Sherry sat transfixed, hugging a sofa cushion to her chest, breathless. She watched as Red made her way up the red carpet in Grauman’s Chinese Theatre. After a year of box office smashes, it was time to put her signature, hands and stilettos in concrete.
When the deed was done, Sherry tossed the cushion to the floor and stomped into the kitchen, where she paced and muttered to herself. She snatched the bottle of bourbon off the counter. For once, she was not upset she had not returned it to the freezer. She poured a shot glass full, drained it, refilled it and drained it again. Before her throat stopped burning, she threw the glass against the wall and did not shy from the flying shards.
Tears streaked her face. She was unaware of the makeup caked beneath her eyes from the last three crying jags in the last 24 hours. “It’s not fair. I never wanted HER in that role.” Sherry tucked into the fetal position in front of the dishwasher and let the last three years play before her eyes.
Calvin held her so tight after he read the screenplay. “This has to be the finest thing you have ever written!” Sherry blushed, even though she knew he was right. The Sub would be her crowning achievement.
Searching for a director had been easy. Producers fought over the screenplay until she chose three to work together. The budget was massive. The crew was huge. The advance check had more zeroes than she had ever seen. This would be her ticket to an Oscar™ for best screenplay which would open the world to her. Before she knew it, her still tiny and obscure world began to crumble.
The casting director did not listen to her objection. Of all the actresses in the world, the last one she would have chosen was Red. She had to be the most infuriating woman Sherry had never met. She led this charmed existence. Everything she touched was box office gold. Even her short films were lauded as inspirational and groundbreaking. Sherry knew she would be lost in Red’s shadow, but she had no idea how far into the darkness she would plunge.
First, Red asked to change the wardrobe. She did not want the dowdy garments written in the screenplay. She wanted sharp clothes which accented her body. Next, she wanted to change the character’s back story because she did not want her fans to associate her with a “rags to riches” story. The director agreed. Then, Red wanted her love interest to be a colleague rather than the student in the third row. The Adonis cast as the vice principal meant Red had won again.
The movie which hit the big screen looked nothing like what Sherry had envisioned. She was convinced her attorney had forgotten or never known how to negotiate a place for her at the creative table. She had no say in the changes. He later explained giving up those rights was responsible for two extra zeroes on her check.
Lying on the floor of a one-bedroom condo in Redondo Beach, Sherry faced the fact she was a sellout. As accolades rained on the cast and crew, she did not receive an invitation to a single event. She had become a footnote to the blockbuster hit of the year, which had already gathered a cult following who did not know her name. The residual checks were small compared to those issued to the executive crew, producers and stars. The depression was exhausting.
A few hours later, Sherry awoke in a puddle of drool on the kitchen floor. Pushing herself upright, she wondered if inventors felt this way when someone came along and “improved” their inventions. As she got to her knees, lightning struck. She took her feet, knowing precisely how to turn the tables. She would go down in history associated with The Sub, even if only as the one who killed its star.
Will you join me on a Month of Prompts? Grab the picture. Link to the page. It will be a fun ride!
What title do you think would be the perfect movie starring moi? Want to take this challenge?
Hashtags: #writingprompts #amwriting #MonthofPrompts
Thank you for sharing The M3 Blog with hashtags.