Chapter 2
Justine had told her story so many times, it didn’t hurt her anymore. The pain had been plastered over with the good things she had built on its foundations. Pain, and anger most of all, was a powerful motivator. But sitting across from Alexis, across from the person who would portray her when she’d been in such a vulnerable, precarious stage of her life, was a little startling.
When Justine had met with Charlie Cross, the Gimme Shelter scriptwriter, she’d been matter-of-fact, listing the events of her youth as though dictating a shopping list.
When I was sixteen, in a fit of teenage rage, I told my parents I was a lesbian.
Just like that, they kicked me out of their house, because appearances were infinitely more important than how their only child felt.
I stayed at a friend’s house for a while. Then another friend’s, then another’s. Until I ran out of friends.
Until I had nowhere else to go but the streets.
I made my way to Los Angeles.
I was homeless and hungry for too long.
The homeless shelters I turned to were not safe places for anyone, but certainly not for a lesbian teenager or for the fellow homeless queers I encountered.
I was young, furious, and helpless for a while, until I decided to change shit up.
Then I did.
In the end, I was one of the lucky ones.
“Look at me now,” Justine had said to Charlie. “I couldn’t care less about awards, but you have a couple on your mantel, and now you’re writing my story. How about that? How lucky am I?”
“I’m mainly here for the bit where you changed shit up,” Charlie had said. If that had not been the case, Justine would never have agreed to have this movie made. She wasn’t interested in a sob story about how her parents kicked her out. Rochelle knew that and she’d made sure Charlie knew it too.
Alexis fixed her light-blue eyes on Justine. “Can I ask about your parents?”
“Sure.” Justine shrugged. They were but a distant memory to her. Two people who might as well be dead. If they were, she didn’t know and it made no difference to her in any significant way.
“There hasn’t been a reunion?”
Justine shook her head.
“I’m really sorry that happened to you,” Alexis said. “I just want you to know.”
Justine waved off the remark. So many years had passed. Justine had lived so much life and helped so many kids along the way.
“The way I see it now, what happened to me did so because I was meant to do this.” She gave a small smile. “Not this movie, obviously, but founding the Rainbow Shelter. I would never have done that if my parents hadn’t put me out with the trash. I would never have found this strength inside me to turn my misery into something good and necessary. My parents aren’t the only ones whose so-called love is entirely conditional on the fact that their child was exactly who they wanted them to be. I shouldn’t be baffled by it anymore, but every time a kid tells me their story, it still surprises me that the people who are meant to love you the most can be so utterly cruel and selfish.”
Alexis nodded and made a few more notes in her phone.
“What are your parents like?” Justine asked, not to be glib, but because she was genuinely interested.
“My parents?” Alexis seemed taken aback by the question. “They’re, um, very nice and, like, completely regular.”
“Are they?” Justine studied Alexis’s face.
Eyebrows knotted together, she just nodded. “Is it important to you that I tell you about them?”
Clearly Alexis hadn’t come here to talk about herself, a fact Justine respected.
“Yes. I’d like to hear more,” she admitted. With all the horror stories she’d heard about abysmal parenting, sometimes she needed her faith restored that most mothers and fathers were responsible and willing to do their best for their children.
“Sure.” A soft smile melted Alexis’s face. “Mom’s a dentist, and dad’s an engineer. They live in New Hampshire. I’m their only child and we speak every day. They’re very supportive of my career, even though it’s so far removed from the professions they chose. They’ve always been supportive of everything I’ve done.”
“Good.” Justine replied with a smile of her own. “That’s good.” Alexis was twenty-five years old and a completely different generation to Justine. Her lovely-and-ordinary parents were probably the same age as Justine. “It’s obvious they raised a confident daughter.” Although Alexis was straight and Justine knew from decades of experience with queer kids that even parents who seemed very nice-and-ordinary could turn on their child when they came out. Apparently, there was a long and varied list of reasons to start hating your own flesh and blood simply because of who they loved.
Justine made a mental note to inquire about Sienna’s parents’ reaction to her coming out, although they were Hollywood types and Justine knew from Rochelle that, behind the scenes, half of Tinsel Town was run by queers. That was another reason to agree to this movie. Representation and the chance to tell a queer story on a large scale.
Justine’s phone rang. She didn’t have to check the screen to know it was the shelter, because it always was.
“I’m going to have to take this,” she said to Alexis.
“Of course.” She focused back on her phone, perhaps to jot down more details about Justine. She wouldn’t mind getting her hands on those notes later, just to know what a privileged young thing like Alexis made of the likes of her. Then she shrugged off the notion. If Justine cared one iota about what anyone else thought of her, she wouldn’t be able to do this job—her fundraising skills were not based on flattery and smarminess, but on facts and utter necessity.
“Someone’s come in asking for you specifically, Justine,” Darrel, Justine’s right-hand person at the shelter said. “I can set up a video call, if you want.”
“No need.” Justine looked at Alexis. “I’ll be there in ten minutes and I won’t be alone.”
