way to Wilshire Boulevard offices filled with windowed suites and cigarette smoke and secretarial pools; and everyone else on their way to school or to eat pancakes at the Pantry or to bed after a long night doing whatever it was Angelenos did under the glow of the moon while Vivi slept, her dreams allowing her to escape from the swirl of thoughts that gripped her brain throughout the day. Thoughts of what she’d left behind colliding with thoughts of what she so badly longed for.
Vivi stared at the traffic, the hypnotizing hum.
“Is that Vivi Holden? The new star of Every Last Sunset?”
Vivi turned to see her best friend and fellow actress, Amanda Summer, eyes wide in feigned surprise, a mock gasp in her voice. Amanda and Vivi had been signed to WorldWide around the same time, cutting their teeth together and becoming best friends.
“Very funny, Amanda.”
“Aren’t you going in, lovey?” Amanda asked, gesturing toward the gate.
“I am.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
“I’m not sure.” Vivi laughed, scrunching up her nose, a bit confused by her hesitation. She realized she’d been picking at her nails again and forced herself to stop.
Vivi swallowed hard and took a deep breath. Then she put one foot in front of the other and walked confidently toward her future, toward the first day as the leading lady, Lola, in Every Last Sunset.
Vivi and Amanda made their way down the main thoroughfare to Soundstage Two, while Amanda prattled on about her boring date the night before. Vivi thought the studio lot looked as if it were preparing to star in a movie about a studio lot in the morning. Capped messengers riding bikes from one office block to another delivering trades, box office reports, contracts. Wardrobe mistresses wheeling metal racks bursting with costumes. Actors and actresses dressed as cowboys and Southern belles and executives and Romans, along with extras trailing behind, hoping to absorb the downdraft of theatrical success. All bathed in sunshine and scented by orange trees.
The machinations thrilled Vivi, as did her good fortune. Landing the female lead in Every Last Sunset signified that the studio, which really only meant Mr. Carlton Green, the capricious studio head, believed she was ready. And now she was finally on her way toward everything she wanted. Everything she needed to be financially independent and to make the most of her God-given gifts. That’s what she’d been told, and that’s what she’d come to believe.
Vivi sped up when she saw Soundstage Two just ahead on her left. A smile took form, lighting up her golden-brown eyes, her whole entire face.
“You ready?” Amanda asked, like a mother on the first day of kindergarten.
Vivi nodded and opened the door.
“Miss Holden, good morning.”
“Good morning,” Vivi said cheerfully to the young man in a navy-blue blazer embroidered with the WorldWide logo. He seemed to have been waiting for her.
“I’m Kenny, one of the production assistants. I’ll take you to your dressing room.”
“Coming?” Vivi looked over her shoulder at Amanda, who smiled and nodded.
Vivi’s eyes lit up when she saw the dressing room. She’d never had her own before, having shared cramped spaces with multiple girls for the other pictures she’d been in. She took in the cozy chintz love seat, the screened-off dressing area, and the cheerful pink-and-yellow floral wallpaper. And glorious, in the middle of the vanity, was an enormous bouquet of red roses, the tall glass vase tied with a sheer red ribbon.
“I wonder who those are from,” Amanda said, an unkind sarcasm in her voice.
Vivi rushed over and read the note: To my shining star. With love, Gabe.
“Was I right?” Amanda asked, rifling through the garment rack, tight with costumes.
“You were,” Vivi said lightly, deciding not to allow Amanda’s dislike of Gabe to infect this exciting day. She’d spent enough time listening to Amanda tell her all of the reasons why the relationship was unhealthy, none of which ever made much sense to Vivi. Gabe had always been wonderful, adoring, supportive. Her first true love. Amanda said there was something about him she didn’t trust. But, no, Vivi wouldn’t endure Amanda’s negativity regarding Gabe today.
“I’ll be back for you in fifteen minutes to take you to hair and makeup,” Kenny said, closing the door behind him.
“You sure about this, Vivi? You sure Lola is the best character to set you up for your career?” Amanda asked, standing behind Vivi, meeting her eyes in the mirror.
“What’s wrong with the character?”
“Just that she’s quite seductive. A vixen, from what you’ve told me. I’ve always thought your first lead role would be more…”
“Wholesome?”
“Perhaps.”
“I am sure about playing Lola, and even if I weren’t, it’s not my decision to make.”
“Either way, it’s about time you’re properly recognized. Soon everyone will know your name.”
Vivi had been assigned small test roles in a handful of films. The one with Wyatt Everett, where she played a cigarette girl in a nightclub scene and had to fend off Everett’s character’s advances while his date retired to the ladies’ lounge. The one with Lucille Banner and Monty Greer, where she played Banner’s younger sister who tried to steal Greer away while Banner’s character languished in a coma at a faraway hospital. And others of the same ilk. The studio’s casting heads told Vivi that girls with her looks got certain roles and would continue to get certain roles until the tastes of America’s filmgoers changed. Vivi was prescient enough to know that wouldn’t happen anytime soon and wise enough to realize, for her career’s sake, that was perfectly fine.
Now Vivi felt her hands drawing together reflexively and forced them into her pockets. Her ravaged cuticles couldn’t survive another attack by her fingernails. She thought about the role of Lola and what it would mean for her future career. “Jack and Mr. Green think this is the right role for me,” Vivi said to Amanda, hoping she sounded confident.
“But what do you think, lovey?”
“I—”
Vivi stopped when she heard knocking at the door.
Copyright © 2020 by Susie Orman Schnall
