The Sins of the Seven 07 Diligence: Brad, Sierra, & Alex
Every Secret Has a Price
Enjoy the seventh chapter of Rhodes Ave. Press’ novel, The Sins of the Seven.
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Boobs ‘n’ Brews, Ocean Front Walk, Venice, June 1992
Brad was washing glasses behind the bar when a devilishly handsome man sat down across from her. “Here’s a menu,” she said cheerfully passing it over the bar to the man.
Brad handed the menu over with a wry smile. “Anything you recommend?”
“Just a burger and a Michelob,” the man replied, his eyes twinkling.
Brad scribbled down the order and pulled a frosty mug from the freezer, carefully filling it with beer.
“Thanks,” he said as he dropped the coaster in front of him.
Sierra, from the far end of the bar, nudged Brad. "He’s totally checking you out,” she whispered.
Brad chuckled, ‘I’m not so sure, but it’s a nice thought.’”
“Thanks,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. Sierra, tending the far end of the bar turned on her foot and caught the interaction between Brad and the man. Sierra beckoned Brad to join her at the other end of the bar.
“He’s totally checking you out, you know,” Sierra said referring to the man flipping her hair over her shoulder casually.
“Oh, Si,” Brad replied. “I totally don’t think he is but you’re sweet for saying so.”
“You wanna bet?” Sierra asked. “C’mon,” Sierra said grabbing Brad by the hand and practically skipping back to the other end of the bar. “Just play along,” Sierra said to Brad.
“Hi,” Sierra said in an overly chipper voice. The man stopped sipping his beer to take in Sierra. “Anything else we can get you while you wait?” Sierra said in her chipper tone. The man thought for a moment before saying, “Actually, I’d love a side of fries with the burger if it’s not too much trouble?” Sierra pulled the order pad out of her shorts pocket and the pen from behind her ear.
“Absolutely not a problem, darlin’” she said as she scribbled on the pad and deposited it on the kitchen window. Turning back towards the man, Sierra brought out her biggest, widest smile, “I’m Sierra, nice to meet you,” she said as she stretched her hand out across the bar to shake the man’s hand.
“Rodger,” he said sternly as he shook her hand in return.
“And this is my friend Brad,” Sierra added motioning for Brad to shake Rodger’s hand. “Hi, Rodger,” Brad said shyly.
“What brings you down to this part of Venice?” Sierra asked coyly, “You don’t look like a tourist.”
“Well,” Rodger replied, “I’m actually working down here today and I just got hungry. I was walking down the beach and saw this place and thought I’d check it out.”
“What do you do?” Sierra asked.
“I’m actually down here looking for fresh new faces for a TV show I’m working on,” Rodger replied.
“That’s awesome!” Sierra replied excitedly, “Brad and I are aspiring actresses, you know,” Sierra said as she poked out her chest towards Rodger hoping he’d notice her cleavage.
“Anything I would have seen you in?” Rodger asked sincerely.
“Not unless you happened to pop into Melrose Theater Company lately,” Sierra said.
“I’m still waiting for that big break to come in,” Sierra said.
“Well,” Rodger said, “you definitely both have that fresh-faced look I’m looking for and you’ve certainly proved to be entertaining today, so,” Rodger said as he motioned to Sierra for her order pad.
Sierra handed Rodger the pad and her pen. Rodger pulled off two slips of paper and wrote down an address saying, “Be here 10 AM, Friday and come armed with a monologue.”
“We are on it,” Sierra said looking at Brad, smiling.
Ocean Front Walk, Venice, CA, June 1992
Several open containers of Chinese takeout and several bottles of wine had overtaken Brad and Sierra’s coffee table.
Brad stood in her silk kimono robe, her hair pulled into a messy bun as she confidently practiced her monologue from The Merry Wives of Windsor.
As if speaking to a royal court in the form of Sierra sitting on the sofa sipping wine, Brad proclaimed:
There is an old tale goes that Herne the hunter,
Sometime a keeper here in Windsor forest,
Doth all the winter-time, at still midnight,
Walk round about an oak, with great ragg'd horns;
And there he blasts the tree and takes the cattle
And makes milch-kine yield blood and shakes a chain
In a most hideous and dreadful manner:
You have heard of such a spirit, and well you know
The superstitious idle-headed eld
Received and did deliver to our age
This tale of Herne the hunter for a truth.
“Bravo!” Sierra cheered, clapping for Brad.
“You don’t think I sounded too stiff did you?” Brad pleaded with Sierra.
“You?” Sierra asked incredulously, “Pfft, you had that amazing way of acting that I envy where it just feels like it flows from you.”
