When The Lights Go Out In Hollywood

I have been working on this story, on and off for a long time. If you know my writing style you know I enjoy my heroines who are either deemed "Villians" or "Sex Workers"

This story involves a murder of an adult film actress.

CHAPTER ONE

Tyson Davis stormed out of her soon-to-be ex-boyfriend’s penthouse suite as quickly as she possibly could. She had expected to find her philandering, sleeze ball, rock-star boyfriend in bed with someone, she hadn't expected to find him in bed with three, gorgeous, barely legal trollops, but there he was. Not again she thought. Not again. No wonder he couldn’t make it to her birthday bash last night. He had been doing some bashing of his own. She had called his cellphone and along with his manager’s, Bic Sherman all last night trying to get ahold of him, but it was to no avail. She was unescorted into her 30th birthday party. Dateless and it seemed like only half of her guests were there to actually see her and not her uber famous rock-star boyfriend. He had also helped with the guest list. She still had an awesome birthday. She just wished she could have shared it with someone special who thought she was just as special.

When Tyson had entered the adult film industry ten years ago she had no idea that she would be this disappointed in the overall outcome of her love life. She had been with her famous rock-star boyfriend, Donny Lively, for the past three years, and the only reason for the relationship atthis point was for publicity’s sake and the solidifying it did for her sex kitten persona. They had formed an alliance of sorts. She knew he needed the elevated status of dating a hot, sought after adult film star, it was expected of him being a young, hot, sexy rock star. It seemed like a natural fit, at first. They genuinely enjoyed partying together, going to exotic places on a whim together. Inviting various celebrities to his home and having some of the best jam sessions MTVs Unplugged would have only dreamed of. Their sex was amazing. They both were in top shape so stamina was never an issue. It had taken her four years to build up her reputation as one of the sexiest and hardest working showgirls in the adult business. She was the adult starlet every fluffer dreamed about being and every man dreamed about being with, but it still didn't matter to her, because at the end of the day she didn't really have anyone in her corner. Sure, she had enough money and material possessions most people would be thrilled to have,but to her at this exact moment it felt as if her life was falling apart around her.

She was half-way down the hall when she heard Donny calling after her. It made her walk faster. She did not want to speak to him. He had completely humiliated her. The mustard yellow carpet muffled her hurried focused footsteps. She reached the elevator and pressed the down button over and over again, it lit up.

“ Ty, Baby! Wait up!”

She looked back at him. The elevator dinged and the brass plated doors opened wide. He reached her just as she was getting in. He grabbed her upper arm.

“Tyson! Wait!” He was out of breath and was cloaked in nothing but a white towel. He pulled her out of the elevator, “I’m sorry o.k.?!”

“O.k.” She said, toneless.

“It’s just sex babe, a good time... I mean c’mon you of all people should know about that." He gave her that irresistible sly grin, that use to make her heart melt and her mind turn to mush. He tried to caress her face she moved away. He continued, "You really didn’t think I would settle down with…”

“A porn star?" She furnished for him, "And yes, I kind of thought you did, but that’s o.k. I get it.”

He almost looked ashamed...almost.

“No, I didn’t mean it that way! Shit!" He stabbed his free hand through his shoulder length, bleach blonde locks.

His towel slipped with the motion giving her a brief view of his bare crotch. He quickly put both of his hands on the towel. "Look, I’m a rockstar. Partying is what I do. We had an arrangement and it has worked this far, but now you want something else.”

“I said I get it !” She snapped.

She felt her left eye ticking. It was a nervous tick she couldn’t seem to shake. Whenever she got extremely upset or stressed that little nerve was sometimes a dead giveaway to the people who truly knew her. Donny hadn't said anything about it and thus proved her point. He did not know her, and didn't seem to care as far as face value was concerned. She was nothing but a trophy to him after three years of being in a relationship with him. She thought his feelings for her were real, and he would at least know her, but standing here now, he was holding her heart in his hands and didn't even know it, or care. That realization made her see him for what he truly was. A social opportunist. A person like Donny was dangerous. She rested her pinky on her soft flesh under her eye and the ticking subsided. She then pressed the elevator button and the brass doors opened and once again she got in.

It was the longest elevator ride of her life. She found herself looking at her gorgeous reflection in the mirror. She wore a white spaghetti strap cotton mini-dress, with her favorite stonewashed cutoff jean jacket and brown cowboy boots. On the outside, she looked put together, beautiful,sexy, and fun, but on the inside she felt like she was in the middle of a storm. She wasn't quite ready for it or had even expected it.

