The life of a Royal is pretty sweet, I have to say.  Breakfast in bed, servants to beat the band and a life of leisure--- After breakfast, a shower and a change of clothes, I was luxuriating in the embassy gardens drinking tea and reading on my phone.  It was heaven, until the phone rang.  Travis was calling.  I assumed the tabloids finally made their way to his desk.

“Hey, Travis,” I greeted.

“What the fuck, Savannah?!  What the fuck?!”

“Calm down,” I said.

“You calm the fuck down!  You’re pregnant?  Are you pregnant?!  You’d better tell me, or I swear to God, I’ll have someone break into your doctor’s office to find out for sure.  We can fix fat, but we can’t fix pregnant!”

“Okay, I’m pregnant,” I admitted.  “It was an accident.”

“You stupid bitch!” he ranted.  “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!  Do you have any idea?!”

“We used protection and it failed, it was like a two percent chance,” I said.  “Calm down, just push production back nine months.”

“Nine months?!  The studio will never push it back that far back!  We are fucked, Savannah.  You fucked me!  Although I guess you didn’t actually fuck me, since I know the baby’s not mine.”

Travis was losing it.  It wasn’t uncommon in Hollywood.  We were all artists.  We all had our breaking points. 

“I honestly didn’t want this to happen, Travis!” I snapped.  “Now grow the fuck up!  Do you think I wanted to wreck your movie on purpose?!”

“I think you’re an irresponsible, reckless slut that opens her legs for anyone, apparently!”

“Whoa!  You’re out of line, Travis!  If anyone’s a hack, it’s you!  I’ve seen that piece of shit vampire movie you directed!”

“Yeah!  Another movie where I got fucked by my lead.  Only with her, it was a drug problem.  You’re supposed to be kicking ass!  Not sporting a baby belly!”

“If you can hide the fat, you can hide the belly!”

“Spoken like a true actress who doesn’t know shit.  We can’t smash up your baby inside a corset!  Or else, the bastard will be as dumb as you!”

“Fuck you, Travis!  You stupid pig!  The studio only made this movie because of the video game.  You think they really care about the script you shat out?!”

“Oh, wow!  Oh, wow!  The truth comes out, huh?!”

“Yeah!  You know I worked on this movie for money, not the joy of working for a guy whose last movie sold fewer tickets than he has I.Q. points!”

“Listen to who is calling my movies bad!” he laughed.  “Your movies are so stupid, they’re an insult to stupid people.  Duh!  Look at my breasts!  I’m a bimbo who can barely act and slept with the casting director.”

“Yeah, your movie’s a piece of shit!  It’s trite!  The dialogue is stupid, the plot makes no sense---  It’s just an excuse to get screen time with my bare naked tits which apparently have to carry the whole God damned movie!”

“You think you had no dialogue before this phone call?!  Wait until you get the rewrite!  You’ll be lucky if you’re in a scene and credited as an extra when I’m through with it!”

“Go ahead!  Then explain to the studio why they paid all that money not to see my tits!  You fucking idiot!  Just put a table in front of me for a few scenes.”

“We can’t do that for every scene!  You’re supposed to be an action star!”

“Rewrite it so I’m pregnant then.”

“You can’t be pregnant and be an action star!” screamed Travis.  “I don’t even know if there’s a legal liability to do the stunts!”

“You can always switch me out with the stunt double.”

“What is this?  Old Star Trek?” he snapped.  “As usual, you don’t know what you’re talking about.  I can’t have you with a baby bump in one shot and nothing in the next.  Do you even know how movies work, you stupid bitch?!”

“I know more than you, you piece of shit!  I’ll bet I can shoot it!”

“Oh, yeah!  That’s just what the studio wants,” he said sarcastically.  “A first time director managing a $200 million dollar fiasco!” he snapped.  “If I have any pull left in this town, I’m going to use it to make sure you never work again!”

“Go ahead!  Being in one of your movies is practically the same thing!” I countered.  “Maybe this way, I won’t have to say your stupid dialogue and your stupid off color jokes, while listening to your idiotic direction!”

“Here’s a direction!  Go to hell, Savannah!”

He hung up.  I had had it with Travis.  You want to talk about a self-centered narcissist, then he was the poster boy for it.  Not only did I have to audition for that idiot five times to get the part, he sends me a “final” draft of the script and just as I’m done memorizing it, he sends a completely new script!  He had no respect for the artistic process at all.  Screw it!  I’m glad to be rid of him!

As was typical, ten minutes later, my agent, Ronnie called.

“Hey, Ronnie,” I greeted.  “Don’t hate me, okay?”

“What did you do, Savannah?” she said.  “Travis just chewed me out over the phone.  He’s threatened to fire you and all my other clients.  This is bad, babe.  Real bad.  What happened?”

“I got pregnant,” I said.  “It was an accident.”

“Okay, good, I can spin that,” she said, immediately working the angle.  “Who’s the father?”

“Um, I’m working on finding that out.”

“Are you kidding?  Babe, you have to find the father.  I can’t spin this without some facts.  Who are the potential candidates?”

“I guess you didn’t see the tabloids…”

“No, I’m looking now and---  Holy shit, is that a prince?”

“Yes,” I said proudly.

“Well, if you were going to get knocked up, I’d definitely choose him,” she laughed.  “Who’s the other guy?  Not your gardener, I hope.”

“No, he’s another prince,” I said.  “It’s definitely going to be a prince either way.”

“Well, it looks like you have a fall back if your career goes south,” she laughed. 

“Do you think the studio will let Travis fire me?”

“Hmmm, I don’t know,” she mused.  “They really liked you for this role but shooting around your pregnancy would be tough and mildly dangerous.  No, if Travis has any say, but his star is on the wane.  Yours is on the rise.  We’ll see who wins out.”

“Youth before age,” I said.  “I like those odds.”

“Yeah, in this town,” she agreed.  “Just don’t do anything until I call, okay?  Lay low.  Don’t let anyone see you.  Think you can stand a few days with the trainer?”

“I kinda have to stay in the embassy until this paternity test is done,” I said.  “I want to know the second I can.”

“Right, we can plan from there,” she agreed.  “Okay, kid, stay well until then.  I’ll hit you up if I hear anything.”

“Thanks.”

I went back to reading the Internet for a short time, but I started tearing up.  This is exactly what I feared.  My whole career could be dead now.  I’ll be kicked off the top tier and reduced to playing “the mom” in TV-movies-of-the-week on the Hallmark Channel.  Dammit!  I worked too hard to be a movie star!

At the very least, I would be comfortable.  Perhaps I could get one of them to produce a movie.  Something where I could really act and not have to get naked just to sell some tickets.  Something that wasn’t based on a video game or a YouTube video!

I flipped through the websites and social media.  The Internet was abuzz and we were trending on Google.  Maybe the exposure would outweigh the trouble.  Maybe the studio will just figure I’m far too famous to fire now.  Single mother and all---  There’s some sympathy there.

I tried to call Naomi, but she didn’t answer.  I hoped at least she was keeping her mouth shut.  She was my best friend, but she had a way of blabbing important stuff to the wrong people sometimes.  I needed someone to talk to.  Someone that I could relate to or would understand the situation.

After a few minutes of trying to read, I couldn’t sit still anymore.  I had to talk to someone.  I found Dominique’s room, but he wasn’t there.  I walked to the other wing where I found Byron’s room.  It had vaulted ceilings with columns and paintings that went up and across the ceiling.  It was like living inside an antique.  Maybe Byron could lend an ear.  He was pretty upset the last time I saw him, but---  He had a stake in this too.