“I’m the one,” Sierra continued, “Who always feels like a stiff robot trying to act.”
“I’m sure you’re going to be stellar,” Brad said before taking on her role as the casting director announcing, “Next up, please state your name and what you’re reading.”
Sierra snapped into her role standing up straight and announcing, “Sierra Waggoner, I’ll be performing Babe from ‘Crimes of The Heart.’
Sierra began her monologue, her voice trembling slightly at the beginning but quickly regaining it’s clip.
“After that, I don’t remember much too clearly; let’s see… I went on into the living room, and I went right up to the davenport and opened the drawer where we keep the burglar gun, I took it out,”
“Then I—I brought it up to my ear, That’s right. I put it right inside my ear, Why, I was gonna shoot off my own head! That’s what I was gonna do.”
“Then I heard the back door slamming and suddenly, for some reason, I thought about mama…how she’d hung herself, And here I was about ready to shoot myself, Then I realized—that’s right I realized how I didn’t want to kill myself!”
“And she—she probably didn’t want to kill herself, She wanted to kill him and I wanted to kill him, too.
I wanted to kill Zackery, not myself ‘Cause I__ I wanted to live! So I waited for him to come on into the living room. Then I held out the gun, and I pulled the trigger, aiming for his heart, but getting him in the stomach… It’s funny that I really did that.”
As Sierra finished her monologue she brought the imaginary gun down to her side as Brad excitedly clapped, “Wow, Si, that was amazing, I was really feeling where you were taking me. I almost thought you’d shoot yourself with that gun.”
Brad poured another glass of wine which she hoisted into Sierra’s hand. Sierra collapsed onto the sofa next to Brad, the two girls clinked glasses and giggled as they sipped.
The next day, the girls weren’t scheduled to work until the night shift at Boobs ‘n’ Brews so the girls decided to hit the sand to get an extra sun-kissed look for the audition tomorrow. The girls popped into The Litehouse - the Litehouse, as it was known to the locals was a small market just off the Ocean Front Walk.
Over the years, The Litehouse had evolved from a simple liquor store into a market providing sundries, drinks and sandwiches from a small deli counter.
The Litehouse also held a particular place in Brad and Sierra’s hearts as it was this meeting place that brought their destinies together. Just a year before, Brad had just arrived in Los Angeles from Texas. On account of not truly understanding how Los Angeles worked, Brad naively thought she’d like to live “at the beach.”
Luckily, Brad managed to snag a rent-controlled studio not far from the beach. Brad’s income was from a filing job at a law office on Wilshire in Mid-City but the hours were long and the commute, even longer.
On top of Brad’s hours, Brad was also putting in extra time and mileage to attend acting classes at the Sunset Theater Stage in Hollywood.
Frustrated by LA’s notorious rush hour, Brad began looking for other work closer to home that would free up her time which she hoped would be soon filled with auditions as opposed to sig Alerts.
One day, while perusing The Litehouse, Brad saw a posting on the store’s community board. The posting on neon yellow paper was advertising a roommate situation in a “large 2 bedroom condo” on the Ocean Front Walk.
Brad leapt at the opportunity and called the number on the flier.
Upon arriving to tour the condo, Brad was struck by the fact that the building was practically on the Ocean Front Walk itself. From the building’s gated entrance, Brad could hear the waves crashing and the cool breeze off the water.
Upon meeting Sierra that day, Brad felt as if she had gained a sister she never had — the two quickly bonding over their shared pursuit of acting. Within a weeks time, Brad was living at 3223 Ocean Front Walk #3 and shortly thereafter was slinging burgers and beers to tourists in a tight t-shirt alongside Sierra at Boobs ’n’ Brews.
As the girls hit the sand, they staked out a spot, Brad and Sierra unfurled their towels on the sand. Sierra produced a few chilled Snapples from her bag and handed Brad a bottle slicked with condensation.
The girls oiled themselves up with baby oil and laid back upon their towels as they felt their skin sizzle in the sun which had just emerged from behind the morning’s smog layer.
“You look amazing,” Brad said commenting on Sierra’s figure.
Indeed, Sierra did look stunning, if not slightly self-conscious. While Sierra’s body snapped back quickly from having Sonja, Sierra still felt self conscious being in her bikini. For years afterwards while she waited for her stretch marks to fade, Sierra consciously avoided any and all opportunity to bear her skin - a tricky feat when living within a stone’s throw of the beach for the last few years.
