Starlet

There wasn’t a girl within the entirety of California or arguably the collective United States that wouldn’t kill to be in her shoes, and yet, she wished to be anywhere else. Despite the fact that she was adorned in a stunning emerald dress and accompanied by one of the world’s most eligible bachelors on her arm, she craved her midwest lifestyle as opposed to the one she was now thrust into. But with an award-winning smile made out of her plump lips, she exited the coal black vehicle before the soles of her feet met with the cobblestone pathway that led to the front door of this extravagant mansion. Yet, her eyes would not be met with the plethora of windows that gave insight to the circumstances she was about to endure or the attractive fountain that was placed in the center of the driveway for cars to encircle-instead, her gaze would fall to that of a figure unseen by all but her curious hazel orbs; a figure encased in the smoke he produced from a cigarette that illuminated her attention as well as an unexplainable pull she had towards him. She chalked this up as having been the fact she was enticed by something she simply couldn’t have. His silhouette was as daunting as any other within his classification of having been a male; his height was an inch or two above what would be deemed average and he wore an overall ambiance that belonged as a romantic male lead on the silver screen in opposition to that of having been concealed in a darkened alley. And yet, this was where his evergreen gaze, impressive jawline marked with the beginning of a mid-September shadow, and a pair of full lips that she became envious of had come to reside.  The sudden hand of her betrothed suddenly drew her attention away from this mysterious figure as she was escorted into the home of the unknown host to this celebratory charade of an abundance of forbidden liquor and taboo interactions. Of course, these details were not known to her until she was escorted by her fiance over the threshold and welcomed by a handsome man who evaded eye contact to each and every guest before and after them; as he was directed.  “Randall!” Her gentleman caller was addressed as his slender frame turned and instructed hers to follow until they now faced a middle aged man with a cigar between his chapped lips. Both men having been engaged in a temporary embrace of familiarity, their mutual focus now fell to the stunning woman of thick chocolate curls, sunkissed skin, and a pleasing expression of contentment looking back at them.  She was certainly a sight for sore eyes, for all the female guests within the confines of this art deco home lying in the hills of Los Angeles, she stood out among them all. Not for her beauty alone, although this could be reason enough, but for a look of innocence. This look had been wrested from these women as they had been in the clutches of Tinseltown-or more specifically the men who ran it, for far too long. But you would never come to know this by the expressions they wore due to their untroubled smirks and livened eyes. After all, it had been the duty of their occupation to portray emotions that rivaled those they experienced beneath the surface of their true feelings. And they did this both before the camera and behind it.  “This must be the notorious Serena…” The older gentleman of the two spoke to her as he extended his hand for her to take hold of before she was spun in his grasp so he was allowed the entire sight of her attire to him. “My boy, you spoke of her to perfection...But to have her stand before me now...I see no words could do her justice.” Her cheeks lit with a sudden blast of crimson to this slightly forward yet heavily intoxicated man speaking to her. Yet not wishing to embarrass Randall, she remained silent yet diligent in wearing a kind smile marked by uncertainty and being uneasy.  “It is no wonder you captured the title of “Miss Iowa”.” His eyes took in her appearance one final time before he diverted his focus to Randall, leaning close enough to him to seclude the words spoken to him alone-despite the fact they were overhead by Serena. “She is quite a doll…” The man’s attention was suddenly deposited into that of a man even more dated than him who wore a perpetual frown and worn eyes-drawing the cheery man away until only Randall and Serena remained. But as they were unfamiliar with any other guests aside from those they knew from reputation and photographs alone-all of whom were celebrities in their own rights, they remained in close confines as they made their way into the heart of the home to find a mess of nameless faces.  “Everyone, can I have a moment?” A voice suddenly silenced the live band as well as the guests that jived and bent in suit to the notes played by the instruments as the same man who drew his attention to Serena was now addressing the entire room; his gaze flicking to her with excitement as members of the crowd joined the target of his eyes as well. Of course, the women were curious to the new feminine presence that rivaled their beauty with ease; but the men looked at her as if she was something quite attainable as they saw Randall as an annoying obstacle-but one who was easily replaced.  “My nephew’s blue serge is going to allow us some entertainment.” Immediately she stilled in fear. She had only ever sung before during the talent show and she had only managed that by distracting herself with her adrenaline and the remainder of the prize money so desperately needed, but now she was frozen with stage fright. But as she felt Randall apply a harsh thrust onto her back that nearly forced her to fall face forward onto her low skirt, she recovered gracefully before moving into the direction of her fiance’s uncle, as he led her to a baby grand piano. The beginning notes to Bessie Smith’s ‘Down Hearted Blues’ began to echo throughout the home as Serena was thankful at least it had been a collection of lyrics she had come to know by memory. And so, pressing her hand into her diaphragm to ease her nerves and appear as a professional, she began to belt out the first words of the song.  