Hollywood psycho, p.1
Hollywood Psycho, page 1
Hollywood Psycho:
The Julie Simon Story
Brittany Roth
This book is a work of fiction. Names, businesses, characters, places, incidences, and events are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, places, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2023 Brittany Roth
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author except for review purposes.
ISBN: 979-8-9881300-0-0
ISBN (ebook): 979-8-9881300-1-7
www.brittrothauthor.com
Cover design by Sadia Shahid
Interior and formatting by Michael Davie – grimhousepub.com/plans-pricing
To my beautiful Grandmother, my best friend.
I hope I’m making you proud up in heaven.
Contents
Dear Reader
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Roxy’s Note
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Dear Reader,
I hope this note finds you well. In this story there are instances that have harassment, sexual assault, rape, abortion and suicide. They do not go into detail. They are said, more so than shown, but are very much alluded to or suggested. I hope that if you do continue to read this story, you enjoy it as it is a very lighthearted thriller that will hopefully leave you satisfied with what you read. And if you need any help please call any of these hotlines for free and anonymous help:
Call or text 988 for the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline or 911 for immediate life-threatening situations.
1(800) 656- HOPE (4673) for the National Sexual Assault Hotline or go to their website www.rainn.org
I hope that you have big dreams, like Julie, and go after them because you are worth every bit of happiness and beauty this life has to offer.
Chapter One
I remember seeing palm trees for the first time. I remember being so mesmerized by their beauty, by their elegance. I know that it sounds ridiculous because it’s just a tree, but I feel like they aren’t appreciated for what they really are. If you think about it, they are the perfect example of how we should live our lives. What I mean by that is when, for instance, the winds pick up, a palm tree just doesn’t fall over. They show us that no matter what tries to bring us down, we can always stand right back up again with our heads held high. Higher than everything that could try to break us; every blow, every gust of wind, every storm that forces us to start losing who we are in this world. But we have that sway within us, for protection, that lets us stand right back up again with even more exuberance and grace than we had before. But, if I’m being honest, what I really love about them is the way the sun hits them when it rises and falls. Now that’s a breathtaking sight! Gosh, I was 21 when I first saw those palm trees. I was so young and so naïve.
I’m 23 now. I guess that that doesn’t make me much older, though my mind is definitely in a different place. I wouldn’t say that it’s darker, it’s just not basking in the bright light of innocence anymore.
My parents died in a car accident when I was eight. Since neither of them had any brothers or sisters, I went to live with my grandmother, across town from my childhood home in Arrow Rock, Missouri. She was my best friend, my grandmother, and she encouraged me to be whatever I wanted to be in life—which, at that time, was a famous Hollywood star. My Grandmother loved me so wholeheartedly and with such a passion that I had never seen or experienced before. It wasn’t just because I was a kid who suddenly lost her parents and she had to take me in. She genuinely loved me and wanted me. We had an inseparable bond and a connection so deep it went further than just a grandmother and her granddaughter. We relied on one another. We trusted each other. And no matter what, I knew that she would always be there for me.
My favorite thing about my grandmother was how we shared a love for the theater and the old greats of the silver screen. That’s probably where my love of acting came from, now that I think of it. She could have been a star herself with how beautiful she was. Her auburn eyes always shone so bright, no matter what we were doing. There was always a great light around her, which made people feel a sense of welcome and acceptance; a warmth. She never left the house without getting ready. Sometimes she would say, “Julie remember, life is an event. So you must always be ready.” She would smile at me and continue to put on her makeup, which had to be perfect right down to the Pink in the Afternoon Revlon lipstick she always wore. Her favorite movie was Breakfast at Tiffany’s, and she would say, “Who wouldn’t want to look like Audrey Hepburn?” whenever she caught me staring at her in the mirror before applying some to my own lips. She always wore her hair pulled back with a clip because she said that it accentuated her cheek bones. I always thought it was because it was the only way she knew how to do it. Thinking about it now, she was right. Then there was her signature scent, Charlie Blue. That’s a scent I won’t ever forget. It’s a scent that will always put a smile on my face and make me hear her voice saying, “It makes me feel young.”
But, because of her—the way she was and the movies we watched—I grew up admiring Grace Kelly, Maureen O’Hara, Lana Turner, Elizabeth Taylor, and who could forget, Ava Gardner? They were my inspiration growing up in our local community theater. I was kind of a lonely kid. I didn’t have very many friends and when I would get invited to birthday parties or sleepovers, I would always wish that I was back at home reading a book or watching a movie with my grandmother. The theater became my outlet for getting through childhood. It was my way to escape reality, by turning into characters that experienced things I knew I may never get the chance to. So, I performed in every play my high school had to offer. I made it a point to study the greats’ every move; from the way they projected their voices, to the way they moved so effortlessly and gracefully across the screen. Even the minute facial expressions they made conveyed so much. Now that was acting, and acting was my passion. I wanted to be a famous actress. To be acknowledged alongside one of my idols was my dream. My Grandmother always told me that I should go out into the world and never let anything hold me back. So, that’s what I did.
