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All That Glitters	By : ivorylace Category: Individual Celebrities > Johnny Depp Views: 2038 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know Johnny Depp. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-All That Glitters
- 1
Author Notes: My first attempt at “real person” fanfiction. I have the plot all planned out, but I won’t add more chapters unless people want them, as I’m not sure if anyone will even like this. So please let me know what you think. I do plan for this story to include sex scenes in future chapters. The Shimmer Awards that feature in this story are, as far as I know, my own creation and do not exist in reality. This fic is set in the present 2006, but for the sake of the story, I ask you to pretend Kate and Vanessa never entered Johnny’s life, that he doesn’t have children, and that he still owns the Viper Room. Lastly, while I don’t own Johnny or any other celebrites, I do own any original characters who appear. I also own the plot.

ALL THAT GLITTERS

CHAPTER ONE:
THE DEATH OF A DREAM

Once, the whole world had known her name.

Once, people would happily stampede over each other to try and get near to her, just to get a glimpse of her in the flesh.

Once, hordes of adoring fans would wait for hours upon hours just so she’d scribble her signature in some old notebook for them.

Once, she had been a star.

Claire Tatlock carefully picked up the gold statue from where it posed on the mantel piece. Even now, it still sparkled. It would always sparkle. She polished it herself every day, looking after the trophy with all the love and care a mother would show to a newborn baby. An Oscar meant that you’d made it. An Oscar meant that you were on top of the world and that everyone loved you.

How quickly the mighty could fall. And all it had taken was a couple of bad scripts and a few malicious rumours.

Putting the statue back in its rightful place, Claire opened her little purse and fumbled for her cigarettes and lighter. She pulled them out and lit a joint, and took a long, blissful drag.

The doorbell rang.

‘Claire, the limo’s here!’ Alex announced from the hall.

Claire didn’t turn her head as her husband entered the lounge. She just stared into the fireplace, watching the flames dance. If she had any say in the matter, she’d be staying home tonight. A party was the absolute last place she wanted to be, especially when there was an award show involved.

The Shimmer Awards were on a much, much smaller scale than the Oscars or the Emmy’s or even the Tony’s, but the awards were still highly thought of within the entertainment industry.

‘Are you really going to wear that?’ he frowned at Claire’s outfit.

Claire stared down at the red evening dress she was wearing. She knew she was too old for such an outfit. It made her look like one of those twenty dollar whores who walked the Boulevard. But at the same time, she still had a great figure, and she didn’t like letting it go to waste. What tight ass made the rule that you have to cover up once you hit your thirties, anyway? She’d wear what she damn well liked.

‘You know what? I’m sure no-one’ll give a shit. Let’s face it, the night’ll be about me a lot more than it’ll be about you,’ Alex came over to the mirror and motioned to her to move. She stepped aside and he straightened his bowtie and smiled at his reflection, satisfied.

‘Then why are you dragging me along?’ argued Claire. She really, really didn’t want to go.

‘You’re my wife. Think how it would look if you weren’t there. I’ll be in the car. Try not to take forever?’

Alex left, leaving the front door open behind him.

Looking at herself in the mirror that hung over the fireplace, Claire sighed, wondering how it had all gone wrong. Not just her career, but her marriage, too. They’d loved each other once. Alex had swept her off her feet when they’d met on the set of “Beyond the Sea”.
It hadn’t just been some whirlwind romance. The first five years had been a happy time, for both of them. Her marriage had only started to decline after she suffered her first major flop.

Even now, Claire couldn’t work out how Illumination had failed so badly. She’d fallen in love with the script when she’d first read it, and making that movie had been one of the best experiences of her life. She’d revelled in playing Anya Jones, the bad girl with a heart of gold who just wanted to be loved. Claire had easily been able to relate to the character of Anya, and she had really given the role her all.

It hadn’t been enough. For some reason, audiences had hated the movie. Claire couldn’t figure out why; even now, she still loved the script.

If Illumination had been her only flop, she probably would have managed to still salvage her career. But every film she made after that also underperformed at the box office. After her fourth flop, she’d gone to her agent and asked what was going on. He’d only replied, ‘You’re old news, sweetheart. They’re bored of you. They want new blood…face it, honey – you’re day in the sun’s been over for a long time.’

The words had devastated her, but Claire had taken them onboard. She listened to Malcolm. Malcolm Mitchell was the most respected and successful agent in Hollywood. He knew what he was talking about. If he said it was over, then it was over. She could have tried to keep going, but she’d known the moment he’d said his words that it would be pointless. So she’d given up. Bowed out gracefully, while she’d still had some dignity. It wasn’t like she really needed the money. Alex earned enough as a writer to provide for both of them, and Claire had been careful enough with her royalties that she had her own money to fall back on.

From outside, the limo horn blared.

‘I’m coming, you impatient bastard,’ snapped Claire. She flicked her half smoked cigarette into the fire and checked herself one last time in the mirror.

A twenty dollar hooker indeed. Never mind. It was too late to change now. Claire put her cigarette pack and lighter back into her purse and left the house, grabbing her coat on the way out. It was going to be a long night.

* * * *
The beauty of the Four Seasons hotel was completely lost on Claire as she strolled through the main entrance, her own arm looped through Alex’s.

