Blair walks back in with a drink and looks over at me and I look away and pretend to be interested in the conversation.
The costume designer slaps his knee and says, “Marco! Marco!” He yelps the name again. “Marco … uh, Marco … Ferr … Ferra … oh shit, I have completely forgotten.”
“Marco King?”
“No, no, no.”
“Marco Katz?”
Exasperated, the costume designer shakes his head and says, “Did anyone see Beastman!?”
“When did Beastman! come out?” Blair’s father asks.
“Beastman! came out last fall, I think.”
“Did it? I thought I saw it at the Avco over the summer.”
“But I saw a screening of it over at MGM.”
“It didn’t even open at the Avco,” someone says.
“I think you’re talking about Marco Ferraro,” Blair says.
“Yeah, that’s it,” the costume designer says. “Marco Ferraro.”
“I thought he O.D.’d,” Jared says.
“Yeah, Beastman!, that was pretty good,” the film student says to me. “See it?”
I nod, looking over at Blair. I didn’t like Beastman! and I ask the film student, “Didn’t it bother you the way they just kept dropping characters out of the film for no reason at all?”
The film student pauses and says, “Kind of, but that happens in real life .…”
I stare ahead, at Blair.
“I mean, doesn’t it?”
“I guess.” She won’t look at me.
“Marco Ferraro?” Blair’s father asks. “Is he a dago?”
“He’s gorgeous,” Kim sighs.
“Total babe,” Alana nods.
“Really?” the director asks, grinning, leaning toward Kim. “Who else do you think is … gorgeous?”
“Yeah, girls,” Blair’s father says. “Maybe you can give us some input.”
“Just remember,” Jared says. “No great actors. Just some guy whose ass looks as good as his face.”
The costume designer nods and says, “Absolutely.”
“Daddy, you know I’ve been asking you to put Adam Ant or Sting in the movie,” Blair says.
“I know, I know, honey. Clyde and I have been talking it over and if you really want it that bad, I think something can be arranged. What do you think about Adam Ant or Sting in Star Raiders?” he asks Alana and Kim.
“I’d see it,” Kim says.
“I’d see it twice,” Alana says.
“I’d get it on videocassette,” Kim acids.
“I agree with Blair,” Blair’s father says. “I think we should seriously look into Adam Ant or String.”
“That’s Sting, daddy.”
“Yeah, Sting.”
Clyde smiles and looks at Kim. “Yeah, let’s get Sting. Whaddya think about that, honey?”
Kim blushes and says, “That would be great.”
“We’ll call him and Adam for readings next week.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” Blair says.
“Anything you want, baby.”
“You better check his bod out first, Clyde,” says Jared, looking concerned.
“Oh, we will, we will,” Clyde says, still smiling at Kim. “Wanna be there when we do it?”
Blair finally looks at me with this pained look in her eyes and I look over at Kim, almost ashamed, then angry.
Kim blushes once more and says, “Maybe.”
Julian hasn’t called me since I gave him the money and so I decide to call him the next day. But I don’t have his number and so I call Rip, but Rip’s gone, some young kid tells me so I call Trent’s apartment and Chris answers and tells me that Trent’s still in Palm Springs and then asks if I know anyone who has any meth. I finally call Blair and she gives me Julian’s number and when I’m about to tell her that I’m sorry about the night at After Hours, she says she’s got to go and hangs up. I call the number and a girl with a really familiar voice answers.
“He’s either in Malibu or Palm Springs.”
“Doing what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Look, can I have the number at either of those places?”
“All I know is that he’s staying at the house in Rancho Mirage or at the house in the Colony.” She stops and seems unsure. “That’s all I know.” There’s a long pause. “Who is this? Finn?”