I was almost 20 when she got sick, and I was scared. Who wouldn’t be? My Grandmother was the only person that I had in this world. She was my world, my everything. How could she leave me?
Watching her slip away from me was the hardest thing that I had ever experienced in my life. When my parents died, yes, I was sad, but it was as if they left in the blink of an eye. Being so young made it easier to move on. But with my grandmother, to whom I had clung to in that time of grief, and who was with me every step of the way, it broke my heart. It was the grief I almost should have felt when my parents died. I kept telling her that I needed her and that I didn’t want her to go. She would comfort me the best that she could, until she couldn’t anymore. On one of our last days together, she told me to take her money and go out into the world and live my dreams. That would be a dream within itself for anyone, but for me, I would trade whatever money she was talking about to keep her with me a little longer. The very last thing she said to me was, “My sweet Julie, add your name to the list of stars.” She died three days later.
After the funeral, and my 21st birthday, I sold the house, packed up my ’87 corolla and drove all the way from Missouri to Los Angeles, all by myself, to start my new life. I was alone. I was all that I had in the world. Well, me and my corolla. It wasn’t hard letting everything go; all of my memories. I kept some furniture and some mementos, but the rest was my past, and I was now living my future.
It was July 26, 1993; the day that I opened my car door and touched Hollywood soil for the first time. The air was so fresh, and the people were so weird. The first thing to check off of my list was to walk down Hollywood Boulevard to see where I wanted to cement my name, not only with a star, but with my handprints. I found my location right outside Grauman’s Chinese Theater, next to Judy Garland. I would somehow get there. I would somehow be a star, in my own right, next to the greats. I was determined.
The first few days, I tried to familiarize myself with this massive, spread out, but beautiful city. I knew that I wanted to live in an area where I would be safe and close to people my own age to hopefully make some friends.
Beverly Hills would be a dream; however, a little out of my price range for the time being. Downtown was too shabby. The Hills would be nice, but Westwood was just right. It was a college town, so there were students all over the place and I would literally be only a few minutes away from Beverly Hills—the place that I would someday call my home. How soon? I wasn’t quite sure.
My apartment was on Ashton Avenue and was a one bedroom. Since I only packed what I could fit into my corolla, I didn’t have any furniture for about a week, but I had sent for my things that I had put into storage. It was a glorious day when my bed arrived.
Living in my dream land was amazing, but I couldn’t help but feel lonely. The only person I had was gone, and although having some of her things with me was comforting, it just wasn’t the same. Sure, Los Angeles was busy and fun and full of things to do and see, but when you don’t have anyone in your life to share it with, it can be a very lonely place.
My Grandmother had left me $350,000, which was her life savings, plus the money from selling the house. Even though I had enough money to live off of for a few years, I decided to get a job at a restaurant to meet people. And, it was LA—you never knew who you could run into.
I had waitressed back home, in Arrow Rock, at a little diner that most of the locals frequented. Because of my experience, I was able to find a job at a famous, old Hollywood restaurant, The Musso and Franks Grill, where every other waiter was just like me. We were all trying to break into showbiz.
On my first day, I made friends with a girl named Megan who was from Ohio, and had been in LA for about a year. She had been going on audition after audition—it was impressive. Since I didn’t have an agent yet, she said that she would try and set up a meeting for me to meet hers.
“Oh my gosh, he’s the best! I go on at least four auditions a week,” Megan said with so much excitement in her voice that I couldn’t help but reciprocate the same emotion, in the hopes of getting representation. Meeting him would be the jumpstart to my career and the way to get my foot in the door.
“Do I need to bring anything with me? Like a resume or some headshots?” I asked her, eagerly. I wanted to be prepared.
“No, he will set everything up for you if he likes you. And don’t worry Julie, he will love you!”
It all seemed to move so fast—too fast—but a week later I was in Dave Clancy’s office. Megan had assured me that I would do great and had nothing to worry about, but I just kept thinking that it was a little peculiar that I didn’t have to have anything prepared, not even a monologue. As I sat there waiting to see Mr. Clancy, I couldn’t help but look around the waiting room, with nerves rattling through me, at all of the headshots on the wall. I didn’t recognize anyone. I probably should have taken that as a bad sign, but I had to start somewhere. Maybe Mr. Clancy would be like a first boyfriend—a test run, so to speak.
