posted on 8-Sep-2001 12:11:03 PM by icelebrity

Authors note:wow. what a strange ride its been! thanks to everyone for keeping me going on this fic. I hope you still like it *happy*


Author: icelebrity
Rating: R-NC-17 in some parts
Classification: A/U M/L with others
Summary: Max is an actor and Liz is just a huge fan. Will they ever find each other? or will fame, an unforgettable past, and certain alien factors get in the way?
Credits: Song credit goes to Nsync's "celebrity" Roswell belongs to Jason Katims.

If I wasn't a celebrity
Would you be so nice to me?
Would you still wanna be with me
If I couldn't buy you diamond rings
And all those other expensive things
Would you be so nice to me
If I wasn't a celebrity.

Part 1

"Over here, over here!"


Max Evans shielded his eyes against the flash of cold, hard fame. This premier was turning out to be a lot more than he had bargained for. Mark had told him he should go. Rising starts couldn't be too picky on what scraps they got to take. And Max Evans wasn't one for scraps. He was a center stager, a front liner, a main attraction. At least that's what Penny kept telling him. If he was so important, he should at least have a girl with him; his girl. But Mark would never approve of Penny, never.

"Max! Max over here! I'm Christine Berry from E! Network. Can we have a few words with you?" Assuming he would corporate, she signaled her cameraman to start the live shoot. "Hi, I'm Christine Berry, coming from you live from the red carpet as E! continues its live coverage. So tell me, Max, how does it feel to be here tonight? How do YOU feel? I bet you never get that question a lot. A HAHA! HAHA! Man I crack myself up!" Christine carried on.

I can't believe I'm doing this. What am I supposed to say to this Christine person? I haven't slept in two days, this Tux itches my balls, and this red carpet is the color of Penny's red cherry lipstick? God how he loved the way that tasted. No, Mark really wouldn't like THAT.

The hell with that reporter, I'm going inside. And if one more person flashes one of their little cameras in my face I swear to god I'll....

"MR. EVANS!" Christine proceeded to shout as she ran down the barricade to catch up with him. "Wait Sir! Just a minute! PLEASE!" she called out as Max lunged forward out of site. Once again catching up, Christine unflustered herself. Lights Camera Action.

Man these people sure are persistent.

"What is your comment on your alleged affairs with Nicole Kidman and that you are the reason for their ended marriage?" These reporters had an air about them. Like someone they're better than you. That they know more about YOU then you know about you. Gee that is confusing. These rumors get more and more inflated as the days go on. What 3 hours at the gym a day will do for your career.

Just walk away. What he wouldn't do for Mark to be here and giving him the escape of "no comment."

Catching up with him and almost tripping on her mic cord, Christine persisted even more. "So that means it's true? You have nothing to say? To dispute it? Come on Max, don't give us the silent big man treatment."

Oh Mark really isn't going to like this. "Fuck off you little..." Max steamed, letting Christine know just what he thought of her, to over 1 million houses worldwide.

"Turn off that garbage, Liz."

"Gladly," Liz Parker responded to her friend as she hit the remote in just the right spot to turn it off instantly.

"Mommy! da TV went bye bye."

"Yes it did honey, Mommy turned it off. The bad man was on it. And you know Mommy doesn't like the bad man remember?" Liz scooped down to pick Julia and bounced her up and down.

"Hehe!" Julia giggled and gurgled, eager and excited at her mother's attention.

"There you go, baby. I love you, always remember that."

As soon as Liz sat down on the couch, Julia protested so she got up again and Julia asked, "Mommy, why don you lik dat bad man? He nice."

Liz stared down intently into her daughter's eyes, almost getting lost in her love. She loved her with all her heart and soul, she was her life, but sometimes it frightened her just how much she looked like him. She has his amazing smile, his hair, his gorgeous skin tone. And those eyes. God those big brown eyes that just drew her in like a fish to bate. He had had her, hook, line and sinker.

"Juju," she said using her pet name for Julia, "when you're older baby I'll tell you all about him." She got up and repeated softly, obviously in pain from the touchy subject "all about He and I."

Violins harmonized, symbols crashed, and the symphony came together, completing the fading out music.

"The 78th annual academy awards are brought to you by the following sponsors," the women announcer repeated back from her cue card.

"God damnit Mark, you told me I wasn't going have to present with anybody!" Max barked into his cell, rounding the corner backstage.

"Pepsi, the joy of Cola. Something that... OW! Fuck a friggin duck!" the announcer exclaimed as Max ran into her, stepping on her foot, brusing it to the bone, and making a huge gash in it in the process.

"Cut, CUT it!" the announcer whispered as she made slitting motions by her throat. "Get me off the fucking air," she said exasperated.

"Oh MY god this is a total disaster," the cue card holder said, just before passing out on the floor at the sight of the blood.

Jesum, people these days will just fall on their knees for you at the drop of a hat these days, Max thought inwardly at the falling cue card holder.

"Listen, Mark. I don't really know if this is good for me or not. You told me I'm only here to look pretty and smile at the crowd. So I'll do my little dance, tip my hat, and sit back peacefully for Tom Hanks, or Tom Cruise to steal MY award. Yes I know they might not win. But you yourself said Hanks was excellent in that movie with whats her name about that theme park. What was it called again? Oh 'Screaming Passion?' And what is that? All those Tom's. Like some exclusive club I'm not in on? I'm already under enough pressure as it is with this award," he raised his voice slightly for emphasis. "I need to be prepared to loose, I need to get my fucking inner wind back, like that stupid shrink, Valenti keeps barking about. I'm NOT paying this flake 1000 dollars a session to ignore his advice, Mark, I'm just not. I'm not made of money you know. YES I know that! How many times do I have to tell you! Get me out of presenting or your fired. CONTRACT? I don't care about your contract. In fact, consider it burning into 1000 little pieces as we speak. GOOD BYE!" Max said, ending his conversation.

Damn, I wish I was at home so I could slam the phone down for effect. Oh well, he thought, slamming the phone down on the nearest steal table. There, that did just the trick, he mused, my cell phones bent but feeling much more at peace with his inner wind.

"Mommy momma! Turn da Tv bak on pweaaase? Dat Hoshua Hackson is one hot tamato," Juju mused, she had really gotten into this award show.

Liz wiped the sweat off of her brow. Gosh, Maria's been talking like that in front of her again, what AM I going to do with this child?

"Baby, where'd you learn to talk like that?" Liz cringed as her mother's good china plate crashed against the linoleum floor.

"Antie Marwia, mommy, she says dat everybody's a hottie," Julia cooed as she banged her fork against her plate.

"Sweetie, don't you think ::BANG:: that maybe ::CRASH:: you could ::BONG:: stop that, Juju?" Liz asked sweetly. Liz was such a softly when it came to kids, especially her own. She just had a hard time saying 'no.'

CRASH. There went another good plate.

But sometimes, enough was enough.


"Uh ahuh huh. I sawry mommy, I sowry, pwease don't hate me," Julia cried, breaking down.

"Shhhhhh.... Shhh... Baby it's okay. I could never hate you baby, never never," Liz assured Julia, dropping the pot in her hand and picking up the toddler, rocking her back and forth. "Shhh... baby it's okay! It's okay!"

"Now I neva getta see TV again!" Julia wailed.

"Awwww, Juju baby," Liz tried to soothe her. Being strict was hard. "I promise that..." Liz began as Julia let out another wail in distress.

Ahh what the heck. The kids already spoiled rotten as it is.

"Okay, you win baby, here ya go, watch TV again while mama makes us spaghetti okay?" Liz spoke slowly, setting Juju on the coach and then moving back towards the kitchen.

"Otay, mommy!" she responded, like a kid who had just gotten a huge sugar rush.

Good lord, I hope it doesn't rot her brain....

"I don't want him on! He ruined my sponsor messages! I don't care who he is! He's not going on that stage again! Who am I to say? I'm the announcer for Christ sakes. I won't say his name when he goes on stage to present, I just won't! if you...."

Gosh, some people are just so loud, Max commented, standing in the spot that said 'stage left entrance.' Mark better be right about this, god my inner wind is blowing all the fuck around I.....

"Ow...! Okay fine! Um here to present the award for best Special Effects are Max Evans," she mumbled over his name, "current star of 'Oh Doctor, Watch out for that knife, and Kevin Bacon, ummmm Kevin Bacon!" the voice of a frazzled announcer said over the loud speakers.

What the heck HAS Kevin done in the last 10 years? Max wondered.

"Well tonight we have so very exciting nominees, from...." Max's voice faded out into the background of the Parkers Blaring kitchen.

God, why IS it about that voice that gets me so much? Liz wondered, dropping another pan.

"Baby, can you change the channel for mommy for just a minute? But on Disney for me, sweetie. Momma needs a rest of the awards," Liz called out from the kitchen, over the rising noise level.

Julia was about to argue but decided not to. Mom had already barked at her once today about the 'bad man.'

After watching boring cartoons for about 5 minutes Julia turned the TV back just in time to catch the next award nominees.

"And the nominees for best Male Actor are:...." Alison Hanigan began.

"Tom Hanks, 'Screaming Passion.'" Josh Hartnett started.

A clip of the movie flew by and then Alison picked up the next line off the cue screen, "Max Evans, 'Oh Doctor, Watch Out for That Knife."

Another clip went by on the big screen, this time of a huge knife dropping onto Max's toe, with him crying out in agony. The screaming crowd in the cheep seats roared at Max's face. They love me, he smirked.

"And finally, Tom Cruise, 'Crying in the Dirt," Josh said, raising his eyebrow in an oh so sexy way.

Max tensed in his chair, god, if I don't get this, Mark is so fired, in fact he's fired 5 minutes ago....

"And the winner is....."


Part 2

Author's note: glad you guys enjoyed part 1! I really didnt expect to get that kind of response but thanks so so much! I hope part 2 doesnt disapoint you as I didnt have all the time to painstakingly review and scrutinize this part like I did with part one so forgive me! I would have written more but I've hard a really rough day! Some of you guys were really close but that's all im saying! thanks for all the feedback now enough of me blabbing.


celebrity celebrity, celebrity celebrity

Lately I've been doing a little thinking
bout the things that satisfy you
It's making me wonder bout the things
that you see in me

3 years earlier

“Bye, Cindy!” Liz called, making her way down the stairs to her car. Her two-bit job at the K-Mart didn’t pay her freshman college bills, but it helped her feel like in the future, she wasn’t going to be up to her voluptuous chest in student loans.

Fumbling with her purse, she quickly looked for her keys. God I’m going to be so late, I can’t believe I let Mark talk me in to this! What was I thinking? I don’t have the experience or the credentials. Shit shit shit! She swore, as the entire contents of her purse spilled onto the parking garage cement. She bent over to collect her stuff and grabbed her keys from amidst the wreckage. Aha! Thought you could hide from me, huh? She thought to her rouge keys.

“Nice piece of ass!” an obnoxious, roughly dressed drunk whistled to her butt as she was still picking up the contents of her purse.

“Can it buddy,” Liz warned as she rose up with her purse intact.

“What you gonna do to me little lady? Scratch me with your nonexistent nails? Rarrrr,” he imitated a cat, clawing at the air right next to Liz’s face.

Liz looked down at her nails, they definitely were kinda short, and kinda bitten off, she thought guiltily. Note to self: get manicure next Monday before dinner with Matt and Co.

“No, I’ll do this!” she exclaimed, kicking the guy in the face. Good ‘ol Tie Bo really does the trick, she mused quietly.

“And he’s out for the count!” Liz said in a very announcer-ish voice. “AHHhhh Ahhhh,” she cheered for her imaginary fake crowd while throwing her hands up in her air in victory.

