When Stars Collide

When Stars Collide

Keep breathing. Deep breaths. In for 5. Hold. Out for 10. Or is it in for 10, out for 5? Dammit.

I can hear them in there. Polite platitudes, self assured laughter, casual indifference. But they’re waiting for me. Watching my every move for any sign of weakness. Any little oddity which might give me away. Panic tightens its grip around my windpipe and adrenalin shoots through my body, zapping my veins like tiny bolts of electricity. For a brief moment I contemplate ways to escape. But running away isn’t an option. 

Calm down. They’ve come to see you.You’re in control. Not them.

I raise my hand to the door knob and turn it slowly, trying to control my trembling fingers.  But when I release the handle, I notice my clammy palm has left a smear of sweat on the polished surface. A dead giveaway. I can’t turn back now, so I hastily wipe the offending palm down the length of my sparkly thigh. With one push of the door, the safe hum of murmurs explodes into a raucous din of shrill laughter and chinking glasses.

A beam of light aims straight at me. The glare burns into the back of my eyeballs and I wince. The assault leaves me gasping for breath, but none will come. The light is too dazzling. The noise is too deafening. I’ve done this a thousand times and it comes with the territory, but I’ll never get used to it. I steady myself and think of the money. I toss my head back, assume ‘the pose’ and wait. 

Silence descends. All faces turn towards me. I realise I’m not breathing. I’m rooted to the spot. I want to run. I want to die. A sudden crash of applause hits my ears. Cheers and whistles buzz through my skull. A glass is thrust into my hand. I grip it. I breathe. I smile.

“Always remember to work the room baby” 

My mother taught me from an early age. And that’s what I do. I glide through the crowds as easily as a warm knife slicing through butter. People ebb and flow at my will. I talk. I laugh. I kiss cheeks and air. But all the time, I grip my glass and every nerve in my body is directed onto that narrow fragile glassy stem.

Then I see her, standing coolly amongst the tuxedos and diamonds. Familiar blue eyes glittering with more sparkle than the chandeliers above us. She’s staring right at me. ME. I catch my breath and the sudden inhalation of air only dries my mouth more. A slight smile is fixed at the corners of her mouth. Red glossy lipstick bleeds into the fine crevices which criss cross her delicately powdered face. The smile. My fingers tighten, the stem snaps. 

Suddenly, from nowhere, there are waiters and cloths and no end of unbidden help. A fresh glass is produced and I look around me, assuming my ‘gracious smile’. There’s no need for apologies. I never make those.

She is still there watching me. Although I laugh and talk, my heart is pounding. Those eyes. The eyes that so many have fallen in love with. That have seen through every fawning gesture of undying adoration. She can see straight into my heart. She sees my fear and she knows my secret; I’m a fake. I don’t deserve my success. How could I ever hope to be like her? Everything about her is perfect truth and everything about me is a lie. A sham. I feel my chest tighten but I continue to gradually work the room, until finally, I’m face to face with the woman I desperately want to be.

  *****

I wish I hadn’t come tonight. I’m too old for these things. I’ve been doing it all my life and these people bore me. But I had to come. I had to see her. I need to talk to her.

As I stand idly enduring the banal chatter of the idiots around me, the expectant atmosphere in the hall suddenly shifts up a notch. The great doors above us swing open and there she is, bathed in a spotlight. She looks as though she’s been beamed down from heaven. She smiles radiantly and applause erupts throughout her audience.

The perfect picture of calm, gentle beauty, she floats gracefully down the staircase, warmly greeting everyone and ignoring no one.

When she reaches the bottom, for one brief moment, her eyes meet mine. My heart leaps. Did she recognise me? Of course not – how would she? Nobody recognises me anymore. 

Then some idiot knocks over her glass. A crowd of overly concerned sycophants dab at her with serviettes. I watch her with envy as she doesn’t flinch and manages to thank every moron who dashed to her aid.

She begins to circulate and I continue to track her around the hall until she disappears, swallowed into a crowd of gabbling fools. The sun has gone in. The room plunges into darkness. I search around, desperately hoping I’ll see her again. I’m acutely aware that all around me people are doing the same thing – frantically falling over themselves to get their piece of her. Just like they did with me. Once. But I never deserved it. Not like her. I didn’t deserve any of the glory which was showered on me. People were too blinded by my flawless beauty to realise I had no talent. A Goddess they called me. The ice queen with the Mona Lisa smile – mysterious and deep. The thinking man’s woman. I marvelled at their stupidity. There was no mystery beneath that smile, no hidden depths – just a shallow, terrified girl, desperate to be good at something. Not like her. She has it. And she doesn’t even have to try. How I wish I could have had one fraction of her talent.

She bobs up once more amongst a new group and the room is alive once more.

Then suddenly she’s there, right in front of me. My heart is pounding. She is calm and serene, but I notice her cheeks are a little flushed. She smiles at me. Her eyes are glistening and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear she looks excited.

“Dame Hilary?” She offers her beautifully manicured hand. “It’s such an honour to meet you. I adore your work. I watched all your movies over and over again when I was a girl. I still do. You’re my inspiration”

Trembling fingers touch and clammy palms press together. Eyes meet. Smiles are exchanged and in an instant, everything is clear.

Two women are suddenly locked in a warm embrace, safe in the knowledge that they share a secret the rest of the world will never know.