Pamela Anderson - Star Struck

For reasons defying logic outside the balance sheet, with no football team, the Lakers became L.A.’s official home team, attracting a veritable who’s who of Hollywood royalty. The courtside seats are always filled with faces of those even more famous than the world champion team they come to watch. As a result, the cameras present are as likely to be focused on the stands as on the court.

And the cameras were at the ready when Sven took Sam to inaugurate his seats. Sven had already earned a spot on everyone’s most-beautiful-people list, so when he showed up at the game with his girlfriend, the photos were an easy sale for the season-tipoff coverage. When Jimi spotted his beloved Lakers on the cover of USA Today and picked it up to get the highlights of the game, he also saw Sven’s beloved Sam.

At first he looked at the guy on Sven’s right, smiled, and thought what a nice-looking couple they made. But as he read and reread the caption, it became clear that Sam was short for Samantha and that Jimi had been played. He kept questioning it as he went over it in his mind. Had he simply been mistaken? Had he gotten the wrong impression?

Feeling hurt, deceived, and betrayed, Jimi blamed the only two people who were only guilty of having amazing onscreen chemistry—Star and Sven. He also leaped to the conclusion that they must really have had something to hide to perpetrate such a massive deception. He jumped into the Ferrari and tore off to the set to have a word with his wife.

Lulled into a false sense of security, no one at Lifeguards reacted to the sound of squealing tires in the parking lot with anything other than mild annoyance. At worst they’d either have to retake the shot without the racket or loop it by having those in the scene rerecord their dialogue by lip-synching to get the noise out of the ruined take.

“Cut,” Brock called irritably, preferring to retake the scene as he had notes anyway. “Okay, when the demolition derby is done up there, let’s try it again. And this time, Sven, as you take her hand, I want you to be more tentative.”

“Tentative,” Sven repeated in a way that Brock knew meant Sven had no idea what the director was talking about.

“Look at her face like you’ve asked her a question,” Brock went on, to avoid making his actor look foolish. “Will she come back to your apartment with you or not? That is unanswered here, and the viewers won’t know what she’s decided until the next scene with the two of you in the sack.”

“I’ll tell you what she’s decided!” Jimi shouted from behind the camera crew, stalking forward awkwardly across the sand. “She’s decided to come with me.”

The crew immediately began acting busy to avoid seeming to watch the action that was unfolding between Star and Jimi.

“Jimi?” Star said. “What’s wrong?”

“I just saw the pictures of Sam in USA Today,” Jimi said, grasping Star’s hand firmly to drag her away from the rest of the cast.

Sven was not only baffled and confused, but since Sam was his girlfriend, he felt oddly responsible.

“Sam’s picture?” Star asked, clueless. “Have you been drinking?” she asked quietly.

“I’m sober,” Jimi hissed.

“I’m missing something here,” Star said quietly, still unsure what they were talking about. “I’m guilty of Sam’s pictures? Baby, I’m worried about you.”

“I’m not crazy!” Jimi shouted. “Although I was crazy to trust you in the first place, considering how we got together. How do you think it makes me feel to be deceived like this?”

“Is something wrong?” Sven asked absurdly, walking dangerously close to the ticking time bomb.

“I have no idea,” Star confessed.

“Don’t play innocent with me,” Jimi bellowed, drawing back as if to take a swing at Sven as he came within striking distance. “Don’t forget, I know the truth.”

“Just what do you think I’m guilty of?” Star asked carefully.

“Like you don’t know,” Jimi growled disgustedly. “Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“Well, I’m not a very good speller.” Star shrugged. “But I’ll take whatever clues you’ve got.”

“Sam is Sven’s girlfriend,” Jimi said as though he’d discovered the Holy Grail.

Star and Sven only stared at him expectantly, still waiting for it.

“That’s it?” Star said finally when Jimi said no more.

“You owe me a hundred dollars,” Billy said surreptitiously to Skip as Skip moved in to start the salvage operation. “That’s lunch,” he called as he took Sven’s elbow. “We need to do something with your hair.”

A much relieved crew dispersed as they all but ran away from the setup.

“My hair?” Sven said, reaching information overload, what with Jimi’s odd behavior and Brock’s whole new “tentative” concept. He wondered why Jimi felt so strongly about Sam. Was he jealous? Was Jimi gay or bi or what was going on? Sven was in his trailer before he thought to ask any of these questions and soon became distracted with the touch-ups for the scene.

Star was not so lucky. Left standing on the beach to deal with Jimi’s over-the-top reaction to something she knew nothing about, she tried once more to calm him and to figure out what he was talking about.

“Why are you so upset about Sven’s girlfriend?” Star asked gently in the hopes of not setting him off again.

“You’re fucking him, aren’t you?” Jimi demanded.

“Why does the news that he has a girlfriend make you think I’m fucking him?” Star said, looking for a place to sit down.

“Are you?”

“Of course not.” Star made her way toward the folding chairs just off camera.

“Then why all the lies?” Jimi said, grabbing her shoulder and spinning her back to face him.

“What lies?”

“Something’s up. I’ll figure it out.” Jimi clenched his fists and made a noise that caused Star’s blood to run cold. It reminded her of other men in her life. Star knew all too well this was the sound you hear before you get hit. Instinctively, she flinched, but instead of her, Jimi went after the folding chairs and coolers under the canopy in the break area.

“This innocent thing just makes it worse, Star,” Jimi wailed, waving his finger in her face, tears of rage in his eyes. “Sven is not gay and you know it.”

“Yeah, I do,” Star said, sitting at last on one of the ruined coolers. “Did you think he was?”

“Don’t act innocent,” Jimi said, kicking at what was left of the craft services table. “The game is over, Star.” He trampled potato chips and cookies under his boots. “Do you hear me? Over.”

What had just happened? Star wondered as she picked up one of the Perriers out of the sand and opened it. Jimi’s moods had always been unpredictable, but this one seemed to come completely out of nowhere. She worried that all the parties were catching up with them and that maybe something worse was going on. But most of all, she worried that the man she loved more than anything else in the world was way more upset with her than he’d ever been before. They had to trust each other.

They had to stay together.

She smiled as the answer came to her—a celebration of him. His birthday was coming up and it was the perfect excuse to throw him a party that would show him in ways that she knew he could understand just how much she loved him.

She wandered back toward the trailer as she began planning the extravaganza.

The show wrapped for the day, and when they resumed, there was a whole new script. Needless to say, the on-screen romance was derailed, however temporarily. Instead of their going back to Casey’s place, they rewrote the script to have BeeGee spot a swimmer in distress and drop Casey’s hand to run to the rescue. The answer to the tentative question turned out to be no, and the whole thing was posed as a tease. BeeGee thinks they should call it quits because the distraction at work endangers the lives of those they protect and serve. Casey still thinks they should get together or they’ll be too distracted to do their jobs in the first place.