Chapter 24. Dakota, the Nepo Baby
Dakota, the Nepo Baby
TEN YEARS EARLIER, THE CHRISTMAS PARTY
“Look at them down there, laughing at everything she says.” Dakota took a long pull of her father’s whiskey. “Scout’s not even funny.”
“She’s pretty, though,” said Emmy with a touch of wistfulness. “She didn’t say anything about us wearing the same dress. I thought she’d be excited. Do you think she’s mad?”
Emmy was lying next to Dakota on her stomach, looking down through the slats at the party below.
They were holed up in Dakota’s favorite hiding spot, a coat closet on the second floor with decorative grates in the wall that revealed a bird’s-eye view of what her mother called the grand ballroom.
Her mother had lofty words for everything in their house: the vestibule, the grounds, the servants.
Their old, sprawling estate had been in her family for generations, which was ironic, since most of Hollywood associated the house with Dakota’s father and his lavish parties.
Whenever Dakota’s mother instructed her to “fetch the servants,” Dakota knew it meant she wanted help administering the drugs she’d come to rely on for a host of maladies, including a mood disorder, anxiety, depression, and more serious things her mother refused to name.
The drugs left her vacant, a state she seemed to prefer to real life.
Like clockwork, her mother had asked for the servants tonight—anytime Dakota’s father had people over, she was in a hurry to escape.
It had been years since they’d even argued about it.
These days, he simply let her live in another world.
Dakota wondered if this closet, where she often came to hide from whatever was happening in the house, was her version of her mother’s drugs.
Or maybe that was just her dad’s whiskey talking.
She’d stolen his favorite bottle out of his office in the hopes that he would notice and pay attention to her, even if it was just to yell.
But he hadn’t said a word all night. So now she was drinking it to punish him.
Emmy twisted her heavily highlighted hair around her finger. “Do you think I should go lighter?”
Dakota rolled her eyes. Through the opening in the wall grates, she could see Scout and Isabel surrounded by a ring of admirers. Everywhere they went, people flocked to them. It was mystifying. “Let me guess: as light as Scout’s?”
Even more mystifying: When it came to Scout, Emmy seemed to alternate between abject worship and seething jealousy.
Dakota had told her friend a thousand times that Scout was a dime-a-dozen actress, not worth any strong emotion, but since the moment she and Isabel had appeared on the scene, crashing their world thanks to Alden’s embarrassing crush on Scout’s younger sister, Georgia, Emmy had been transfixed.
“There has to be some reason she’s booking roles and I’m not,” Emmy reasoned. “Her hair makes her eyes pop. Maybe a lighter blond would do the same to mine. We have basically the same color eyes.”
Inwardly, Dakota groaned. Scout and Isabel had moved to LA right about the time Emmy had graduated high school and set her sights on becoming an actress. Maybe it was just the timing, but Emmy had become convinced Scout was her main competition and the sole reason her career wasn’t taking off.
“If I have to hear one more word about Scout Sage tonight,” Dakota promised, “I’m literally going to scream. You realize there are legitimate celebrities down there you could obsess over? Like, Golden Globe–winning actors from my dad’s shows?”
“And you won’t introduce me to any of them.” Emmy rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. “Bitch.”
“Because it’s stupid to kiss their asses. They’re just people.”
“Alden would introduce me.”
“Yeah, well. Alden’s a little busy drooling right now.
” Dakota stared down through the grates at her brother, still orbiting Georgia.
He’d introduced Georgia straightaway to their dad and his friends, like she was royalty, his ticket to finally earning their father’s respect.
Her dad’s high-and-mighty friends barely acknowledged Dakota existed, yet they fawned over Georgia.
Why was everyone in her life obsessed with the Sage sisters?
She couldn’t make sense of it. They were talentless, no-pedigree girls from disgusting New Jersey—Scout a mean girl on steroids and Georgia a bland basic bitch.
The mystery of it was enough to drive her crazy.
Emmy sighed. “You don’t understand how stressful it is trying to make it on my own. I just need one break, that’s all.”
“I can’t wait to graduate.” Dakota rolled over on her back like Emmy.
“Archer is full of coddled nepo babies.” She hated her high school, especially now that Emmy had graduated.
It was a private all-girls’ school her father insisted she attend just because every other bigwig in the industry sent their daughters there.
Emmy laughed. “Um, news flash: You’re a nepo baby, too.”
“Not like them.” Dakota scowled. She hated when Emmy acted like Dakota’s life was perfect just because her dad was a network president and Emmy’s was a sixth-grade teacher at Archer who’d gotten Emmy in on free tuition.
First of all, it had taken Dakota’s dad years of clawing to ascend to his position, and his naked ambition had ruined their family.
Dakota’s mother thought his striving was beneath them, while Dakota and Alden had never been able to compete with work for their dad’s attention.
