The Aces – Chapter 7 continues…

Posted: July 1, 2013 in The Aces 
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The Aces“High society and your girlfriend,” Rachel said.

The door opened wide and the group walked into the apartment. The door automatically closed behind them. Rachel’s daughter ran over to the man sitting in a wheelchair. There were two other men sitting on the couch watching TV. Gigi walked over to Philip and threatened him by saying, “Don’t say a word.”

Gigi walked over to the man sitting in the wheelchair and gave him a kiss on the cheek. The man’s face turned red and he smiled. Gigi hugged and kissed both of the men sitting on the couch. She told the actors to sit down and relax. Carey and Peter looked at each in amazement of how Gigi treated the men in the room. After talking with them for a while, they left the apartment and Rachel’s daughter.

In the parking lot Carey asked Gigi, “Who were those men?”

“People,” Gigi said.

“You know what I mean.”

“They’re rich college kids who live in this apartment complex.”

“They live in that room together?” Carey asked.

“No, they live in their own apartment. The dude who hugged Rachel is the caretaker.”

“They’re poor, sick people. I was afraid to touch them,” Philip said.

“I’m afraid to touch you. They’re worth more than you anyway. The guy in the wheelchair named Fred is worth sixty million dollars. The guy who had the smart mouth, his name is Terry. He’s worth forty million. The guy who was drooling, his name is Paul; he’s the poor guy in the group, he’s only worth ten mil. They suffer from autism.”

“Philip, if you wanted to be big, you should have spoken with Terry. His father is an executive producer for Paramount.”

Philip said, “I think his father is cursed to have a son like that.”

“You’re so stupid,” Gigi said, disgusted with him.

Carey knew Gigi and Rachel wanted to wrap their hands around Philip’s throat. Carey asked Gigi to open the truck doors and he told Philip to get inside.

“Rachel, calm down, you know he’s stupid. Look at the source,” Peter said.

Rachel thought about the situation for a moment and then agreed with Peter. Carey took Gigi to the side and asked, “You hang out with them?”

“Yes, all the time. I have to see my boyfriend. Those guys are my friends, plus Terry is a party animal. He’s my club partner.”

“What do you see in them?”

“Not their money, but human beings. I enjoy being around them. We talk, we hang out, and we play games. I don’t see the outside appearance, but their heart. Fred is a guy that likes to sit down a lot, Terry shakes when he enjoys our discussions, watching television or walking. Paul likes to eat wonderful tasty foods. Their outward appearances don’t mean a thing; it’s what’s in their hearts. I wish some of the co-stars had a heart.”

“What do you mean?”

“The disability and homeless banquet, it was a shame. Terry didn’t know anything about it. Maybe some of the money went to the disability foundations, but basically it was a show for you guys.”

“You think you know it all, but you don’t,” Carey said.

“I don’t want to know it all, if I did I would probably vomit,” Gigi said and walked to the truck.

Gigi sat in the driver’s seat and said, “Philip, if you say a word, I will hit you.”

“First I need to know where I can find an ATM,” Philip said, ignoring the comment.

“There will be one near the club,” Gigi said.

Carey and Peter climbed into the truck and they all followed Rachel to the club. They arrived in Scottsdale at the famous Club D where the sports, musicians, actors, and other celebrities enjoyed their real lives in the darkness of the media spotlight. At this club the house rules are: minding your own business because the rich and famous go there to have fun.

“Philip, there’s an ATM next to the camera shop across the street,” Gigi told Philip in the parking lot.

The group walked across the street to keep an eye on Philip. Philip hadn’t been acting his crazy unusual self. He was acting slightly normal. Since there was a camera store, Gigi felt the urge to buy a digital camera. She rarely took pictures, but she wanted to remember these moments. This particular moment that she was in the spotlight and surrounded by A-list actors; her dream come true. She didn’t feel that she had been on the elite celebrity list yet, but being around the people on the list gave her more of a motive to quit her job and become a writer full-time. She saw the glamour they portrayed and when she became an A-list celebrity she could stop the act and people would take her seriously.

