In Her Arms (Indigo Lounge #4)

7. Cameron

7

CAMERON

A few days passed, both working and non-working, the latter much rarer. On one of these non-working days, Cameron found herself sitting on the sofa in her living room. White-walled and sparsely decorated, she used the small apartment as a base of operations more than anything else. She was constantly worried about having to move on, an old habit from previous living situations. Now, it felt a little bit silly since she knew her housing was secure. Still, she thought, it didn’t hurt to be ready. Whenever she brought somebody home, she would normally tell them she was a minimalist, which she guessed was technically true. The sofa was a plush black leather three-seater, and Cameron could comfortably stretch her legs across it, her back supported by a cushion as she scrolled through the internet on her laptop.

She genuinely did not know what to do with herself. Outside of work, she had very little to do other than waste time, so she tried to waste time. She was nearly always too tired to go out, and in a way, it was really unusual that she hadn’t had sex in a while. Well, she hadn’t had sex in a while until Goldie.

Her mind filled with questions about what had happened, but she decided to just take it for what it was. Goldie was a star. An icon. She was drop-dead gorgeous and a total pain in the ass. She could get whoever she wanted whenever she wanted, so Cameron knew it wouldn’t mean anything to her, surely?

Cameron scrolled through a celebrity gossip forum, a development of her late-night talk show habit. She always felt a little guilty checking the forums, but the drama called to her with a siren’s song of nosy information. She loved it.

Reading an anonymous confession about Goldie’s co-star Leon, Cameron couldn’t help but feel like she was becoming a little obsessed with Goldie’s presence. Sure, she was contractually obligated to stay attached at her hip unless Goldie needed something or it was Cameron’s day off, but she found herself thinking about the little glimpses of the actual Goldie she had gotten to know through cracks in what she now knew was a veneer of rudeness. Goldie’s last assistant hadn’t been able to deal with her attitude, and in all honesty, Cameron couldn’t blame him. Then again, he had almost certainly never gone down on her. That probably made her a little biased.

At least Goldie wasn’t as rude as some of the people on these websites, she thought. People were truly horrible about Goldie on some pages, even on pages that were supposedly about uplifting women in film. Her appearances, her prior roles, and the few parts of her personal life that were online were torn to shreds. People did not hold the same contempt for internationally beloved man-of-the-decade Leon. Women and men alike talked about how much they admired him, wanted to date and have sex with him, and respected his craft. She wished Goldie would get the same recognition. She deserved it.

She knew she had a very limited understanding of how fame worked. Sure, Cameron was popular—some might say infamous—but she wasn’t having her every move scrutinized on social media or by gossip rags. Guiltily, she stopped reading, switching to another website. She was getting too close to Goldie to enjoy those kinds of things anymore.

She had been shocked when she first met Goldie, not by her ego or entitlement but by how abrasive she had been. Goldie’s attitude toward her had been defensive, she had come to realize. Defending herself from Cameron and the threat she might have posed to her reputation. She thought for the first time that Goldie may have been trying to scare her off.

The idea cut her train of thought short. Goldie wasn’t out, she knew that, and it didn’t align with her public persona. It made sense that the isolation of that experience would lead to some...unusual methods of flagging.

Still, Cameron supposed, she had understood the signal.

As if on cue, her phone buzzed. She felt a warm affection spread through her when she read the caller ID and saw Esme’s name. The photo was a selfie of the two of them taken years prior. Esme wanted to have an actual photo of her pop up instead of the little default gray icon. Cameron and Esme had spent about twenty minutes trying to take a photo that they both liked, and eventually they were laughing too hard to continue.

She answered the call. Esme was at the Lounge, and if the noise and general business of the background was any indication, it was busy. Cameron could hardly hear her when she said, “You around for a couple of hours tonight?”

She said a loud “yes,” hoping Esme could hear her.

“Okay, fantastic! Can you be here at seven? Mia’s home from tour and is doing a little set, but word has gotten out in whatever musical whisper networks there are in L.A. because we are swamped. The new kids are awesome, holding up for now, but I’m gonna need you here tonight.”

She didn’t need to ask twice. Cameron pulled on a sweater over her shirt and threw on a pair of comfortable sneakers. Locking the door behind her, she set off for the Indigo Lounge, knowing she would probably not be returning home again until early that morning.

