Chapter Text
November 1943:
For as long as I can remember, we have always been different. Total polar opposites of each other. The both of us were the biggest names in Hollywood, and yet, I couldn't stand to be in her presence. Just like water and oil, some things shouldn't mix together. It’s like that with our personalities but also our personal lives and careers.
More than ten years ago I arrived in this city. I was a young yankee that was raised as a puritan, whose acting career had started on Broadway. Just recalling my younger self, waiting for me and my mother to get picked up at the train station had me almost giggling. No one came for us. What a naïve girl I was for Hollywood.
At first it wasn’t easy at all. Like every actor who tried to make a name of themselves in the pictures, I was belittled for my appearance. I kept hearing that I wasn’t attractive, I looked like a man, my eyes were too big, my body wasn’t sensual enough, and I had no sex appeal. It was really hurtful in the beginning, but I decided that my talent should speak for itself rather than my looks.
They didn’t know what to do with me, they didn't know where I fit as an actress. I tried so many roles, roles that I wasn’t comfortable in. They didn’t fit me at all, I didn’t want to be the heroine all the time. I liked the complex characters, the ones that lured you with their mystery, their insanity, their pettiness, their disturbed soul, their selfishness…
Universal decided to dump me and just when I was about to leave and give up, Warner called me. I got a new opportunity, like it was my fateful destiny.
I started to put my stamp on Hollywood when I starred in Of Human Bondage . My character, Mildred, had exactly what I was looking for. It earned me my first Oscar nomination. The first of the seven that I have accomplished so far, winning two of the Golden statues.
I became a tough, strong and very opinionated woman. I was never going to be run over, I would never let that happen. I would talk, and they would listen. Being a woman in this industry was hard and I knew how to play the game.
That is why I am the way I am. Confrontational, impertinent but one hell of an actor, if I say so myself. An actress, the title no one could take away from me.
I have reached this point in my career by pouring my blood, sweat, and tears into it, and I was so proud of myself for what I had achieved. But it wasn’t enough, it was never enough for me. I would never satisfy myself with mediocrity.
But her… She was another story. Joan, La Belle Crawford as I sometimes would call her, was already a big name when I was starting in Hollywood. Her success came from her hard work and perseverance. She started dancing at nightclubs, traveling shows, just getting any job she could to survive. She was discovered by an MGM agent, and with an ambitious soul, she reached stardom. A real Cinderella story.
Her beauty, dance moves, and her ability to blend into any character were her strengths. She could seamlessly go from being a flapper, a socialité, to a working factory girl. I remember clearly the first time I saw her on the big screen, prancing around in Dancing Lady . She starred in that role alongside Clark Gable, exuding an enviable charisma. Her smile brightened the screen as she swayed her hips, moving her hands gracefully, shaking her curly hair in a seductive way… It looked like she was born to be a movie star. You couldn't take your eyes off her, she was like a magnet. She could have you in the palm of her hand in just a second. She could act coy, sassy, insolent, ingenuous and everything in between. Even a bitchy mistress, like in The Women .
If anything, she was the epitome of classiness, elegance… and a whole lotta woman. Everybody wanted to be like her. Her face was so distinguishable, one of a kind: prominent jaw and cheekbones, full lips, thick eyebrows, deep blue eyes and even though she concealed them with makeup… She had freckles too.
Her body was something to rave about too. A slim figure, strong and toned legs thanks to her dancer days, delicate and doll-like arms, a small waist and bounteous curly hair.
I could understand why men would sigh over her. I've seen her before at a ball or an event like the Oscars, but from a distance. She would always steal all the looks and the attention, getting admirers around her like servants, waiting for her to do something… A flick of the hair, a wink… Anything… And they would faint.
We were from different Studios so we didn't know much about each other. Usually when actors were from different studios, it was hard for them to interact or see one another at all. But that has now changed.
Joan was out of contract after she left MGM so she was offered one to join Warner Brothers Studios. We were probably going to be the two biggest starlets of the Studios. And I wasn’t amused about it. Not one bit.