She knew that in her world this was a normal turn of events. The men in her life always seemed to trivialize their relationship with her because her career being a sex object. That was not only implied to him, but to the vast majority of the American population. It was also implied that she had no self respect or sexual boundaries for herself and that her lifestyle was a way to be sexually irresponsible with no consequences. Both myths were incorrect and hurtful to her. Her career aside she was a wonderful and sweet person. She was kind and loveable. She had just hoped this one time her relationship would somehow be different than all of the ones that had preceded it. She had hoped Donny would see how perfect they were together and what a classy, smart, sophisticated woman she was when she needed to be and wouldn't be able to live without her. She wouldn’t cry, she told herself when she thought of her hopes at love being dashed.. She heard the elevator ding. She was back on the ground floor. The elevator doors opened. She quickly got out and walked out of the building not looking back. When she reached her cream Porsche sports utility vehicle she felt like screaming.

How dare he ! She thought as she ran her French manicured nails through her raven black hair. She saw her reflection in her vehicles rearview mirror. She felt like three week old trash that had been set out in the sun right now.

She opened her car door and her cellphone rang. She looked at the caller I.d. It was Donny. She didn’t answer it, just sat there holding the phone in her hand and staring at it light up. Why answer it ? She asked herself. He’s only going to half ass apologize to me even more, and honestly another half ass apology from him was something she didn’t feel like hearing at this very moment. She tossed her phone into her designer handbag, turned the key in the ignition, and drove off. It was after one o’clock in the afternoon. She had been missing in action at her studio.

This afternoon she had an appointment with an up and coming movie director who wanted to collaborate on an Adult film series for Pay per view Television. The meeting was about discussing a storyboard for the new series of films she would be starring in. She had been in this business for years. She had made countless films and some wonderful business connections along the way.

She didn’t mind working on the on-screen chemistry offscreen with her leading men, but this morning when she awoke after her massive birthday bash last night, she hadn’t felt that way. She had started feeling closed in on all sides of her life. She was thirty years old. She wasn’t getting any younger, mentally, or physically. This business had taught her that sex was best when it was sold for a high price, and whoever faked it the best got the most money. Tyson always acted like being super successful in her industry was her ultimate goal, but deep down she knew there had to be so much more to life than parties, social media and the sensationalism of her female anatomy.

She wanted to be normal for a change, and in the gossip columns, with them talking about her legs being closed for once, maybe have a husband and a baby or two. She smiled at the thought of her holding little toddlers while her husband kissed her goodbye as he went off to work. Everyone had told her when she chose to live this type of lifestyle no man would take her seriously and once again that point had been proven just a few hours ago.

She had turned thirty last night and it seemed that all of her friends, and the hundreds of people she had invited had way more fun than she had. For one thing her dumbass ex-boyfriend didn't show up. He was having his own private party. She rolled her eyes at that thought. Everyone seemed not to notice how unhappy she truly was and that she had been using her acting skills off camera ? If only her critics could see her now. Pretending to be unbothered and aloof. Her life seemed to be flashing before her eyes today, and although she was grateful for the well-to-do lifestyle she had, she wanted out of the business. She needed advice. She didn’t want this to be a hasty decision. She needed to call her best friend Summit, who was a fellow adult film actress. She needed to hash it over with her. She had always been a moral compass for Tyson.

Without taking her eyes off the road, she picked up her cell phone as she drove in the direction of her friends home. After three rings, she got Summit's voicemail. She disconnected the call and called her friends partner, McKennly, who answered on the second ring.

“Hey ‘Kennly, is Summit with you?”

“No, I haven’t seen her since last night at the party. She said she had to go take care of something. Great party by the way. I didn’t know you knew so many directors and producers.”

Tyson smiled. She loved the fact that even though McKennly was in the business there was still a certain sweet naivete' about her. She kept to herself.

“Yea, well, it’s the story of my life." She said sarcastically as she turned her vehicle in the direction of her office. “When she calls you let me know, o.k. ? I gotta go meet up with Paul in a few. We’re throwing around some new film ideas with me and some fresh faces”

“I’ll have her call you as soon as she comes in the door.” She promised.

Tyson pressed the end button on her phone. She felt like crying, which she never did. Ever since she became Tyson Davis, she was determined to be a completely different person than what she had been ten years prior...

Ten Years Ago...