The walk to the Indigo Lounge was short and pleasant. The heat of the day had subsided and become more humid than anything else. She ended up taking her sweater off midway through the walk, alone with her thoughts without earbuds. She was looking forward to this. Whenever Mia was in town, people came in droves and the atmosphere was always electric. As she approached the Lounge, she could see people excitedly walking in groups, some wearing t-shirts with Mia’s face on them.

By the time she arrived, Cameron nearly couldn’t make it through the front door and had to squeeze her way through the crowd. When she made it to the bar, she saw the new workers were quite literally red in the face. They seemed grateful for the extra help, and together, the four of them managed to tend the bar at a reasonable pace until Mia arrived. Cameron couldn’t see Mia get on stage, of course, with all of the people around, but she sure did hear her. The crowd was deafening and energized for Mia’s set. This also left the bar mostly empty. She sent two of the bar workers on their breaks, knowing Esme would not only not mind but be relieved that they were getting some rest.

Speaking of Esme, she appeared from around a corner and came over to Cameron, ducking behind the bar to give her a hug.

“Thank you so much for coming Cam. You really have no idea how much you’ve helped.”

“Anytime, Esme. I’ve missed being here.”

This was the satisfaction Cameron normally got out of work. Being able to tell, physically tell, when she had done her job and done it well. It helped that she had worked so many odd jobs in the past. Being a Jack-of-all-trades was incredibly useful, Cameron thought. Most skills, even half-learned, could prove to be useful in some capacity. She could see it on the regulars’ faces, too, they were happy to have her back again. This was community. This was satisfaction.

The evening went on, and finally, the last of the patrons exited the building.

“We haven’t had that kind of crowd in months,” Esme said, spraying down the countertop with a citrus-scented cleaner. Harper beamed with pride, leaning over to kiss Mia on the cheek.

“What can I say? She knows how to keep a crowd’s attention!” said Harpe.

“It’s so good to be home after so much traveling. I love performing, but I also like being able to get some time off. Not that I wasn’t grateful for the company while traveling, baby, but I’m happy to be here.” Mia sighed.

Cameron was a little jealous. Mia was able to balance fame with a relationship that had initially started out as an illicit affair with her agent and had turned into a beautiful, long-term relationship. Meanwhile Cameron could barely find somebody to hold hands with. The open affection between them was adorable to her, but in a way that she understood to be just aesthetic. She wouldn’t be comfortable being kissed on the cheek in public, even in front of her friends, without some serious exposure therapy.

She thought about what it might be like bringing Goldie to the Lounge. It felt a little bit like taking a girlfriend home to meet her parents the more she thought about it, but she supposed that the comparison wasn’t out of the blue.

“How do you two manage to not like...kill each other? Sharing a space that small, I mean, that’s gotta be tough, especially when there’s that fear of being watched.”

The two women laughed.

“It’s been tough, absolutely. Especially near the beginning, if one person has a professional reputation to keep up.” At this, Mia nudged Harper, who rolled her eyes fondly. “It can be difficult to agree on what the priorities are, especially when a person might put up a mask.”

“Like being rude for no reason?” Cameron suggested.

She felt Esme look at her sideways but tried her best to ignore it. It was Harper who jumped in this time.

“Absolutely! People will refuse to cooperate professionally for the most stupid reasons, often just to protect their own ego. You know, I’ll give you an example. The other day, Deb calls me and she’s really fucking stressed. I ask her what’s wrong, and she tells me that a lead actor on one of the shows she’s producing had been so rude to her assistant that he walked off set! Don’t get me wrong, not exactly uncommon, but still. They had to hire a new person last minute. Yeah, I can’t tell you who the actress is, but behind the scenes, she’s said to have a real temper, super inconsiderate.”

Cameron nodded along, pretending like this was celebrity gossip instead of her actual life experience. She wasn’t surprised that people knew Goldie was like this. In an industry like entertainment, reputation was everything. Word traveled quickly.

Later that night, when Cameron arrived home, she called Deborah. Well, she tried to call Deborah. She didn’t pick up the phone, so after two missed calls, Cameron decided to leave her a voicemail.

“Hey, Deb, it’s Cam here. If you’re around for a quick call during the week, let me know. I know you’re busy, but there’s something I want to talk to you about.”