All I ever wanted was the world.

For nearly all of my life, I have wanted to be an actress — Greta Garbo, Norma Shearer, Mabel Normand. I wanted my name to be counted among them. I wanted people to stand in long lines to see my newest film. I wanted to be loved.

All of that led me to this moment. I was being awarded for my performance in my latest film. A man in a tuxedo handed me the award, and I was kissed on the cheek by a woman in an evening gown. The audience applauded as they gave me a standing ovation. Some of them were wiping tears from their eyes. Me, I thought. All of this for me. Before I was able to give my speech, I was shoved forward, causing me to fall onto the wooden floor.

“Louise,” Mama exclaimed. “Wake up! You’re late. You need to help your brother.”

As I arose from the floor, I wiped the dust off my nightgown. It was only a dream. I made my bed, dressed, and I went to work in the laundry downstairs, which was owned by our landlord. We worked in his laundry for room and board in his one–room apartment upstairs.

My brother scoffed as I walked downstairs and began working. His name was Daniel, but we always called him “Dee.” He asked, “Where were you? I’ve had to do all the work myself for the past hour and a half. Good for nothing!”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I went to sleep late last night.”

“I know,” Dee replied. “You were at the moviehouse again, weren’t you?”

“Maybe,” I mumbled. “Does it matter?”

“It matters when you’re wasting money Mama and I work hard for,” Dee snapped. “If you pulled your slack around here, you could go to the moviehouse anytime you wanted.”

Mama walked downstairs, and she asked, “What are you two doing?”

“We’re working, Mama,” I answered, but Dee interrupted me.

“She wants to spend money, but not work for it.”

“It sounds like neither of you are working,” Mama scolded. “Get back to it.”

Mama, Dee, and I worked in the laundry for twelve hours, 10 A. M. to 10 P. M. Mama checked the customers’ clothes in and out, Dee washed and dried their clothes, and I hung the laundered clothes on a rack with wire hangers. Mama used one of her two breaks of the day to cook supper, which we sat down to eat at 11 P. M.

After we blessed our meal, Dee hungrily lapped up his bowl of stew, while Mama and I ate more slowly. Between sips from her spoon, Mama asked, “Where were you last night, Louise?”

“What do you mean, Mama?”

“When I went to bed, you weren’t here. Where were you?”

“I was at the moviehouse,” I mumbled.

“I can’t hear you,” Mama said. “Speak up.”

“I was at the moviehouse, Mama.”

Mama looked at me, coolly, as she asked, “Why are you spending money you haven’t earned?”

“Tell her, Mama,” Dee interjected, but Mama raised her left hand to silence him.

“I worked all week, Mama,” I answered. “I wanted to relax. . . .”

Before I was able to finish my sentence, Mama threw her bowl of stew into my face. The lukewarm broth and shreds of beef and carrots fell from my hair into my lap. I wiped my eyes with my handkerchief as Mama stood up from the table.

“Who do you think you are?” Mama spat. “You don’t know what it’s like to work hard. I wish you did. If only you knew how hard I work everyday to give you and your brother beds to sleep in, clothes to wear, and food to eat.”

“I appreciate how hard you work, Mama,” I said. “I’m saying I work hard, too.”

“If you work so hard, Louise, then you should be resting,” Mama said. Reaching over and grabbing my bowl of stew, she continued, “Go to bed. You’ve eaten enough.”

“Mama, I’m hungry. . . .”

“Go to bed.”

Tears welled up in my eyes as I stood up from the table, but I wiped them away. I washed my face, dressed in my nightgown, and I went to bed. Mama filled a new bowl, sat back down, and continued her meal with Dee. Pangs of hunger kept me awake most of the night, but I was eventually able to fall asleep.

On the following morning, Mama and Dee were still sleeping when I woke up. 7 A. M. Three hours before work. Sneaking out of bed, I went to the kitchen, and I ate what remained of the stew in the stewpot. It was cold and slimy, but it was food.

“What are you doing?”

I turned around, and I saw Dee, out of bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“I’m washing the dishes,” I lied. “I’ll get ready for work soon.”