Gigi walked into the camera shop with Rachel and the two actors while Philip was at the ATM. Gigi looked at the different cameras on display and chose the one that cost $200. Gigi was willing to spend the money because she hardly spent any money on herself. She had a fear of spending it. This fear started when Gigi was younger. For some unknown reason, she had it in her mind that her family would spend all the cash her parents made. Gigi never lived in a poor household and she got anything she wanted. The summer vacations were to exotic places in the world, her parents drove their own cars, and they got a new car every two years. Gigi’s mother brought a new fur coat once a year and she was a regular at Macy’s, Bloomingdale’s, Saks Fifth Avenue, Neman Markus, and other upscale clothing stores. The employees at the stores knew her mother on a first name basis. When Gigi and her brother were younger, their mother would drag them to all the stores. The sales associates became their babysitters for the hours they were trapped there. Gigi’s habit of not spending money left her parents puzzled and confused, but when she grew up they learned to accept her habit. The habit got worse when Shawn came into her life. He would spend money like he could photocopy it every day, but he was always broke. Gigi couldn’t believe that a man who made $80,000 a year was broke all the time, until he was diagnosed with his mental condition. Today, she wanted to have fun and was willing to spend any amount of money; she hoped this moment would last forever.

While Gigi was buying the camera, Carey saw Gigi in a different light than before. She had a warm heart that felt pain, love, and sorrow, instead of a heart of stone and ice. Gigi bought the camera, took pictures of the group, and everyone signed autographs for the store owner and his employees. They then met Philip outside the store.

The club scene was crazy with people dancing half-naked and go-go dancers dancing in cages and on the bar. There was also a private sitting area on the second floor where Peter and Philip sat, as Rachel, Gigi, and Carey started dancing on the floor.

“Philip, go on the dance floor,” Peter said.

“I don’t know how to dance,” Philip confessed.

“Shake your body. No one here is going to laugh at you,” Peter said to Philip.

“Okay. I’ll join Carey.”

Peter caught a woman staring at him. She was thin and tan, with long, black, straight hair. She was wearing a two-piece outfit revealing her cleavage, stomach, and thighs.

“Hello, is this seat taken?” the woman asked, coming over to the table.

“No,” Peter replied.

“My name is Armani. I know you’re Peter Right. Where’s your wife?”

“At home, thank you.”

“France?”

“Yes,” Peter said.

“So, you came to America without your wife to have some good American fun?” Armani asked.

Armani slipped off her three-inch heels and rubbed his groin with her foot. At first, he was enjoying the action, but realized this woman wasn’t his wife.

“Stop it. I love my wife,” Peter said and grabbed her foot and threw it down.

“Listen, I love my husband too, but I love the fun. We can have fun together.”

The invitation was very tempting, but he jumped up and ran to the bar area. He saw the scene in his mind over and over again. He reminded himself that he was a changed man. He knew the woman thought he was the old Peter Right, but he wasn’t. Before he even thought about trouble or the trouble around him, he thought about his family. With this thinking process, he was able to get out of any situation that would make him become the old Peter Right again. He sat at the bar.

“What’s your poison?” Gigi asked Peter at the bar.

“You’re serving tonight?” Peter asked.

“The manager of the club is short-handed and he asked me to fill in. Rachel, Philip, and Carey are on the dance floor.”

“Rum and Coke, make it a double,” Peter said. Gigi made the drink and handed it to Peter.

“How much?” Peter asked.

“It’s on me. You need it. I saw the woman approach you,” Gigi said.

“What did you see?” Peter asked.

“Everything.”

“You’re not going to tell anyone, right?” Peter asked, embarrassed.

“What is there to say? Nothing happened. You ran away like a good husband.”

“It’s amazing that a person like a gossip reporter would take the wrong point of view,” Peter said.

“I know, but I didn’t see anything.”

