The Sins of the Seven 03 Greed: Brad, Paige, Kylie & Richard
A Reckoning Among the Faithful.
Enjoy the third chapter of Rhodes Ave. Press’ novel, The Sins of the Seven.
Big Rock Canyon, Malibu, March 1993
Brad Lowery stepped out of her Jeep in the driveway of Paige’s modest Malibu cottage in Big Rock Canyon. Brad’s stick straight, brown hair fell on both sides of her face and caught flight on the little gusts of breeze blowing in from the Pacific Ocean just beyond PCH, the breeze blowing strands of her hair across her freckled cheeks.
Paige waved to Brad from the front picture window of her cottage as Brad pulled out a bouquet of flowers and a chilled bottle of wine from the Jeep before heading up the steps to the house. As Brad climbed the wooden steps knotted from the salt air she heard the sound of a car speeding up the gravel driveway. Brad turned to see what speed demon had arrived as she held up her hand to shield her eyes from the sun.
As Brad ascended the salt-worn wooden steps, the hum of the ocean mingled with the distant roar of an approaching engine. She turned, shielding her eyes from the bright glare, and saw Kylie’s cherry-red Miata screech to a halt. Kylie stepped out of the car like she was stepping out at a red carpet premiere, her hair done as if photographers were present. Kylie wore small little athletic shorts, a garish neon tank top, a chunky and gaudy gold ring, large neon sunglasses and her bleach blonde hair pulled back under a black nylon headband. Brad couldn’t help but roll her eyes at Kylie’s neon tank top and gaudy accessories—reminders that while Kylie lived in luxury, her style was seemingly all flash and no substance. Brad huffed thinking to herself that she looked like a prostitute frequenting a tennis club.
In reality, Kylie was a perfectly lovely and friendly girl - Brad always enjoyed her company - Kylie was always game to smoke cigarettes in Artists’ Alley or go out for a drink after work but that was about the limit of Kylie’s depth for Brad.
Brad feared that Kylie’s character of Maxine, the spoiled rich girl was unfortunately not that far off from reality. After all, while most of The Seven had grown up and moved to LA to “make” it, Kylie had grown up a spoiled rich girl herself in the Valley, the daughter of a strip mall tycoon.
Hell, Kylie Irving grew up getting dropped off at school in a Ferrari, eating sushi for lunch and even had Bobby Brown play her Sweet Sixteen. Brad meanwhile, came from a down to Earth Texan family cleaning horse stalls and eating Hamburger Helper.
Until Brad met Kylie, she had always heard about the ugly stereotype of those born and raised in LA versus those who came here to “make it” - Brad was happy to be born and bred with a good head on her shoulders.
Paige had summoned the girls to her new cottage to revisit the night of the wrap party.
Paige had yet to “get over” what Richard had done to her. And she knew even if she could, Richard would win and go on to do even worse. Paige was determined to stand her ground and demand that NexTV hold Richard responsible for his actions.
Paige greeted the girls at the door embracing them warmly as she welcomed them inside.
Brad handed Paige the bouquet of flowers adding, “Happy Cottage-warming! Congratulations,” and hoisting the bottle of wine towards Paige saying, “I brought you this, figured we’d need it.”
“I’ll get some glasses and put these in water, make yourselves comfortable,” Paige said motioning towards the living room for the girls.
Brad surveyed the cottage—a well-appointed, though overly twee space cluttered with seashells, driftwood, and other beachy baubles.
Brad sank into a comfy armchair and leaned her head back taking in the smells of the sea air wafting in from the open window as she strained to see if she could hear the waves crashing in the distance over the sounds of PCH.
Kylie stared up at the beamed ceilings and the shaft of light coming in through the skylight.
“I’d kill,” Kylie said awkwardly, “To have ceilings like this. And, this close to the beach, so cool. Maybe someday.”
Brad simply nodded in return unsure how to respond.
“Brad,” Kylie asked, “Where are you again?”