I finished washing the dishes as Dee readied himself for work in the bathroom. Mama woke up shortly thereafter, and she went into the bathroom to wash her face. She left her drawer in the wardrobe open. I looked inside at her beautiful dresses, which I was forbidden to wear. Although I could not wear it, I loved her white evening gown. It was an ethereal white, like the wings of an angel. Mama stopped wearing these dresses after Daddy left. Mama abruptly shut her drawer as she returned from the bathroom.

“Get ready for work, Louise,” she said.

I went to the bathroom, washing my face, hair, and hands, and I started to dress. As I looked in the mirror, I thought I could see a resemblance to Renée Adorée as Melisande in The Big Parade. I started posing in the mirror, but I was interrupted by Mama, who knocked once before she opened the unlocked bathroom door.

“What are you doing?” Mama asked.

“I’m getting ready, Mama.”

“No, you aren’t,” Mama said. “You were posing in the mirror.”

Before I was able to respond, Mama continued, “Aren’t you ashamed? A seventeen year old girl with these childlike fantasies about becoming an actress. Do you think the girls in pictures come from laundries in Kansas? No, Louise, they don’t. They come from better places than this. Stop your play–acting. You’re nothing, and you’ll always be nothing. Finish in the bathroom, and join your brother and I downstairs.”

I flinched as Mama slammed the door. Tears started streaming down my face. She’s right, I thought. I’m nothing. Yet there was a spark of hope left within me. I can become something. I just need to leave this place. If I’m ever going to become an actress, I need to go to Hollywood. Finishing in the bathroom, I joined Mama and Dee downstairs, where, unbeknownst to them, I worked my last day in the laundry.

After we finished our work at 10 P. M., Mama, Dee, and I went upstairs to eat supper and go to bed. Mama allowed me to eat my bowl of stew from the night prior, while she and Dee ate freshly prepared bowls of stew. I sipped the cold broth and ate the soggy vegetables in silence as Mama and Dee talked to each other as if I was not there. We finished supper, and we readied ourselves for bed. Mama and Dee fell asleep, but I lay awake in bed, mustering up the courage to go through with my plan to run away.

Getting out of bed as quietly as I could, I reached under my mattress, where I hid my purse. For the past year and a half, I had been saving money, mostly for the moviehouse. I had enough for bus fare to Los Angeles. Returning the money to my purse, I crawled on the floor to the wardrobe, opening Mama’s drawer. I took her white evening gown, and I placed it in a bag that I took from the laundry. I returned to my bedside, where I took off my nightgown, and I dressed for the bus.

As I walked to and opened the door, I looked behind me. Was I making a mistake? I wondered. Looking at Mama and Dee, I felt a wave of regret wash over me. In spite of everything, I still loved them. I can’t let that stop me, I thought. I have to do this. It’s my only chance. I walked out of the apartment, closing the door, and I headed toward the bus depot.

Arriving in Los Angeles, I was fortunate enough to easily find an affordable room to rent. I scoured all of the papers for audition notices, and I went to each and every one. However, the casting directors always had an explanation for why they did not choose me — We’re looking for a blonde. Too young. You don’t have enough experience. With each rejection, I felt I was being punished. Why? It had to be because I abandoned Mama and Dee. They were right about me. I was an immature, ugly, and, above all, untalented girl from nowhere. I had no right to be an actress. Returning to my room after another failed audition, I remembered rent was due in a few days. I was running low on money, and I began to contemplate going home. The prodigal daughter. I knew exactly what Mama and Dee would say — We told you so.

As I counted what little remained of my money, I decided I would go home. However, I wanted to say goodbye to Hollywood by going to the moviehouse one last time. They were playing The Big Parade, starring John Gilbert and Renée Adorée. When the lights went up at the end of the picture, I was shocked back to reality. It was like a cruel joke. I wanted nothing more than to become an actress, and I could not do it, even in Hollywood.

I was leaving the auditorium when I felt a tug on my arm. I turned around, and I saw a girl, who appeared to be around my age. She gestured for me to follow her back into the auditorium, and we sat down. Her hair was a blonde bob, and her makeup was bold and beautiful.

