**Warning: The full story is no longer on this site. Please go to my profile for details.**
Life as a public relations director is hectic, but I'm used to hectic. Chaotic, disordered, frenzied, messy; all of these words could describe an average day of an elementary school substitute teacher. Kids throwing paper airplanes, pinching or biting other kids, throwing temper tantrums, using cuss words, wailing over a scraped knee and oh, here's one of my personal favourite nightmares, picking their nose and chasing other children with the bugger on their outstretched finger.
So right, hectic… bring it on. People wonder how I could have gone through such a transition in careers. I mean, how often does an average, run-of-the-mill teacher hop on a plane and start ordering around the stars from Tinsel Town a.k.a. Hollywood? Everyone thinks Hollywood is this great, modern-day, fairytale kingdom. Boy, are they ever wrong. Fairytales don't exist in Hollywood. Tinsel Town can be downright dark and depressing at times, it's why so many people are hooked on Zantac.
People's dreams are crushed, they are used, married for money and unless you are somebody big with crowds of fans, then you are nobody. It was my job to turn those no bodies into some bodies. Either way, I went from teaching bratty, snotty children in a private school to helping make their narcissistic, egocentric parents richer and more famous. To tell you the truth, it's not so different from teaching.
At school, you keep the kids busy. If they are busy, they won't get bored and into mischief. Actors and actresses are older, that means mischief for them often results in them going to court or getting arrested. So I keep them busy. I have them booked for talk shows, radio shows, appearances at concerts and the occasional book signing. Apparently anyone can write a book these days. In the evening, there are galas, premieres, must-attend parties, award shows and etc. Even these I can deal with, but it's the after parties that are killer.
It's like letting the kids go out to recess. You warn them to behave themselves and keep their hands to themselves or else. If the kids didn't follow the rules, they'd have detentions. If actors didn't follow the rules, they'd be defending themselves against drug related charges or assault. But the one important thing you teach kids is to treat others the way you wish to be treated.
With stars, you only get this treatment when the camera is rolling or the press is around. Otherwise, most of them are too far gone to understand this concept. Many of the actresses treated me as the help. A little minion who would scurry around her to keep her face plastered on billboards, magazine covers, and newspapers. The actors treated me like a nag. I was someone who forced them up at ungodly hours, heaven forbid they wake up before noon, someone who counted their every drink and scolded them for touching an under-aged girl.
Alright, I must make this clear. Not all actors and actresses are like this. Most of them are, in their own way, almost normal. They aren't all disagreeable, bitchy and self-absorbed. However, the ones I get settled down with normally are. See, Jared, my boss, noticed that I was really good with the fussy actors and actresses. The ones who thought they were divas and the actors who thought all women worshipped the ground they walked on. I would simply try different tactics and go with the one that worked. It's something I learned from being a teacher. With a class of about thirty children, you need to find out who the rowdy students are and how to settle them down fast.
And how has this ability come back to bite me in the ass? Simple, now I am in charge of the Black Files. These are the actors and actresses that are every PR director's nightmare. Think about that one snot-nosed kid in the neighborhood who went through dozens and dozens of babysitters. If someone babysat them once, they would never think about doing it again. They'd sooner book themselves into a mental asylum than go back to baby-sit that Hell demon bent on destruction for a paltry ten bucks. Yes, those are the kind of people I get, the Hell demons.
There was Jessica Marsh. She was a brilliant actress. She won an endless number of awards. She always got the character down to a T. She was like Play-Doh, moldable so she could play any part. She would spend six months before shooting the film in complete character so she could be realistic on the silver screen.
While she was my nightmare, she was working on a movie And Then There Was One. It was about a fictional female psychopathic killer. I recall waking up at one in the morning to find her standing above my bed with scissors in her hands. Her character really liked cutting people up. She called it "research". She's dead now though. She was doing "research" for a movie about a recovering drug abuser and overdosed.
Oh and then there was Callum Edwards. Now, Callum was a great man to work with. He was easy going and listened to everything I said. That man was going places. Then why was he on the Black Files? Because of Manny. He wasn't an actor. He was Callum's brother. Always went wherever his big brother went. Which meant in order to keep Callum out of trashy tabloids, we had to watch his brother as well. I can't even count how many fifteen year old girls I had to pry out of his clutches. Callum finally sent Manny home and another PR director is now handling him.
So now one must wonder, who is my current nightmare? He was supposed to meet me in my office before lunch, the office I barely use since I am, more often than not, chasing down my AWOL actor or begging the police not to arrest my actress. Anyhow he's two hours late. I normally give them three hours and if they aren't where they are supposed to be… I hunt them down. But this actor is normally punctual. He normally does what I tell him to do without a qualm, too. And no, he doesn't have a brother Manny chasing after girls in training bras either.
So why is Kiernan Maitland on the Black Files? Just because most of the PR people are afraid of him. In most of his movies, he plays the villain and he is really, really good at that. He has the ability to stop you in your tracks and make your blood run cold with a single look. Indeed I believe those were the very words of a bank robber who aborted his robbery attempt when he became victim to the 'Maitland stare'.
Not that Kiernan always plays the villain. He was the good guy in a couple of flicks too. Yes there was the one where he was a Scottish warlord, who with the aid of a handful of his trustworthy men, slaughtered English opponents and saved his clan. There was also Avenging Angel where his six year old daughter, Angel was killed because she witnessed a mob hit. Kiernan goes in with his Uzi and methodically kills every last man, or woman, who was tied in with the mob.
Mostly Kiernan sticks to horror movies. I normally try to watch the movies of my clients. They have a tendency of asking me about their work, whether because of uncertainty of their talent or just the need to hear someone flatter them. Either way, I couldn't watch most of Kiernan's work. I'm still trying to stop the nightmares from the one movie of his I did have the misfortune of seeing.
He has never asked though. I only really talk when I have to tell him his schedules and other things he ought to know and he only really talks to me when there are conflicts in his schedule or other things he thinks I ought to know. Otherwise we are often at the same show, same party, same event, but doing different things. I keep an eye on him of course, but I never have to tell him that he should start drinking water instead of liquor or that maybe he should consider leaving now. He does it all on his own. He may not talk to me or really acknowledge my presence, but I know he is always aware that I am there.
He's not condescending where he doesn't acknowledge me because he believes I am beneath him and I cannot say in all honesty that he ignores me. Sometimes I swear I can feel his gaze on my back, but when I turn around, he isn't watching me. Curse all actors, but I often wonder if he does stare at me or if it is simply a case of an overactive imagination.
His first name means 'little dark one' and it suits him except for the 'little' part. Kiernan is six-foot-four and has a muscular body, but not to the point where he had to have his clothes custom tailored to fit over his biceps or quads. He was strong and male. He could easily break an arm or snap a wrist, but his strength was toned down and he didn't come close to resembling those big, bulky men who attended those weight lifting competitions.
His hair was… five points to whoever guesses it… yes, it was black. He had glorious, thick jet hair that made one want to run their hands through it. His facial features were often described harsh, yet it was attractive in a primitive way. His full, supple lips hinted at gentleness lurking beneath the surface, but that was overshadowed by his molten grey eyes. One couldn't imitate the 'Maitland stare' because those grey eyes were a big part of it.
At times, I will admit I find it unnerving to stare into those eyes. There is always some unknown emotion there, but veiled so you can't identify it, just be aware of its presence. I sometimes wonder if he purposely looks at me with those eyes to see if I will be frightened away. I've watched him with others and he doesn't look at them like that. Not in the same way. However, from watching the trailers of his movies, I knew that he could drain away all emotion from his eyes, leaving them cold, vast and empty and that was just downright terrifying.