Brad mulled this question for a moment wondering what Kylie meant.
Before Brad could even answer, Kylie was already talking again, “I’m in West Hollywood on that new building on Doheny right on the border of Beverly Hills,” Kylie said without barely drawing a breath before continuing, “I mean it’s totally great, but I totally need to upgrade my real estate game if I want to be living like this one day.”
“I’m in a building in the Marina,” Brad said to Kylie. Brad had this nagging feeling that she had told Kylie this in the past on a cigarette break and was slightly wounded that Kylie seemed to retain little if anything Brad said.
Brad looked at Kylie admiring her natural beauty wondering how this Valley girl got so damn lucky. Kylie never had to waitress a day in her life or live in a shitbox apartment scraping together enough coins from the couch cushions to afford a can of tuna for dinner like Brad.
And whereas Brad would be struck with often pangs of homesickness, especially for one of her mom’s epic, hearty homespun casseroles, Kylie could merely traverse the Sepulveda pass to Encino to eat her mother’s cooking before trucking back to whatever parent-funded apartment she found herself living in at the time.
Kylie had it so good and never knew it or at least, recognized it, a fact that both bewildered and enraged Brad to no end.
Paige came into the living room breaking the momentary moment of tension between the girls carrying a ceramic pitcher filled with Brad’s flowers. Placing the jug on the coffee table, Brad looked up at Paige saying, “Oh Paige, they look so gorgeous in here.”
“I’ll be right back, just grabbing some wine,” Paige said as she milled about in the kitchen, the sounds of glasses clinking as Paige set them on the counter.
Just then, Brad heard the gravel out front crunch. Standing to look out the front window, Brad called out to Paige, “Sierra’s here and she brought Marion with her.”
Paige stuck her head out of the kitchen looking at the girls interjecting, “Oh yeah, I told Sierra to bring her, I figured us girls gotta be a united front on this.”
“Here, here,” Brad chimed in. Brad looked to Kylie for support but Kylie could barely summon a united front.
“Sierra,” Paige said brightly opening the front door and throwing her arms around Sierra’s shoulders. “My,” Paige exclaimed admiring Sierra’s outfit, “Don’t you look so cute.” Sierra had on a cute denim skirt, a canvas bag slung over her shoulder, sandals, a checkered shirt buttoned down to her cleavage and a beachy hat from under which her hair cascaded down upon her neck and shoulders.
“I brought you these,” Sierra announced happily hoisting a small Tupperware towards Paige, “Some deserts I made, and,” Sierra continued as she fished a bottle out of her bag, “Some wine, figured we could probably use it and I had to celebrate this new cute house.”
Paige nodded and happily took the bottle of wine and Tupperware before greeting Marion, “Marion, darling, don’t you just look positively stunning as always.”
Marion did look stunning, Paige thought, How could she ever slum it with Richard?
Paige hadn’t undersold Marion who looked just as chic as ever in her blue pants, crisp white blouse and matching navy blue blazer. Marion’s hair had been pulled up into a neat and tidy classic updo with nary a hair out of place.
Brad studied Marion’s style from the living room as she often did. Brad always envied how effortless Marion made her style look. No matter how well dressed or how many designer pieces Brad wore, she never felt like any of it fit, not in terms of tailoring but in terms of how Brad felt wearing it, she felt as if she were wearing some sort of costume.
As the girls gathered together on the sofa in the living room, Paige emerged with glasses for everyone with white wine.
“So, ladies,” Paige said leaning into the business at hand. “I know the wrap party is probably still fresh in your minds, or at least, I know it is in mine.” After a few moments of casual banter and shared compliments, the mood shifted as the weight of the past night’s debacle resurfaced.
The girls murmured as Paige continued, “I think it's safe to say I don't speak for anyone when I say that what Richard did to you, Brad, was totally unacceptable. And, Sierra, this was just after Richard carried on, the day of the finale shouting at you and being totally inappropriate. I can only speak for myself when I say that the way Richard behaved towards me at the party was crossing the line.”