“I’m Hazel,” she said. “What’s your name, honey?”

“Louise,” I answered.

“Well, Louise, I have to ask you something. . . .” Hazel trailed off as she introduced the man that walked up behind her. “This is Charlie. My boyfriend. We saw you enter the auditorium, and we made a bet with each other. Now, answer, honestly. Are you in pictures?”

I felt myself blush as Hazel giggled.

“Are you?” Charlie asked.

“No,” I answered. “I’m not in pictures.”

“Oh!” Charlie exclaimed. “You owe me a drink, Hazel.”

“I’ll get you an ice cream soda,” Hazel retorted. Returning her attention to me, Hazel said, “Remember I said we made a bet? I bet him that you were in pictures. He said if you were in pictures, you wouldn’t come to a moviehouse like this. . . . Well, I guess I was wrong. There’s a first time for everything.”

Shaking my head, I repeated, softly, “I’m not in pictures.”

“You’d be perfect,” Charlie interjected. “If I may offer my opinion.”

“Thank you. . . .” I trailed off as Charlie interrupted me.

“Do you want to be in pictures?”

“Who doesn’t?” Hazel interjected.

“Let her answer, Hazel.”

“No,” I said. “She’s right. Who wouldn’t want to be in pictures?”

“I have a friend,” Charlie said. Reaching into his pocket for a business card, he handed it to me. “Jack Morgan. Tell him I sent you. He’ll get you into pictures.”

As I looked at the business card with trembling hands, I said, “What?”

“Call Jack tomorrow morning,” Hazel said. “Tell him we sent you. He’ll get you into pictures. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I stammered. “Yes, I think I do.”

Hugging me, Hazel exclaimed, “Oh, honey, this will be your big break. Congratulations!”

Walking back to my room in a heavenly daze, I fell back on the bed as Hazel’s words echoed in my mind – “This will be your big break!” I sat up, and I walked out to the lobby of the boarding house to use their telephone. I called the number on the business card, and a man answered.

“Hello?”

“Hello,” I stuttered. “Is this Jack Morgan?”

“Yes,” Jack said. “Who’s calling?”

“My name’s Louise,” I answered. “Your friends Charlie and Hazel told me to call you.”

“Why?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I exclaimed. “They said you could get me into pictures.”

“I see,” he said. “Can you come to my studio tomorrow morning?”

Was I dreaming again?

“Yes, Mr. Morgan,” I answered. “I’ll be there. What’s your address?”

“Call me ‘Jack,’” he said. He gave me his address, and concluded, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Yes,” I replied. “Thank you. Goodbye.”

I returned the telephone to its cradle, and I went back to my room. My big break! I set my hair into finger waves, so I would look like a potential actress during my meeting with Jack. Although I was able to drift off to sleep, I tossed and turned all night, because of the butterflies in my otherwise empty stomach.

At 7 A. M., I woke up to get ready for my meeting with Jack. My finger waves came out perfectly, and I made myself up to look as beautiful as possible. Taking a deep breath, I walked out of my room, headed to Jack’s studio, saying goodbye to the girl I was.

When I arrived at the studio, I was confused by its size. It was not much bigger than our apartment in Kansas. Shrugging off the small size of the studio, I knocked on the door, and it was answered by one of the most handsome men I have ever seen out of pictures. He did not look much older than I was. I tried to stammer an introduction, but I was unsuccessful. The man laughed as he introduced himself.

“Hello,” he said. Extending his hand for a handshake, “Jack Morgan.”

“Louise,” I replied. “Louise Parker. I telephoned you about getting into pictures.”

“Yes,” he said. “Please, come in.”

I walked into the studio, which was nicely furnished. As I looked around, Jack asked, “Would you like something to drink?”

“No,” I answered. “I don’t drink.”

“That’s a good girl, but I meant a drink of water,” Jack chuckled. I blushed as he continued, “So, Louise, you want to be in pictures?”

“Yes,” I answered. “More than anything.”

“May I tell you something?”