Peter drank from the glass and pondered what she said.  He saw a different side of her altogether. She was human, not as cutthroat, evil or cunning as she made herself out to be.

“Are you going to dance?” Philip asked Peter, as he walked over to him.

“In a minute.”

Peter looked around the club and remembered the time when he was a popular young actor. He would go to clubs, parties, drink, smoke, and sniff cocaine. Whenever he would snort the white stuff, he had to laugh because on his television series at the time, he was the one who stopped drugs from coming into the school. The drugs and the alcohol was a wonderful mix, which he called Club Mix. He would party long and hard at night, and in the late morning or afternoon, he felt the affects of the Club Mix. Sometimes he would wake up in strange places, like jail or on the street. Sometimes the movie company had to stop production for him, which cost them large sums of money. Some companies would refuse to cast him at all. As he heard about his business on the news, he would stay in bed in his depressed state. During the extreme depressed states he would always be sporting a new tattoo somewhere on his arms or legs.

Thinking back in the past and now, he was grateful about his family and how they changed him for the better. He looked down at the drink and knew that he could trust the woman who gave it to him.

He looked at Rachel and Carey dancing together and wished he had Carey’s youth and vigor. He wasted it on drugs and alcohol and acted like a fool for the press.

Gigi gazed at the dance floor and saw the group dancing. She then saw Peter dancing with other women in a sexual way. He was acting drunk, but she only gave him one mild drink. Gigi was pretty much done at the bar so she went over to the group and started dancing.

“It’s getting late and I’m tired. I see that Peter needs some sleep,” Gigi said to Rachel.

“Okay,” Rachel said and looked at her watch. “You’re right, it’s twelve midnight. I have to work today.”

“You open your shop on Sundays?” Gigi asked.

“On special occasions. One of my clients is getting married later on today. I better go,” Rachel said. “By the way, did you take your pills yet?”

“Not yet. They’re in the truck. I’m going to take them now and drive straight to my parents’ house.”

“Okay. I’m just looking out for my girl,” Rachel said.

“I know it,” Gigi said and hugged her.

Rachel left the club and then Gigi told the group that it was time to leave. Carey saw Peter stumbling when he walked, so he acted like a cane for Peter and helped him. They walked outside and Gigi told them that she was going to get the truck and drive it to the front door. While driving, she found her pills and took them without water.

When they got to her parents’ house, Gigi parked the truck inside the driveway. She and the actors got out of the truck and walked over to the guesthouse.

“Philip, you can stay here. I’ll keep the main house front door open for you.”

Philip grabbed his bag of clothes and kissed Gigi on the cheek. Gigi grabbed her bag, Carey, and Peter’s while Carey carried Peter to the front door. Gigi helped Carey with Peter and took him to her mother’s guest room. They laid his body on the bed and covered him up with a blanket.

“How many drinks did he have?” Carey asked.

“I gave him one, but I don’t know how many he had before,” Gigi said. “Follow me.”

Gigi and Carey walked to a door and she opened it.  Inside there was a Spiderman nightlight shining and a little boy sound asleep in his bed.

“I have to move him to my room,” Gigi said.

“Who is he?” Carey asked.

“My little, little brother,” Gigi said.

Gigi picked up the little boy and carried him to her room. Coming back to the room, she said to Carey, “You can sleep here.”

“That’s your brother? How old is he?” Carey asked, lying on the bed, waving Gigi over.

“He’s five. My mom had him in her early fifties.”

“But he’s your little, little brother. I don’t understand.”

“I have a brother who’s twenty-three.”

“Oh, now it makes sense.”

“Are you cozy under the covers?” Gigi asked.

“Yes, thanks. Where do your parents sleep?”

“In the other wing. This wing is for my brother and guests,” Gigi said.

Carey looked deep in her eyes and he could see her true soul. She was portraying a lie just like he was, but he wanted to know why. She was a female version of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Why the secret life?

