The Price of Fame by Joe Giordano

“Should we call the police?”

Ted Strickland, thick midsection, thinning blond hair, had discovered his daughter, Jessica’s bed unslept in for a second night. He shuffled into the Chelsea apartment living room and questioned his wife, Betty.

Betty’s baggy brown eyes didn’t leave George Stephanopoulos on Good Morning America. She munched a chunk of stale crumb bun with her coffee. “I told you. Jessica’s camped out at the Apple Store on Fifth Avenue. The iPhone 8 went on sale this morning. There’s always a mob, and she didn’t want to be relegated to the waiting list.”

Ted spread his hands. “She slept on the sidewalk for two days, just to buy a lousy phone? We bought her an iPhone 6.”

Betty sighed. Good Morning America broke for a Retinol A, revitalization wrinkle cream commercial. “Ted, you don’t understand young people. If you own the latest devise, friends flock to you.”

Ted shook his head. “It’s a bubble popularity.”

“Being the center of attention is intoxicating. If I hadn’t met you, I would’ve succeeded in my acting career.”

Ted’s eyes rolled. “All roads lead to Rome. Okay, had I not got you pregnant, you would’ve been the next Meryl Streep. That’s your rationale for encouraging Jessica’s forays seeking stardom?”

“Why shouldn’t she have the opportunities denied me?”

“Right. By now, you would’ve won an Emmy, a Golden Globe, and an Oscar. Regardless that all the other ingénues in your circle had their biggest paydays waiting tables at burger joints.”

Betty’s lips pursed. “Jessica has talent.”

“Jessica inherited your lust for the limelight. She tried acting in college, singing afterwards, and now’s she’s pursuing stand-up comedy gigs. She’s nearly thirty. She could’ve spent her time pursuing a real career. What’s she going to do for money when we’re gone? She’s like a sleeve tattoo that looks sharp at twenty, not so much on the crepe-skin and flabby arms of middle age.”

Betty huffed. “You’re so negative.” On TV, Stephanopoulos with his boyish, tousled hair was critiquing the narcissism of the latest Presidential candidates.

Suddenly, Jessica burst into the apartment. “Oh my God. Oh my God.” Her face had a floodlit glow.

Her parents’ heads spun toward her.

Ted said, “What happened?”

Jessica strode into the living room. “I was first in line at the Apple Store to purchase the iPhone 8. Outside, an ABC camera crew waited to interview me.”

Betty brightened. “Oh, how exciting.”

Jessica continued. “They had me open the box. My hands were trembling. The phone slipped onto the sidewalk and shattered into pieces.”

Ted stiffened. “Oh, no.”

Jessica raised a palm. “It’s all good. The entire scene was caught on camera. I’ll be on TV.”

Just then, George Stephanopoulos introduced the next segment of the show. “Today, the Apple iPhone 8 went on sale. A young woman, Jessica Strickland, was first in line to purchase the devise, then tragedy struck.” Stephanopoulos cut to a video of Jessica, big blonde hair blowing in the breeze, emerging from the Apple Store, then stopped by the female reporter encouraging her to show the new phone. The camera recorded Jessica opening the box and dropping the iPhone onto the concrete. Jessica’s face looked horrified. Stephanopoulos cut in. “Imagine the embarrassment. After sleeping outside the store for two days, then breaking the iPhone you’ve purchased on national TV.” Stephanopoulos shrugged into the camera, and the show cut to a “Triple Gel,” push-up bra commercial.

Ted spread his palms. “Jessica, why are you so happy?”

“Oh, Dad. You don’t get it. I’m on TV. Everyone in the country will know my name. I’m famous.”

Betty beamed. “That’s right, honey.”

Ted’s jaw dropped.

Jessica’s iPhone 6 sounded the clarion call of a text message.

“My friend, Lulu, tells me to check out YouTube.” Jessica’s skillful thumbs brought up her Safari browser and located the video recorded by another’s cell phone as she was being interviewed outside the Apple Store by ABC.

Jessica exclaimed. “Oh my God. Oh my God.” Her legs wobbled. She sat on an ottoman.

Ted held his head. “What?”

Jessica’s voice was ecstatic. “Someone caught the entire scene and uploaded it on YouTube. The video has already had a million hits. It’s viral.” Jessica jumped to her feet. “I need to see my friends.” She sped from the apartment.

Ted said, “Wait,” to no avail. Jessica was already out of earshot.

# # #

Joe Giordano was born in Brooklyn. He and his wife, Jane, have lived in Greece, Brazil, Belgium and the Netherlands. They now live in Texas with their shih tzu, Sophia. Joe’s stories have appeared in more than ninety magazines including The Saturday Evening Post, decomP, The Summerset Review, and Shenandoah. His novel, Birds of Passage, An Italian Immigrant Coming of Age Story, was published by Harvard Square Editions October 2015. His second novel, Appointment with ISIL, an Anthony Provati Thriller will be published by HSE in June 2017. Read the first chapters and sign up for his blog at http://joe-giordano.com/

Photo credit: Terri Malone

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