“We’ve all seen Richard be plenty horrible to our fellow cast and crew, and, I think that we have the power and more importantly the position to say enough is enough and demand that this kind of behavior stop.”
“How do you propose we do that, Paige?” Kylie asked.
“Well,” Paige said sternly, “Richard is part of The Seven, and I think we as The Seven have to decide if we even want that kind of person as part of The Seven.”
“We have to get him off the show,” Marion said decisively.
“How?” Brad asked.
“I think we need to look at this like we would look at how the characters of Breakers would get rid of someone like Richard.”
“You mean like kill him?” Kylie asked with a sense of gallows humor.
“Metaphorically speaking,” Marion clarified holding her hand up.
“Going off what Marion is suggesting,” Paige continued, “I think that since the show is built around The Seven, we need to remind NexTV that we’re better united than divided and Richard is the dividing factor. So, since we still have to sign contracts for next season, what do you say we all go to the network and demand that we won’t sign unless Richard is forced to go to rehab?”
The girls nodded at each other in agreement.
“And,” Paige added, “Marion, Kylie, Sierra, Alex, and Brad have had to take his shit the most out of anyone so I will demand everyone else receive 10% raises while we’re at it.”
“What if they say no?” Brad asked.
“Then we walk away,” Paige declared.
“No way, just leave this all behind because of Richard?” Kylie asked angrily. “No fucking way.”
“We either go in together or not at all,” Paige said.
“And,” she added, “If you guys aren’t comfortable standing up, let me stand up for us.”
“Yeah,” Marion said, “Paige should speak for us. The network will shit its pants when the star of its biggest show goes all Norma Rae on their ass.”
“You don’t have to do that for us, Paige,” Kylie said.
“Not a question of having to,” Paige replied, “We came into this together and if this is the end of The Seven, then we go out together.”
Pinnacle Talent, Century City, March 1993
Lexi looked out over the towers of Century City as Paige looked on. As Lexi paced back and forth staring out over the towers, she spoke to Paige while taking drags off a long cigarette that she ashed into the heavy glass ashtray on her desk.
“Paige,” she said sternly, “What you’re asking for is, well, frankly, insane.”
“How so?” Paige asked incredulously.
“For starters,” Lexi continued, “I don’t even represent all the cast. So, to negotiate on behalf of the cast is out of the question. ”
“But you represent me,” Paige said, “So put all the cast’s demands into my negotiation.”
“You mean,” Lexi began, “You will shoulder all their demands? You’d really take that on?”
“In a heartbeat,” Paige said without thinking.
“Ok,” Lexi said, “So, let’s recap: Richard goes to rehab and the remaining cast gets $50,000 per episode or you, the girls and Alex all walk is that correct?”
“Absolutely,” Paige said.
“Now, Paige,” Lexi said with a tinge of caution, “What you’re asking is frankly insane—especially since I don’t represent the entire cast,’” Lexi said, her tone as sharp as the cigarette dangling from her fingertips. “I have to warn you that you’re making a very aggressive move on behalf of you and your cast mates. You have to be absolutely certain because if they say no, this is the end of the road on Breakers for all of you.”
It was a high-stakes ultimatum, the kind that would either redefine The Seven or tear them apart.
NexTV Headquarters, Burbank, March 1993
Paige, Brad, Kylie, Marion, Sierra and Alex filed into the conference room at the network’s headquarters accompanied by their respective agents.
Paige sat at the head of the table flanked by other various NexTV employees as everyone patiently waited for the proceedings to begin.
Marion, Brad and Sierra all looked at Paige giving her subtle thumbs ups to show their support.