Figuring she better not push her luck, Liz walked away from the guy and towards her black Saturn. It wasn’t the nicest of cars, but it was all she could afford and she was sick of always taking ‘gifts’ from daddy. She needed to be independent, self contained, and strong. After all, wasn’t that what today was all about? Ya that’s right. I am woman, hear me roar you sons of bitches. She just hoped she had what they were looking for. She really needed the money anyways.

She dreamily glanced down at her watch and saw it was already almost 5:30.

“God damnit! I’m going to be late,” she cursed out loud, picking up the pace to reach her car.


“This is Brookland not Topeka, Kansas people lets pick up the pace!” she shouted at the cars in front of her, continually honking her horn. Like that does ANY good, they can’t even fucking hear you. Talking to people in a different car; another bad friggin habit I got from my mother.

Rolling down her window and sticking her head out she screamed, “HURRY UP!”

Ha now that feels better, she comforted herself realizing she actually could say she wasn’t talking to herself.

Feel the burn, feel the burn, feel the burn, she coached herself flying up the 10 flights of stairs. Damn technology. Why does the elevator have to be broken the day I come here to all places. Finally reaching the last step, she charged towards the right by the sign that said Studio A. She found the door marked “open casting,” swung it open with all her might, and flew inside. Feeling the door hit her in the back as she steadied herself to catch her breath. Be calm, be cool, be… oh hell just be you, who are you fooling anyways? Everyone, a part of her answered, everyone.

Toe to heal, toe to heal, toe to …. She consciously repeated to herself. I can’t trip now. Not in these Prada shoes, not in front of all these other potential co-workers.

Woa, and there’s the floor, Liz thought sarcastically as she lifted herself back up, composing herself as much as possible. I always seem to make the most interesting first impressions.

“Hi, um I’m Liz Parker for the 5:30 open auditions,” Liz said in her most professional tone.

“Who?” the lady at the front desk asked. Crooked, yellow teeth, bubble gum pink lipstick and bight yellow permed short hair. Huh, the typical middle aged hooker secretary.

“Liz Parker, for the auditions? I’m trying out for the role of Angela….for the movie….that their having open casting for… here… today…” Liz tried again and again off the woman’s blank stare.

“Look is there someone else that may could help me because I don’t want to be late and you don’t seem to...Wait are you even listening to me?”

“Fill out this form, bring it back to me I’ll give you a number. Then you go stand in that line over there,” she said in a very nasal New Jersey accent, jesturing towards the pilling masses of people waiting their turn for a chance at fame, “and you wait till they call your number. You got that, Tots, or is it too much for you to handle?”

“I ‘got it,’” Liz fumed, taking her pad and paper to go fill out her form.

“Number 38, number 38? Max Evans? Your next,” a mans voice boomed from the corner of the room in the front of the waiting line.

OHHHHH MYYY GOOOOD. Max Evans? As in THE Max Evans? I can’t believe this is happening? I mean he’s this huge star. I have all his episodes on “Days of Our Lives” taped. That man is a genius, he’s brilliant, he’s sexy. God is he sexy. In that scene he did with Rebecca where he started by taking his shirt off, and then trailing tinny kisses all the way down her neck and onto her stomach, never stopping till he reached her… hello!

“I think you dropped this.” Earth to Liz. Literally. Get your mind out of the gutter, girl.

Looking up, she saw…him.

“Oh uh, hi. Yes I did thank you for that I mean for picking up my pen that is I.” Nice Parker, just bore him to death with your babbling, that’ll really get you into his pants.

“It’s not a problem,” he flashed her a killer smile.

God his smile! I love his smile. I love everything about him. His sexy eyes, his gorgeous chest, his obviously well defined um lower area ::cough cough::

Woa there horsey.

Smile… just smile. You can’t go wrong with smiling.

“Mr. Evans?” a voice called off in the distance.

Oh no, don’t take my angel away from me yet, she thought. God how cheesy did that sound?

“Well they’re calling me, so I guess I’ll see you around,” he chimed back towards her direction as he made his way over to the door with long strides.

God that girl was hot, and there was just something about her… so wholesome yet, sexy and exotic at the same time.

“Number 58? Number 58? Liz Parker?”

“Girl, I think that’s you,” someone poked out of her daydream state.

“Right this way, Miss,” the lady ushered as she took Liz into a room in the back where the auditions were being held.

“Ah, Miss Parker, so nice to finally meet you. I’m Mr. Jenningson and this is Ms. Potter. We’ll be judging your performance today getting a feel for your range as an actor alone by yourself and interacting with others so that we can assess if you are truly right for the part,” he gave her a warm comforting smile.

“Oh, yes of course,” Liz nodded, taking the script out of Mr. Jenningsons assistants hand.

“Now turn to page 24, the scene where Angela finds out that Allison killed her brother. Read from line 3 down.”

“But how could she have done that to me? She…” Liz began.

“Cut cut cut!” Ms. Potter interrupted.

“Um, is there a problem Sir?” Liz asked timidly throwing all her other previous experiences at auditions right out the window.

“But of course, Dear. You didn’t wait for me to say action and your not facing the camera at all,” Jenningson reminded.

“Oh… ya right,” Liz admitted embarrassedly.

“Let’s try it again, shall we? From the top. And…ACTION!”

“But how could she have done that to me? She’s my best friend and she killed Barry! Oh god, Barry. His poor body just lying in the sewer, rotting with the rest of the trash,” Liz began very empathetically.

“…And… cut! That’s enough Ms. Parker. Now lets see how you interact with our leading man. Max,” Jenningson called out. “Max I’d like you to meet Ms. Parker. She’s up for the role of Angela.”

“Oh, we’ve met before,” Max responded raising his eyebrow as if in a backwards wink giving the phrase a double meaning.

He wants me.

“Well, Ms. Parker, to be honest we’ve already chosen Max as our leading man, Eric, due to his areas of expertise. Right now, we’re just putting him with all the girls, seeing which ones have the most chemistry, the most heat. Well you get what I’m saying don’t you? Right good,” he continued not waiting for a response. “Lets try page 48 the second line from the top,” he instructed.

Giving them a few seconds to locate the page he then gave the word. “And…action.”

“But Angela, I don’t care if I’m married to Allison. It’s you who I’ve loved since I first met you in third grade. It’s you who makes me wake up at nights in a sweat. Only you,” Max said his line with perfection. Absolute perfection.

God I know, I love you too.

“She’s my best friend, Eric, even if she did kill Barry. I still love her as a sister, and I would never stab my sister in the back,” Liz replied, glancing up form her script and passing around the room.

“She’s good. Look at the way she pauses and looks into his eyes. Now they’ve got chemistry,” Ms. Potter observed quietly from the sidelines leaning in towards Jenningson.

“Ya, but she’s a no name, and it’s not like he’s anything special either,” Jenningson reminded.

“But still…” Potter tried, unsuccessfully.

“Maybe this will convince you otherwise,” Max read the script and then leaning into the appropriate kiss.

Jesus Christ he was a good kisser.


Part 3

I hate the way you like to say
Your man’s a celebrity

rewind play.

Looking down at the script he saw the words in italics: and they kiss. Three small words. So that’s what he did, leaning in, taking her off guard as she had not read that far ahead. It wasn’t slow and it wasn’t fake. This was the real McCoy. Max Evans had learned much more than just how to act in his high school years, that much was apparent to any on looker. Yup, they had chemistry, that much could be said.


Right there, fuzzy lines and all. Right where his lips touch mine and retract for the first time, right when his tongue was just demanding entry. Right where our skin is still connected but feels the initial pull. Right when I felt that first electric shock.

Freeze frame.

Zoom in times ten. Still not close enough, times one hundred. Right in the thick of it. Right between our bodies. Right in the heat. The perfect moment. Now pan out, do a circle shot around is, suspended in this kiss, in this beginning heartbeat, this first breath. All these things were running through my head, all this and more. A jumbled piece of paper. This is how I felt. Not quite in the calm of the storm, not quite in the thunderstorms.

Kinda melodramatic isn’t it?

Contrary to what she thought, there was no Hollywood music. No Mariachi band to suddenly appear and play the most heart-wrenching exotic song to accompany such a kiss.

Everyone wants such things. It’s human nature, so who wouldn’t . . . well, you know who.

This wasn’t just any kiss, though. No. This was a kiss with Max Evans. Potential love of her life. Obsession of years. How am I supposed to feel? she wondered. I always thought about what I’d do if I ever met him. Thoughts about running away, screaming, fainting, and even throwing up had crossed her mind, but never this. She wasn’t prepared for this situation. For kissing him. For being here. For a chance for fame, for love, for the most perfectly delicious imaginable life. Ever.

One thing everyone learns sooner of later. Such a simple concept that we fail to grasp. If it seems too good to be true, it probably is. And it always is.

fast forward.

“CUT CUT CUT! That’s a wrap on Parker-Evans,” Jenningson called out. That girl just isn’t made for showbiz.

And it was over even before it had started.

“Thank you very much for coming out today, Ms. Parker. We’ll be in touch. We have your phone number on your form,” Ms. Potter comforted gently, tying to soften the blow. Everyone knows that’s just a nice way of saying we’ll call you, don’t call us. Poor girl.

“Oh sure,” Liz saved face. Can they hear how crushed I am through my voice? Is my own speech revealing me? Just walk away, save crying for later, for the street gutter. That’s where she felt she belonged.


Somewhere in this other life he would have run after me. Professing his undeniable love for me. Saying even though we had met only minutes before, that he knew from the moment he saw me that I had to be his. That if he didn’t ask me to be his, he’d regret it for the rest of his life. No, that was just too 90210-ish to be real. Liz Parker might have had a cheerful exterior, a young adult bubbling with life, but on the inside she was damaged, bad, creating a scar that never healed.

Well this is real life. And in real life, Max didn’t run after Liz. My oh my.

Resume counter position.

Liz walked down the stairs slowly, head hung low. This had to be the best and worst day in her life all in one. How could that be?

And suddenly her cell phone saved her from her mind games.

"Hello? Oh hey, Maria," she answered the phone. Maria was like her savior, her Jesus, her Buddha. Actually, Maria was just her life long best friend. They understood each other, as opposite their personalities were. Maria was a tad, well she was kooky and Liz was always too grounded, most of the time. Living in fear her whole life.

"No, I don't think I got the part," she responded to her question. "Because I was late, the elevators were broken so I had to run up the stairs, and . . . I don't know I just wasn't feeling into character and the director was really egotistical. Yes I know you deal with that ever day at your work but it doesn't mean you have to wish your bad fortune on me. Yes men are bastards."

Some things are better left unsaid, Liz thought as she made the decision not to tell Maria about today's encounter with him. Maria was a semi fan too. How you can be a semi fan of something Liz wasn't sure but she knew that if she told Maria she would be pressed into telling every excruciating detail numerous times over ice cream. And she didn't really feel like ice cream at the moment.

"No, I haven't called Mark yet. Yes I know I should. . ." Liz answered frustrated as she continued her journey down the stairs. Well, cruising down the mountain is better than climbing up.

"I just think he's going to be disappointed in me, he's been pushing me so hard and I'm one of his 'lesser' clients. I don't even know why he keeps me any more. No, Maria it's not because he wants my sexy bod, would you stop with that already? I'm just this flat as a board, 12 year old looking 18 year old. It's a sad sad world. No I am not being down on myself, oh fine I'll meet you at Spagio's in 10 minutes. Bye." Liz tried, unsuccessfully to get Maria to stop yapping.

