It Was All An Act

“Cut!”

Before the director’s mouth had fully closed, Alura violently shoved her co-star, shattering their fabricated, heartfelt embrace.

Alec Sharpe jumped back, nearly tripping over a prop stool.

The camera crew maintained their usual poker face, turning their curious eyes towards the six-foot-two heartthrob.

“Was that necessary?” he whispered through gritted teeth.

Alura’s wide-eyed, innocent stare shifted into that of a hungry rattlesnake.

“I told you we were doing my idea and you ignored me.” 

She smirked, her large, plump lips stretching wide. It could’ve been mistaken for a friendly smile, if you didn’t know who you were dealing with.

Reed Wills, a seasoned director, chuckled.

“She’s right, collaboration is the key to success!” 

Alec glared at them.

“Unbelievable! Seriously, why-”

The starlet placed her freshly manicured hands delicately on her curvy hips and pivoted towards her dressing room. 

The sound of America’s lead man complaining about her made her giggle with satisfaction.

This was the casual life of Alura Raine, though she had achieved that special level of stardom to now be known only by her first name.

She paused in front of a heavy wooden door, stained a chestnut-stained mahogany and engraved directly with her initials.

“AMELIA!” she screeched.

The short, nervous girl came running up hastily behind her, out of breath.

“Hi Alura.” 

She waved with the hand holding her little spiral notepad decorated with kitten stickers.

The starlet scowled.

“Why is my dressing room not prepared?” she spat.

Amelia blinked rapidly through her circular frames.

She carefully took a step in front of her boss, turning the doorknob with a shaky hand.

Rows of crystal bulbs lit the spacious room from above with a warm, ambient lighting guaranteed to give Alura the perfect selfie every time. 

The walls were freshly repainted in cream with gilded accents and resting atop her fur carpet was a matching couch the color of wheat with gold detailing.

Alura saw this space as her ambiance. Amelia saw it as a horror to clean.

“Everything is ready, I was just waiting for you to finish-”

“Yeah, I don’t really care,” Alura said coldly.

The timid assistant spent the next hour practicing lines with Alura, watching anxiously as she ripped open PR packages stuffed with high-end cosmetics, proceeding to dump them carelessly onto her silk throw. 

“You know, you would make a pretty decent actress,” Alura mused.

Amelia beamed. 

“Thank you, Alura!”

She had no idea what this meant to her.

Alura shot her a syrupy sweet smile.

“I bet if you were born to a wealthy family, got a LOT of work done, and learned how to dress yourself, you could have stood a chance.”

Amelia sighed.

Finally, the clock hit six pm, time to leave the studio.

“Remember, you have to walk off the set with Alec today, as per your contract,” Amelia reminded her, checking something off in her notebook.

“Whatever,” Alura sighed, click-clacking her little black heels towards Alec’s dressing room.

For the next three hours of Alura’s day, paparazzi “accidentally” stumbled upon her handing out groceries to the homeless, and caught her having a deep, heartfelt conversation with a fan; the young eager girl was camping out in front of the Crown Hotel where Alura had been living since she began filming.

Conveniently, paparazzi had missed her throwing over a planter because “it had an odd number of daisies in it,” ripping up a large stack of fan mail that had been collected from her PO Box, and the big one of the day: kicking a bodega cat because it was “ugly.”

Amelia continued to subtly mark off her checklist to make sure she hadn’t missed anything.

“Your appearance on Good Morning World is tomorrow at seven, so Stevie and Marlo will be there at four to get you ready,” she reminded.

Alura, busy staring at a newsstand with magazines covered in her face, hummed a disinterested “Mmm Hmm.”

The following day, Alura’s interview went exactly as planned. The actress flounced onto the set in a little red dress, which perfectly complimented her big, honey-blonde curls. 

She embraced each host in a warm, floral hug and laughed with them about silly topics like trying to wake up early, and how cute her dog was when he wanted her to take him for a walk.

Too bad they didn’t know her dog was rented.