From the moment her angelic cadence began to encapsulate the crowd, it was made quite evident from her level of vocal talent and beauty that she was a threat to every member of society present; actresses and singers alike. She was young, beautiful, talented, and untouched by the greedy hand of Hollywood; all details that were enviable to those who looked at her with pleased smiles but envious gazes. It was a blessing in disguise that she was unable to read their thoughts in this moment due to the fact that although they wore support on their expressions, they wished for her to be absent from their road to further stardom-by any means necessary; a tactic she would come to know soon enough.  But for the time being, the crowd silenced the remaining notes played by the pianist until only the applause could be heard in appreciation for Serena having lent her voice for this section of the evening. But the moment the acclamation had allowed her to develop a sense of assurance in her talent, the focus had averted from her as the crowd was torn through by a young woman.  At first, Serena was only allowed the same view as others as having seen the crowd part as a young woman moved throughout the crowd, pleading with tears in her eyes. Her fingers collected the collars of the men and the skirts of the women as she attempted to gain the attention for a reason only the disheveled young woman knew. But as she made her way to the vocal talent for the evening, she raced to her and dropped to her feet before Randall’s uncle motioned for her to be lifted from the ground.  Serena developed an immediate pity for this young girl as she emerged from the room wearing a swollen lip split with fresh blood and a bruising beneath her left eye that spoke for her of a struggle.  “Please! You have to help me! Or they are going to do the same to you!” These were the last words spoken until the young woman with jet black hair and makeup streaked down her cheeks and onto her own clothing had been escorted from the scene by force. But just before she managed to disappear behind a thick set of doors, the sight of blood was made known dripping down her knees. Fearful that the woman was in true danger, Serena attempted to chase after her before being collected by Randall and interrupted by his uncle as he demanded the room once again by clicking a glass together as if preparing to make a genuine toast.  “Virginia Moore, everyone.” The crowd extinguished its applause before it had even risen to proper bravos as he continued, reading the room’s uncertainty. “I suppose the cat is out of the bag on this one as she has been selected to play the recent lead of our new production...and although she was not supposed to show this scene for some time...I suppose she could not wait…” The majority of the crowd seemed to believe his words as law, all while Serena remained unsure. No matter the level of devotion one has to a role, she could not explain to herself that the true level of pain within this young woman’s eyes; a pain that could not be expressed through faux acting-could exist so genuinely.  “Where are you going?” Randall inquired as he took hold of her wrist, pulling her to remain in place as her curiosity led her feet into the direction of the closed doors that were now sealed with a large man seemingly standing watch.  “I want to make sure she is alright…She seemed-” “Do not be a wet blanket darling. My uncle explained it clearly...She was showcasing her latest role. Now let us enjoy this evening as every other county is dry and every other house is not as lively.” Suddenly Randall abandoned his betrothed and disappeared into the crowd after having been acknowledged by someone he must have known. But before she could learn the identity of said ally, she was excluded in the center of the foyer with only an expensive vase with wilting flowers present to keep her company.  “So YOU are the cat’s meow from Iowa?” A male voice drew her attention away from these sad daisies as she gave a kind nod and forced her hands to fall beyond her stomach until they hung loose. “It is a shame to see you alone…A drink?” He offered, not allowing her the chance to explain that she was engaged before then motoining her towards the direction of the outside patio. Accepting his invitation as it was custom in this point in time to trust easily and seldom question, she followed this handsome figure until he led her away from the noise of the gathering.  “How is it that you are experiencing California?” He asked kindly, despite the fact that his eyes lowered beyond what was deemed acceptable and this innocent girl was unaware that his intentions were so incredibly selfish and lustful.  “Warm, thank you.” She spoke honestly as she had become used to snow upon the ground this far into February, but now, the grass was as green wherever it appeared in Los Angeles and the sky was a steady shade of blue in daytime and an array of diamond stars in the present night that now hung overhead.  “You should have a proper fella show you ‘round….I have my bucket close if you-' ' Suddenly she came to realize that this kind gesture was not exactly selfless. Because of this, she returned the drink to his grasp and attempted to turn away before finding her waist collected by this man; one who was not famous enough to know by face alone but still popular to be present within the guest list of this apparently elusive invite.  “I would think about it before being a bluenose...You will not get very far if you reject the interest in you…” His hands now began to glide upwards until his thumbs hooked beneath her breasts. She was struggling to remove herself from the scene politely as all that was left had been the fear of embarrassing Randall or even his uncle. But she would not allow herself to also be known as a chippy. Because of this, she stepped back away from this man, but found him to remain steadfast in his hold on her.  “I appreciate your invitation but I am engaged-” The man was unmoved or seemingly mute to these words as it was as if she had remained silent, as she had expected him to wish to unhand her in the fear of this other man’s wrath. But instead, she found him to push himself further against her as her calves rested on the back of a marble fountain.  “And I am handcuffed-” The man explained as he held up his left hand to reveal a gold band around that specific finger on his ring finger that showed he was a married man. Her stomach twisted immediately as her eyes came over his shoulder to view Randall drinking in the attention of women already on his arms. Serena glared in his direction before finding the man speaking with her to have now pushed her even further towards the fountain until she was forced to sit.  “I could get you quite far if you show a kindness to me…” He explained as he moved his fingers to the restraints of his bottoms and drew attention to the bulge that formed in his pantaloons. Serena was nauseated by this as she had only ever been kissed, and even this was not a common occurrence as she was experienced in no more than three embraces; but this man made his intentions quite clear-intentions that she did not share even a lick of.  “I do not know the kind of women that you have here in California...but I am promised to another man-” “Another man who cannot give you what I can…” He leaned in to her, bringing his lips a mere inch or two from hers as she shied away from the scent of whiskey strong on his breath. But as she managed to win this temporary freedom, she found her face collected by his grip and a sudden fear shot throughout her body. “I will give you one more attempt to show how grateful you are to me…” However, as Serena attempted to push herself upwards, she was now pulled against the man as his fingers hungrily lifted the skirt of her dress and she continued to fight his grip. This continued until her feet gave way and she found herself entirely submerged in the large fountain that surrounded her as more of a pool or a manmade lake even than that of a ‘dainty’ fountain.  “Good riddance!” The man called out as Serena was suddenly met with the hand of another figure as she retracted immediately and found her footing to slide from the slippery interior of the pool. The secondary man had caught her before she would have surely broken her skull during this slip, until she was dipped within his arms as if they were finishing a move of the ‘taboo’ tango. “Are you alright?” He asked her as she was breathless with the exchange of events of the last handful of minutes; everything from her adrenaline singing to the apparent award-winning thespian who pulled at her heart strings, to the advances of the man prior to her supposed savior, and now the attraction she had to this potentially dangerous stranger-the same stranger she knew as having been the cigarette smoking shadow she viewed prior to entering the mansion.  At the same moment that she was parting her lips to answer, the sight of policemen taking hold of guests of the party had informed both her and her guardian that they had been made. Immediately, Serena believed that this had been from the amount of alcohol in the time of prohibition or perhaps that poor young woman had succumbed to whatever caused her to bleed, but either way, she had been frightened by the encompassing events of tonight. “If you stay flat footed, they will wrangle you with the rest of the bootleggers…” His comment validated her theory as this having been due to the liquor as she looked to Randall, who was already within his car and abandoning her behind. But without wishing to trust a complete stranger, she happened upon Randall’s uncle who was venturing through the patio by chance.  “Serena! What became of you?!” The man questioned when observing her hair sodden in companionship to her clothing and a look of fear ever present behind her eyes. But as quickly as he inquired, he interrupted his own ability to gain an answer as he was worried for her instead. “You need to cheese it...The last thing a rising star such as yourself needs is a scandal such as this…You do NOT need to end up in the clubhouse...” But as her eyes moved to the direction of Randall, whose headlights were already turned into the opposite direction, the older man let out a sigh of contagious discomfort.  “Let Paolo take you then...He is my personal driver and I can assure you that you can trust him.” The sight of the police becoming closer to her location and the lack of options, she agreed and turned to face the man who looked at her with a mix of approval and confirmation of his employer’s words.  Paolo led the way with his hand outstretched until they came to the doors of the 1922 Rolls Royce Springfield Phantom I. As a proper gentleman, he assisted her into the passenger side of the car before igniting the engine and removing her from the scene at the very second an officer of the law came to her side of the window to halt them. But Paolo pressed his sole harshly to the gas until he ensured the safety of them both.  “Where are you taking me?” She questioned as she realized the path he had taken was not the one that they had used when arriving at the mansion, and so with his continued silence, she began to conjure the worst ideas concocted by the pages of her uncle’s pulp fiction stories and magazines. “Please, answer me!” She urged, but the man remained quiet, driving her deeper into the night as she moved further away from any pending cars or witnesses to whatever else was about to befall her on this night....