"Yes, Maria, I KNOW!" she tried again.

Now I'm pissed. "Maria, you know I love you like a sister and everything but if you don't stop yelling at me through this cell phone and using up my limited minutes, I'm really going to give the people walking down these stairs with me a reason to stare at me." That ought to do it.

And it did.


I can't believe he just shrugged that girl off like that, Max thought as he read the same line with another girl and then proceeded to kiss her too.

It's just not the same.

That's what he had been saying all evening. Liz Parker had put a spell on him. Something magical but mystical. And that was hard to do. Max Evan's wasn't one for staying in the spot light. Funny that he became an actor and threw himself right into the middle of it.

Funny that he just kissed this girl and didn't feel anything, nothing like with her. He imagined her dark olive skin, her silky black hair, her luscious tanned lips.

This girl just wasn't doing anything for him. Big blonde bimbos were normally his type. He could out think them, out act them, and out look them. No reason feel threatened at all. But he could just see that Potter and Jenningson were saying from the side lines that they 'had no chemistry.' What the hell was with them and chemistry anyways? Those two were so damn horney they should just find a quiet corner and fuck like dogs already.

Woa, where the hell did that come from?

Suddenly his thoughts took a drastic turn from dogs and drifted. And for a minute he could have sworn it was her he was kissing, not this dumb ditzy blonde.

Snap the fuck out of it man.

"Very good, very good Ms. Whitman. Thank you so much for stopping by. We really enjoyed your performance and expect a call from us tomorrow!" Jenningson yelled as Isabel proceeded to walk out the door. She was pretty confident with her performance, although in her taste, that guy was pretty stiff.

It's always the blonde voluptuous ones that get the roles, isn't it? Max pondered.

Why couldn't the brunette with the real talent get what she deserved?

Wait a minute. Why the hell was he obsessing over this to begin with. They shared one kiss, that's it. But it was so much more, another part of him countered. Suddenly that annoying voice brought him back to the present.

"Thanks for sticking around all night, Max you've really been a team player today! Congrats on the leading part, buddy," Jenningson joked putting his arm around Max's shoulder, trying to get buddy buddy with Max.

Like that was going to work.

What the hell was wrong with him? This girl had taken over his life in a matter of seconds. And his mother had thought he was gay. HA!. Max was quiet for a second then it came to him. A way for him to see her.

"Hey, um," he started talking to Jenningson, "Could I have the numbers of a couple of the girls that tried out for Angela today? I know that's kind against policy, but I wanted to get to know a few of them better, you know for the purpose of bettering our performance on screen," Max fumbled over his words. God, he's just going to think I want in their pants.

But you do. You want in her pants

"Sure, Max, buddy." Jenningson winked at him, handing him a list of names, phone numbers and addresses for all the girls that they had seen today.

"Well, I'm heading out of here, Max. See ya bright and early tomorrow at 8 right buddy?" he joked again, punching Max in the arm.

"A hA HA, right," Max laughed sarcastically, waiting to scowl after Jenningson left.

"G'night, Max!" Ms. Potter responded as well, following Jenningson out the door.

And their off.

Let's see, Parker, Parker, Parker.., Max searched, running his finger down the list of names.

AhA! He found it.

Reaching into his coat pocket, he nervously took out his tinny, silver, Nokia cell phone and proceeded to walk into the bathroom to make the call.

I need some privacy, he thought. Too many eyes out there.

Damn hand, stop shaking.

Slowly he managed to dial her number. Holding his breath he waited as it started to ring.

And ring . . . and ring . . . and ring . . .

authors note: hope you guys like this part! took me long enough! its dedicated to latahart! hope she enjoys it!

NEW part 4

baby whats the deal?
I thought you wanted me for me

God damnit pick up the fucking phone.

“Hi…” Liz’s voice began.

“Hi, Liz? This is Max from…” Max started, trying to think of how to explain his actions.

“You’ve reached 288-4404 I’m not in right now so leave me a message and I WON'T call you back! Thanks, BEEEEEEEEEP.” Great her machine.

Go for the gold, you can be brave, just leave a message.

“Hi, um hey, Liz? I think this is your number. I just wanted to talk to you about, oh wait this is Max from the audition today. I just wanted to talk to you, maybe get to know you more or um talk about your role or something? You were, um really amazing today I just, just wanted to talk or something. Sorry for the weird message um my cell number is 390 1949. Give me a call if you want, um bye.”

He pressed the end button on the phone and let out a sigh of relief. How weird was that?

God could he be more of an idiot? How many times can a person say um in a one-minute conversation? Wait that wasn't even a conversation. You need two people for that. Stop being so damn technical, Evans, Max scolded himself. I didn’t go to Brown to talk like some dumbstruck high school jock. Oh Jesus, she’s never going to call me back.

Calm down, Evans. Deep breaths. You don’t want to hyperventilate and then pass out in the bathroom with your pants down. Now THAT wouldn’t look good. Mark would have a cow.


The door opened as Liz stepped into Spagio’s; five minutes late.

Going up to the counter before she sat down, Liz ordered a Moca Frappachino and a lemon pound muffin.

Liz handed a five to the waiter, “keep the change,” and then she winked at him causing the young coffee working to drop the change on the floor and then proceed to hit his head on the counter while trying to bend over and pick it up. God it’s nice being a woman. *I feel like a woman* Liz belted out in her head and then winced unconsciously as she heard how off key she was.

I never said I was a singer.

Spotting Maria she went and walked over and saw that she was already half into this month’s Cosmo. It’s so cool that they let you read magazines before you have to buy them here. Like anyone would ever buy it after they’ve read it.

Idiotic, but cool, Liz decided.

“Hey…” Liz said softly to bring Maria out of her intensive reading. Cosmo was one of those magazines for that type of girl... your know, THAT type. The kind that HAD to know about every single new way to do the nasty, what lacy undergarments were in and which were a total turn off. Maria was one of those girls, obsessed with fashion and making a man howl out in mercy at her touch. Liz was definitely not one of those girls, not matter how hard Maria tried to tell her she was, Liz had always been more of a "Times" or a "National Science Journal" type a gal. Or maybe even a "Teen Magazine" or "Rolling Stones," but that was pushing it. These magazines could be trusted. They were safe. She could inadvertently read it and have faith that in the next ten minutes she wasn't going to hop in a Jacuzzi and impale herself on the jets. But with Max Evans.... that MIGHT be a little fun. Just a little. She laughed to herself and then snapped out of her twisted fantasies as Maria noticed that Liz had graced her with her presence and began to blabber, Maria style.

“Hey girl! Sooooo! Tell me all about it! Spill spill! Your first big audition! And have you called Mark yet?” Maria asked again.... Jesus what was her deal with Mark? It's like those two were doing the freaky deaky behind her back. Like you should care? Liz thought. You kissed Max Evans today... like you should care about ANYTHING?

The world didn't spin, oceans didn't overflow, and cheesy music didn't play in the background but man that was one hell of a kiss. One hell of a kiss, she repeated to herself touching her lips, as if she could still taste him, feel him. All that kissing on the soaps had done him well, he wasn't a novice when it came to that area. Not at all.

Hello? Maria's sitting here for your answer, staring up all in your face. Go on, answer her! Stop staring here like a dumb struck teenager on Dawson's Creek, or Maria's going to wake up and smell the romance and saliva, and THEN she's going to tell you to 'spill' and there definitely will be ice cream involved. You don't want that now do you?

Good. Now mouth open. Tongue to the roof of your mouth. Speak, Liz coached herself.

She sighed. Maria could be such a pain sometimes. "No Maria, in the fifteen minutes it took me to get over here after I talked to you on my cell I did not have time to talk to Mark, or think anymore about my audition so would you just shut up and cool it for a minute with all the questions? I've had a weird enough day as it is!" That ought to shut her up for about, ohhhhh five seconds: Max. Ha, I like that word. It's got a..... nice ring to it.

And she set Maria off like a bomb. "Geeeezum! What are you? PMSing today or something? I'm just being the best friend. You know, looking out for you, asking you how your day was, doing the girl talk? Next time maybe I shouldn't bother, it's better then getting my head cut off. You don't have to act all pre-Madonna on me just because you had an audition today. You're not some big star now so..."

She touched her shoulder gently, snapping her out of her 'your not a super babe' rant. "Maria? Maria, look at me. Look, I didn't mean to shut you out or anything, but I had," she paused to think of how to word her next thoughts, "a really really weird day. It's nothing against you or anything. But I just really didn't feel like telling you and the whole entire coffee shop about it. Some things just need to be... private. You know?" she grasped at straws trying to convey to Maria what she was feeling. How she felt the urge to keep this days close encounter to herself. Her own private treasure that she could visit in her mind and not have to share.

"Oh MY god. You had sex! You had sex didn't you! I can tell oh my god it's so clear now," Maria pieced the puzzle together in false realization.

Maria had her good points, but god she could be dense sometime.

Well great. Half, if not all of the coffee shop already heard that one. Might as well go along with this story for now. Yup, Parker got laid. Big time.

You wish, she thought.

"That's right, Maria. You got me," she said loud enough for the entire restaurant to hear her.

God help me.

"I had sex. Now can we leave? I want to get there before we're late!" Liz said in a hurry, trying to make Maria scurry away from the scene of the crime.

Leaving too much time meant leaving too much time for thinking. And too much thinking leads to too many questions. And too many questions definitely leads towards ice-cream.

Liz wasn't really one for the ice-cream, knowing she'd be working it off the next day at the gym. No, Maria was definitely the ice-cream eater. And Liz avoided it like the plague, only using it in such desperate times. Boy friend breakups, audition blues, parental problems; the usual and the... unusual.

Liz glanced behind her, could Maria go any faster? Or did she HAVE to stop and flirt with every guy in the cappuccino line.

SHIT. Is that my car alarm? Oh my god is that my car? Shit someone's stealing my car.

"Someone is stealing my car! Maria! SHIT!" Liz freaked out. It wasn't the nicest of cars but hey, it was all she had.

"COME ON!" Liz yelled, sprinting to the door.

And suddenly in the .25 of the second it took Liz to begin her journey to try and catch the bandit, her life would change; drastically.

Oh come one that sounded so overdramatic, so Hollywood flush-a-fied. What really happened? Liz's ditzy side came out to play and she right into the glass coffee table.

But no, it wasn't a pretty landing, or a light tap, or even a concussion type of collision. This was the bone searing, flesh tearing type. The type that made you cry out in agony for the person just by being an observer.

A pool of read appeared on her white jeans. Liz saw red and she was down for the count. God there was just so much blood.

Oh, and did she mention shattered glass and a huge hole in her leg? No? Well then add that too the damage assessment.

Well, that one's going to leave a mark, she thought as voices could be heard, screaming call 911.

Call 911. Seriously.

Authors note: Okay its 5:17am and I got up super early before school to finish this SO I HOPE everyone loves it. Now this is changed from the ending in part 4. I just wasn't happy with it and I talked to some people and they said it would be okay to change it so I did. But it's a change for the better, so enjoy it. It starts up right before Liz cut herslef on the coffee table at Spagio's

this part is dedicated to wearydreams (sarah) for all her bugging! I love ya to death!

and without further delay (I'll fix the spelling and grammar erors tonite)

part 5
but you got to say what you mean

Liz glanced behind her, could Maria go any faster? Or did she HAVE to stop and flirt with every guy in the cappuccino line.

SHIT. Is that my car alarm? Oh my god is that my car? Shit someone's stealing my car.

"Someone is stealing my car! Maria! SHIT!" Liz freaked out. It wasn't the nicest of cars but hey, it was all she had.