At one point, Alura’s bodyguard, Randy, was called up on stage to talk about what a pleasure it was to work for such a talented, lovely young woman.

Once the moon was visible in the sky, Randy and Amelia dropped off Alura in front of her penthouse door.

“We’ll be over around ten tomorrow, enjoy your night!” Amelia said cheerfully.

Randy just blinked, stoic as marble.

Alura rolled her eyes, slamming the door in their face.

Once inside the penthouse, she stripped bare and slipped into a brand new robe made of pink satin, chucking the personalized note from the designer onto the floor.

Making her way to the crushed obsidian velvet couch, she whipped out her phone and hungirly started searching her name online.

Should Harley Blue Have Been Cast in “Loving You Blindly” Instead of Alura?

Alura Copies Harley Blue’s Little Red Dress For Talk Show Interview

Is Alec Sharpe Leaving Alura For Harley Blue?

Alura slammed her phone down on the couch angrily. 

“What does anyone see in that gothic-looking nepotism baby?” she growled.

She contemplated texting some well-connected friends in the industry to see if they could go out next week. That would quell some of these rumors. 

As she picked up her phone, a new text alert flashed.

A little birdy told me you’ve been bad

From, Unknown. 

Alura cackled.

“OooOOoh!”

Her finger hovered over the delete button, but just then, another text came through.

See for yourself-

A video emerged underneath. Alura would have had enough common sense not to click the link, if she hadn’t seen the thumbnail.

She watched the video once, then twice, then three more times, frozen in place.

Her green eyes darkened like they were about to flood with tears.

“How the hell did they get this?!” she breathed.

Her fear suddenly metamorphosed into anger and she started typing furiously.

Delete this video immediately and forget my number, or my lawyers will be contacting you.

The texter responded almost instantly.

By then it’ll be too late, your reputation will be in shambles. 

Rabidly, she tapped Call, her frenzied fingers starting to shake. 

A busy signal blared through, almost mocking her.

“Too scared to talk to me, huh?!” she shouted at the screen.

No sooner than she had said these words, did a piercing ring erupt from the phone. 

The noise jolted her. She threw the device back onto the couch, staring nervously, before picking up on the last ring.

“What do you want? Money?” she asked.

The voice that answered was deep and robotic, masked by some sort of computer interference.

“You have three days to announce your retirement, or I’ll make sure the world knows exactly who you are,” the colorless voice drawled.

Alura rolled her eyes.

“At the peak of my career? No, I’ll be calling the police instead.”

“Go ahead, the video will be leaked before they find my IP address. And you’ll be ruined,” the voice stated smugly.

“So what, either way I lose? I don’t think so.”

It ignored her, drumming on in the unsettling dull tone.

“You have three days to publicly announce your retirement. I don’t care if it’s on social media, or at one of your high profile events. Don’t tell anyone about this. I’ll know if you do. You never know who’s watching.” 

“Who the hell is this?”

The call went silent.

Just for a second, there was a rustling sound in the other room and she whipped her head around manically, but everything lay still.

Alura looked harrowed for a moment, then regained her usual composure.

“Just relax, they’re trying to scare you. It’s a stupid prank, I’m sure I can have someone wipe the video off the face of the Earth. I’m Alura Raine,” she reminded herself as she ran hot water into the large, porcelain clawfoot tub.

She sank down into the steam, her long legs delicately crossed atop the surface of the water.

Suddenly, everything went black.

Alura screamed, her unsteady hands gripping the edge of the tub to pull herself up. She stumbled onto the floor, hitting her knee against the chair.

And then, the room lit up again, looking as still as before.

Alura looked down.

The water in the tub was cherry red, splattered everywhere. Crimson droplets decorated her skin, dripping like blood onto the marble floor. She scanned her body. Nothing wounds, only a small bruise forming where she had banged her knee.

Then she noticed something floating above the water, the remnants of a bath bomb. She grabbed it, staining her hands with vermillion pigment, and noticed a piece of paper sticking out. 

I’M WATCHING YOU

Alura let out an ear piercing scream.