“Certainly.”

As I sat down on his couch, Jack sat down on a chair opposite me.

“It’s difficult to get into pictures, Louise. I’m not going to lie. You’ve got to be strong and tenacious. If you choose to give up after your first rejection, you would’ve never made it in Hollywood in the first place. Superficially, you have to be young and beautiful, but you need to be tenacious, first and foremost. If you don’t have that, you’ll never be a star. Fame comes at a price, and everyone’s got to pay it before they make it. Everyone has to start somewhere.”

Before I was able to respond, Jack asked, “Are you ready for your screen test?”

“Yes,” I answered, but I trailed off as I looked around the studio. “Where?”

“Come with me.”

Helping me to my feet, Jack led me to the set in the back of the studio. There was a bed with white bed linens, a vanity stand, and a camera positioned in front of the vanity stand. Jack gestured to the chair, and he said, “Please, sit down.”

I did not know what was happening, but I trusted Jack knew what he was doing. I sat on the chair in front of the vanity stand as he prepared his camera.

“Now, Louise, we’ll be filming a screen test,” Jack said. “You’ll act in a short scene, so directors and producers will be able to see how you perform as an actress. It doesn’t mean you’ve got the part, but it shows they’re considering you.”

Jack and I looked at each other as he prepared his camera. He smiled as I blushed.

“I’ve started filming,” Jack said. “Now, please, take off your makeup.”

“What?”

“Take off your makeup,” Jack repeated. “Take it off like you’re getting ready for bed. That’s the scene.”

Although I was confused by the concept of this screen test, I trusted Jack knew more than I did, so I turned toward the mirror, and I started taking off my makeup with a washcloth and cold cream.

“Now, stop, and start to undress.”

What? I was taken aback. Undress?

Jack stopped the camera, and he asked, “Did you hear me?”

“Yes,” I answered. I started to feel a gnawing sensation in the pit of my stomach. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

“You can,” Jack assured. “Everyone has to start somewhere, right?”

“. . . .Right,” I sighed. I started undressing, and Jack filmed. I was down to my panties, and Jack instructed, “Take off your underwear.”

I took off my panties, baring my nude body to the camera.

“Please, Lulu, spin around for me,” Jack directed, and I did as I was told.

“That’ll do it,” Jack said. He turned off the camera, and he continued, “You may get dressed.”

As I was putting my clothes back on, Jack examined the film of the screen test, and he smiled.

“I’ll show this to all of the directors and producers I know. You’ll be a star. Wait and see.”

I smiled, sadly, as Jack walked me out of the studio. He paid me for the screen test, and he repeated his promise to show it to his friends. I gave him the telephone number of my boarding house in case there were any developments. As I walked back to my room, I started to cry. What have I done? Once I entered my room, I laid down, and I could not help but sob into my pillow, crumpling up the dollar bills in my hand.

I was awoken the next morning by a knock at my door. I answered the door, and the owner informed me, “You had a telephone call at the front desk, Ms. Parker.”

“Thank you,” I replied. The owner left, and I closed the door to get dressed. I walked out to the lobby of the boarding house, and I returned the telephone call.

“Hello,” Jack said.

I felt a wave of nausea hit me when I heard his voice.

“Hello,” I stuttered. “You called me?”

Before I was able to say anything else, Jack asked, “Yes. Are you able to come to my studio this afternoon, Lulu?”

What did he want? I was curious, but I had many obvious misgivings. Had he not taken enough already?

“Why?”

“There have been developments,” Jack answered. “With regard to your screen test.”

As I thought about it, Jack continued, “You’ll be elated by the news.”

Against my better judgment, I said, “Yes, I’ll come to your studio.”

“Thank you,” Jack replied. “I’ll see you shortly.”

I returned the telephone to its cradle, and I walked back to my room to retrieve my handbag, which contained my payment for the screen test. I was going to return it to Jack before I boarded a bus to Kansas. I would take back my self–respect. I walked to Jack’s studio, and as I approached the small building, I saw an unfamiliar car parked in front. Who was here? Nevertheless, I knocked on the door, and Jack answered.