She and I had an unfortunate experience in the past, exactly eight years ago. She took away the man I was in love with, on purpose. And I haven't forgotten that. People could call me petty, I don't care. I could be a very resentful person from time to time, and in this particular case, I was no stranger to that feeling.
Franchot Tone was the reason of our fight. He was my co-star in Dangerous . As we were filming that movie, I fell in love with him. I was head over heels for him so quickly, it was embarrassing. Yes, he was Joan's boyfriend at the time, but I felt he was on the same page that I was. But that woman… When she found out about it, thanks to the rumors… She married him.
She always did what she wanted, take anyone that she liked and then after using them, throw them away like it was nothing. Just like she did with Franchot. I despised her for that.
Joan signed her contract in July of 1943. But for my fortune, I didn’t see her around for the first months. I had heard rumors she wasn’t finding good scripts.
I, on the other hand, was a busy bee. I had filmed a movie already which premiered this past weekend, Old Acquaintance. It was a good movie from my perspective. I had so much fun filming it, especially when I had to put Miriam Hopkings’s character in her place, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her roughly as the scene required. We didn’t get along, and it was fun to bring her to her senses for once.
The Hollywood Canteen was another project that had me occupied. When I wasn’t filming, I was there. That bar was like my own baby. John Garfield, Jules Stein and I founded it last year. It was a club that offered food and entertainment for the servicemen before they would go overseas to the War. I headed it, as the president of the project.
It was a way of showing that Hollywood wasn’t such an untouchable or uncaring place but we were lending a hand to our troops, giving them the support that they needed. It wasn't much, but it was all we could do. Cheer them up, and maybe even give them the most joyous day of their lives. Because numerous stars would come to help out at the canteen: from entertaining the soldiers with a song, to waiting on tables, cooking, cleaning up… All that jazz, there would be lucky ones that even get to dance with an actress.
We had a wall where we had portraits of all the actors who had went to War, honoring them. Not only stars helped the club: directors, producers, musicians, dancers, singers, writers, publicists, agents… A ton of people did. I was glad I wasn’t on my own with this, I had so much support and there were so many generous people who were donating to the cause.
It was Monday night at The Canteen and I was with John enjoying a few drinks as we watched the band playing. The night had been rather calm and the soldiers seemed to be having a good time, although tonight there wasn’t any female star to distract them. I was pretty tired by that point to even consider entertaining or serving them. I had been filming the entire day for Mr. Skeffington and I needed a break.
That movie had taken a toll on me and I was so close to finishing it. Next week filming should be complete. I just couldn't wait. Even thinking about the entire filming process, gave me a headache.
The calmness of that night was interrupted when the woman with the perfectly styled poodle hair walked in through the door. Oh god, I’ll definitely get a headache now. Joan Crawford in all her whole glory, entered the Canteen with a huge smile plastered on her face. “What’s she doing here?” I huffed, sighing in discontent.
Every soldier had their eyes on her, gathering around her. All I could hear was `` Miss Crawford, you look gorgeous, Miss Crawford can I get an autograph, Miss Crawford you’re my favorite actress !” She was like the Pied Piper of Hamelin, hypnotizing men, making them follow her around.
She was wearing a two piece black women's suit, a pencil skirt, a cream colored blouse, and a jacket with the biggest shoulder pads that you could imagine. Her signature makeup was on point: her red lips, eyeliner and falsies? Huh, what a ridiculous woman! , I thought to myself.
“Calm down Bette, she’s just here to help, don’t worry…” John tried to ease me, and I gave him a look.
“That doesn’t take away the fact I want to kick her out” I spat, not a trace of friendliness thought towards her.
“As the president you know you need to be cordial towards her, after all, she’s one of the big stars in the city…” He made me consider, as he stared back at the woman who was crowded with men.
“I know…” I sighed, not amused by it, submitting myself to my unfortunate fate.
“Endure this for the Canteen, for those boys… They must be having the time of their lives…” He made a small gesture with his hand, pointing vaguely towards the woman we were talking about.