For so long now, Sierra had relied upon beachy shawls and coverups to hide her hips and stomach. Being around Brad had made Sierra slightly more open and comfortable especially considering that the girls shared a bathroom. But undressing would always cause Sierra to pause and proceed with caution lest anyone discover her secret she tried to hard to hide away, both from the world and herself.
Boobs ‘n’ Brews, Ocean Front Walk, Venice, CA, July 1992
Sierra and Brad’s last day at Boobs ‘n’ Brews was more like a party at spring break than it were a day of work.
From the moment the girls arrived at work, they were regaled with shots and high fives from the other girls who worked with them behind the bar.
Rachel, the hostess came over to the bar in the middle of the lunch rush. In her throaty, raspy voice, Rachel said to Brad as she washed mugs, “Babe.”
Brad turned her head up to look at Rachel who said, “You realize that’s one of the last mugs you’re going to wash as a mere mortal?”
“Ah, Rach,” Brad said, “Si and I will be back here to visit you every chance we get.”
Rachel said, “Sure you will, babe. Well, I’m really happy for you both.”
“Thanks, Rach.” Brad said in her most chipper tone.
“But you realize,” Rachel continued, “You right now cleaning that mug is probably going to be the last time you’re ever going to be doing such a menial job for some time.”
“I’m probably not even going to be like a major character or anything. I mean, I’m supposed to be a surf instructor,” Brad said as humbly as possible.
“No matter what you’re going to be on that show,” Rachel said, “You’re going to be doing something that’s so much bigger than working in this shithole here and I’m so proud of you and so happy for you both.”
Brad looked up from washing mugs and said, “Thank you so much, Rach. I am really gonna miss you.”
“Now,” Rachel said, “Quit washing those stupid fucking mugs and let’s do a shot.”
Later that day, as Boobs ‘n’ Brews morphed into a makeshift party, the atmosphere was electric with farewell cheers.
‘Brad, these are probably the last mugs you’ll ever wash as a mortal,’ Rachel teased, handing Brad a jigger.
With a devilish smile, Brad mixed up a final round of shots, “These are the last Boobs ‘n’ Bruisers I’m ever going to make,” she declared, clinking glasses with her friends.
Amid laughter and toasts, Brad felt a bittersweet pang—the end of an era mingling with the promise of something bigger.
The two girls smiled at each other, clinked the shot glasses and drank to Brad’s newfound success.
As day turned into night, the atmosphere of the bar had grown even more rowdy than normal. An endless parade of the girls’ friends and co-workers turned the bar into a defacto party to mark the girls’ final day.
Even Bernie, the owner of The Litehouse stopped by to toast to the girls’ success. It was as if all of Venice had stopped by to toast the girls on their way to stardom.
As the party reached fever pitch, Andrew, the house DJ announced over the sound system, “Attention, everyone!”
The patrons stopped to hear what he had to say.
“Today is a very special day at Boobs ‘n’ Brews. We are excited to announce that two of our BnB family are going to be leaving us.”
Sierra and Brad began turning red with embarrassment.
“Sierra and Brad,” Andrew said pointing towards the girls who waved nervously, “Are leaving us today - you can see them on the new drama Breakers Beach’ airing on NexTV TV this fall! These girls have always driven me crazy so let’s give them some Boobs ‘n’ Brews love before they leave us for the big time.”
The crowd erupted into rapturous applause as Max put on Fine Young Cannibals’ ‘She Drives Me Crazy,’” as the crowd hoisted their drinks in the air pulsing with celebratory energy.
Sunset Blvd., West Hollywood, CA, July 1993
The Seven stood with Howard on the corner of Sunset & Larabee surrounded by the most recognizable landmarks of the fabled Sunset Strip.
Day was turning into night as Richard kept nervously checking his watch. “Surely the sun must be down enough by now,” Richard said.
The Seven were waiting for the unveiling of their new billboards on the Strip.
Howard had gathered the cast to see the billboards just as the lights of the Strip clicked on.
The billboards in question had been covered by black tarps in anticipation for the unveiling.
Paige nervously paced back and forth on the sidewalk.
“What are you worried about?” Brad asked. “I’m the one with the awful picture, remember?”
“Oh, B,” Paige said sweetly, “It’s Alex’s photo I’m worried about. I turned it into the creative department but I never heard anything back. I just hope they liked it because if they don’t, I fear it will just crush poor Alex.”
“Well,” Brad said, “That may be true but you stood up for Alex and that was an incredibly noble thing to do.”
The lights of the Strip began clicking on. Paige looked at Alex who looked as if he were holding his breath. Paige noticed Richard tuned into Alex’s fearful expression. Richard reached out put his arm around Alex’s shoulder.