Meanwhile, Emmy’s parents were happy, doting.
Dakota would trade in a heartbeat, but did Emmy ever ask?
No. She loved feeling sorry for herself.
Emmy flipped back onto her stomach and looked down at the party. “I heard Reese Griffin discovered Vanessa Riley when she was fifteen. Put her in one of his films, and like that”—Emmy snapped—“she was everywhere. He’s a star-maker. Introduce me.”
Dakota snorted. “I don’t think you want to be friends with Reese.
” Dakota might be invisible to her dad and his friends, but they weren’t invisible to her.
She knew things about them she wasn’t supposed to, like that they called themselves the Pussy Posse, and that when her dad went out, which he did most nights of the week, it wasn’t to networking events or late-night creative meetings like he swore to her mother.
He was with Gabriel and Reese, doing things that made him come home staggering drunk, lipstick all over the shirts he got dry-cleaned, bruises on his arms he’d claim were from “roughhousing with the boys” if she asked.
Emmy’s face darkened. “Are you serious? You’re supposed to be my best friend, and you won’t introduce me to someone who could literally make my career?”
Dakota sat up, the alcohol making the walls spin.
“Are you friends with me just so I can introduce you to famous people?” Growing up, she’d never worried about why Emmy was friends with her—they were two misfits at Archer.
They had no one else; it made sense. But ever since Emmy had graduated, when she started dropping hints about Dakota’s father casting her in shows, the fear had metastasized.
“Because that would make you a really shitty person.”
Emmy rose to her feet too quickly and had to lean against the wall—the whiskey was affecting her worse than Dakota. But it didn’t stop her from hissing, “You’re the shitty person. Who refuses to help their friend?” She groped her way to the closet door. “I’ll introduce my own damn self to Reese.”
“Good luck,” Dakota called after her. “I’m sure A-list producers love it when thirsty gold diggers interrupt their night!”
Obviously, the truth was, Reese would love it; far too much. But if Emmy was going to be such a horrible bitch, she could find out about him the hard way. Dakota was going to bed.
She was lying in the dark, staring at her lofted bedroom ceiling with hot tears in her eyes, when a knock sounded at her door. “Kota?”
Alden. Dakota swung out of bed and threw open the door.
Her brother’s face was red and splotchy. Behind him stood two people she only vaguely recognized: that bitchy man who ran a celebrity gossip website, the one her father called a fucking menace, and a small, lithe woman who’d starred in a string of horror movies Dakota had actually liked.
“What’s wrong?” Dakota threw her arms around Alden’s shoulders. “What happened?”
The blogger could barely contain his smile. Dakota wanted to kill the man for making light of her brother’s pain. “Little guy just got some rough news. He’s a wee bit drunk, so we figured he should probably go to bed.”
The actress tilted her head. She looked like a beautiful bird with her delicate features and short, dark hair. “He said this was his sister’s bedroom. You’ll take care of him?”
“Of course.” Dakota and Alden always took care of each other. “Thank you,” she added, almost an afterthought, right before she closed the door.
Alden fell into her bed face-first. “I told her I loved her,” he groaned. “And she said she thinks of me as a friend. I want to die.”
There was no need to ask who he meant. Dakota took a deep breath and climbed into bed beside him. “Georgia’s stupid for not seeing how great you are.”
He curled into a ball. “She said she has a boyfriend. How is it possible she’s been dating someone and I haven’t noticed? I notice everything about her.” He turned his face to Dakota. “Do you think she’s lying?”
“I have no idea.” Dakota sighed, tugging on the sheets until she could lift them over both of them. They curled up side by side under the covers, the way they used to whenever their parents went on a fighting rampage, before their mom learned how to check out.
“She said it was serious,” Alden mumbled.
“Like I said, Georgia is an idiot. Go to sleep, Alden. Everything will look better in the morning.”
He must’ve listened to her, because soon the only sounds in the dark expanse of her bedroom were Alden’s soft snores and the distant bass thumping through the floorboards, a sign her father’s party had evolved into its darker, more hedonistic form.
All of Hollywood, Dakota had long ago realized, was one long performance of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
Dakota lay next to her brother, unable to sleep as the hours ticked by on her alarm clock.
Nothing about life was fair. It didn’t matter how much you loved someone; your love couldn’t protect them or keep other people from breaking their heart.
It couldn’t even convince other people to treat them kindly.
She had so much love and worry and hope bursting in her chest for her shy, sensitive older brother, but what good had it ever done?
The world had always taken its cue from her parents, treating Alden harshly, and all she’d ever been able to do was be there to pick up the pieces.
Goose bumps suddenly rose on Dakota’s arms, as if her body sensed something was coming the second before it arrived.
From outside her window, a bloodcurdling scream rent the night in two.