I stared at those young guys as I thought for a second what John was saying. Their eyes gleamed while looking at that striking woman. “Ugh, you’re right… God, give me strength to deal with this woman!” I looked up at the sky, like the lord would hear my insignificant prayer. Patience would come in handy right now.
Joan was giggling, signing handkerchiefs, notebooks and giving them flirty looks. Her sole presence annoyed me to the core. You can do this, if you can deal with Jack Warner, you can deal with anything .
“Boys, boys!” The brunette alerted. “Can you excuse me for a moment? I'll be right back!”
“Of course Miss Crawford!” Those men were all being respectful towards her, as they gave her some space to walk away.
My eyes widened for a second as I saw her approaching us with a very satisfied and confident smile on her face. She was staring only at me, so intensely that I had to get a sip of my whisky.
“Good evening… John!” First she gave him a kiss and then her eyes landed on me. Her smile belonged to the big screen, it almost looked fabricated. I was going to shake her hands but my personal space was invaded when she kissed me on each cheek. She thinks she's a French poodle, just like her perfume. “Miss Davis… It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you…” Her words dripped from her mouth like honey, she was enjoying this too much. I hated it.
Her delicate manicured hand went to her hair, making her curls bounce as she fixed them. The way she talked, how she stood, her poised attitude, was completely manufactured. Like she was controlling every single movement of hers. She was the south, I was the north .
“What is the reason for honoring us with your presence?” I asked this sarcastically, crossing my arms in front of my chest, ready as always for any confrontation.
“Calm down darling, I’m just here to support the cause and help my fellow co-worker.” She was referring to me, her blue eyes staring at me with a hidden intention.
“Thank you Joan, we appreciate your help” John squeezed her shoulder with a friendly smile, while I was fuming on the inside. I don’t appreciate it .
“You don’t have to thank me John, I love to do this. What can I do?” She gripped her purse with an excited energy, asking in glee for a task to do. Her gaze landed on me, like she expected me to give her something to do.
“Wipe the tables!” I exclaimed, storming out towards the kitchen. I can't stand her, I can't stand her, I can't stand her …
I secluded myself in there, watching from afar how John helped her, giving her indications and the proper apron to serve. Joan couldn't stop smiling, doing everything with an energy I couldn't possibly have in me. Especially now.
“Are you alright Miss Davis?” I turned my head abruptly to one of the makeup artists that is quite often helping in the kitchen.
“Yes, I’m alright” I wish I was .
“What was all that fuss out there?” The young girl asked as she scrubbed the dishes.
“Joan Crawford came in to help…” I answered with disdain, as I searched for my pack of cigarettes to light one in desperation.
“Oh Joan, I did her make up once. Her face is perfect! She’s just lovely!” the woman said with admiration in her voice. I couldn't bear to listen about her one more second. I exhaled the smoke and decided I'd prefer to enjoy this cigarette alone in peace.
***
After a long smoking break outside, in the back alley where I usually go when I needed some time on my own, I continued with my duties. I made sure that everything was okay around the club. I avoided Joan as much as I could. Surprisingly, an hour passed by so quickly. When I didn’t have any more excuses to go around the canteen, I sat down at the bar to get another drink.
The whisky gave the familiar burning sensation in my throat, making me sigh softly afterwards, trying to hold on to that sensation for a moment of satisfaction that I was lacking lately. I then looked at the glass with the ambar liquor in it, without any sentiment. I was trying to get out of this personal crisis, but it was so hard.
Four months ago, I became a widow out of nowhere. I had lost Arthur tragically, and I didn’t know how to deal with it. I had put all my energies back into work. Desperate to escape the loneliness, the sadness, the emptiness I knew I was long avoiding.
I was doing better, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t hard. Just the thought of going home every night all by myself, to sleep in my empty bed… Just made me feel miserable.
Sometimes I didn’t know how I managed to keep up with my own schedule, how I made it this far without crumbling. I knew I was a strong woman and that when I got something in my head, I could make anything happen. But oftentimes it was scary that I could even go on like this.