The door opened and a tall figure in an expensive looking navy suit entered, Tom Silvers, Show Runner on Breakers. “Well, everyone,” Tom said clasping his hands scanning the table. “I really appreciate everyone coming in during hiatus to sort all this out, but before we begin,” he said motioning to his right, “This is Linda Cardona, from Business Affairs who will be sitting in on our discussion today. And I’m sure a lot of you know Tori Buchanan, head of Publicity for the show.”
“So,” Tom began, “Before we get started, I just want to preface the discussion by saying that we at the network and the show are so immensely proud of The Seven - we absolutely value and recognize all you’ve brought to the show and to the network. That being said, we have become acutely aware of the ‘challenges’ that have arisen in the production of the first season and we are willing to do whatever we can to find an amicable solution so that we can all move forward into a second season and beyond.
“Tom,” Paige said cooly, “That’s all good and well but let’s just get right to it: Richard goes to rehab, the cast gets $50k per episode or The Seven become The Zero. Easy as that,” she said in a slicing tone as she looked Lexi and the other agents in the room who nodded in agreement.
“So,” Tom replied stuttering slightly, “That’s where we are running into a bit of trouble.”
Paige stared straight ahead waiting for the news to hit her as Tom said, “Richard has asked for $80,000 per episode in return and has demanded Alex be fired for assault.”
“Bullshit,” Alex muttered.
Marion piped in, “If Alex goes, I go. And if Richard gets his way, I will make your life a living hell, Tori.”
Tori looked up from her notes narrowing her gaze at Marion as Marion continued,
“If you let Richard get his way, I will go public about our relationship, if you could even call it that,” Marion said lobbing her threat across the table as Tori squirmed in her seat.
As Marion saw Tori’s wheels turning, Marion landed her point more fully saying, “Picture it, Tori,” as Marion held her hands out in front of her as if imagining the headline on a magazine, “Breakers Beach’s Howard Kessler: Superstar Producer or Pimp? Producer demands Female stars trade sex for stardom. And, that’s just one headline I could think of off the top of my head, but I could go on if you’d like to imagine a few more?”
Tori recoiled in her seat imagining such a headline as Tom interjected holding his hand up, “Well, Marion, be fair, now.”
“Oh,” Marion said, “That was actually me being fair.”
“Well, We certainly wouldn’t want something so drastic to happen and on behalf of the show,” Tom said while clutching his chest attempting to appear earnest and sincere, “I am deeply sorry you feel that way.”
“And,” Paige said, “While we’re on the subject of apologies, who is going to apologize for my male cast mate assaulting me at the wrap party within full view of numerous other witnesses?”
Tom’s eyes darted across the table to Tori and then back to Linda who squeezed her eyes as if sending Tom some sort of signal.
A heavy silence fell over the room as Paige’s ultimatum hung in the air, the fate of The Seven balanced on a knife’s edge. “Please excuse us for a moment,” Tom said as he, Linda and Tori left the room for a moment as the cast and their representatives stewed in tense silence.
After a few minutes, Tom, Linda and Tori returned to their seats as the girls and Alex looked at each other nervously awaiting the network’s decision.
“Welcome to Season 2 of Breakers, everyone,” Tom happily announced as the cast sighed a deep breath of relief.
Clasping his hands together, Tom announced to the group, “We’ll request Richard goes to rehab during hiatus so he can return when we resume production on Season 2.
“Well, everyone,” Paige said, “We did it,” as the group walked out of the network to their cars in the parking lot which felt like standing on the surface of a griddle on account of the sweltering San Fernando Valley sun.
“Actually,” Alex interjected, “You did it. Thank you so much, Paige, on behalf of all of us.”
“I just can’t believe,” Brad said breathlessly turning her face upwards towards the sun, “Richard is finally out of our way.”
But unfortunately for The Seven, like all great TV cliffhangers, they would have to wait to see how this storyline in their lives fully played out.
Next time on The Sins of the Seven:
A night out takes a turn for Alex. As a scandal brews, help comes from an unexpected source.
THE SINS OF THE SEVEN
WEDNESDAYS ON Rhodes Ave Press