“Tell me, at the pub where I met you, was that really you?” Carey asked.

“No. It was the writer.”

“When I was trying to learn your accent, was that you?”

“A little,” Gigi said.

“At the audition?”

“The writer,” Gigi replied.

“Banquet?”

“The writer.”

“Now?”

“Me,” Gigi said and smiled.

“Why? You are a writer. Writers are never in the open.”

“You mean never seen. Writers should get more respect from the media. People always think that we’re nerds sitting at our computers typing away our deep dark fantasies. The media pictures us like that, as people with tortured minds and we have to make up people in our minds, so we can have our own little social life in the brain.  The bottom-line is that people think we’re crazy. With horror writers, people think we’re part of a cult, we sleep in a coffin, we think we’re vampires, and sleep with the dead. Without writers, actors wouldn’t know how to act. We’re the people who create the characters and their personalities and accents. You give the character a body to work with. I believe we’re the real celebrities,” Gigi said.

“Why the acting?”

“I gave my so-called character a body to work with, and this happened by accident. It started with my first full-length young adult novel. The heroine in the novel was a rebel and ghost chaser. A lot of young girls fell in love with her because she doesn’t wear the latest fashions, has piercings, and two tattoos. Well, one day, I forgot that I had a book signing and the publicist reminded me at the last minute when I was in school. I left the class and went straight to the book signing. People were in shock that the author wore a tank top that revealed her pierced belly button, wore baggy blue jeans with holes, had six piercings in her ears, and sported a tattoo around her arm. It was a fake one, but still.”

“So, what’s wrong with that?”

“There’s an unwritten code in the writing field.  Basically, I wasn’t dressed appropriately. In the bookstore, where I was signing my book, there was an author; she pulled me to the side to talk about how I was dressed. I told her off and continued signing my books.  Think about it, it’s my first book signing and I forget about it. Now you’re going to talk to me about how I’m dressed? After the little incident my fan base grew. That’s when I was first labeled as a bad ass.”

“What? That’s crazy,” Carey exclaimed.

“It’s the truth.”

“How do you come up with your stories?”

“As I told Nick, my dreams. Everyone has dreams, I just write about them. Sometimes I don’t write about my dreams, instead I write about people in my visions. But if you must put a label on it, I write horror, sci-fi, and mystery,” Gigi said.

“I must read one of your books.”

“You want to hear a story?”

“Yes,” Carey said with excitement.

“Lepta felt sad and lost in a big house made out of love and hard work. She goes into her husband’s study and sits in his chair made of fabric and wood, it was his favorite chair. Six months later from his death, she can still smell the cigar smoke from the fabric. A tear runs down her face and she wishes she could see him again. Every day from the time she buried him until now, she has practiced the same routine. Today was different. She felt different in the chair. She looked at his picture and the picture floated on her lap. She saw smoke in mid-air and it smelled like a cigar. She knew it was him, the love of her life. I want to join you, she says. The sweet little old woman closes her eyes and expires with a smile.”

“That came from one of your books?” Carey asked.

“I just made it up on the spot. You wanted to hear a story. I just gave you an example of what I write about.  About people, the drive in us, and human nature mixed with horror.”

“I must read one of your books,” Carey said.

“Thanks. I’m happy to get paid,” Gigi said.

“I better go. See ya in the morning,” Gigi said and walked out the door. She smiled at herself and strolled to her room where her brother was sleeping.

Carey thought back to the conversation he had with her. It was strange, so strange. They were the same, but different. They were both playing an act in the spotlight.

End of chapter 7

 

About Aliya Leigh

Aliya LeighSince being the host of her drama gossip news driven popular podcast, she have been keeping her life busy with producing and directing anime webshows, acting, writing books, designing skateboards and running a social media company while holding down the fort at home with her professional poker playing partner. Her current show is entitled, “Mercy Me –Deadly Professional”; which is an animated web series about a drug and sex addicted medical doctor who practices euthanasia for a fee.

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