The limo passed through some serious-looking security gates before pulling to a stop outside a secluded villa. A courtyard filled with limos, drivers and bodyguards confirmed the fact that we were in the right place; there was obviously some sort of meeting going on inside.
Moyra steered me through the front door with a firm hand.
Entering the property felt like walking into a Starbucks on a busy Saturday afternoon. The place was filled with over-styled assistants in varying degrees of hysteria, all of them were carrying expensively brewed coffee and most of them were gossiping. It was obvious that this waiting area was were all of the really interesting action of the Famous Haven Club took place. But I was not allowed to hang around.
Moyra whisked me over to a bewildered-looking blonde lady, whose huge and unceasing smile did not meet her eyes.
They were clearly old pals of some sort. The stick-thin blonde woman looked like she might just snap as she suffered a strenuous hug from Moyra.
‘Well you must be our newest member,’ cooed the woman. ‘I am very pleased to meet you Bliss. My name is Dr. Neurheim and I will be facilitating today’s meeting.’
She nodded to one of two bodyguards standing next to a huge door, who immediately lunged for my purse. But I was not about to hand over my personal possessions, even if the purse only contained a lip balm, a hairbrush and some kleenex.
Dr Neurheim placed a reassuring hand on mine.
‘Sorry Bliss,’ she whispered, ‘it’s policy here at the Club. Nobody gets to enter a meeting without being searched. Cameras, cellphones and recording devices are strictly forbidden. It’s the only way that we can guarantee privacy for our members. They even search me for goodness sake!’
She laughed politely, but I failed to see the humour in the situation as I was quickly frisked. The whole freak-show felt like one huge violation to the concept of my privacy.
I stormed through the doorway and entered another world.
The meeting room was huge and sedate. An interior designer with a big budget and a taste for modern art had obviously been employed to great effect. The whole place screamed meditation and relaxation. Some sort of new-age type music was playing and it smelled like there was some incense burning somewhere.
I slammed the door behind me and made my way towards a seating area that consisted of a circle of some over-sized beanbags. Heads turned to assess the latest recruit, but I was too annoyed to care. I sullenly kept my eyes to the floor as I threw myself down onto a seat. There was no way that I was going to participate in the stupid session and the sooner that everyone understood that, the better.
‘Hey, fresh meat,’ clucked a familiar voice.
I quickly glanced up to see one of the two most famous teenagers in town. Fatima Fairchild was the blue-haired, foul-mouthed ‘star’ of television’s most notorious reality-show family. Millions tuned in each week to witness her and her brother Fever behaving badly. Their Mom was a huge rock star with a wardrobe that seemed to consist entirely of leather outfits.
The much-pierced Fever was sitting next to his sister. He saved me the trouble of telling her to leave me alone by sharply digging her in the ribs.
A junior blonde clone who looked like she had just stepped off the fashion pages was scrutinising me from the seat just to my right.
‘What happened to your eyebrow?’ she whined.
‘What’s it to you?’ I snapped as I quickly returned my stare to the safety of the floor.
She obviously didn’t take the hint.
‘Didn’t I just see you on the cover of Celebrity Photo Today? Aren’t you Angel’s daughter?’ she asked.
I shot her a seriously evil stare.
‘Really Sophie,’ said the very elegant and handsome boy who sat in the corner, ‘you know it’s rude to ask so many questions. When your Mother interviews people she is doing so in a purely professional capacity.’
‘Allow me to introduce myself,’ said the highly-groomed boy-candy. ‘My name is Prince Alexander. Please excuse Ms Huxtable for her bad manners, she appears to have inherited her Mother’s knack for asking too many probing questions.’
So that’s why Sophie had looked so familiar.. Her Mom was the world-famous talk-show host, Honey Huxtable. Her show was syndicated worldwide and she was rumoured to earn even more than my Mom.
The Famous Haven Club was clearly pretty exclusive turf; I was surrounded by the ultimate in A-list progeny.
Dr Neurheim entered with another young member in tow. The dark-haired boy looked even more mad than me and I was pretty sure that I had seen his face somewhere before. Our frozen-smiled facilitator steered the boy to a seat next to hers before she began.
‘I would like to welcome you all to this meeting of the Famous Haven Club,’ she cooed, sounding more like a particularly manic air stewardess than a shrink. She extended her hand towards my seat. ‘And I would particularly like to welcome our newest member, Bliss Drew.’
The circle greeted this announcement with a lethargic round of applause.
‘As you all know, you all share a common bond,’ she continued. ‘You are all products of a privileged identity. Families who face fame face many challenges. And today we will be exploring ways that each of you can embrace your own specialness..’
Now I seriously wanted to gag. The idea of exploring my own specialness brought me out in a cold sweat. Was there an exit door anywhere?
‘But before we do that,’ said Dr Neurheim with a sudden look of sad concern, ‘Zach would like to share with the group.’
Zach, the dark-haired boy looked uncomfortable and annoyed. He shifted around in his chair, clearly feeling no urgent need to share anything with the group.
‘Hear you totalled that Ferarri, man,’ said Fever Fairchild.
‘Did they manage to get the car out of the pool? asked Sophie Huxtable.
Zach rolled his eyes and I suddenly realized why he had looked so familiar. Pictures of him had filled the papers and magazines when he was rumoured to have driven his Dad’s $1 million Ferarri into the indoor swimming pool of their mansion. His Dad, the big-shot comedian and actor Colin O’Connor had made a huge joke of the incident, but even in a town notorious for extravagant bad behaviour, news of Zach’s crash was still front-page stuff.
He was a Troubled Teen for sure. Although I seriously doubted that the intervention of Dr Neurheim or The Famous Haven Club was about to do anything to change that.
Zach O’Connor had earned his ticket to this assembly of freaks. My transgressions would not even register on his scale of bad behaviour.
I prayed that this would be the last meeting of The Famous Haven Club that I would ever have to endure.
Dr Neurheim quickly registered the fact that Zach was not about to spill his emotional guts to the group (and who could blame him?). So she decided to move things along.
‘Okay everyone,’ she said, ‘let’s start this meeting with some really positive energy. A little affirming exercise should do the trick.’
Fatima and Fever rolled their eyes. They seemed to know what to expect.
‘Everyone in the circle, please turn to the person on your left,’ Dr Neurheim instructed.
Like everyone else, I did as I was told.
I turned to my left and realised that I was sitting next to Dee Dee Jones. Her Mom, Janet Jones, was the first female Governor. I had seen pictures of the famous first family of the state everywhere during the recent campaign. Dee Dee’s huge brown eyes were unmistakable. And she looked as uncomfortable in this setting as she had looked at all of the highly-publicised state events that I had ever seen.
Who would ever want to be a politician’s kid? It was almost worse than having a Mom in the movie business.
Dee Dee quickly turned to her left, presenting me with her back.
‘Okay everyone,’ enthused Dr Neurheim, ‘let’s affirm each other with gentle pats on the back. And I want you all to repeat after me “you are a Special Person in your own right”’.
All around the room people patted each other backs and repeated the mantra;
You are a Special Person in your own right.
You are a Special Person in your own right.
You are a Special Person in your own right.
It occurred to me that I was, perhaps, the only sane person in the group.