“What is it?” she asked.
“Sweetpea, did you just call me ‘Dad’?”
A smile slipped over Madison’s face. She’d just called Charlie “Dad” without even thinking about it. “Yeah,” she said. “I guess I did.”
Madison’s good mood lasted for all of about fifteen minutes after arriving at the photo shoot for The Fame Game ads. Seeing Carmen perched in her chair, getting her makeup done and looking so damn nonchalant with all the primping and fussing, made Madison clench her fists in resentment. That little celebuspawn had probably had her first hair and makeup session before her first birthday. She was just so entitled.
Even worse, seeing Carmen reminded Madison of the auditions for The End of Love. That particular day had involved the sort of humiliation that Madison Parker did not want to experience again. Sure, she’d gotten a role, but it was as The Girl Who Gets Killed in the First Five Minutes. (That was really going to beef up her IMDb page, wasn’t it?) She glanced over at Carmen again: the lead. Of course they’d given that role to her. Madison had never had a chance against Carmen “My Parents Own Hollywood” Curtis, and Trevor Lord had known that when he pitted the two of them against each other.
She smiled grimly. That was probably why he called his show The Fame Game: Like in a round of poker, there were winners and there were losers. Carmen Curtis had been born with a full house, while Madison Parker had to fight for every lousy pair and bluff her way through the game.
“Madison,” Laurel called. “We need you in makeup.” She pointed to a chair to the right of the set they’d be shooting on. “Have a seat.”
Madison sighed and walked over. Normally she would have had her own team do her hair and face—she didn’t trust the PopTV people to get her look right—but she hadn’t had time because she’d been with Charlie. She’d just have to cross her fingers and hope for the best.
As some gum-popping dingbat blew out her hair, Madison watched her castmates in the mirror. Kate and Gaby were dressed and ready to go. Wardrobe had put Gaby in a chiffony coral dress, probably to hide how thin she was. Kate was wearing a little red number that was sleek without being particularly sexy. (Wouldn’t want to knock her too far out of her cargo-pant and Gap tee look!) There was an orange dress hanging on a rack for Carmen. And Madison—the star—would be wearing gold.
Trevor arrived then, flanked by two assistants. “Ladies,” he said, “are we excited or what?” He took off his sunglasses and gave Madison a wink. Madison offered him a sultry smile in return. No, she didn’t think Trevor was attractive, but he didn’t have to know that, did he?
“We’re going to shoot you against this plain backdrop,” he informed them. “And then in the posters, we’ll make it look as if you’re standing in front of the Hollywood sign. Like you’re way up above the city, looking down on it all—but you’re also standing with your heels in the dirt. It’s a study in glamorous contradictions.”
Kate nodded, wide-eyed. She was eating up his BS. Gaby wasn’t paying attention, but there was nothing unusual about that. Madison glanced over at Carmen, who was getting a final touch-up.
“I like it,” Carmen said as her makeup person dusted her cheeks with a bit of shimmery powder. “Good concept.”
Suck-up, Madison thought. Her own makeup person was lining her eyes with a smoky shadow. “Careful,” she warned. “Keep it close to the lash line. I don’t want to look like a raccoon.”
Carmen popped out of her chair and went to change into her dress. A moment later, she and Kate were over at the craft services table, picking at a giant tray of fresh fruit and laughing about something. Laurel joined them, and then all three shared some stupid giggle session.
Trevor walked over to stand behind Madison, and his eyes met hers in the mirror. “So, after the shoot, we’ll do the voice-over recording,” he said.
“Of course,” Madison said. “I’m totally prepared.”
“Great. I’m actually going to have everyone read—”
“What?” Madison interrupted.
“I’m going to have everyone read. I want to see whose voice makes the most sense—whose inflection is the most relatable.”
“You want to see whose inflection is the most relatable?” Madison repeated, aghast. “What the hell does that mean?”
Trevor gazed at her calmly. “It means I want to see who does it best,” he said.
Madison was speechless. He’d promised her the voice-over back when he’d asked her to be on the show. Whoever did the voice-over was the de facto main character—the star. The person through whose eyes the rest of the world would see Hollywood. Which meant that it had to be her.
“But Trevor,” she began.
Trevor held up a hand like he knew what she was going to say, and he didn’t want to hear it. Like he didn’t care that he was reneging on a promise. Honesty meant nothing to a TV producer.
Madison wanted to scream at him. She wanted to leap from her chair and tackle him. She wanted to tighten that ugly navy tie around his neck until he could no longer breathe. But she knew that this would get her nowhere. When he’d approached her back in June, Trevor had made it sound like The Fame Game was her show. But at the end of the day, it was always his show. And there was nothing she could do about it.
“Let’s get our pictures taken, shall we?” he said. His tone was light but his eyes were steel. They said to Madison: Do not fuck with me.
Her makeup and hair were done, so she slipped on the golden dress that wardrobe had laid out for her. It was small comfort, having the prettiest dress out of all the cast members.
Laurel positioned the girls in various groupings, and the camera shutter clicked madly.
“Kate. Remember, no smile,” the photographer told Kate at some point. “This isn’t your senior class photo.”
Madison snickered and Carmen shot her a look. Madison reciprocated. Pretty soon the two of them were all-out glaring at each other.
“I like that,” Trevor called. “Does it play?”
The photographer shook his head. “It makes their eyes look small. Come on, girls, think beautiful thoughts. They will make you look beautiful.”
After a few more minutes, Laurel hustled up and rearranged them: Madison and Carmen standing back to back, arms crossed in the center. Then Gaby on one side and Kate on the other.
“Love it, Carmen. Awesome, Kate,” Laurel said. “Gaby, can you try to move your face a little bit? Madison, can you look a little more alive?”
More alive? What was she talking about? Madison was a pro at this. She’d been at more photo shoots than that little troll would ever be. She stood up straighter and gave the camera her best look: a mix of sultriness and defiance.
“Mmm,” Laurel said, sounding less than thrilled. She was drinking from that stupid travel mug again.
Madison repositioned herself slightly. She was still staring right into the camera lens, but now she was gazing down her nose at it. The look was meant to say: I am the shit and don’t you forget it. The shutters clicked. The lights were hot and Madison felt a touch of perspiration on her lip. Within seconds someone yelled, “Shine! Can someone powder Madison?” and the makeup assistant was patting her face.
“My feet hurt,” Gaby whispered.
“Smile through it,” Madison said. “It’s the only way.”
The photographer called for a break—all the girls needed a makeup touch-up—and Madison watched as Laurel fluttered right over to Carmen and Kate, smiling. When did they get to be such besties? Madison wondered resentfully. She never thought she’d miss having Dana around, but now she did. Dana was always stressed and