The receptionist finally called me into his office. As I walked in, my eyes widened with fright when I saw a stout, creepy looking, middle-aged man sitting behind an oversized oak desk, trying to nonchalantly fix the rug he had on his head. When he saw me, he smiled. It wasn’t a friendly sight. That crooked, yellow, almost brown smile sent shivers up and down my spine. He was awful to look at. Just awful. Now, even though I had been raised to not judge others, Mr. Clancy was absolutely gross to look at. He had greasy skin that went all the way to the hair that he did have. And his eyes—oh, his eyes—didn’t have a lick of kindness behind them. They were dark and ominous, almost black. Just him looking at you made you want to run out of the room, as far away as you could. You shivered like you needed to take a shower and wash his look off of you. It was very uncomfortable. If I wasn’t so desperate to become an actress, I would have just turned and walked out. I kept repeating in my head what Megan had told me, that “He was good.” So, I figured that I better stick it out and give him the benefit of the doubt, even though everything in me was telling me to run out of the office as fast as I could.
“Julie Simon, is it? Well,” he said, as he was biting his lower lip with the yellowest teeth I had ever seen. “You are beautiful. Megan tells me that you’re new to LA?”
“Yes, I’ve been here for about a month now,” I said, trying to sound as polite as possible. I was finding it hard to not cringe at the sound of his voice.
“What type of training have you had?” he asked.
“Back in Missouri I took theater classes, and I have been in about 20 plays since I was nine. I also took some local acting classes through our community center.”
“So, you’re theatrically trained, huh?” he said with a look of disgust.
“I guess that’s what it would be. There aren’t too many acting opportunities back home, so I kind of took all that I could get.”
“Well, I don’t know what I can do with you.”
“Oh, well I could take some classes out here or I…”
He sat there, staring at me while licking his lips and making a smacking noise that made my stomach churn. “Commercials, I guess,” he paused, “Unless,” he paused again. “You and I can make an arrangement of some sort?”
“Arrangement?” I asked. “What do you mean by that?” I was caught off guard and was confused, as anyone would be by that sort of question. “What do you mean by arrangement?” My heart was now pounding in my throat. I felt as if I was not in the right place, because I most certainly was not.
Dave Clancy got up from behind his desk to reveal his 5’4” stature. He made his way around to me, where he put his hand on my knee and began to move it up, slowly.
My heart was racing, and not in the good way.
“Well, you’re a very beautiful woman, Julie, but you’re also very forgettable. But I do think that I can do something with you. If you do a little something for me,” he winked while running his hand closer and closer to my body.
I began to tense up. I couldn’t believe what was happening, but something inside of me made me react. “Get off of me, perv!” I yelled as I pushed him and his hand as far away from me as possible.
“Now, Julie, how do you think this business works?” He cackled. “Do you honestly think that you’ll get a movie role just by having a pretty face and being able to mediocrely read a few lines?”
“Well, I’d rather try it that way than have to get felt up by you,” I retorted as I rose to leave.
He caught me by the arm and pulled me back. “Julie, let’s try to work this out. You give me 30 minutes, and I’ll give you a career.” He pulled me in closer to him.
I began to edge away, but he kept bringing me in closer and tightly griping my arm until he was kissing my neck. I was in shock from the horror and disgust before me. I was shaking, panicking. I was frozen and didn’t know what to do.
There was no way that the entertainment business could really be like this. I had heard stories, but never believed them. And I, Julie Simon, was no casting couch kind of girl. Something inside of me shook me back to reality. With my free hand, I was able to punch him in the gut, which freed my arm and gave me the ability to get out of dodge.
I immediately called Megan as soon as I got home and asked her what the hell she was thinking, sending me to a scumbag like him. And then I asked if she had actually slept with the man to get work.
“Julie, I’m not proud of what I did. But it is going to get me somewhere,” she said.
“Megan, I can’t believe it. I don’t want to believe it,” I said, still fuming. “It’s one thing if he was actually attractive and it had the possibility of going somewhere, but he was absolutely the scum of the earth and is not going to get you any acting jobs, anywhere.” I hated myself for hurting her feelings, but she was the closest person to me at this point in my life, and I wanted her to succeed. My Grandmother would have said it to me, so I said it to her.
“Well, we’ll see,” was all she said, in a hateful tone, before hanging up.
Thoughts of whether tinsel town was really like this kept pouring through my brain. Back home, people were always so polite and wouldn’t do things that went against their morals to get ahead in life. I was flabbergasted with what someone so young and so stupid would do, just for a chance at a possible audition, with no guarantee of actually getting casted and securing a future.
Megan avoided me at work from then on. She went as far as changing every shift that she had with me. I ended up making friends with some of the guys that worked there, Jeffery and Dawson. There was no attraction there; they were both absolutely gorgeous, and gay. Which was a bummer, but it was actually kind of better; I had two guys who made me feel safe and protected. Jeffery and Dawson took me around the city and showed me where all of the celebrities liked to hangout, and where we needed to hangout if we wanted to get discovered.