"COME ON!" Liz yelled, sprinting to the door.

She ran with all her might. I'm going to catch that son of a bitch, Liz sneered. No one messes with me and gets away with it.

As she pushed through the cafe door, Liz was greeted by the blinding sound of her car alarm. Running towards her car, Liz wondered what she would do if she actually caught up to the hoodlum. I'd just pull some tight ass tae bo moves on him, she teased.

Ya like THAT was going to work.

Back and forth. Pump your arms. Strive. Catch this motherfucker. Why is it always you? Why are you always the unlucky one? What the HELL did you did to deserve this... this crap? Is this some sort of punishment day?

Fuck, Liz cried out to herself as she fell down due to her broken heal. Why the hell did I wear high-healed shoes? I need to stop pretending to be a tall girl, I'm a short girl. I'm a short fucking girl with no car.

Out of breath and out of luck, Liz came to a halt. A complete and utter stop. A stillness, a calm.

There's no way I'm going to get my car back tonight by running after it like some out of shape buffoon.


Fifteen minutes later, a sweaty Liz walked back into Spagio's, broken and pissed off.

"Did anyone happen to call the police while I was having my little romp with danger outside?" Liz addressed the crowd of the coffee shop while making her way over to Maria.

"Yeah Liz, I called them for you babe. Talked to an officer McHenry. He said he'd send out a squad car with in the next half an hour.

She slouched down next to her on the coach. Closed her eyes, and proceeded to count. Counting was supposed to calm her down, settle her nerves, make her at peace with her inner wind.


God, these stupid anger management classes REALLY didn't help Liz control the urge to get up and smash her fist into the glass table.

Take a deep breath, she coached herself. Maybe that will help you calm down.



Good. Now talk to Maria.

"Maria, look I know we said we were going to go see that new Hartnett movie and then hit seventh street afterwards but, I think I really need to just go home and meditate. After the police come and go would it be so terrible of me if I just shipped myself on home?" she asked quietly, her voice coming out all timid and not Liz-like.

Please say yes; please say yes; PLEASE say yes.

"Sure babe. In fact, why don't you just go ahead home. I'll tell the guy that you were really shaken up and if he needs to ask you any more questions, to call you in the morning. 'Kay?"

Thank God for Maria. Always putting Liz before herself even. Could she do that? Was it even LEGAL to leave from the scene on the crime?

Do you really care? Liz asked herself. And there was her answer.

"Jesum, Maria, you're the best. I think I will do that. Go home and take a long, long bubble bath. What would I do without you?" she exclaimed, reaching over and pulling Maria into a bear hug.

Hey, I really need some sympathy right now.



Liz kicked another rock into the gutter.

Maria had told her to take a cab home or at least the L, but Liz had decided to walk. It was only a mile and she needed some time to clear her head, recover and figure out if she didn't get her car back, how many days it was going to take at the Wal-Mart to buy another crappy one.

But crappy ones are all you can afford if you don't want to mooch off of Mommy and Daddy, she reminded herself.

Ahhh the ever verging heartaches of a Jewish American princess. But she had sworn to herself long ago, that she didn't want their money any more; didn't want to feel like she was trapped in this, this web of theirs. Indebted for life.

No, no. She wanted to break free. She no longer cared to be the fly caught in the spider web.

And with that great metaphor, I reach my apartment.

Liz fumbled with her keys and then she heard it. She heard the sound that no one wants to hear.

"Alright you know the drill, put your hands up and your purse on the ground. And don't try anything funny." She felt something cold and hard at the back of her neck.

GREAT! Just fucking great.

She obeyed him, putting down her Prada purse and hoping for the best. The guy picked it up, and proceeded to hunt through it. Well, I can get almost two hundred off the purse, he thought.

God, WHAT is he doing? Liz wondered as she tried to discreetly stuff her keys in her pocket. Maybe if she could just turn around and...

"Don't even try it."

Well there goes that idea. This guy was smart, too smart.

She felt the knife released from her neck and gasped in relief.

"Now you're going to get on the ground and count to one hundred, don't get up before then or else I'll know.

Liz got on the ground of her door step and proceeded to count.

Heh, great! Counting.

One one thousand
two one thousand
three one thousand.........

fifty one thousand
fifty one one thousand........

ninety nine one thousand
one hundred!

Thank GOD! Liz exclaimed, getting up, brushing herself off, and finally taking out her keys from her pocket and trudging up the three flights of stairs to her apartment.

It just doesn't get any better than this.

Finally, she reached her apartment and proceeded to go inside.

Wow, and that little red light was blinking. The one she always loved. The one that told her if anyone had called her with possibly life changing news. She switched off the pick up after three rings button and then proceeded to hit the new messages button but pulled back.

You can listen to it later, she scolded herself. It's probably just Maria babbling on, and you REALLY don't need any more Maria right now. She fell down on her couch and propped her feet up on her glass coffee table.

No. What you need is a nice, long, hot, bubbly bubble bath. Some nice salts, relaxing Mozart.

She sighed. That was really what she needed.

Turning to her bathroom, she poured a half cup of bath salts in and awww, what the heck, a full cup of soap. I need LOTS of bubbles. She then proceeded to strip off her white jeans and co. GOD that feels good. Popping in her classical mix tape, she pulled her hair back and saw that her bath was done. In fact, almost about to overflow.

She gently lowered herself into the blazing hot water, letter each muscle relish in all the relief it needed. She sighed. She really, really liked bubble baths.

Now I'm going to sit here for an hour, and if anyone disturbs me, there'll be hell to pay.


"No, Mark, I really think I need to just, just stay home and cool it for tonight. Yes I know it's great that I got the part. Sure, I guess I should be celebrating but...I just can't tonight alright? I don't have to tell you! No I don't! Jesum, you're my agent, not my gay lover okay? We don't have to do EVERYTHING together. Oh stop bitching. Yes yes I know you're my friend first, agent second. OKAY! okay. O friggin kay. Yes I'll see you tomorrow at the park at 2. BYE!"

FINALLY. God how much does that boy talk?

Max put the phone down and proceeded to twiddle his thumbs. Why did he want to stay home again?

Oh right so you could call her again.

No no no no NO! She has a machine, you left her a message, and if she wants to call you back and that's a big IF she has you're number. She'll call.

Fine fine fine, he agreed with himself. I'll just sit here and waste the night away. Dum de dum dum dum. He strummed his fingers on the table in an annoying pattern. BORING.

He LUNGED for the phone, punched in her number which he now knew by heart. And it proceeded to ring.



God DAMNIT did someone have to be calling her?

Just let it go. It's probably Maria.

Wait, another voice in her head countered, it could be the studio about your audition. They could be calling to tell you that you were great, wonderful, stunning.

Liz jumped up, not caring that she was naked or wet, and sprinted to her cordless phone by her machine.

And suddenly in the .25 of the second it took Liz to begin her journey to try and catch the phone, her life would change; drastically.

Oh come one that sounded so overdramatic, so Hollywood flush-a-fied. What really happened? Liz's ditzy side came out to play and she right into the glass coffee table.

But no, it wasn't a pretty landing, or a light tap, or even a concussion type of collision. This was the bone searing, flesh tearing type. The type that made you cry out in agony for the person just by being an observer.

A pool of read appeared on her soapy leg. God there was just so much blood.

Oh, and did she mention shattered glass and a huge hole in her leg? No? Well then add that too the damage assessment.

Well, that one's going to leave a mark, she thought.

Got to get the phone.

Need help.

She crawled, no, inched her way over the white carpet towards the phone.


It was like a persistent reminder.

Finally her fingers closed on the cool base, she put it up to her ear, and pressed talk.

"Hello?" her voice came out all shaky and scared like.

"Hey, Liz? This is Max? Max Evans from the auditions today. Sorry to bother you but um..." he began to nervously carry on.

Oh MY God. Max Evans? This? Calling me?

Look girl this is NO time to freak out. You need help.

"Max? Max, I need," she took a deep breath. Stop looking at the blood. "I need help. I," tears threatened to burst over. Damn this human body. Okay try again. "I cut myself when I was running to get the phone from the shower and there's, there's so much blood," she gasped, a single tear sliding down her cheek. "I think I need to go to the emergency room."

"God, Liz?" he said loudly. God stay with me. "Liz listen I'll be right over. Stay put and apply pressure to the wound. I'll be RIGHT there. Don't panic."

"Oh, okay I, I can call Maria, she probably closer and I..." she stared to babble on.

"No, no I live five minutes away, max. I'll be right there don't move, bye."

And a dial tone greeted her left ear. She turned on her side and that single tear was joined by another, and then another.

part 6 is about 13 replies down!

Sometimes life doesn't turn out the way you want it to. Sometimes you get played. But the important part here is that you PLAYED the game. And for that, you should get a fucking medel, we all should -CELEBRITY

Edited by - icelebrity on 09/10/2001 05:15:40

Edited by - icelebrity on 09/10/2001 17:31:16

Edited by - icelebrity on 09/10/2001 18:52:51

Edited by - icelebrity on 09/11/2001 22:56:25

Edited by - icelebrity on 09/18/2001 05:20:33

Edited by - icelebrity on 09/18/2001 05:21:13

Edited by - icelebrity on 09/24/2001 21:55:35

Edited by - icelebrity on 09/28/2001 00:20:17

Edited by - icelebrity on 09/29/2001 17:16:54

[ edited 5 time(s), last at 13-Jun-2002 12:45:39 PM ]
posted on 9-Sep-2001 5:17:06 AM by icelebrity
this part is dedicated to 99thdegree (Ali) for talking to me forever and being super patient! Love ya babe! And now on with....

Part 6 (as always I will fix erors later its to late errr early right now!)

Mean what you say
Cause you keep pushing me away

The tears were flowing openly now. Why should she be ashamed of a little self-pity when she was sitting here staring at a gash about as long as a pencil in her leg?

A little self-pity goes a long way.

And yet it was fucking with her mind. She hadn't done anything Max had told her to. In fact, she was still lying on her side, naked. I better get some friggin' clothes on, or SOMETHING, else Max is going to get one HELL of a peep show.

And my knee goes bleed.

She stared at it hard. Ticking away; ticking my life away. Tick tock tick tock. The clock can be your enemy. I know he said he'd be here in five minutes, she thought to herself as she dragged her knees up to her chest in a fetal position, ignoring the pain in her knee and leg from the open wound being bent and the strawberry red blood that was now dripping down her arm.

Apparently it hadn't really registered with Liz yet that she was sitting on her white carpet naked, for she hadn't made any attempts to hobble and retrieve a robe, some boxers, or SOMETHING. She was just still.... sitting there.

More tears threatened to spill. No, not spill; fall. Poor down unexpectedly. April showers bring may flowers. And that was the LAST thing she needed right now, she assured herself, starting to rock back and forth hysterically. I'm acting like some insano chick out of Girl Inturruped. Keep it together, Parker. Keep it together.

It's not the fact that my leg actually HURTS that much, she thought, analyzing the reason for her bawling, its the fact that I'm alone.

You're all alone here in this apartment but it's okay. It is TOTALLY okay. I can handle this. It's just a little, a little blood.

Are you shitting me? It's not a 'little blood!' No! No way! It's like two gallons of blood. A red tube of overflowing blood. You could squeeze it out of you're leg, box it, and sell it to some near by Buffy the Vampire obsessies. HA! you crack me up, Parker. By the amount she guessed, she had punctured some sort of artery, tendon, or something. But who was she kidding? Even in school she knew nothing about medicine. Didn't care for it. Maria's health preachings kind of had rubbed off on her. She didn't even take Midol for cramps. If anything, she was a science girl. And she wasn't even really that either.