END OF DAY ONE

Alura’s staff were surprised to find her penthouse empty the next morning, and further surprised that she had chosen to downgrade to a suite closer to the hotel entrance.

“It was much cozier,” she said with a sweet grin.

But something was off, and Amelia noticed it right away.

The starlet’s usually glowing complexion seemed a bit duller, and she had dark bags underneath her eyes. 

Even her usually glossy hair was lackluster, sticking up in random spots.

Amelia cleared her throat.

“Alura, um, I was informed of your…incident last night.”

Alura’s head snapped up.

“You were?” she asked inquisitively.

Amelia nodded carefully.

“Yes, and I just wanted to apologize. I had no idea we had sent over red bath bombs for your hotel, that must have been very scary.”

She waited for Alura’s usual temper tantrum over her occasional slip-ups, but instead, she stood still.

“That’s alright,” she answered calmly, “I’m just embarrassed.”

Alura’s face was glued to her phone the entire morning, and she almost tripped walking onto set.

“Looks like sleeping beauty woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Alec chastised.

Alura glared at him, but remained silent.

 What if it was him? 

She looked around. It could be anyone. Someone knew her secret.

From the other side of the room, she thought she saw something move, and her eyes quickly fixated on the darkness.

“Alura.”

She reluctantly turned back to the set.

“I really need your attention, we’re going to start filming now,” Reed said, in the soft, yet urgent tone he often took with her.

She tried to flash him her usual blinding smile, but her mouth faltered and it turned into a grimace.

Alura snapped into character, grabbing Alec’s hands passionately.

“My love, I really missed you. Do you really have to leave for France next week?”

Alec pulled her closer, his eyes burning into hers. 

“I don’t want to leave you again,” he whispered, then reluctantly pulled away.

“What is it?” Alura asked, tears pricking her emerald eyes.

Alec opened his mouth to answer, when suddenly, something came plummeting down from the ceiling and landed between them with a large crash. 

It had just missed Alura’s stretched out arm, and she jumped back in horror.

“Cut, CUT!” Reed called, dashing onto set with a few crewmembers. 

“Looks like one of the lighting fixtures had a missing bolt,” the tech crew called from above.

Amelia dashed over.

“Alura, are you alright?” she called, waving a hand in front of her face.

Alura stood staring at the fixture on the ground. 

Her body felt heavy, like she would topple over if she moved.

“Let’s get her out of here, bring her to her dressing room,” Reed ordered, “I’ll send for the paramedics.”

Alec rolled his eyes.

“What a drama queen,” he snickered, brushing dust from the fixture off of his costume.

Alura sat in her dressing room, suddenly feeling like the walls were closing in on her.

 “You’re set to receive an award at the Oscars tomorrow. Someone on the judge’s panel tipped me off. Do you want me to cancel your appearance?” Amelia asked quietly.

Alura was frozen, but managed to let the word escape her mouth.

“No.”

END OF DAY TWO

The third day had arrived. Alura had pulled an all-nighter, watching the room and weighing her options.

She dressed herself in a large, crumpled white t-shirt, gray sweatpants, and slides. She didn’t bother checking her face or hair in the mirror. She knew she looked horrible.

Her thoughts were solidified by Amelia’s less-than-subtle gasp when she opened the door at nine am.

“Good morning!…are you-aren’t you going to get dressed?” she asked softly.

“I am dressed,” Alura responded coldly, slipping on a large pair of sunglasses.

“It’s just that, there’s paparazzi right outside, and-”

“So what?” Alura snapped.

“It’s my job to make sure-”

“It’s your job to make sure the paparazzi don’t take my picture, how about that.”

Amelia nodded quickly. 

“Alright, let’s see if we can leave from another entrance.”

She started quickly typing on her phone.

Somehow, they had avoided the cameramen and made it to their car. The ride to the awards show took an hour.

 Amelia fidgeted in her seat.

“What’s the matter, do you think I’m going to make you look bad?” Alura snorted.