“Lulu,” Jack beamed. “Please, come in.”

I walked inside, and I saw an older, mustachioed man, dressed in a suit. He was examining a strip of film from Jack’s camera.

“Mr. Verdon,” Jack said. “She’s here.”

Turning around, Mr. Verdon smiled at me, and I was dumbstruck.

David D. Verdon was a film producer, whose credits included some of the biggest hits in Hollywood. He produced several of my own personal favorites. In addition, he was known as “The Starmaker,” because actors and actresses who acted in his films almost always became overnight sensations. If Hollywood was a kingdom, David D. Verdon would be one of the contenders for the title of King.

“Hello,” Mr. Verdon said. Extending his hand for a handshake, he introduced himself, “I’m David D. Verdon. It’s lovely to meet you.”

“Hello,” I said, timidly, before I shook his hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Verdon. I’m a big fan.”

“Thank you,” Mr. Verdon replied. “Did Jack tell you?”

I looked at Jack, who shook his head, and he answered, “No. Tell her, David.”

“It is my pleasure to inform you that you are in consideration for my newest picture.”

“What?” I asked. “Pardon me, Mr. Verdon, but how do you even know who I am?”

“I saw your screen test.”

The color drained from my face. He saw my screen test? Flustered, I attempted to explain myself before Mr. Verdon chuckled, holding up his hand to silence me.

“There’s no need to explain, Ms. . . .” Mr. Verdon trailed off as I realized I had not introduced myself to him.

“Parker,” I answered. “Louise Parker.”

“We’ll have to do something about that,” Mr. Verdon grimaced. “Regardless, you have the makings of a star. We’ll just need to see a couple of more screen tests from you.”

I was profoundly uncomfortable with the prospect of filming more screen tests, but I said, “Of course, Mr. Verdon.”

After we exchanged pleasantries, Mr. Verdon bade Jack and me farewell, and he left the studio. Immediately, Jack embraced me in a hug, saying, “Congratulations, Lulu! You’ve all but nabbed the part!” After he released me from the hug, he continued, “I’ve scheduled a screen test for tomorrow morning. Are you available?”

Stardom was within my grasp.

In spite of everything I felt and said before I arrived at the studio, I answered, “Yes.”

I arrived at the studio before noon the following day. Jack invited me in, and he led me to a man, who introduced himself as Armando. He looked somewhat older than I was, but he was handsome. Jack referred to him as the “male talent,” my “costar.” The gnawing sensation in the pit of my stomach returned, but I ignored it.

After I met Armando, Jack led me to the vanity stand, where he instructed me to remove my makeup. I did as I was told, and I turned around to see Jack standing next to a naked Armando.

I averted my eyes immediately, and I could feel myself blush. I had never seen a naked man before. Armando laughed heartily as he walked to the bed, and Jack came up to me.

“This is the screen test,” Jack explained. “A romantic scene. Have fun.”

Jack helped me to my feet, and he led me to the bed, where Armando lay naked. I lay on the right side of the bed, facing away from Armando, who came up behind me, unzipping my dress. Jack prepared his camera, and he announced, “Here we go.”

As he slipped my sleeves off my shoulders, Armando took off my dress and undergarments, which Jack directed him to do. He kissed me. My first kiss. His kisses were soft and tender, but I could smell and taste the alcohol and cigarettes on his lips. I did not want to do this, but I thought, This is what Mr. Verdon wants. I could not waste this chance to become an actual actress. After a deep breath, I started to reciprocate Armando’s actions, and I lay there as he took my virginity. How special.

After it was over, Armando said, breathily, “Congratulations, Louise. You were perfect.”

“You were,” Jack added. As I quickly redressed, Jack continued, “This is exactly what Mr. Verdon wants to see.”

“What if he doesn’t like it?” I asked.

“He will, Lulu,” Jack assured. “He knows art from filth. This is art.”

Leading me out of the studio, Jack paid me for the screen test, and he told me, “Your last screen test is tomorrow. Don’t forget. It’ll be big.”

With a wink, Jack closed the door on me.