God, why didn't I go out with Maria? Why do I have to live at home alone? Why didn't I just say fuck the phone? Why didn't I slow down around the coffee table? Why do I even OWN a glass coffee table. Why was I the biggest snob in the word to where I HAD to have the glass table? Why can't I see where I'm going in my own house? Why haven't I called the police to tell them about my mugging incident?

Why, why, why, why, WHY?

So many questions, so few answers. Such is the feeling of a person who is depressed. And at the moment, Liz had every right to be.

Two minutes.

That was the longest three minutes in my life. Hands down. Time seems to stretch out. It's against you I swear; one big fucking conspiracy.

My life just changed in .25 seconds. Will it ever be the same?

And you know what I was thinking? Life is like a fucking gumball machine. Don't laugh now, just listen. It's kind of strange, but so true.

You know those gumball machines? The ones with the little track thing that the gumball comes racing down through the twists and curves. The ball has to roll down and around until it gets to the base? You put in your fucking 25 cents in, but you don't know what flavor you're going to get. Don't know what plastic color food dye is in store for you today. Just like my car getting stolen, me getting robbed, and now this. Don't know if the ball will get stuck on its journey to the end, don't know if it'll even be worth it. Yup, life was like gum alright. Just think about it. Long and hard for three long fucking minutes with your leg bleeding on your white, Persian carpet and you'll see how much life is like gum.

Okay, girl. It's really time to just get up and get that damn robe because I am NOT going to let you ruin your chances with Max because he saw you naked.

This was going to be tough. She put one hand behind her back, trying to support her body way enough to get up.

And she fell back down again.

Alright, so that isn't going to work.

Determined, she put her hand on the glass coffee table and persisted more, only to be thrown back down again by her own weakness and the shakiness and insecurity of her own body.

Okay so you're going to have to crawl. And crawl fast, you only have one and a half more minutes.

The car jerked as Max shifted it into high gear.

Got to get there, got to save her, why is she hurt?

All these things and more were running through his head, and it was not helping him dodge the other cars as he flew down the road at 50+ miles per hour. Not helping at all, he commented as he jerked the wheel away to keep from hitting a parked car.

Now that would be great! I can see it now: 'Soap Sensation Runs Into Parked Car On Way To Rescue Mission.' HA!

Now shut up, concentrate, and get out of this damn traffic, a girl is frickin injured, a girl that would could possible, he paused grasping for the words, possibly be 'in like' with.

Damn I hope that man ran into some traffic

She was etching her way now. Past the coffee table, sloooooowly. Past the edge of the couch until she finally came to the bathroom door way.

Just a little further, just a little, she coached her self. Fight the pain, fight the bone searing pain, bone crushing sensation as you drag your belly, and the knowledge that you're leaving a long trail of blood on your white, Persian carpet.

It seemed like this damn robe was teasing her. As if every time she almost reached it, her mind would push it back further in space.

I'll just give up. Who cares if he sees me naked half way into my bathroom with a red trail of blood behind me.

Uh uh. No way. You're going to get that fucking robe in the next thirty seconds and hope to God that he ran into some frickin' traffic.

Almost there, almost. Reaching out her hand, she inched closer to the white robe.

GOTCHA! she celebrated, the white robe falling forgotten from its stand next to her back.

All right, now flip over, slip it on, and pray. Pray that you can tie it. She used her left hand to spread it out flat, then flipped over to her back, and crawled into position as she ran her hands through the armholes, and finally rapped the rough material around her, securing it with the sash.

As if on cue, a beating was heard at the door.

My timing is great. Just great.

"Liz? LIZ?! Can you hear me?"


And some how, in those five and a half minutes, she had lost her voice somewhere in her self pity and 'deep thoughts'.


God he sounded desperate now, panicking at the still small layer of wood that separated them.


And the door was down for the count. It splintered at cracked right off its hinges from Max's force. Oh, Max is so going to have to pay for a new door.

Max's eyes followed the bright red trail of blood, finally reaching Liz; in the bathroom.

"LIZ! LIZ? Can you hear me? LIZ? LIIIIIIIIIIIZ?" he rushed up towards her, as if she were deaf or dead.

She coughed and suddenly found her voice.

"Will you shut up? Someone's going to think that I'm dying in here. It's just a scratch. Just a scratch," she repeated, trying to convince herself more than Max.

"Okay alright I just got, scared." He glanced down at the wound. "You didn't apply pressure? You're just sitting here bleeding!"

"Ya, well after I crawled here to um, get my robe, I didn't have the strength or drive to crawl somewhere else and get a friggin' dish towel to press down excruciatingly hard on my knee and stop the blood, alright?" God this guy didn't get it. Maybe she should have just called Maria.

He met her eyes, no, more like locked onto them as if to communicate silently. As if to say I'm sorry. Like he had anything to do with this hole in her leg?

"It's alright," Liz surprised herself by answering his silent apology out loud.

"It's just that I-" he began is the oh so soulful tone. Kind of like the one he used in that episode 'goodbye' when Erika died.

"Um, don't mean to interrupt you or anything but could we possibly get to the hospital? Soon?" she reminded her of her still bleeding condition.

"Oh, oh yes right," Max exclaimed, embarrassed as his sudden outbreak.

He surveyed her current condition.

"Can you walk?" he asked very seriously in a surprisingly loud voice for the proximity of their bodies.

"I don't think so, I mean I tried before... I, I could try again but I just don't know if my-" God I can be such a blabber mouth sometimes.

"I can carry you." He said that so simply.

"No! Um, Max, I mean I'm too heavy. You'll hurt yourself. I'm sure I can try to walk."

But it would be nice to feel his *well* defined chest against mine. Separated by a thin piece of terry cloth and...

Alright, NOT the time for that.

"Liz, I'm carrying you, no questions asked. Besides, you're tinny. I can bench press 190. Now lift up you're left arm, wrap it around my neck and use it for leverage so I can get a hand behind you're back to pick you up." He was in total leader mode.

God! 190?! That's like a friggin cow. Man, would I love to see him under that shit.

And suddenly, as clique as it sounded, Max picked her off her feet, into his awaiting arms. It was so fairy tale romantic, so Romanesque. Accept for the whole bleeding leg thing and blood now running down Max's arm.

But that was okay!

Because she now knew. She just did. That Max had seeped her of her feet. Like her prince, no wait, knight in shinning armor. And something told her, that thing's were never going to be the same. As if this moment would join the rest of their lives together somehow. And she was ecstatic about that; just ecstatic.

What did you think?

Sometimes life doesn't turn out the way you want it to. Sometimes you get played. But the important part here is that you PLAYED the game. And for that, you should get a fucking medel, we all should.
posted on 10-Sep-2001 10:51:31 PM by icelebrity
I just want to take a minute to morn the people that lost their lives today. I am almost positive that no one in my imediate family was hurt but we know that the roswell community is large... and im sure people were affected. my heart goes out to you and to your loved ones. until later, be safe and be smart. Love you all

Sometimes life doesn't turn out the way you want it to. Sometimes you get played. But the important part here is that you PLAYED the game. And for that, you should get a fucking medel, we all should.
posted on 17-Sep-2001 5:16:05 AM by icelebrity

Author's note: Woaaaaaaaa. it's 5:13 am and im up again to start writing::sigh:: I just seem to write better this early. Today's a Jewish holiday so I'm not going to school so after this, I'm going back to bed ;p. Anyways, I am going to go back and fix my spelling mistakes this time tonite... hope everyone is happy and safe. Enjoy. Question: I've struggled a long time whether or not to make any of the characters aliens in this fic..... what do u think? (ps this part turned out xtra long! woohoo!)

Part 7 (as always I will fix errors later its to late errr early right now!)

Cause I ain't got no time for games
So I say.


But all this being ecstatic was getting her nowhere, for she was still standing, or rather, laying there in his arms. Apparently, Max was being um, effected by this too.

HeHEM. She cleared her throat. I must being getting awfully heavy. "Like I said, onward to the hospital we go?" I'm bleeding here, probably dying. Lets not stop to have a revelation, or a dreamy pause in a movie. You know, one where that cheesy *lala* music comes on and everything goes in slow motion and some how this, along with the fact that Max would now be spinning her around in circles, is supposed to mean that they are falling 'madly in love,' she finished with one of those airy, dainty, southern, and helpless I'm a woman voices.

Were they?

Hey, Parker, save the self-anilization and torture for your long boring night tonight laying in your bed with the pain shooting up your leg, kay? Right now, you need to get this boy's attention.

HeHEM. Jesus stop staring at me like I'm fucking Madonna, Buddha, or Nicole Kidman or something. Because, I'm not.

Maybe in his eyes, she was.

"Alright, fine. You want me to do this the hard way?" God I'm sick of being treated like this! It's so..... Mexican, so foreign, so friggin wrong and un-American.

And now for the gracefully slipping out of his arms and dropping to the floor part. Lucky for her, that seemed to finally get him out of his testosterone induced daze.

"Wait, what?" Guys are *so* dense. Like a really think potato, lazy, and tasty, but too much is just,'s nasty. By that time you have to add butter, and sour creme, and cheese just to make them edible. And this explains your obsession with potatoes and why you can never get a man.

"Leg, bleeding, hospital, hello? Where have you been here?" Why do I sound so bitchy-fied. I'm bleeding, but it's not like I'm bleeding you know, there. Oh God, am I?

Riiiiiiiiiight, like being super nice and un PMS-Y and giggly is going to make him respect you.

No, but it will make him want to fuck you. Correction, make love to you. Soft, sweet, romantic love.

Ooooor, fast, hot, animal sex. *I wanna fuck you like an animal* She really loved Limp Bizket, or however you spelled their names, she never knew.

Eh, either way.

And finally, she had managed to shock the boy into reality. "Oh, yah, right. Where are your keys? Purse?" he asked, turning around frantically, as if to make up for his lost time in his stupor.

Hmm, funny you should ask but my purse is well... gone. Any my keys? They're sitting on the couch right next to my TV guide with Paul Walker on the cover ::sigh::

"OW ow OW!" she exclaimed in pain as Max bumped her legs into the end of the coffee table in his frantic rush. Was he trying to bruise her for life? Cause he was bumping into this shit pretty damn hard.

Ugh, why does Mr. Right have to be such, such a, well, a ditz. HA! Like a blonde, valley girl, bombshell. Great, now Max is a girl. Stop while your ahead, Parker, and clue this boy in before you have to use some of your tae bo on him in self defense.

Max's face read a total sorry and he proceeded to almost turn a shade of tomato red.

"I don't, um own a purse and my keys are on the couch next to my TV guide." There, that was easy.

She didn't need to tell him about the purse incident, she decided.

He bent over to retrieve the keys, with Liz still in his arms, a very bleeding Liz.

"Shit! Don't lean over, I'll drip blood on my Venetian, white couch." Liz covered her mouth with her hands. Did I just say that?

Well THAT was certainly a sure fire way to let him know just how much of a snob you are.

He used to snobs, she reassured herself. After all, remember that this IS Max Evans, Soap Star king! Duh.

Ignoring her, he scooped up the keys, grabbed his own that he had set down on the answering machine table, and raced out the door, accidentally leaving it just ajarred.

And all the while, my blood is going drip, drip, drip: drop. Yup, I'm definitely dying. Those slow kinds of deaths, where first you feel light headed, then dizzy, then puke-ish then--

I wonder what he's thinking? Liz was thinking, heh, as Max was almost leaping down the stairs, now agitating her wound even more with the stress and creating a line of blood on the Parquet, wood floors that seemed to follow them.

