(Chapter 1 can be found at the end of the first Monday Write)
Leslie Edgerton was the top child actor in 1998. She starred in almost every movie that required a precious, precocious, or pre-teen girl. Her star was on the rise and was dubbed by many to be the greatest actress of the generation. Acting came naturally to her. In front of a camera is where she was the best.
After getting her high school diploma she started to run with the wrong crowd. She became tabloid fodder. She started dabbling in drugs and alcohol and before she even turned 21 she was already in rehab for the second time.
She tried to get back into acting. Each casting call that she went to, every read that she did for producers she swore that she was clean. She pledged that her next project would be the one that would set her on the straight-and-arrow. Unfortunately she could only secure schlock. From TV movies where prehistoric animals took on radioactive anomalies to token appearances on late night TV where she played caricatures of herself; it came to a point where she didn’t care what she was doing as long as it brought in a check.
The spotlight was what she missed. She missed the adoring fans. She missed the praise. She used to be on the cover of magazines and the face of make-ups and hair products. Now she was the face of what not to do when you are young, famous, and have money.
Because of the language that was passed in the Andy Warhol Act in 2002 celebrities were not allowed to be selected. It boiled down to anyone who was a part of a professional sports team, had a SAG card or appeared on any game show were removed from the program. Leslie hardly called herself a celebrity anymore. So in 2015 she prayed that somehow her name would fall through the cracks. She hoped that there was another Leslie Edgerton somewhere in the country and somehow the wires would get crossed so that she would be the one who could use the 15 minutes to revitalize her career.
One morning Leslie woke up early at 1 PM to news stories and internet articles about a guy in Nebraska who had just found out he was going to be receiving his 15 minutes of fame. The only catch being he didn’t want to use his 15 minutes of fame. Leslie grew furious. She knew what to do with fame and fortune. Many would argue she didn’t, but she as usual she was more concerned with herself than others.
She grabbed her phone and called her accountant, her manager, and anyone else that could help her out. People she actually trusted. The house she lived in that had become her prison was bought with the money she won from her parents who tried to keep her from obtaining it until she was 35. Something a responsible parent would do, but they were keeping it from her in a Swiss bank account that she would never be able to access.
She tried for hours to get a hold of anyone who would take her calls. The house arrest ankle bracelet started to tighten as the blood flowed through her feet as she paced around her house. Finally someone answered. It was her agent who couldn’t ignore the calls anymore.
“Yes, Leslie, what is it,” her voice exhaled, already expecting the worst.
“I think I know how I’m going to get back into the spotlight,” she said with a cunningness that resembled the cute kid she played in the movies.
“Yes, it’s in Nebraska. And it’s Clark Thomson.”