Half an hour ago, Justine had rushed onto the porch where Sienna was having a private and illuminating conversation with Rochelle, stating matter-of-factly that the four of them were going to the Rainbow Shelter for a research field trip. Rochelle didn’t seem to mind and five minutes later, Sienna and Alexis were sitting in the back of a tatty old Subaru that Justine negotiated expertly through LA traffic. The shelter was only a ten-minute drive and as soon as they arrived both Justine and Rochelle were instantly accosted by people who worked there.
“How’s it going with Justine?” Sienna asked Alexis, as she looked around. She didn’t know what they were supposed to do with themselves. If anyone at the shelter had recognized them, they didn’t let on. Or they were too busy to notice or care.
“Good, I think. She’s more forthcoming than I had expected. Very frank and straightforward. You?”
“Rochelle’s a sweetheart.”
Someone walked up to them. “Hi there. My name’s Darrel, they/them. Justine asked me to give you the grand tour.”
They shook hands and exchanged pleasantries and pronouns—both she/her for Alexis and Sienna.
“Justine urged me not to make a big song and dance about it, but I’m your mother’s biggest fan,” Darrel said to Sienna.
“Color me surprised, as most people can’t shut up about my dad,” Sienna quipped. “But it’s a lovely surprise.” Being an actor, Sienna had huge respect for her father’s career, but he was a good-looking white man. Her mother was the first Black female showrunner in all of TV’s history. Sienna’s admiration for her mother knew no bounds, because not only had she accomplished professional success against the odds, she’d also been Sienna and her sister’s primary parent, and a damn good one at that. To hear a stranger gush about her mother for once made for a nice change.
“Of course, I’m also totally into you two,” Darrel continued as they walked them to a door opposite the reception area. “This movie is like a dream for us working at the shelter and I love that you’re both going to be starring in it.” Darrel stopped in front of the closed door. They fixed their gaze on Alexis. “Good luck playing Justine.” Darrel chuckled. “Lord knows I love that woman to absolute bits, but she’s a piece of work.” They followed up with a quick wink, then focused their attention on Sienna. “Rochelle’s like the opposite. You can ask her anything. She’s an open book. I’m not claiming you’ll have an easier time of it because, well, what do I know about acting? But they’re like ice and fire. Together, they create some sort of magic, though.” They tapped their chest. “They both have a permanent place in here as far as I’m concerned. Justine has dedicated her life to making the lives of people like me infinitely better. She’s completely selfless. She doesn’t really want to do this movie. She doesn’t want that kind of intrusion in her life and emphasis on her story, but this too, she’s doing for us. For the kids who come knocking at our door with nothing but the clothes they’re wearing and a few dollars in their pocket.”
Obviously, like Rochelle, Darrel loved to talk. They had the same inviting warmth about them.
“I’d love to take you out for a drink,” Alexis said. “You seem to know Justine well. How long have you been working here?”
“I arrived here when I was fifteen. The shelter helped me with literally everything.” Darrel’s voice cracked the tiniest of bits. “I got my degree in social work, just like Justine, and I’ve been working here ever since. I’ll be thirty next month.”
“Wow.” Alexis’s eyes went wide. “You must be a treasure trove of information on Justine.” Sienna’s co-star seemed to share Justine’s kind of single-mindedness
“I’m so sorry you had to end up here,” Sienna said, acknowledging Darrel’s unimaginable-to-her ordeal.
“It is what it is, and I’m standing here with you two glitzy ladies now.” They shot them an easy smile that probably hid a world of past hurt. “Have I said it’s my honor?” They nodded at the door. “Shall we start the tour?”
Darrel showed Sienna and Alexis the dorm-style bedrooms, the gender-neutral communal bathrooms, and the dining area with large tables.
Sienna’s parents were rich, and she had never had to come out. She’d never had to declare her sexuality to her parents—the way it should be. Even though she knew the Gimme Shelter script by heart, and could give an off-book performance there and then, actually being at the Rainbow Shelter, and seeing it with her own eyes, was a shock to her system. Despite its stark cleanliness, there was something inherently bleak about young people having to live like this.
“How are we getting on?” Rochelle had come out of nowhere.
“It’s eye-opening to be here,” Alexis said.
“Justine will probably be a while,” Rochelle said. “I need to get home. My daughter called, and I’ve unexpectedly got my grandkids tonight. You can either hang out here and wait for Justine, or share an Uber with me back to my house.”
“I can get a car home from here,” Alexis said. “I have a thing tonight that I need to get ready for.” She narrowed her eyes. “It’s not possible to say goodbye to Justine?” There was genuine disappointment in her voice.
“If she’s doing an intake, she’s not going to interrupt that delicate process,” Darrel said. “But I’ll tell her you couldn’t stay. Don’t worry about it. She won’t think you’re rude.”
“I’ll be seeing her tomorrow, anyway,” Alexis said in that direct manner she had. She dug her phone out of her pocket. “Can I ask for your number, Darrel? So we can grab that drink soon?”
While Alexis and Darrel exchanged numbers, Rochelle approached Sienna.
“Are you okay?” She tilted her head.
Sienna nodded.
“Despite the love we put into it, this place is not the Ritz.”
This was not the time for Sienna to be fragile about her own privilege. “If it’s okay with everyone, I’d like to hang around for a bit,” she said, refusing to give in to the impulse to get out of there and retreat into the swanky penthouse her father had bought for her. Something compelled her to stay.