I was alone.

All alone.

As I was walking back to the boarding house, I saw a couple of people leaving a Catholic church. Dee and I were baptized Catholic, but Mama could never take us to church, because she almost always worked on Sundays. Despite the fact we rarely attended Mass, Mama ensured that Dee and I received our Sacraments, and she taught us our prayers. I walked up the steps of the church, and I looked inside to see a statue of the Blessed Mother. She had a smile of indescribable bliss on her face. Entering the church, I crossed myself with Holy Water, and I entered the confessional.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”

“How long has it been since your last Confession?”

“I’m sorry, Father,” I answered. “I can’t remember.”

“I understand,” Father said. “Tell me what you can remember.”

“I don’t know where to begin.”

“You should begin wherever God takes you first.”

“I’ve sinned against God in so many ways, but I’ll try,” I said. “Firstly, I ran away from home.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to come to Hollywood to be an actress,” I admitted. “It’s stupid.”

Before Father could respond, I continued, “And I abandoned Mama and my brother, Dee.”

“Go on,” Father said.

“I abandoned them like Daddy did. Why? To become an actress. Mama and Dee thought it was stupid to want to become an actress. They were right. I’m nothing. After I was turned away the first time, I should’ve gone home, but I didn’t want to admit I was a failure. Now, Father, I’ve become involved in something bad, and I don’t know if I can get out of it.”

“What is it?”

Evading his question, I continued, “I don’t even know if God Himself could help me. Is that a sin? I’m sorry. You know, Father, I’ve believed since I was a little girl that even if Mama and Dee hated me, God loved me. Does He still love me? I don’t know anymore. I’ve done nothing but sin against Him. I wouldn’t blame Him if He hated me.”

“My daughter,” Father said. “God hates no one. His forgiveness, love, and mercy are everlasting, but it is our choice whether to accept them or not.”

“Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve done bad things, Father, awful, horrible, terrible things, all to become an actress, and I don’t know if I can, or if I even want to, stop now.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s something inside of me, Father. I want to be seen. I want to be heard. I want to be adored. I don’t know much, Father, but if this is my only chance, wouldn’t it be more of a sin to waste what God gave me? I know I’ve got talent. No matter what Mama and Dee said. I might not have as much talent as the girls in pictures, but I’ve got something. So, Father, I can’t stop now. I can’t go home. I can’t go back to Mama. I can’t go back to Dee. I can’t go back to the laundry. The laundry with its filth and sweat and wire hangers. No, I can’t do that, Father. I’ve got to do this.”

Before Father could respond, I abruptly left the confessional, and I walked out of the church. I returned to my room in the boarding house to prepare for my third and final screen test.

I was awoken the next morning by a knock at my door. I answered the door, and the owner informed me that I had received another telephone call.

“Thank you,” I said. The owner left, and I closed the door to get dressed. I walked out to the lobby of the boarding house, and I returned Jack’s telephone call.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Jack,” I replied. “I was told you called me.”

“I had to tell you, Lulu, that your final screen test will be filmed at Mr. Verdon’s private residence,” Jack answered. “It’s classy, so dress the part. I’ll pick you up around 7 P. M.”

“I will,” I said. “Goodbye.”

I returned the telephone to its cradle, and I walked back to my room to prepare for the screen test. I rummaged through my clothes, and I pulled out Mama’s dress. I laid it out on the bed as I did my hair and makeup. I wanted to feel and look like the most beautiful actress of all time. My finger waves came out perfectly, and my makeup complemented the angelic white of Mama’s dress. After I put on the dress, I looked in the mirror, and I saw a star looking back.

As 7 P. M. neared, I knelt by my bedside, and I crossed myself.

“I’m sorry for what I’m about to do.”

There was a knock at my door.

I wiped away a tear as I crossed myself again, and I answered the door. I followed the owner to the lobby of his boarding house, where I met Jack, who led me to his car. He drove us to Mr. Verdon’s residence. When we arrived, I saw Mr. Verdon standing outside of his house. Jack and I walked arm–in–arm to Mr. Verdon, who kissed me on my cheek.