Reporters from every TV channel and magazine imaginable littered the lobby and Claire instantly found herself being blinded as a million camera’s all went off at once as she and Alex made it inside.

‘Mr. Perkins, Mr. Perkins!’ a reporter called, stepping forward and shoving a microphone into Alex’s face. ‘Your screenplay for the movie “Ghosts” is up for a Shimmer award. Are you feeling lucky tonight?’

‘You know what? If I said “no”, I’d be lying,’ Alex smiled, and gave the reporter a confident wink. Claire was barely able to stop herself from rolling her eyes.

‘We all know that Johnny Depp, who played William Stamper in the movie, is up for the Best Actor award. Do you think he’ll be lucky, too?

‘If he doesn’t win, it’ll just be more proof that the world’s gone mad,’ replied Alex. While most of the guests were rushing to get away from the press, Alex hung around. He loved the attention. Claire wished he didn’t. It wasn’t fun hanging on his arm and being treated like she wasn’t even there.

‘Johnny totally nailed that part,’ Alex continued to shower the actor with praise. ‘It’s largely due to him that Ghosts has been so successful. If he’s robbed of tonight’s Best Actor award, it’ll be the crime of the centaury.’

Alex spent several more minutes with the press, but finally they were shown into the ballroom where the ceremony was being held. Claire couldn’t wait to sit down. Her shoes were murdering her feet.

‘Johnny! Great to see you!’

As they reached their table, Alex greeted Johnny enthusiastically. The table was already full; they were the last to arrive. Seated at it were cast and crew who had worked on Alex’s movie. Johnny Depp was seated next to Michelle Pfeiffer, who had played the female lead in the film. On the other side of Johnny was some random blonde who appeared to be his date. She looked as phony and empty headed as they came. Claire didn’t recognise her and decided she was probably one of those high class escort girls.

‘Hi, Alex,’ Johnny politely returned the greeting. ‘Hi, Claire. Nice to see you again.’

The former starlet flashed a half-hearted smile, but said nothing. It wasn’t that she had anything against Depp. They’d worked together once six years ago and it had been fine. He’d been a good co-star and she’d enjoyed working with him. But this was business, and she hated business. She hated the superficiality of it all and the way people pretended they liked each other just for the sake of good publicity.

‘It’ll be a while before things get underway. I’m going to the bar,” announced Claire, rising from her seat. Screw the painful shoes, she needed a damn drink. ‘Please excuse me.’

Feeling suffocated, she made her exit, not caring that Alex would be annoyed. She could drink at the table in the ballroom, but she wanted a few moments alone to try and keep it together. These ceremonies did terrible things to her head and stomach.

What the Hell had happened? At one time it would have been her getting excited and preparing to go and give her big acceptance speech. Now Alex was more famous, or at least more respected, than she was, and he was just a writer. Any idiot could write a story, but to be an actor, you had to have something truly special and unique about you to stand a chance of even just getting your foot in the door. And to make it further than that, you had to be magical. You had to shine!

She reached the bar and went straight to the counter, sitting down on one of the stools. The hem of her dress rose up and she tugged at it, wishing she’d changed anyway back at the house, lack of time or not. Alex had been right to disapprove.

‘What can I get you, Ma’am?’ asked the bartender as she tried to make herself comfortable.

‘Something nice and strong. I think a White Russian should do it,’ she ordered.

‘Yes, Ma’am,’ the bartender nodded dutifully.

‘You too, huh?’

The new voice made Claire jump. She turned her head and frowned. Depp was standing behind her. A freshly lit cigarette was in his hand, making her long for her own pack of smokes that were still locked in her purse. Well, no-one was going to mind if she had one here. She took the cigs and lighter out and sparked her own joint, inhaling deeply.

He smiled, watching her, taking a puff on his own. ‘Glad to see I’m not the only one who’d rather be up here.’

‘Why don’t you wanna be down there? Everyone loves you,’ Claire couldn’t keep the sarcasm or envy out of her voice.

The bartender placed her drink in front of her and she took a sip. Perfect.

‘At the moment. You know what this business is like. One minute your up, next your down,’ said Johnny flatly.

Claire felt her heart sink even lower.

She must’ve gotten some sort of look on her face, because Johnny clearly instantly regretted his words. ‘Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean - ’

‘Forget it,’ said Claire. She knew he hadn’t meant to embarrass her. If there was one thing she did know about Johnny, it was that he was actually a genuine guy. An exceptionally rare thing in this crazy place. ‘You staying up here? What about your date?’

‘She’s okay. She’ll be happier down there, alone or not…she was going on and on in the limo about how she can use tonight to network,’ mild amusement filled Johnny’s eyes.

‘Why’d you bring her anyway?’ asked Claire. “She doesn’t seem like your type.”

‘Really? Well, who do you think is my type?’ Johnny sat down on the bar stool next to her and ordered a red wine.

‘I don’t know,’ Claire shrugged and took another sip of her White Russian, ‘just not her.’

Johnny just smiled and Claire felt at ease for the first time all day. She wished she could stay in the bar for more than just a few minutes.

Too soon, she had finished her drink. Oh well. Time to go back to the rat race!
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All That Glitters