Her name had been Anna Louise Trevor back then. She had lived in a small town called Lonoke, Kentucky. A town so small it only had one traffic light. She had never known her mother or father. Both of her parents had died in a train wreck when she was just three years old. Since that time, she had come to live with her aunt Selma and uncle Frank. They were both raging alcoholics. A thing Children Protective Services overlooked. There was never enough food to eat and her clothes were always worn and too small for her. Tyson thought about nights in that dilapidated house of theres. She had been a fifteen-year-old girl, reed thin, with dull black hair cut in a short bob. She never slept at night because of the loud arguing done by her aunt and uncle. It always started in hushed tones, but slowly climaxed to full out screaming matches with each glass of liquor they poured. It never failed that after that, Uncle Frank would sneak into her room and do unspeakable things to her. She had told her Aunt Selma about it one day after school, before her uncle got home from the chicken plant. She remembered the look of brief shame and then anger that flashed across her aunt's face. Her Aunt had slapped her across her face hard and told her to do as she was told by her Uncle Frank. Aunt Selma told her she was lucky she had had anyone to care for her the way she and her Uncle did, and if that was how Uncle Frank wanted to be paid back then so be it.

Life was simply unbearable there.

She was smothered by his body. Engulfed by the smell of chewing tobacco, musty sweat, and sour whiskey almost every single night for almost six months. Until one night she could no longer stand it.

Uncle Frank came into her room with the same sweat-stained tank top and half-buttoned jeans on he wore every day.

“It’s time girly,” he said to her in his slow, deep, southern white trash drawl she had grown to hate and fear. She was sitting on the corner of the bed by the edge. Her heart was leaping in her chest. She was tired of him hurting her every night, tired of walking on eggshells for the likes of him. She was tired of being made fun of and told she would never amount to anything. She couldn't stay here any longer. She would rather die. Her bag was packed and underneath her bed. It had been ever since she had come up with this plan,which was about a week ago. Her friend Sadie Lynn had also helped her and made her a fake i.d. She could start all over again. She just had to get out of here, alive.

“Yes sir,” she answered back quietly, making sure to look as submissive as possible.

She got up and waited for him to come over to sit beside her.

He stumbled over to her and sat on the bed. Once again he was very drunk. The smell of Rum overwhelmed her, and she thought she could never recall a time when he or her Aunt had been sober.

“Tonight I wanna do something special. I wanna see you wit' no clothes on. Go on. Get up and take ‘em off.”

She froze. Her legs felt like iron. She couldn’t move.

“Get up and take ‘em off or I’ll do it for ye.” He threatened her.

She knew he would rip her clothes off, and these were the only pair of good pants she had. She took a deep breath. She didn’t want her plan to be ruined.

“Yes sir,” she said.

He was rubbing his thick meaty hands together like a fat greedy shylock getting ready to count all of his money.

She turned toward him and began to unbutton her pink flannel shirt when she spoke, “Sir, I need to get something out of the nightstand.”

“What?” He asked, sounding agitated at her request.

“It’s so I won’t get pregnant.” She felt herself blush at the bold lie she had just told.

“Alright, go on and hurry up now. Uncle is gettin' anxious.”

She walked around the bed to where her night stand table was. His back was to her. He was waiting. She quietly picked up the heavy lamp, held it as high as she could, and smashed it over his head. She watched him fall unconscious back onto the small bed. She heard the squeaks of the mattress coils as his body relaxed and the old mattress strained under his heavy weight as he lightly bounced. She saw the blood at the corner of his receding hairline. She grabbed her backpack from underneath the bed and ran out of her room. Her heart was slamming into her chest and she knew she was half way there. Making sure to close the door behind her, she tiptoed down the stairs but quickly realized that her Aunt was drunk and passed out somewhere in the house so it really didn’t matter. She took one last look at what couldn’t ever be considered a real home for her and left.

That same night she purchased a one-way train ticket to California. She had met Paul when she got there. They were both waiting outside of the train station. He offered her a ride and she accepted it, and the rest was history. He was like her big brother and dad figure in one. When he found out she was only fifteen he made her enroll in high school, and when she was eighteen and told him she wanted to work in adult films he told her to enroll in a couple of college courses as well. She couldn't imagine her life without Paul and her best friend Summit. They were her true family.

She was sitting in her vehicle parked in front of her studio where she would be meeting up with Paul shortly, finding herself lost in thought. Maybe she just needed a vacation, she reassured herself. She hadn’t had a real one. She had always used the excuse that her life was one continuous vacation. She’d mention it to Paul after their meeting today. She looked in her rearview mirror and reapplied her Chanel lipstick. Her day had turned out pretty shitty. She hoped it wouldn’t get any worse...

Stay tuned so you can read the rest...

HAPPY READING