Lauren Conrad - Infamous

When she arrived back at LAX, Madison’s very first phone call had been to her go-to plastic surgeon. It was time for some laser lipo, because those carbs she’d eaten when she was “happy” with Ryan were still hanging around her midsection. Dr. Klein, who had a keen nose for business (and had coincidentally done Madison’s nose), had given her a deal in exchange for her participation in his “I’ll never tell” press release. (“I look great after a visit with Dr. Klein. Where did he operate on me? I’ll never tell!”)

She smiled, thinking about it. She could probably work a similar deal with Dr. Burton the next time she needed a Botox touch-up. (She was definitely looking forward to the day when she was done paying off Luxe for the necklace Charlie stole; it was humiliating to barter for cosmetic procedures.)

“Earth to Madison,” Kate said, waving a hand in front of her face.

Madison turned to her. “What? Were you saying something?”

“I’ve only been asking you the same question for, like, five minutes,” Kate said, looking slightly insulted.

“Ask me again. Sorry, I’m listening.”

Kate took a sip of her tea and then got up to find the sugar. “Are you going to go see Gaby when they let her out? We’re all going to be there, you know. And that means the PopTV crew will be there, too.”

“May I remind you that I quit the show?” Madison asked.

Kate rolled her eyes. “No need. I was there,” she said. “But the day she gets out will be a big deal. And anyway, don’t you miss being on camera? Airtime is kind of like . . . well, air to you.”

Madison hadn’t filmed anything for six weeks now—of course she missed it. Whoever said diamonds were a girl’s best friend hadn’t stopped to consider a camera. “Not really,” she said dismissively.

Then Kate, who was still looking for the sugar, noticed the Gossip magazine that Madison just happened to leave out on the counter. “Hey, is that the issue you’re in?”

Madison nodded, unable to keep a small, satisfied smile from her face. The moment her bruises had vanished, she’d set up a photo op on the beach in Malibu and paired it with an exclusive sit-down with a reporter from Gossip. She’d talked about her “rewarding” community service, and how it made her rethink her priorities. She had skillfully dodged the reporter’s questions about trouble on the set of The Fame Game. Since Trevor hadn’t included her “I quit” outburst on the season finale, no one really knew what was going on with her. With only a couple episodes of season two having aired, the rumors were swirling, and Madison liked it that way. The less she said, the more people wanted to know.

The best part of the article was the end, in which the writer suggested that if Madison Parker were to leave the show, The Fame Game would be a total snoozefest.

“Community service made you ‘reexamine your celebrity lifestyle,’ huh?” Kate asked, looking up from the magazine. “You learned how ‘vitally important’ it is to give back?” She laughed. “You’re amazing, Mad, you really are.”

“I try,” Madison said. “Do you like how I dropped in the verrry subtle Carmen Curtis reference?”

Kate’s eyes scanned down the page. “‘“More young celebrities should perform community service,” Madison says, as she sips her green tea,’” Kate read aloud. “‘“No one should be above the law, whether they steal a car, a diamond necklace, or a designer top.”’” Kate looked up, her eyes wide. “Madison. That’s not exactly subtle.”

Madison shrugged. “Carmen doesn’t read those things anyway, and I doubt you’re going to tell her about it, even if she is your new roomie.”

“True . . . ,” Kate said. Trevor had made her and Carmen move into Madison and Gaby’s apartment; it was all set up for filming, and otherwise it would be sitting vacant. Madison knew that Kate wasn’t entirely happy with this arrangement. She wasn’t sure why Kate and Carmen had such a hard time getting along (though maybe it had something to do with their habit of picking the same guy to be involved with, whether he was a handsome Aussie actor or a tattooed musical intern . . .).

Samson trotted into the room and flopped down at Madison’s feet. She leaned over and gave his head a rub. “You’re my community service, aren’t you, boy? If it weren’t for my selfless heart, I’d have ordered myself a cute teacup Chihuahua like Paris Hilton’s.”

Kate choked on her tea.

Madison shot her a look. “What?”

“Sorry,” Kate said, wiping her mouth and smiling. “‘Selfless’ is maybe not the first word I’d use to describe you.”

“Of course not,” Madison said. “That would be ‘fabulous,’ right?”

“Oh, totally,” Kate agreed. “So, fabulous Madison, are you going to show up for Gaby’s release or what? Because I, personally, would really love to see you there and I’m sure Gaby would too. I guess Sophia’s supposed to be Madison two-point-oh these days, but I gotta say, it’s not exactly working out. I miss filming with you. It’s not nearly as much fun since you left.”

Music to Madison’s ears! “I want to be there for Gaby, but I’m not sure about the timing. . . .” She paused, relishing the moment. “Okay, confidentially? I do plan on coming back. I’m waiting for Trevor to meet my terms.”

Kate’s eyes widened. “Really? Oh my God, that is the best news ever.” She seemed like she might be on the verge of rushing over and giving Madison a hug.

Madison held up a hand. She liked Kate, she honestly did, but she was just never going to be the huggy type. Also, she was still sore. She got up and dumped the remains of her tea into her spider plant. (Extra nutrients, right?)

“Yes,” Madison said, smiling contentedly. “I think things are about to take a turn for the better.”

Despite her words, though, Madison did worry a little that Trevor might hold a grudge because she’d ignored him for so long. But so be it. Could Trevor really blame her? He of all people should know that all was fair in love, war, and reality TV.

Carmen tried the bathroom door—locked—and then knocked loudly on it. Yes, there was another bathroom in the apartment she shared with Kate, but that one didn’t have the tube of her favorite lipstick sitting on the counter.

“Hang on a minute,” called a voice. A male voice.

Carmen sighed. Drew. Again.

A month ago she’d been complaining that she hardly ever saw her childhood best friend, and now it seemed like he was everywhere she turned. At the breakfast table, eating her cereal. On the living room couch, watching a Lakers game. In the bathroom, holding her cosmetics hostage. Like Carmen’s dad sometimes said: Be careful what you wish for.

She flounced back into the dining room where the cameras had been set up. Kate was sitting at the table, eating a bowl of Froot Loops. She went through two or three boxes of it a week; she had the appetite of a twelve-year-old boy. Lucky for her, she seemed to have the metabolism of one, too.

“Cameras roll as soon as I finish this,” Kate said. Trevor’s aversion to filming them eating was well known. “I was starving.”

“No rush. I was kind of hoping to get my lipstick. . . .”

“You look beautiful, as always,” Laurel called.

Carmen laughed as she sat down at her designated seat at the table. “Like I can trust you,” she said. “You just want to get started.”

Laurel shrugged. “What can I say? Time is money.”

In another few moments, Kate was done, and Bret the camera guy had taken his usual place behind his Sony Hi Def, but Drew had still not emerged. Carmen was annoyed she hadn’t been able to get to her lipstick. Now she’d look washed out, which was fine when they were filming early-morning scenes, but less fine when it was 11 a.m. and she was otherwise ready to face the world. Her floral silk button-down practically demanded a coat of NARS’s Funny Face.