And now, for the first time, Hallie.
“But, you’re the one who introduced me to everyone!” Hallie protested. “You told me to talk to Rachel about audition reels, remember?” Hallie insisted. “And when we met Zoe, at that party over the summer, you’re the one who said I was trying to break in. They were happy to talk to me!”
“Well, sure, because they didn’t want to be rude.” Ana Lucia’s smile became more frozen — barely a smile at all. “I’m just saying, it’s been uncomfortable. For all of us. I know you’re an outsider, but, this isn’t how we do it here.” She shrugged, and turned on her heel to leave — as if Hallie were nothing more than an embarrassing inconvenience now, and not the girl who had been right beside her at every brunch and shopping trip for months; supplying them with backstage passes, and invites to all of Take Fountain’s private after-show parties.
Suddenly, Hallie’s anger bubbled up again.
“This is about Dakota, isn’t it?” she demanded furiously. “All along, you’ve been using me to get near Reed. But now that we’ve broken up, you’re done with me!”
Ana Lucia hardened. “Me? Using you?” She snorted. “Please. What do you have that I could possibly want?” She took a step closer to Hallie and glared, all pretense of friendship gone. “We let you tag along for long enough, but just because you lucked out in the right zip code, and have some rich relative taking pity on you, it doesn’t make you one of us!”
Brie finally looked up from her cell phone. “Your uncle isn’t even in features,” she added, like it was the ultimate put-down. “He does TV.”
She and Ana Lucia whirled on their spiked heels and stalked away. Meredith paused a moment, and gave Hallie a regretful look. “Sorry. She’s just . . .” Meredith sighed. “You know Reed slept with her, right before they all went to New York? And now he’s not returning her calls.”
“So she was just using me.” Hallie’s anger returned, only this time, she didn’t know whether to be mad at Ana Lucia, or herself — for not seeing the blatant exchange that had been holding up their entire friendship. She looked at Meredith, arms folded. “What about you? Are you done too?”
Meredith glanced over to the elevators, where Ana Lucia and Brie were waiting. Ana Lucia glared at them impatiently. “We go way back,” Meredith offered, the feeble note in her voice telling Hallie everything she needed to know. “They’re my best friends out here. They know everyone.”
And there it was again. Who you knew — or didn’t know — made all the difference in this town.
“You’ll miss your ride,” Hallie told her harshly, turning away. She didn’t wait to watch Meredith leave with the others; for once, Hallie needed to be the one to walk away first.
Hallie made straight for the bar, blood still singing from her showdown with Ana Lucia and Co. She waved for the bartender’s attention, keeping one eye on the far doors. For all she knew, Ana Lucia would send security up to bounce her out, now that she was there without a precious member’s permission. Hallie may be drunk, but she was nowhere near drunk enough for that. “Another margarita, please.”
He didn’t ask for ID. They never did here, just mixed the drinks and waited for their tips. Hallie scrabbled in her bag for the money.
“I’ve got this.” A voice came from her left-hand side: a tanned, blond guy in his twenties wearing designer denim and an ultra-white smile. Hallie hesitated. Getting hit on was the last thing she wanted, but as if he could read her thoughts, the guy took a step back, glanced at her shoes, and gasped. “Are those Prada? Oh, sweetheart, you look fierce!”
Hallie relaxed. “Thanks!” she replied. “And for the drink too. I’m Hallie, by the way.”
“Roger,” he replied, pronouncing it like a European: Ro-ZHAIR. “And I know. I saw your scene over by the elevators with that skinny girl,” he explained, rolling his eyes. “What a be-yatch!”
“Isn’t she?” Hallie cried. “She calls me the user, when all along, she only wants access to Take Fountain, and a guy who couldn’t care less about her!”
Roger tutted sympathetically. “People in this town are the worst,” he agreed, laying a fifty down on the bar for their drinks. “They only use you to get what they want, and then, BAM, they’re done with you. You can’t let them get to you, they’ll get what they deserve in the end.”
“Yes! You’re right.” Hallie nodded at her kindred spirit. “You’re so right.”
“Why don’t you come sit?” Roger nodded toward a free couch in the corner. “And tell Uncle Roger all about it.”
Roger turned out to be the perfect audience to Hallie’s woe: attentive, sympathetic, and full of disdain at the cruel and thoughtless way Dakota had treated her.
“. . . and then he got in the car!” she finished, stifling a yawn. It was three a.m. and the lounge was emptying out now, but she was still ensconced in the corner with her new BFF and his BFF, a bleached blonde in her twenties with a raspy Brooklyn accent.
“Bastard!” Roger declared. “I can see it now: you standing proudly like Vivien Leigh in Gone with the Wind.”
Hallie nodded tiredly. Yes! Scarlett O’Hara. That was her all the way: dignified to the end.
“So Talia was right there?” the girl — Kay, Hallie thought she was called — asked, wide-eyed with interest. “Did she say anything?”
“Not to me.” Hallie scowled. “She just ordered him to get in the car, like I wasn’t even there. But I could tell, she knew exactly what was going on. You could see it in her eyes, she loved watching me suffer.”
Kay and Roger shook their heads in dismayed unison.
“You know, you should get your side of the story out there,” Roger suggested, resting one arm on the back of the couch behind Hallie.
“He’s right.” Kay leaned in from her other side. “No one even knows what you went through.”
“To the world, you’re just some crazy fan who made a scene outside his show.”
“And he’s the charming rock star who swept Talia off her feet,” Kay finished, nodding. “People deserve to know the truth.”
Hallie looked back and forth between them, the rapid motion making her dizzy. She reached for her drink, gulping down the weak dregs of melted ice. She frowned at the empty glass. “I think I should get going . . . .”