Of course it's following you, retard, you ARE the one that's bleeding now. She mentally hit her forehead with her hand. You're such a dummy. The sad thing was, that she believed it. Liz had almost no self confidence; what so ever.

How dramatic.

He's like my superman. Faster than a speeding bullet. Good, change the subject.

Dum de dum dum dum. They finally reached the ground floor, by this time, Max sure was huffing and puffing *just* a tad. Bench press 190 my ass. And what can you do? Like 20? Weak, girl.

Although, she could feel his, um, assets through. And although she was no expert on muscular guys, as Alex her best friend from grade school that she had lost touch with certainly wasn't, she did have her own tuition and it never failed her, never.

Okay okay, so it did. A lot. But that wasn't the point. The point was... um?

The point was that Max was one hot motherfucker, and he rocks my world.

There now, that was easy. Good to get it out.

Back to the situation, she could tell Max was straining. "Are you sure you're okay? I'm sure I could try to walk or-"

The silence between them had been for too long, and, well she was worried about him.

"I'm just peachy, I can carry you, there's not way I'm letting you walk." He wiped the beads of sweat that were forming on his brow line.

God how I'd like to lick those off and work my way down. All the way down.

Why couldn't she keep her mind out of the gutter? It was almost impossible around him. Like his sensual body kept her pheromones on 24/7 alert.

After walking a block on the street to his car that Liz certainly didn't remember doing, they arrived at a silver, shinny, new looking Porsche Boxster.

That's just great, just fucking great. I'm going to get blood all over his fucking seventy thousand-dollar Porsche. I should have known he would have some friggin rich-ass car like this. We should have taken my car.

Uh, what car would that be? she asked herself as she remembered how great of a night tonight actually was.

"No, Max, I can't go in there, I'll ruin your car!"

I had to say that. I've never been in a Boxster before! eeeeeek!

"Liz, you're bleeding, a lot. I don't care about my car, I can clean it. I don't mean to scare you but if we don't get you to a hospital soon you're going to start feeling severe light headedness and possibly black out."

How did he know so much of this medical stuff?

"Well I at least need something to stop the bleeding so I won't drip excessively all over you're car."

Looking around for something, but finding nothing, Max resorted to taking off his Abercrombie t-shirt.

And there was NOTHING underneath.

Oh MY god.

That was all she could think, all that was possible of thinking.

Max Evans was a Greek god, and NO ONE would ever measure up to him again.

No one.

And with that definitive moment in the history of, well of them, Max hopped into the drivers side of the two-seater, turned the keys on the left side, pressed firmly on the clutch, shifted into first gear, and floored the accelerator. They needed to get there fast.

And with the distinctive whine of the Boxster's engine, they were off.

God damnit, why did that police officer give me such a hard time? Now I have to go all the way to Liz's apartment to get her to sign the statement before I can go meet Mark at the Red Room. And I don't want to keep him waiting, and I need to go get my lavender dress from Judy at Soho.

Maria got off the L and made her way to Liz's apartment. She knew the building well. She and Liz had been best friends since, well it seemed like since forever.

Hey, nice car, she thought as a silver sports care screamed past her going *way* to fast.

She walked up the stairs to the ground floor and got a weird look from some guy.

What you want to rumble, punk? HA! That's the way you stay safe in this city.

Finally reaching Liz's apartment, Maria opened the main door, wondering why it wasn't locked.

Oh well, Fred must have forgotten again. And she shrugged it off.

But things started to get *pretty* freaky. Halloween-ish freaky.

It wasn't freaky, she corrected herself, it was just plain fucking scary.

In front of Maria was a line of, well she thought it was blood.

Oh my god OH MY GOD oh MY GOD.And there goes Maria's 'oh my god' defense.

LIZ! A streak of fear ran through her. What if something happened to her? She didn't even say goodbye.

Things got even worse as Maria ran up the stairs, praying that the trail of blood didn't lead to Liz's apartment. But, it did. Liz has been murdered, Liz is hurt, I can't go in!

You have to, what if she's in there?

Not even needing to use her key, Maria pushed the already unlocked door open. The scene in front of her was almost more then she could bare.

A huge pool of blood greeted her about five feet from the door.


A trail of it led to the bathroom where she found a bathtub still full of hot water and tons of bubbles.


"GOD, LIZ?! LIZ?!" she started to get hysterical. I can't loose her she's my best friend and I didn't even get to say goodbye, oh god. And I was complaining about coming over here! What if I never see her again! What if-

What if what if what if, don't talk like that. Maria you've got to focus here.

She spun around in terror, her adrenaline pumping high and the thought that she heard a noise coming from the living room. WHERE IS SHE? The guy could still be in here, waiting for me, what am I going to do?

Don't be silly, he's not in here, now go to the phone, call the police, calm down.

Looking for ANYTHING that could tell you what happened.

She made her way over to the phone, and, noticing that the answering machine was blinking, she pressed the play button. Hey, it could be a ransom message or something. Liz's parents were really rich, Liz would never say how rich, but Maria could always tell that maybe she was afraid of something like this.

"You have one new message, received today at 7:15 pm."

A familiar voice began to play back.

“Hi, um hey, Liz? I think this is your number. I just wanted to talk to you about, oh wait this is Max from the audition today. I just wanted to talk to you, maybe get to know you more or um talk about your role or something? You were, um really amazing today I just, just wanted to talk or something. Sorry for the weird message um my cell number is 390 1949. Give me a call if you want, um bye.”

Who's the new guy? Max? Liz hadn't told her about him! He sounded cute. And super nervous.

Wait? Max? Audition? OH MY GOD was that Max Evans? And Liz didn't tell her? I can't believe her, she knows I'm like one of his biggest semi fans and she DIDN'T tell me? What's wrong with her?! Maria was definitely being, Maria. Freaking out.

She knew you'd react like this. That's why she didn't tell you.

Okay, Maria, focus here. Liz... missing..... blood... police.

She picked up the phone, and slowly, with a shaky hand, dialed 911.

"Hello? Ya, I.. I think my friend may have been kidnapped, there's a lot of blood and," she gasped, "I, I don't know what to do."

What *was* she going to do?

Sometimes life doesn't turn out the way you want it to. Sometimes you get played. But the important part here is that you PLAYED the game. And for that, you should get a fucking medel, we all should. -ICELEBRITY

Edited by - icelebrity on 09/18/2001 05:17:13

Edited by - icelebrity on 09/18/2001 12:57:59

Edited by - icelebrity on 09/18/2001 20:34:08
posted on 23-Sep-2001 9:49:17 PM by icelebrity
woa woa woa! I didn't check on the thread for a while so I didnt see this riot coming. lol sara I was having a bad day when I said that, I'm not gonna drop celebrity. its my baby and it makes me happy that u guys love it that much *happy* im getting up tomorrow (I think) to do my weekly tusday early morning part. so part 8 will be up at around 6:30 am central time..... then im promising part 9 will be up on thursday and part 10 on sunday(maybe saturday) does this make up for my lack of posts? sorry! schools is kind of beating me up as well as volleyball but I know where my priorities are *happy* I'm thinking about starting a new fic, anyone interested?


Sometimes life doesn't turn out the way you want it to. Sometimes you get played. But the important part here is that you PLAYED the game. And for that, you should get a fucking medel, we all should. -ICELEBRITY
posted on 24-Sep-2001 4:54:16 AM by icelebrity
guess what? my alarm didnt go off ::sigh:: this week is just sucking.... so part 8 isnt out this morning, ill get it out asap and obviously before thursday when I promised part 9 *happy*

Sometimes life doesn't turn out the way you want it to. Sometimes you get played. But the important part here is that you PLAYED the game. And for that, you should get a fucking medel, we all should. -ICELEBRITY
posted on 27-Sep-2001 12:17:49 AM by icelebrity
authors note: sorry for the long wait! this part is dedicated to all the people in NYC and their loved ones, may you all find peace.

part 8

So I say
If I wasn't a celebrity
Would you still want to be
with me?


Max shifted into fourth gear as the little silver car streamed past the Walmart. Things had been quiet for the last few minutes, as if a calm after a storm or maybe before one, who knew what was going to come at him next with this girl around. And yet Liz was humming something, something familiar, but he wasn't quite sure what.

Is it my fault I called her and she mangled her leg, or is she lucky that I'm the one who called and made it happen, instead of some telemarketer, so I could come over there and whisk her away to safety?

I guess that was the sixty million dollar question, Max cringed, turning his head back to Liz, what was she humming? It was intoxicating, invigorating; she was a temptress and she was fucking good at it. How could he be this attracted to someone when they were in a compromising situation? He was a gentlemen, shit.

Am I?

We'll soon find out, he thought, and dismissed any stray thoughts for further scrutiny when he got home.

"Okay, Mam, just calm down, please you've got to calm down for your friends sake. You're talking to fast," the 911 operator coached Maria. Did Maria ever NOT talk fast?

Deep breath.




"I think my friend may be injured or hurt, or..." No she wouldn't say the d word, she just wouldn't.

"Alright, Mam, I'm going to need more information than that, start at the beginning, tell me all the facts you can remember. I know it's hard, but we need to do this before I can send the police to you."

That made sense, right?

"Well, I came over to get Liz to sign the police statement from earlier tonight. I walked up to her apartment building and saw some red stuff on the ground. I walked in and a trail of it was leading upstairs. I... I guess it was her blood. I kept hoping it wasn't her, you know? But I got right up to her apartment and it led there. The door was left kind of open so I just pushed on it and there was this pretty big pool of blood on the white carpet by the front door. Then there was more blood that led to the bathroom like, like someone had dragged her in there. Then I went to go call the police but there was a message on her machine. I listened to it, and then dialed 911."

There, wow! You should be proud, Maria. I think you talked to that lady rationally and somewhat calmly for the first time in your life in a dangerous situation. I don't think you've ever done THAT before.

She didn't think she even had ever been in a dangerous situation before. She was one of the lucky New Yorkers, never been mugged in her life.

The voice on the other end brought her back to the present; this lady needed information so she could help Liz. Come on, focus here.

"You said there was a message on the answering machine. Who was it from?" Why would she want to know that?

"It was Max Evans, I didn't know she even knew him till tonight when I listened to it. And me and Liz tell each other EVERYTHING, so I thought that was kind of weird, but maybe she just wanted him all to herself. But the message was kind of weird, like he didn't really know her all that well and he sounded so cute and nervous." FOCUS HERE!

On the other end, the lady rolled her eyes in disgust at Maria's blatant misuse of grammar. Heh, kids these days. "Alright, Mam, don't leave the scene. I'm dispatching three officers to you right now, it shouldn't be more than fifteen minutes, max."

That was it? Now I just wait?

"Alright, oh um, thank you. Bye."

A dial tone greeted her right ear.

Why did that lady want to know all that stuff about the message?

*Sometimes I love ya, sometimes you make me feel blueeeeeeeee* Liz hummed in her head, which she somehow happened to be now humming out loud.

She had lost a lot of blood, that much could be said by looking at her carpet. She knew Max was afraid she was going to pass out. She was close, but right now more delirious than anything. Light headedness made her dizzy, and spots clouded her vision.

*Sometimes I feel good, and times I feel used*

Maybe she should just quit acting and try for a singing career, she just knew she was hitting all these notes she was humming.

She loved Alicia Keys, listened to her all the time when her boyfriend abused her, used her, threw her away when someone better came along and just picked her right back up when that didn't work out, and she let him.

Were they there yet? God she sounded like a two year old who had to pee on a long car ride in a whinny voice 'are we there yet are we there yet?'