My deep thoughts were interrupted by a well known voice. “I'll have what she’s having!” I looked up, finding Joan beside me. She had asked for a drink from the barman, and I wanted to run away from her but I was beyond tired.
Now that I noticed, her hair under the lights was slightly red. A deep, dark red. I noticed her freckles on her eyelids. Even her profile was almost perfect, how irritating . She turned to me, smiling softly. “You know… Yesterday I watched Old Acquaintance at the theater…”
I raised a brow, staring at her with the same feeling I had when I gazed at my whisky just a few moments ago. “You were wonderful, and I don’t think Miriam could keep up with you…” I wanted to smile, to agree but then I remembered who I was talking to.
“Yeah, I didn’t want her to do that, we tried to outperform each other all the time…” I took another sip of my whisky, trying to avoid her piercing eyes.
"I guessed she'd be like that…" She was trying so hard to make a conversation with me, what an attention seeker .
"Here ya go Miss Crawford" The barman said, making her take a sip of it.
"Anyways…" She sighed, gazing at her glass and then raising her eyes to meet mine. "I think you should wear ties more often…"
"What?" I was puzzled about what she was saying, frowning at her. She sounded so random.
"Like Kit, your character…" She recalled the movie I just starred in. "That suit at the beginning…" She closed her eyes in delight and I couldn't comprehend what was going on. Then she opened her big and expressive eyes to stare at me with intention. "It made you look so…" She sighed, almost moaning the next word. "... Beautiful…"
She must be kidding me . My eyes couldn't be more wide open. Was she trying to do what I thought she did?
Joan smiled, her dimples showing off her soft skin. Her eyes had great intention… Were they… Seductive? She must be out of her mind. Then La Belle drank the entire glass in one go, and mumbled to me "I have to go, the boys need me my dear…" She squeezed my arm softly, leaving me starstruck on that bar stool.
For sure she was unbearable and out of her mind. I just wished this torture of being in the same studio with her would be something easy for me to digest.
I just hoped that we wouldn't have to cross paths that often and that Warner never paired us up in any movie. Just thinking about it gave me the shivers.
Never, not in a million years .
Notes:
Btw Happy birthday Joanie!
Thanks to our editor, Steph <3
Chapter 2: Mr. Skeffington
Summary:
“Miss Davis… She’s your new neighbor, didn’t you know?” He said the news, like it was nothing.
My eyes widened at that. “You gotta be joking!” I spat, alarmed.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
March 1944:
Unfortunately, the day finally came where I had to face her, and I brought it upon myself. Yes, it was my own fault.
Those last couple of years have been hard for everyone, the war happening around us has not given anyone a break since it started. But the soldiers, the guys that were on the front lines, had it the worst. Seeing your friends die right in front of you could make you lose your mind and yourself. The boys would come home from Europe with sad faces and disturbed eyes, hoping to forget what they experienced out there by living a "normal" life even just for a brief moment. That’s where Hollywood Canteen comes in, giving them a safe space for them to drink, dance, have fun and create bonds.
I still remember the time when one of them sat at the bar, the bags under his eyes were purple and his eyes bloodshot red. He asked me for two glasses of whisky and I asked back with whom he came with. The boy looked me in the eyes, almost ashamed and answered that they were both for him. To forget what he saw out there, to drink in the name of his best friend that had died in his arms. To just be able to close his eyes, sleep and to not have to remember what he lived through that day. I could see the pain in his gaze, and the way both of his eyes swam in tears. All I could do was extend my hand and caress his, giving him the two glasses so he could honor his dear friend.
I never felt so useless in my life, like there was nothing I could do to help him. I’m sure his mates had a similar feeling to mine, because they just patted him on the back, asked for another round of beers, and took him to the dance floor to dance to "We Will Meet Again'' by Vera Lynn with some girl he didn’t know. Even though he cried as he danced and held this girl close, trying to find some kind of comfort as he broke down, when the song finished his face showed a new light that wasn’t there before. That’s how I knew that we, the artists, were able to lift these boys' spirits with our art and our presence.