“My dear Louise,” Mr. Verdon said. “It’s lovely to see you again.”

“Thank you,” I beamed. However, I was soon distracted by the sound of voices coming from inside the house. Confused, I asked, “I thought we’d be alone?”

As he and Jack chuckled, Mr. Verdon explained, “They’re your costars this evening.”

I started to feel the familiar gnawing sensation in the pit of my stomach.

A whisper of a voice spoke within me.

Don’t go inside the house.

Jack and Mr. Verdon offered me their arms, and we walked to the front door.

The whisper grew louder.

Don’t go inside the house.

As Mr. Verdon turned the doorknob, the whisper became a scream.

Don’t go inside the house!

The guests’ voices fell silent as we walked into the house. They were dressed in formal evening wear. Jack joined the guests as Mr. Verdon presented me to them.

I felt like a lamb being led to the slaughter.

“This is Ms. Parker,” Mr. Verdon said. “Our newest star.”

The guests, all of whom I recognized from pictures produced by Mr. Verdon, greeted me enthusiastically, shaking my hands, kissing me on the cheeks, and embracing me in hugs.

“Welcome,” Mr. Verdon said. “Shall we get started?”

“Now?” I asked, timidly, as Mr. Verdon and the guests chuckled.

“Yes,” Mr. Verdon answered. “Now.”

A pair of men emerged from the shadows, grabbed my arms from behind, and dragged me to the front room. My screams were stifled by a hand over my mouth. Mr. Verdon followed us, slowly, and I saw an inverted pentagram drawn on the black marble floor in white chalk. I struggled harder, but the men held my arms firm in their grips. I was laid on top of the pentagram, and I was bound by my hands and feet, spread–eagle in the center of the front room. The men who dragged and bound me walked away to join the other guests as Jack and Mr. Verdon walked toward me.

Terrified, I tried in vain to tear free from my restraints.

“My dear Louise. . . .” Mr. Verdon trailed off. Looking around at his guests, he said, “We have to do something about that name. ‘Louise Parker.’ Can you not see the notices? ‘Lousy Porker.’ No. That shall not be. Your name is ‘Alice Astor.’”

“Why are you doing this?”

“‘Why?’ Fame comes at a price. You cannot have anything in this life without giving something in return. You gave me your time. Your self–respect. Your dignity. Now, you must give one more thing. Your soul.”

Tears trickled down my face.

“Are you the Devil?”

“Maybe.”

Mr. Verdon wiped my tears away with his thumb.

“Louise Parker was an unwanted girl from nowhere,” Mr. Verdon continued. “Alice Astor will be the brightest star in Hollywood’s sky.” Standing up, he concluded, “However, it is still your choice. Do you want to return to your life in Kansas, or do you want to stay and live your dreams?”

I could not help but remember everything that led up to this moment. Daddy leaving us, Mama, Dee, and I having to move into that hellhole of a laundry, Mama and Dee’s abuse. I did not want to return to that life. This was my chance to finally leave it behind.

I stopped struggling, and Mr. Verdon smiled.

I nodded my head.

Jack started filming.

A man handed Mr. Verdon, who knelt beside me, a dagger and a small basin. With the dagger, he sliced his wrist, and blood flowed into the basin. He rolled up my skirt and sleeves, dipped his finger into the blood, and he drew symbols on my arms and legs I did not recognize. Ripping open Mama’s dress, Mr. Verdon drew an inverted pentagram on my chest. Lifting the basin to his mouth, he drank from it, and then he tilted it into my mouth. As his blood poured into my mouth, I drank it, but I felt pangs of fear when I thought about what I was doing to my immortal soul.

The ritual ended.

Jack stopped filming.

As I was unbound, Mr. Verdon helped me to my feet, and I stood up, shakily, Mama’s white dress stained with crimson blood. The guests raised their glasses in a toast to me. Will God ever forgive me? I did not know, but what scared me most was I did not seem to care.

What I did know for certain was that I was going to be a star. Alice Astor. The greatest star of all time.

I was going to have the world.

All I had to give was my soul.