It was just kind of getting hard to hold his shirt really tightly over her wound anymore. It didn't really hurt that much, almost as if her body had cut off the nerves to that part of her body to cease the pain. She was just..... in shock. In such a little amount of time she had changed her life, probably for the worse. She could have permanent damage, a huge scar. Even if she got the part, they wouldn't hire her now. If a director had to choose between two people that were almost as good as each other and one of them was injured, she knew which one he'd pick. Being skinny had always helped her get a few roles, but nothing big, nothing like this.

God, why do I have to be such a spaz?

But she needed to stop this little pity fest right now. It was getting her nowhere.

Besides, look on the bright side, Parker. None of this would have happened if it weren't for Max, but then again, you wouldn't be sitting here having Max Evans fuss over you and let you bleed in his sixty thousand dollar car.

How far away was this damn hospital?

Wasn't Max driving kid of fast?

How do you get blood out of white carpet?

But Liz's self questioning was put to a halt when the sound of a police siren pierced through her humming.

"SHIT!" Max swore. "Fuck." He hit the steering wheel, hard, with his fist.

He pulled over to the side of the road, pulled out his wallet from his back pocket, and reached over a delirious Liz to get his registration out of the glove box.

The officer tapped on his window, shit he forgot to roll it down. That was really going to earn him brownie points with this guy.

Max pressed the button by his right arm, rolling down his tinted windows so the officer could see him. He'll recognize me immediately, and apologize profusely for pulling over such a huge star.

Heh, in you dreams.

"Sir, I need to see your license and registration please." He didn't even look up, not even a glance, and this guy didn't look like he watched the soaps anyway. 'Even the biggest stars still abide by the law,' Mark's voice echoed in the back of his head

Shit, we're screwed.

This guy looked like a real hot shot. Police motorcycle helmet on, sunglasses, the works. It seemed like he didn't want you to see his eyes.

"Officer," he paused to look at his badge, "Officer Valenti, I was speeding because this girl cut her leg, it's pretty deep, I need to get her to a hospital."

Please buy this, please.

"Son, this is no time for games, She seems fine, humming and everything," he remarked, glancing over at Liz and not seeing her leg because it was covered by the dash from his angle. "Now do you have any idea how fast you were going?" Giving him no time to answer he continued, "eighty in a thirty-five zone. Woaa, that's going to be one expensive ticket."

"But, Officer she's..." Max tried again, desperately this time.

"Well, I've had people try and get out of tickets, but this is insane. You also ran a red light back there, son."

What was with this son crap, he sure the fuck isn't my father. I hate stupid slang like that.

Max just gave up, handing him his license and registration.

I guess Liz is just going to have to wait.

Oh great, a cop, she thought, and a hard headed one at that.

Liz had been silent up till now, focusing on humming her damn song and on calming her throbbing muscle in her leg, but this was just too much to behr. She was friggin bleeding here, and Max and this guy were just going to make her WAIT? We'll see about that.

Removing the t-shirt from the wound, Liz touched her fingers to it, covering them in the scarlet liquid. She leaned over Max and thrust her fingers towards the cops face, smearing the blood all over his left cheek.

"See that? That's my blood. I'm BLEEDING. And I'm not talking about my period. This guy was telling you the truth I cut my leg on a damn glass table and he was just rushing to get me to the hospital and then YOU pull us over and I feel really faint and in fact, I think I'm going to pass out, so unless you want the fact that some inocent girl died because you were being a hard headed dick and pulled us over because we were in this fucking kick ass car and you're driving a piece of shit and NOW you won't believe my boyfriend here about my damn leg and you fail to even come over here and check on me,"


"you better get your ass back on your motorcycle and escort us to the nearest fucking hospital because I don't think Max here knows where the HELL he's going. Okay? okay."

God, that had to be the biggest run on sentence in the world. Maria was really starting to rub off on her.

"I....I.. I'm sorry Miss, I had no idea it's just that you know, I was just doing my job and." How could Liz reduce a forty year old down to a grumbling pathetic pile of a shell of a man?

"Bleeding car hospital hello?"

I've got to get this guy to shut up.

"Oh, right."

Finally he ran to his motorcycle, raced ahead, and Max followed behind. Maybe with the help of a police escort they'd finally get there.

Shifting into third Max shook his head, what the hell did she just do?

Sometimes life doesn't turn out the way you want it to. Sometimes you get played. But the important part here is that you PLAYED the game. And for that, you should get a fucking medel, we all should. -ICELEBRITY
posted on 18-Oct-2001 10:04:33 PM by icelebrity
since the new board was down I posted it on the old board last night. Id love feedback here too even if u posted on the old board. Sorry for my three week hiatus but I wasn't feeling inspired. And when I feel like shit I write like shit, hense why I didn't write. Hope this part doesnt disapoint.

part 9

"Ow ow OWWWWW! Max! Did you suddenly lapse out of consciousness here? Did we forget the fact that I can't walk in any shape or form? This includes hopping, hobbling, jumping, and any other assisted means of transportation. I need a wheel chair or something I can't do this I just can't, it hurts and I -"

What was with all this 'we' talk?

It had been ten long minutes for Max. Ten very long minutes since sheriff Valenti had pulled them over and Liz and thrown her little tantrum. It had been all down hill form there. Not that he wasn't fully enjoy this little escapade with her, because he was, it was just, the bitchyness, overwhelming bitchyness and he just couldn't take it right now. First he had to carry her, then he got in trouble with the police, and now she was complaining again; AGAIN. Talk talk talk talk talk.

But of course, he knew that all this was in vain. He was head over heals, flying on a white marshmellow in some soda. He was a chocolate chip cookie. A double fudge brownie with chocolate icing in the middle.

Alright, enough with the sweets analogies, bottom line: he was this sweat guy who was even more dangerously sweet on the inside, delicious, and she knew it. He knew that she knew it, and yet he wasn't playing hard to get? What was with this girl?


And yet, as Max silenced her meaningless rambling off at the mouth, he heard her whimper, obviously in pain. He figured she had realized how much she was really saying.

"Look, it's either me carrying you again, which no offense but I don't think I could do again, getting a wheel chair for u and have everyone staring at you saying 'who's the weirdo?' or you could just....... walk! What a great idea."

And she gave him this look.

One of those 'are you shitting me? I'm one fierce bad ass mother fucker and you better turn around and do what you know you should be doing' kind of looks.

Well, not really, but it was a glare. A fierce one.

I swear it was.

Got to get a friggin wheel chair for her. She needs to get inside. She is so, so stubborn. Max's mind began to go into simple thought overload. What he called when random strings of the simplest of thoughts flooded his mind, creating almost a cloud.

"OH, and Max? Can you get me one that has two arm rests because that's kind of -"


And she's down for the count. Mid sentence, Liz's lack of blood caught up with her, bringing her down like a game of Jenga.

"Liz? Liz?" Oh, god, what did I do now? She fainted.


Sprinting over to her, Max landed by her side on the hard asphalt of the hospital parking lot. Was it something I said? Did I make her upset? Is she dead?

God, is she?

Alright, don't panic, you know this from your courses at the Y, take her pulse, make sure she's still breathing, and then go run into the hospital and find someone, anyone; anyone that isn't you.

He had dealt with her all night, granted, she had amazing acting skills, she was beautiful, and her stunning blue sapphire earrings seamed to make her dark brown eyes shine like tiger's eyes. But this was just unhealthy, some unhealthy form of new torture the big guy up there (he glanced up at the sky) had decided to throw at him.

And he liked it.

"And you say when you got here the door was open?" the tall police officer questioned.

"No! For the forty thousandth time, I said it was ajar, AJAR! Jesus fucking Christ is everyone in here mad? Liz could be out there dying in some street corner and your worried if the door was fucking OPEN? A stupid technicality for your damn report? CAN WE FOCUS HERE PEOPLE? Is there someone else I could talk to? Maybe your supervisor? HMM!? Because I think you are all walking around with your dicks flying in the wind, sniffing whoever comes by your way WHEN YOU SHOULD BE TRYING TO HELP ME FIND LIZ. God, she could be in a ditch or a dumpster, or in the trunk of a car... or... or-"

She couldn't even begin to finish her sentence. She hated when she got all emotional like this. All weepy, all choked up. It just wasn't fair she had over active tear glands. That she had to appear weak and all feminine in front of these, these assholes.


"Or she could be in the hospital? Maybe?" a Latino officers offered, timidly.

Great, the one that wants to help me is scared of me, good way to make some headway, DeLuca.

You know what? That's a good idea. Better than just sitting around and letting the 'big men' do it all. I'll show them who knows a thing or two.

"Anyone see a yellow book around here? Anywhere?" she started turning around frantically for a bookshelf, or something.



"- vase."

"Oops. Did I do that?"

Maria new what was on every police officer's mind.

'What is this girl smoking?'

"Liz? Liz? Listen to me, it's going to be fine, you're going to be fine, I just know it I do."

She can't hear you moron.

"Excuse me, Sir? Sir? You can't go back there."

Why do nurses always enforce the stupidest rules 'don't touch that,' 'you can't go there.' blah Blah BLah BLAh BLAH!

What now?

Max slowly approaching the desk, glancing over his right shoulder to see Liz being rolled further and further away on the gurney.

"Why can't I go back there?" Max questioned in a quick, snappy voice. That's not going to get you anywhere.

"Are you related? Is she you're sister, cousin, friend, girlfriend -"

"Wife," Max interrupted quickly, "she's my wife."

Try and stop me now.

"Well, Mr...?" the nurse trailed off,

"Evans, Max Evans and my wife's name is Liz."

"Mr. Evans, you're going to need to stay out in the waiting room and fill out these forms for your wife, Liz was it?" He nodded as his heart sank, she was back there with out him, after all they had been through tonight it was weird to be apart from her. Even if it had only been less than a minute so far.

"Fill out these forms, when you turn them in along with your insurance you can go back and see your wife. Since this is the ER and Liz appears to be stable right, you should get back before the doctor sees her."

Could she talk in any more of a monotone voice? What was this about Liz not being a critical case? Fucking ER. Fucking HMO's. Fucking corporate America.

Fucking fucking fucking.

How was he going to pull off the whole insurance thing?

"Better start on these damn forms," he muttered under the noise in the ER waiting room.

"What was that Mr. Evans?" the nurse called out from behind her glass door.

"Nothing," he shook his head laughing to himself thinking that she was exactly like this 10th grade biology teacher. Always catching his undecipherable mutterings. "Nothing at all."

"How about this one? St. John's, 455 - 913 - 6528."

"Thanks, Tommy," Maria answered, dialing another number for yet another hospital.

This had to be the fiftieth call, at least. Still no luck.

A chorus of held breaths made the tension even worse as Maria asked the same question.

"Hi, did a Liz Parker get admitted to your hospital within the last three hours? Parker. P-A-R-K-E-R. No? Are you sure? Alright, thank you for your time."

"Nope, no luck," she stated the obvious to the gang.

A circle of police officers had formed around Maria during the last half hour, in a quest to find Liz. It was almost like a slumber party gathered around the girl making the prank call. Only with boys, and no one was in their pajama's. Well it wasn't really like a slumber party at all, but that wasn't the point. Why they weren't out trying to file a report, find a dead body in a dumpster here, or a bleeding one in a ditch there she wasn't sure. But Maria wasn't the one for questions right now. At least SOMETHING was getting done. It was keeping her from panicking. Something everyone knew Maria was best at.

"All right, Tommy, give me the next number."

She would not give up. She wouldn't.