“No, of course not!”​

The hair and makeup team nearly dropped to the floor when Alura sauntered in. With a high hold hairspray and heavy concealer, they worked their magic and exasperatedly sent her to wardrobe.

The theater was packed. Celebrities from all ends of the industry mingled amongst themselves. Two red velvet curtains draped symmetrically across the wide stage; cameras were angled towards every spot imaginable.

The lights dimmed until the audience was blanketed in a cloud of darkness, and the stage began sparkling with intense light.

Alura scanned her phone for new texts.

But nothing came. She shook her head. 

They called her category and read the names of the nominees.

When it got to her, she stood poised and calm, as she knew all eyes were watching. 

“The winner for best actress in a dramedy, Alura, for her role as Penny in “I See You!”

There was thunderous applause as she arose from her seat, feigning shock. 

Gracefully, she ascended the stage in her floor length emerald gown, smiling and waving at each individual camera like it were a family reunion. The blackmailer was out there.

The presenter placed the golden statue in her arms and kissed her cheek.

Alura stepped up to the microphone, beaming.

“Wow. Thank you, this is really unexpected. I love what I do, so the recognition truly makes me know I’m in the perfect place. And don’t worry,” she said, staring directly into the front camera, “I’m not going anywhere. Thank you.”

She smiled shakily as the room erupted in another round of applause, and made her way backstage.

All at once, she heard shouts from audience members as the lights went out, and someone had grabbed her arm.

She shrieked, looking up at an unsettling, avian-like mask.

“Get off of me! Help!”

She elbowed the attacker as they covered her mouth with their hand and yanked her into a closet nearby.

She heard a robotic voice echo from the stage as the kidnapper turned the lock.

“We have a special interruption-”

“NO!” Alura shouted.

Her stomach dropped as she heard the beginning audio of the clip she had been sent three days ago. The audience collectively gasped.

Harley Blue lifted up her mask, wiping beads of sweat off her brow.

She carefully uncovered her gown from underneath an all-black ensemble.

 Hearing the faint sounds of heavy banging and screaming from the closet starting to dissolve; she smiled.

“Mission accomplished,” she whispered into her headset, joining the audience, who were watching the video on repeat in shock.

She sat gently down in her assigned seat, grabbing her partner’s hand next to her, and leaned in for a kiss.

“Revenge tastes sweet,” Amelia murmured beneath her lips.

They both stared up at the screen gleefully, watching as Alura dangled her puppy outside her penthouse window. This was followed by a scene in which she spit down on fans from above. The camera zoomed in on the starlet laughing as she quickly ducked back into her room and shut the window.

Backstage, Alura lay on the closet floor whimpering. Her career was over.

Cut!

Vera opened the closet door and ripped off her blonde wig, shaking her auburn bob to air it out.

“Vera darling, that was just…incredible!”

Vera smiled at the director.

“Thank you Gavin, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“The way you just threw that emotion onto all of us, instant goosebumps! And the bath scene, wow. That’s why you’re our one-take wonder.”

She chuckled, embracing Gavin in a warm hug.

Nicole scurried to her side, a large rainbow notebook decorated in horse stickers sagging under her arm.

“Vera, excuse me, you have a seven o’ clock dinner appointment tonight,” she said hurriedly.

“Right, of course.”

Vera nodded slowly, as though deep in thought.

“Nicole, may we speak in private?”

Nicole scurried off to Vera’s dressing room.

Once inside, Vera’s smile dropped into a scowl.

“Don’t ever interrupt me while I’m talking to Gavin, do you understand me?”

Nicole confirmed nervously.

“Don’t forget, there’s no shortage of assistants in Hollywood,” she warned, as she tenderly placed her “Alura” wig back in its case.

Nicole replaced her annoyance with a demure disposition, and left the room.

She waited until Vera’s heel clacks faded altogether before secretly calling an unlisted number.

“We’re doing it tonight. Don’t worry, she’ll be home.”

Nicole ended the call and wiped away her excited smirk, adjusting herself back into the frantic, worried assistant role she was born to play.

As they say, life imitates art.