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Laurel leaned against the wall of the elevator as the doors closed. Tony rubbed the back of his neck shaking his head. “That Lola is a crazy bat.”
“No crap Sherlock.” Laurel snapped as the elevator started to descend. “Did Damian tell you anything about her?”
Tony shook his head. “Only the fact she has been trying to seduce him daily. He has told her many times he wasn’t interested in her but she continued to make advances. Poor Lad has a super crush on his neighbor’s daughter and he’s stuck pretending to date a Bloke that should be locked up in a psych ward.”
Laurel knew this couple was a mistake. They were completely mismatched as far as interests go. Lola was a model who would party like it was a morning routine and Damian was a Pop star who had more success than anyone before him. In her mind, she thought of this less like a job and more as if she was a parent...something she had to stop thinking about.
“If you ask me, I would make them break up. He deserves to just live his life doing what he does.” Tony stated sighing as if he had a long day of moving heavy furniture. But he was right. This job wasn’t like the previous ones which involved easy Public Relation tactics, what Laurel did was help a couple of young stars fake a relationship so they could easily make more money and get more fame.
He couldn’t blame Laurel because if Damian had hired her she would’ve forced them to break up publicly and spun it so that Damian would be the good guy.
“Yeah well this is all the work of Jordan Monroe.” Laurel’s tone sounded as if the name was like venom in her mouth.
The elevator slowed down and stopped in the lobby of the hotel. This shocked the duo as they were pretty sure the ride down was a lot faster than the ride up. The doors opened and Laurel walked out unto the lobby.
“Magnificent job Quinn!” A voice called out causing every hair on Laurel’s neck to stand.
“Say the Devil’s name and he appears.” She stated causing Tony to chuckle.
Walking towards them was a tall older man with silver dyed hair wearing a very tight suit. His face had not one wrinkle which didn’t shock Laurel because while he is Forty Nine years old, the man gets Botox injected into his face more times than a baby burps.
“I saw the interview and I am beyond pleased at your work. Those kids are more convincing than celebrities when it comes to their charity work.” Jordan waited for Laurel or Tony to laugh but none did and he cleared his throat.
“When was the last time you spoke to Damian? He doesn’t want to be in a relationship with her. Fake or not.”
“He told you that?”
“He didn’t have to. The poor kid just wants to tour the world and get felt up by fan girls looking for something to tell their friends. He can’t do that if he’s dating Ms. Psychopath.”
Jordan’s face grew stern-well at least that’s what Laurel thought, it was hard to tell from looking at him.
“Lola is the top selling Model in Mexico and I know she can hit the US market and be on magazines.”
Laurel rubbed her forehead in frustration at the man who saw dollar signs rather than anything of importance. “You would honestly have both your clients be in a miserable relationship just so that you could cash in on them?”
“Let me tell you something Quinn. Damian got famous because of me. I uploaded that video of him singing in that cardboard box, I dubbed him the Homeless Singing Kid. He was never homeless, or even miserable with his life. He’s a friend’s kid that I promised to make famous. The public ate that crap up and now they’ll eat this up making Lola a star and me a billionaire.”
“And you think playing Devil’s Advocate is worth billions of dollars on the unhappiness of your first client?”
Jordan didn’t need to think about the question because it was obviously true. “Don’t pretend that what you do is nobler than what I do. You and I turn scraps of garbage into these beautiful and perfect illusions that Hollywood and the idiots who worship these people eat up. Yes Damian is miserable. Yes Lola is a beautiful psychopath. But at the end of the day does any of that matter when they’re making millions every hour?”
Jordan combed his fingers through his silver hair and he lowered his voice so none of the hotel staffers could hear the words he was saying. “Everyone sells their souls to make it in this industry and only the strong survives. Damian and Lola are both strong kids who will leave their legacy in this God Damn city and if you think-“
CRAAAAASSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Jordan’s words were cut short by a loud crashing sound that came from outside. The trio heard screams of horror erupt from the fans and photographers who were still camped out.
“What the hell was that?” Laurel asked and she began to walk towards the entrance of the hotel with Tony and Jordan following her. She pushed the hotel doors open and a scene of chaos ensued. Fans covered their eyes as they cried and screamed in horror, paparazzi took out their cameras and quickly took pictures of the dramatic scene as fast as they could, similar to sharks in a tank that were given a live seal to devour.
Laurel pushed through the crowd and she felt the world around her slow down as she saw what was causing the scene. On the curb of the hotel was a parked Red Sports car and on the car was the dead body of Damian Marx. He was bloodied, bruised and staring lifelessly at the beautiful clear sky.
Tony couldn’t believe what he was looking at. The young man he was just speaking to an hour ago, the same young man that was telling him about how he hoped to make a Christmas album in memory of his mother; was now dead.
The chaotic scene looked like something out of a movie. Inconsolable fans shocked, disgusted and sadden by the loss of their idol, hotel staffers scrambling and calling the ambulance and Jordan paralyzed and unable to move.
Laurel stepped closer to the car and she didn’t say anything. For a moment no thoughts crossed her mind at the tragic scene. This could’ve been avoided- it should’ve been avoided if Jordan had decided to do the right thing and focus on Damian. But it was too late now, too late to blame someone, too late to think of possible outcomes and most importantly; too late to feel guilty.
Laurel turned around and glanced up the thirty six floors above her. She could see a figure looking down, a figure wearing a floral green dress watching the aftermath of what she just did.
Lola wanted to make a name for herself and to expand her portfolio here in San New. Unfortunately instead of being known as‘The Beautiful Supermodel Lola Ferrari’, she will now be known as ‘Lola Ferrari, Number One Suspect In The Death of Damian Marx’. At the end of the day, Lola got exactly what she wanted; fame.
[End]