THE CONTRACT WAS amended to incorporate the changes, Marsha returned, her disappointment at the Tides of Conquest cast being away on location quickly forgotten when she found out that she would be part of the film crew for the Rock Fuck Club.
"A PA? Holy shit!" she exclaimed. "How did you manage that?”
"I made some concessions." I shrugged a shoulder, ducked my head and went back to reading and initialing the twenty-five page agreement on the conference table in front of me.
"What kind of concessions?" Marsha dropped her pen. It fell with a soft thud onto her smaller pile of paperwork.
"I agreed to pay for the attorney fees associated with the JGB fiasco. I have to make a public statement countering his claims. I'm also responsible for making sure you stay in line."
"Ha! That will be interesting."
“Yeah." I tried to smile but the details I omitted regarding Lucky kept one from forming.
A knock on the glass wall behind us only a couple of moments after we both finished signing the last page had me fairly certain the room had video cameras hidden in it somewhere.
Smith entered the room accompanied by several others. The VP glanced at the paperwork. "I'll have my secretary make copies." The blonde from earlier appeared, gathered the papers and skirted around the three men and one woman inside the doorway. "I'd like to introduce you to your team," the exec said, and Marsha and I stood to greet them.
“Ignacio Katzman. Pleased to meet you.” The man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties extended his hand. He had a full head of curly dark brown hair, intelligent-appearing eyes to match and a prominent nose. "I’ll be your director. We were on standby for another project, but I’m actually pleased that it fell through. I'm eager to get started on yours instead.” He turned to Marsha. “You and I have much to discuss,” the director told her. “Since we're pressed for time heading to the first location, we'll need to utilize every minute we have to formulate our production plan. You’ll sit with me and the rest of the team on the plane flight."
"That would be great." My best friend’s voice bubbled with enthusiasm. "I'm grateful for the opportunity. I’ll do whatever I can to help."
The director smiled warmly. Apparently, he didn’t resent Marsha’s involvement. That was a good start, at least. As he took over the remaining introductions, I noticed the exec fading into the background yet maintaining a watchful eye. I got the impression that this first meeting represented an important audition to see how well Marsha and I would mesh with the film crew I was certain she had personally selected.
Carla Middleton, the makeup and hair artist was a statuesque black woman who might well have been a model with her gorgeous skin and striking violet eyes. I hoped she could make me look half as beautiful as she did.
In contrast, the top of Ernie College’s head fell an inch shorter than mine. The brim of the location audio tech’s 'Sounds Matters' ball cap shadowed his plain features and thick glasses.
Les Turner, the gaffer/grip would be in charge of lights and gear. He had his long grey hair in a ponytail. The fringed vest over a rainbow tie dyed shirt as well as the lines on his face marked him as vintage flower power.
They each were as friendly and enthusiastic as the director. I could feel the creative vibes zapping between them and my best friend. She was in her element, and if the circumstances that had facilitated her dream coming true had been different I would have been beaming, too. I had finally gotten something right, but the price seemed dear. RFC didn’t feel very empowering at the moment. It felt like I had relinquished control. But I couldn’t fixate on that. I had to move forward. There was no going back. And I still had a statement to record.
I SAT AT the head of the same conference table where Marsha and I had signed the contract, feeling alone even as my production team capably performed their tasks around me. My hair and makeup were perfect thanks to Carla. My voice would be crisp and clear courtesy of Ernie's microphone strategically placed by Les. And I would be confident as I read my prepared statement knowing Ignacio had seen to every detail, but more importantly because I would be staring into Marsha's supportive eyes as I spoke the words.
“My name is Raven Winters,” I began as I had rehearsed. “Many of you already know me from my viral video. I’m happy to announce that I’ve just entered into an agreement with WMO to develop the Rock Fuck Club into a reality series.” I took a deep breath before continuing.
“I’d also like to take the opportunity to refute certain allegations concerning me made by the rock rapper John Got Busted. While it’s true that I engaged in consensual sex with him as part of the Rock Fuck Club, he and his crew tried to force themselves on me afterward. In no way did I agree to what would have amounted to gang rape.” Tears filled my eyes recalling that moment of helplessness, but I forced myself to continue.
“In fact, I am planning to press charges against them.” Hopefully, that would pressure him to drop the charges against Lucky as well as prevent other women from potentially being victimized by the unscrupulous rapper.
“It is also untrue that I am in a committed relationship with Lucky Spencer, the lead singer of the Dragons.” I remember the passion between us, the genuine connection, but I had to let that go. “While I owe him and his bandmates an unrepayable debt of gratitude for rescuing me from JGB, we are not and have never been an item,” I lied, hoping that he would find it in his heart to forgive me. “Mr. Spencer is an extremely talented and undeniably sexy man, and though any woman would be thrilled to share his bed, he’s not on the Rock Fuck Club roster.” At that point, I went off script and spoke the truth from my heart. “An honorable guy like him deserves so much more than a hookup, and I hope someday he will find a woman worthy of his affection.”