“Thanks Richard,” Alex said looking into Richard’s eyes.
Suddenly the black tarps were set free from their moorings and dropped.
Paige gasped upon seeing her billboard. The next one to drop was Kylie followed shortly by Marion, Brad and Sierra.
“I look hideous,” Brad said under her breath.
“Oh Sierra,” Paige said breathlessly, “It’s stunning.”
A tarp across the street dropped revealing Richard’s visage. Richard looked on looking quite pleased with himself. The last tarp to drop was actually above The Seven’s heads.
Alex and Paige craned their necks up to see the original photo of Alex with the woman’s arm on his leg pawing at his crotch.
“I don’t even know what to say,” Paige said angrily towards Howard.
“Look, Paige,” Howard said defensively, “I appreciate your hard work but we ultimately did what was best for the show.”
“At the expense of Alex?” Paige said angrily.
“The needs of the many, my dear, Paige,” Howard retorted.
“Well, the many can kindly fuck off,” Paige sneered turning her back towards Howard.
The Seven stood stewing in silence before Kylie broke the tension, “I’m going to Chasen’s for a late dinner if anyone wants to come.”
The group silently separated and went their separate ways. The billboard unveiling had temporarily splintered The Seven in unseen ways large and small that would affect The Seven for months to come.
NexTV Studios, Burbank, CA, March 1994
“I just can’t do it, Si,” Brad moaned laying on the couch in her trailer.
The Seven was heading into the first shoot day for the Season 2 finale. Season 2 had proven to be a massive ratings hit for NexTV. Coming out of the highly-rated season premiere which resolved the “who burned down The Breakers?” cliffhanger storyline, the show kept surging in the ratings hitting another ratings high with the much hyped post-Super Bowl episode that saw the opening of the newly-repaired Breakers Club in an episode that was studded with celebrity cameos and proved to be a ratings bonanza.
While ratings surged alongside the popularity of The Seven, Brad unfortunately still found her relationship with Jo becoming less favorable.
As ratings climbed higher and higher, so did the storylines for the boys and the other girls. While the others had high wattage storylines, Jo was still being relegated to a side character who drifted from tawdry affair to tawdry affair. Each new storyline proved to be more uninspired and unglamorous than the last. Brad began feeling as if she had become some sort of prop - like an ugly lamp that kept getting moved out of sight when company came over.
Heading into the season finale, The Seven were clamoring to discover what the show’s big twist ending for the season would be. After all, after Season 1’s massively popular cliffhanger, it seemed that another big twist ending would be inevitable.
Brad was left wondering what Jo’s role in this big twist and the show’s overall future would be. After all, a twist ending was incredibly terrifying because it could spell death for Jo or worse.
As Season 2 came to a close, the last few episodes had featured a serial killer on the loose in Breakers Bay. The Seven all assumed that one of their respective characters could easily become the killer’s next victim or, more realistically, their character could be pegged as the killer and sent to an untimely and ultimately tragic end.
Early in 1994 as contract negotiations for Season 4 began, Brad began digging her heels in with her agent, Marianne. Brad demanded more screen time, more character development and most importantly a hefty pay raise.
“C’mon, Brad,” Sierra prodded, “It’s just a table read.”
“Yeah, but I just can’t face discovering what fresh new hell the writers have dreamed up for Jo,” Brad said.
“Hey,” Sierra said, “You never know, you could be the one who discovers the identity of the killer and stops them in their tracks.”
“True, or I could be a body hacked up in a ditch,” Brad said wearily.
“At least you’d never have to don a wetsuit again,” Sierra said trying to cheer up Brad.
Sierra checked her watch before saying, “C’mon let’s get to the table read before they send a PA looking for us.”
The girls stepped into Artists’ Alley just as Richard and Alex were emerging from Richard’s trailer clutching Diet Cokes. Brad was still not entirely used to seeing the two of them looking so friendly and congenial considering that not long ago they were heated enemies.
Paige and Kylie came up behind the girls as they walked into the writers’ offices headed towards the table read.
As the girls entered, they took their seats around the table where scripts for each of them were waiting.
As the table read kicked off, the Writers’ Room PA announced, “Ok, everyone, here we go with "Breakers Beach", Season 3, episode twenty five, ‘Truth Be Told.’” And The Seven began reading to discover their fates.
As The Seven poured out of the production office following the table read, Paige spat, “What complete and utter bullshit. I mean, who the fuck do they think they are?”
“No way, this is absolutely not going to fly,” Paige said angrily pacing outside the writer’s building.
