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The driver stares at ht," I say tensely "O-kay"
I open a gate and then it closes autoh the darkened garden while REM’s "How the West Was Won" plays and above hts in so The back door that leads into the kitchen is half-open and after I’ve walked in and closed it there’s that series of electronic beeps I h the space-nobody’s downstairs, there’s no sign of the crew, everything’s spotless I pull an Evian out of the fridge A video-the end of Die Hard 2-silently plays on the giant TV, credits roll, then the tape starts rewinding itself I brush confetti off the giant pistachio-colored sofa and lie doaiting for so toward the stairs leading up to the bedroo of the tape being rewound and the REM song fading I vaguely iether, ; but after that, nothing
A script lies on the coffee table and absently I pick it up, open it to a rando soetting dressed for another party, a line of dialogue ("what if you beca "Fall asleep," is what I iine the director would whisper
2
Wakened suddenly out of a brief dreah when I openroo vacantly that the script I fell asleep reading has disappeared I pick up the Evian bottle, take a long, deep s and carry it with h the house, past spaces where so In the kitchen I’erator for what seee noise belowsound, followed by hts in the kitchen dim once, then twice I look up, quietly say "Hello" to ain
Because of the way the set is lit, a door I never noticed in a hallway adjacent to the kitchen practically glo A frahes on a beach, shirtless, white Speedos, i a near-naked Cindy Crawford standing next to hi directly into the calass it’s encased in and the door sloings open onto a staircase dotted with confetti andit suddenly is and then I’ toward the bottohts di down a plain, undecorated hallway, one ar the cold brick wall that lines this corridor, hu to myself-hush hush, keep it do, voices carry-and I’ toward a door with another Calvin Klein poster on it, another beach scene, another shot of Bobby proudly baring his abdonored behind hi in front of it, straining to asse on a sound track where the volu I’m supposed to turn, and piles of confetti are scattered all over the concrete floor
Vacantly, in this instant, I’e Michael concert I attended just days after she died, the azaleas on the block we lived on in Georgetown, a party where no one was crying, the hat Lauren Hynde gave me in New York, the tiny red rose on that hat A final sip of Evian and I turn the handle, shrugging, the lights diain
"It’s what you don’t know that matters most," the director said
Movement behindtowardyellow rubber gloves that run all the way up to her elbows
I smile at her
"Victor," she shouts "No-don’t-"
The door swings open
I turn, confused, looking into the rooarbled behind me
Fitness equipment has been pushed aside into the corners of what looks like a soundproofed room and a mannequin made from wax covered in either oil or Vaseline, slathered with it, lies twisted on its back in some kind of horrible position on a steel exas spread open and chained to stirrups, its scrotum and anus completely exposed, both arms locked back behind its head, which is held up by a rope connected to a hook in the, ceiling