Starling (Love in Los Angeles, #1)

4-3

GEMMA DOESN’T ASK ALEX if she can come visit the set, but Alex knows what such a visit would mean to her. Both because of her professional ambitions, and because of how much she loves The Fourth Estate and indeed all of Victor’s work. Plus, Alex owes her. Not only for putting up with his surliness at home, but for her support and encouragement ever since they first met online and started talking about moving west. It’s a small gesture to make in repayment, but it’s what Alex can do right now.

Seeing the two parts of his life — one almost old, one still very new — interact is strange. He watches Liam and all his clichéd black Irish charisma shake Gemma’s hand. His gaze is like the beam of a lighthouse, all focused on her. His smile is warm, and Gemma glows with the attention. Alex is good and doesn’t roll his eyes when Liam winks at her. It’s profoundly surreal.

He nods Gemma — and her incredibly loud yet surprisingly tasteful high heels — down a hallway in front of him. This may be his life now, but there’s absolutely nothing about it that feels normal.

When The Fourth Estate first aired three years ago the critics had ignored it as an unexpectedly soapy backstage drama from Victor, from whom everyone expected something better. But it had claws and stars, so people watched it, even if just for the occasional partial nudity.

But somewhere towards the end of the second year, things on the show had shifted, and what had seemed disjointed and incoherent started to reveal itself as part of a much bigger plan. The audience realized its shallow, trashy drama was no more shallow and trashy than their own lives before the critics did. Now it’s event television, pulling in everyone from teenyboppers to their grandparents.

Alex had watched it before he started P.A.ing for it. The glamour and thrill of working on a show — either as crew or as an actor — isn’t what most of the audience assumes that it is, but it’s still magic. The work of storytelling is incredibly satisfying, at least when he’s not terrified he’s going to fail. He’d forgotten that, these last few months. There had been so much to be frightened of. But now, seeing his work and his world through Gemma’s eyes, he can feel his perspective start to shift. He is lucky to be here. Even if that luck comes with so many downsides.

As he and Gemma run into people, Alex makes introductions and Gemma holds her own, happily chatting about plots and arcs and relationships in a way that hews a surprisingly gracious line between fan and aspiring professional. He’s proud. And grateful.

Alex is fascinated by watching Gemma get to see how the real people of the cast and crew intersect with the characters they all carry around with them. Some, like the irritatingly extroverted if friendly Liam, are far from their alter egos. His character James is reckless as hell, eagerly facilitating everyone else’s inevitably awful choices. Marjani — Natalie’s character — on the other hand, is almost as much of a diva as Natalie is. The only one of the cast Alex is sure he likes is Raphael, who plays the star member of their fictional journalism team. The character is a mess, but Raphael seems well-adjusted. At least for L.A.

Gemma floats through it all. When he walks her back to her car before the afternoon’s shoot, she kisses his cheek.

“Thank you for a peek at the dream,” she says.

—

* * * *

THE NETWORK, VICTOR’S people, and Margaret all try to start Alex off small with the media. Margaret assures him over and over that they’re always going to say no a lot. That’s not personal; it’s not even about the fact that Alex has no idea what he’s doing.

Instead, she says that the secret to success is to always leave everyone wanting more. Alex nods. He understands; it’s obvious and in the very way The Fourth Estate is written and structured. No one but Victor could get away with doing that to an audience for over a year before they understood what they were watching.

Alex tries his best to follow Margaret’s advice and Victor’s example. He never mentions his family in interviews if he can help it, but there are two weeks where every gossip show is obsessed with the idea that he doesn’t know his dad and that there’s some drama involving his sister. On the days when how hard it is for him must seem obvious, Margaret asks Alex why he’s doing this. He says that Gemma told him he’s Marilyn Monroe and not allowed to say no.

“Sometimes, on TV, it’s important to be less strange,” is her only response. She doesn’t even blink.

Alex laughs and crinkles up his eyes.

“That,” she exclaims, “is your secret weapon.”

—

* * * *

ALEX’S FIRST TV INTERVIEW that matters is a late show after the late show. Paul and Victor watch it together on the shitty first generation flat screen with the dodgy cable connection that lives in the writers’ room. In television no one sleeps.

When the host finally asks Alex if he’s gay, Alex giggles, squints, and smiles sly. “Is this something we didn’t know?”

“America just fell in love with him,” Victor breathes, leaning back in a chair with his feet on a desk, beer bottle halfway to his lips.

“America’s not the only one.” Paul murmurs. He’s not sure if he means it as a jibe at Victor, who is notorious for his fascination with his stars — rumors have been going around about him and Liam forever — or his own personal moment of realization.

—