As Paige returned to Artist’s alley, she began nervously pacing the alley chain smoking cigarettes as Kylie and Sierra attempted to console her.
“I mean, how dare they?” Paige cried to the girls. “I practically made this show and they’re going to turn my character into some psycho murdering bitch? They might as well just have killed me off.”
Paige, stopped pacing just long enough to make a phone call on her mobile phone to her agent Marcy.
“Marcy,” Paige barked, “I have just HAD it.”
Paige attempted to calm herself slightly while she explained the writers’ latest plot development to Marcy.
“Well,” Paige said in an exasperated tone, “They WILL change their minds or I won’t film the finale.”
Noticing this exchange, Brad wandered over to Paige’s trailer and sat on the steps smoking a cigarette while Paige paced.
“And yes, that’s final,” Paige said angrily hanging up the phone.
“Paige,” Brad said, “It’s totally wrong what they’re trying to do to you.”
“Oh, Brad,” Paige cried throwing her arms around Brad.
“I’m not doing it,” Paige said, “I’m not filming the finale.”
“If you don’t film,” Brad said stiffening, “They will come after you for breach of contract.”
“Let ‘em,” Paige said defiantly.
9033 Elevado Ave, West Hollywood, CA, April 1994
Alex turned onto Elevado as he stumbled out of the Firehouse late one night. Season 3 had just finished wrapping and Alex was on a one man mission to blow off some steam at the Firehouse where he could dance with the word of nameless and faceless clubgoers safe from the prying lenses of the paparazzi.
But there was something about this solo outing that stood out to Alex like a sharpened thought in his mind as if the evening was teeming with electricity waiting to catch a spark.
After all, it was on a night like this nearly one year before when Alex met the dark and handsome stranger, Ian in what promised to have been an equally exciting night. However, for all the charm and adventure Ian offered, he was equally hiding a dark, deceptive side in that he tried to turn what was meant to be a night of clandestine passion into a tabloid-lobbed weapon.
In the year since, Alex dwelled on that night in particular replaying the night’s events over and over in his mind - had Ian targeted him for some sort of cheap payday? Or was it merely a case of coincidence that Alex’s overactive mind had since swelled into something far more nefarious? Whatever the real reason may have been, Alex consciously avoided the Firehouse in the year since knowing that his once safe haven had been violated.
Tonight’s visit to the Firehouse was a return to form however, Alex consciously neglected to bring home a hook up - better to err on the side of caution he told himself.
As Alex opened the small gate to his bungalow off Elevado, he could still hear the roar of the bars on Santa Monica Blvd. a few streets over but something took his mind off the hubbub as he noticed the silhouette of a dark figure sitting on the steps of the bungalow’s stoop.
Alex took a few steps towards the stoop cautiously as the figure stood and moved towards him slowly.
“Hello?” Alex called out meagerly.
“Alex,” a raspy voice croaked as the figure extended a hand towards Alex. Alex took the hand in his feeling the skin dry and cracked against his skin like crinkled cellophane.
“We should talk,” the voice continued.
The figure pulled Alex closer and in the dim streetlights Alex could see the face of Ian staring back at him.
Alex lead Ian inside where he could more clearly see Ian’s face in the light. Ian still had the handsome angular features that drew Alex to him in the first place but his face had morphed into something altogether different, his eyes now hollow, dark, and deeply recessed into his skull.
Ian’s hands were also covered in spots of which Alex would soon learn the source.
Alex brewed a pot of coffee and sat across from Ian with his legs crossed on the sofa clutching a coffee mug.
Ian pierced the uncomfortable silence. “I don’t know how to tell you this, exactly,” he said uneasily. “So I’m afraid I just have to kind of blurt it out.”
“I’m dying, Alex,” Ian said bluntly as Alex absorbed the blow. “It’s HIV,” Ian said as Alex reeled from the revelation.
Alex trying to put it all together asked, “Wait, What? Did you infect me?”
“It’s possible,” Ian stammered, “All I know is, I am positive and I owe it to you to tell you to go get tested as soon as possible.”
“I also owe it to you to tell you I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you and now I’m afraid I’ve done more damage than I ever could’ve imagined,” Ian said.
Unfortunately the damage was done as Alex sat in silence, his coffee mug propped on his knee as he felt his soul peel away from his damaged outer shell and fall into a deep dark void within.
Next time on The Sins of the Seven:
Power plays, manipulation, and betrayal—a new enemy sinks her claws deeper, Richard spirals, and Paige fights to keep control as the spotlight grows hotter than ever.
THE SINS OF THE SEVEN
WEDNESDAYS ON Rhodes Ave Press