Mark was the kind of guy everyone turned to. One of those go to guys. One of those 'hey man, how ya been?' kind of guys. He hadn't always been though. Mark was a slacker in disguise, and it was only a matter of time before Maria found out.

It had taken years, name changes, transfers in and out of offices, but he was finally happy here. In New York. With Agents for Talent inc. Why he became an agent, he had no earthly idea.


But those who don't have talent live to serve those who do. That was his modo. With all these actors, all this talent around him, it was hard to judge a person. Is that how they really are or are they just acting the part of a happy, satisfied client. There were a lot of fake people in this biz, he just didn't want it to rub off on him.

Too late.

He was in it from the beginning, all the lies, the big clients like Max Evans who knew nothing about him; nothing. How comforting. No, more like liberating.

But this whole lying to Maria thing, it just wouldn't fly any more. You aren't supposed to have a conscience in this industry, but for some reason, Mark did. He had no problem lying to Liz, or Tina, or Sophie. But Maria wasn't a client, she was... well he didn't exactly know what she was but she was something more then his client, Liz Parker's, best friend.

Speaking of Liz, he hadn't heard from her today about her audition.

Whipping out his digital voice recorder he recorded a message to himself. "Note to self: Call Liz tomorrow to check on audition."


When did he become so regimented? So refined? He used to work flipping burgers, he used to scribble stuff down on random pieces of paper and hope to god he remembered it the next day. He used to use words and phrases such as 'dude,' and 'kick ass,' to name a few of the more tame expressions. Eat pizza all day and watch the local hockey game on his 24 inch screen.

Mark was definitely a changed man. For better of for worse, now that is the question. But if he was going to come clean, to get rid of all this, crap, these lies, it would have to start with Maria. The slacker within was returning, God help them all. A simple phone call would do.

Something like:

"Hi, Maria. It's Mark, I mean Michael."

Yup, that would do, alright.

What was she going to say?

dum dum dum? what's the verdict?
posted on 1-Nov-2001 11:37:10 PM by icelebrity
im alive! lol I donno ive just been kind of sitting here wondering if I should continue havent talked to u in a while sarah I cant WAIT till the buffy musical maybe ill write tonite
posted on 13-Nov-2001 8:01:05 AM by icelebrity
heres the deal. I was just not gonna finish this..... getting ready to come tell u guys that now but then I read all ur nice replies and I see that u dont want me to stop... so. if u guys really want me to finish I will have a new part out tonite...... then not another part out for 12 days because im going to spain and then I can promise 2 parts a week. I know u must hate me but... hey..... lol um tell me what u gu ys think *happy*
posted on 2-Dec-2001 11:31:39 PM by icelebrity
wow its been so long. I guess I should write huh? I hope u guys are still interested and if not just hollar at me but..... I dont want celebrity to just die! its my baby! but maybe its time to move on to greater things, better fanfics....... hmmmmm what do u think?
posted on 5-Jun-2002 11:15:27 PM by icelebrity
ohhhhhhh man im so so scared to even post here. so much has happened in my life in the last 6 months. a roswell crisis of faith, school, a physco bitch bulimic suicidal friend who ruined her life and almost ruined mine. theres like no way for me to even begin. life is kind of weird that way. life pulls u away from the things u loved and spent like 15,000 hours writing. you think your just chuggin along in this one direction when BAMN! something smacks u flying off course

hey, kinda sounds like roswell

well now, yes, it is the inevitable summer time. that time when school is not here, no ones here, theres just time to.... sit. lots of time to sit. I could write... hmmmm... should I?

posted on 13-Jun-2002 1:06:10 AM by icelebrity
I had part 10 kinda written already. I thought I had already posted it but I guess not. Hope you guys like it. This story is only continuing because you wanted it to! I love you guys *happy*

part 10

"Form one, two, three," he paused and looked on the floor. "And here is my insurance card. Can I go back? NOW?"

With an "eh" she waved him back, as if to dismiss him.

Which room was she in again? Was it 322 or 223 or maybe 323? Should I go back and ask her again....?

Nah, fuck it.

And with that manly instinct, that gut feeling of finding out and getting lost on his own without asking for help - EVER, Max set off down the long, white corridors, which now seemed go own for ever. And over it all was that burning smell, that hospital smell of disinfectant mixed with stinky people who have been in this place for way to long. Thank god Liz wouldn't have to be.

He finally found her in room 321 .


"That's it! I've called every damn hospital she's not there! SHE'S NOT THERE, EDWARDO! Oh my god."

Maria was very pissed. No, correction. She wasn't pissed. She was more like frantic. After a whole hour of phoning random hospitals like a mad women with fifteen policemen huddled around her as if she were stripping while doing the cancan, she couldn't take anymore. This was Maria Alejandra DeLuca's breaking point. She had had it. Liz, her best friend in the world was somewhere dying in a ditch and she was sitting on a footstool in an apartment full of red blood. Life is just funny like that.

Isn't it?

Funny. Hehe haha.

But she wasn't laughing. Nope. Far from it in fact.

There was only one thing to do at a time like this, call Mark.

Well Mark/Michael. Not that she'd know who Michael was either. He had spent so many days in high school just staring at her. Maria was what he liked to call unattainable. Something he couldn't ever reach but sure as hell could try to. Although it's kind of hard to even go up and talk to Maria DELUCA for Christ sakes, let alone ask her if she maybe wanted to "hang sometime."

Uh weak COUGH COUGH weak.

No, it took a whole reinvention for him to transform himself from the wild kid from across the tracks into the guy he was now, who had somehow wiggled his way into her life.

Mark liked to think of himself as some bum from off the street. A stray who had gotten a shinny new collar and thus was born Mark out of Michael. It was hard at first, moving away from his home town, avoiding his girlfriend's frantic calls on his cell, getting his name legally changed, and just basically dealing with altering his whole life, his whole self. He was like a butterfly finally coming out of its cocoon, metamorphosizing.

Woa.... did I just get that deep?

As he began to analyze his interpersonal relationships with his levels of self-awareness, the phone rang.

"Maria, slow down! I can't understand you when you get like this, you know that....okay so Liz is okay? Alrite alrite sorry! Stop yelling about the blood you're gonna make me nauseous. Yes I'll come over. Yes right now. No there's no hockey games on tonight. NO! I'M NOT LYING! I'll be there! STOP YELLING? Who was that that just called me an asshole in Spanish? EDWARDO? Are you sleeping around again? Cause you know you can catch some bad shit from that. WELL HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW HE WAS A POLICE OFFICER?! Yes I'm coming right now. Bye. Hanging up the phone now. No now. NOW! Do you want me to come or not? Bye."

Fuck, now I wont be able to see the Flyers take on the Ducks, why the hell did I pay for espn again?


"Now, she has lost a substantial amount of blood but her condition has stabilized, she's conscience, and I'm releasing her to your care with the requirement that you clean the stitches with this every other day, that she take this pain killer only when needed, and that she get plenty of rest for the next five days. This was a close call, Mr. Evans. If you hadn't of gotten her here when you did, well, I wouldn't like to think of what would have happened. You are a lucky guy, Mr. Evans," he commented as he finished writing his instructions down for Max and handed them to him, proceeding to slap Max on the back in a very friendly, manly manor. Why was this doctor so damn friendly?

"You've got a great lady there. Take care of her."

"Oh I will, trust me, she's not going to get out of my sight again,"

The doctor winked at Max as he turned around and walked towards the ER and proceeded to pinch Max's ass, "Take care, Max."

Did he just pinch my ass?

How did he know my first name?

Your forms, silly. Jesus what a paranoid freak.

Do I give off some kind of gay vibe? I mean I supposedly have a wife for Christ sakes.

"Knock knock," Max spoke softly as he emulated his words and knocked on Liz's hospital room door.

A horse, soft voice greeted him, "come in."

A bright bunch of yellow daisies greeted Liz as Max walked up to her hospital gown. He had to restrain himself from letting his eyes wonder. Why were those hospital gowns so shear and thin?

"Hey, you," Max said with his trademark sly smile, as he went to brush a stray hair from her forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"Just peachy, I feel like I could go run a marathon," she grinned. "I just lost about a ton of blood, how would YOU be feeling?"

"There's that sarcasm. So that doctor says you can go home tonight, BUT I have to keep a constant watch on you. Sounds like the worst job in the world for me. Since I'm so busy and you know... important." He brushed off the egotistical sarcasm and got serious. "How about it?"

Oh god, what if she says no? What if she's had enough of me for a while? What if she'd rather have Maria?

All was relieved when a megawatt smile flashed across her face. "You, take care of me? HA! Sure if you're up to it. But first I really want to go eat something and rent a movie. I'm soooooo hungry. Ice cream would really hit the spot right now. I never let myself eat ice cream."

"Sounds good to me." Not exactly what he had planned for their first date but hey, it could work. Anything to turn this crazy night into something he wouldn't just remember for the nakedness and the blood.

"Could you hand me the clothes that are in the closet? The doctor gave them to me so I wouldn't have to go out in that blood covered robe. I told him to burn that thing. He sure was nice."

"A little too nice," Max commented at he handed her the clothes.

"Umm, could you turn around so I could, you know," she fumbled over her words as she pointed to the clothes in her hands. What did he think she was? A stripper?

"Right sorry, sorry," he apologized as he turned to the wall, his face turning bright red.

Retard, he yelled at himself as he slapped his forehead. She must think I'm some perverted movie star who thinks he can have everyone and everything.

But you are, his egotestical, I mean tistical side argued.

God the girl of your dreams is getting naked as we speak only feet away from you. He stole a glance to his left side.

Oh god.

Oooooooh god.

There she was, her back to him. Two black freckles marking her flawless, golden skin. He was having a hard time drawing his eyes away. Suddenly she turned around quickly, as she pulled the borrowed, gray sweat pants on, her top half bare.

She gasped. "MAX! Turn around! I told you to turn around," she exclaimed exasperated, as she covered her breasts with her hands.

That's it he's seen me half naked he's not going to want to be around me any more! Take care of me for the next five days? HA!

Liz had self-body issues.

"No, Liz. I'm not going to," he replied in a calm voice, taking a small step towards her, his eyes full with desire, overflowing and glowing. They had become piercing pools, and she was having a hard time looking away.

A very hard time.

Now she knew how all those wannabe porn stars on Days of Our Lives felt when they did a scene with him. It seemed as if Max saw nothing else in the world but her. But was it just an act.

She couldn't help asking herself, is this really real? He is an actor. This is what he does, make girls fall in love with him only to crush them the next morning. I read the national enquirer.

And you believe that shit?

"You're not?" she said in a small, shocked voice, taking a step back until she was flat against the wall.

"No, Liz. I want to do this right. You deserve this, especially after tonight."

God his voice was so soothing. It almost made her put her arms down and bare her chest.


He took five more steps until he was standing not more than three inches apart from her. Would some one walk in and see them?

"Shhhhh," he placed his index finger over her chapped lips. She looked up into his eyes, hers shinning with swimming tears, threatening to spill over. Her lips quivered under his touch, as if trying to form some coherent words.

As if that was possible.

A single tear streaked down her cheek. A tear of amazement.

Amazement that the man of her dreams was treating her like the goddess she never thought she was.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you, Liz. I'm not going to hurt you. Let you guard down. For me, Liz. For me."


[ edited 1 time(s), last at 13-Jun-2002 1:23:19 PM ]
posted on 15-Jun-2002 2:46:15 PM by icelebrity
hey guys, I do plan on posting a new part soon but I just had knee surgery so im kinda in pain. I did, however, kinda look at some of my older writing and I decided to edit and bring back an old story of mine which im posting now. hope you guys like it