Seeing them so happy to be alive, trying to find someone to share that excitement with, drinking so they could forget, crying and saying goodbye to their dead friends was what motivated me to make a film about the bar. The place that gave them the space that they needed. I may have created the bar, but it was truly their bar. The film was a romantic comedy to make them focus on something that wasn’t sad or too deep. Something to make them laugh and bring their strength back.
Jack Warner loved the idea, he was actually already thinking of doing something similar. The popularity of the canteen was so big that New York built another one. The difference there was that Broadway actors were the ones who were leading the project.
In a blink of an eye, the writers were working on a script and when I least expected it, the movie slowly became a reality. John was thrilled about it and decided to join in on the work.
“I think we should have a wide range of guest actors, little cameos, and probably a few singers… I’ll have to ring a few managers…” Jack Warner said with his hand on his chin, looking thoughtful about it.
“Well, me and Bette were thinking of asking some of our fellow friends to join the film…” John said, pointing to both of us and I nodded in agreement expectantly towards the elder man.
“I already have a list!” Jack said, raising his palm to stop us and I frowned. He grabbed the paper and started to read a series of actors. “Dorothy Malone, Dennis Morgan, Barbara Stanwyck, Alexis Smith, Faye Emerson, Jack Carson, Joan Crawford…”
I immediately interrupted him when I heard that last name. “Joan Crawford?” I asked, a tad annoyed and alerted at the same time.
“Of course! She’s been here for months and has not starred in any movie. I gotta put her in it, even if it’s only a cameo” He lit a cigar, exhaling a huge cloud of smoke, not seeming to budge on that idea.
“But why?” I insisted. John was looking at me, already worried.
“After you, she’s the biggest female star here. When people read her name on the signs, they’re going to buy a ticket just to see her. And what’s all the fuss about? Since when is she a problem to you?”
“She’s unbearable!” Like that was all my reasons to avoid her presence.
“Bette, don’t start. I want you two to get along, I don’t want any scandals in the middle of this. She’s not even going to share the screen with you, so why do you get upset?” He raised his hands questioningly.
When he said that, I gotta say I was pretty relieved, so I deflated in front of him, trying to relax on my chair.
“Also, didn’t you want to do this for the soldiers? To cheer them up?” He questioned, raising a brow.
“Yes, of course…” Somehow I wanted to sound stern, but I failed.
“Then keep them on your mind when you’re filming this. I don’t think a minute of Crawford on the screen it’s going to take away that.” I hated to accept it, but he was right. For once this man was being rational.
“Okay, I’ll endure Miss. Crawfish then…” Both men giggled at my joke that I had made without even thinking.
***
That day was my first day back at the Warner’s Studios after my break. More than two months ago, when we finished shooting Mr. Skeffington , I was out of the door, desperate. I had taken a small vacation that was urgently needed and thank god I did because it helped me so much to recover the energy that I was lacking. I was feeling much better, almost like those free days revived me so I could keep going.
I was feeling in a good mood, although Jack had been quite annoying at that meeting. But it wasn’t enough to ruin my day. I wouldn’t let him.
After the reunion, I went to my dressing room. As I reached the door, I was so busy trying to find the keys on my purse that I didn’t realize there was a bouquet of red roses beside the door. When I had the keys in my hand, I looked down, frowning. I bent down to grab the little card that came with them.
“Welcome back” it said. It was handwritten and had no names on it. I was no stranger to receiving flowers constantly, but rarely would I get some without the name of the gifter. Strange . Nonetheless, it seemed that someone at least was greeting me back with this thoughtful gesture.
I opened the door and took the flowers with me, placing them on my vanity. Maybe later I’ll find out who sent them. I had to now get ready for a photoshoot to promote Mr. Skeffington . We had a few months before it premiered, but we had it scheduled now so I could get this over with quickly. I wanted this movie to be the definitive ending of a dark period of my life.
Soon the hairdresser and the makeup artist were here to put me back into looking like Fanny’s character. A late 1910s bourgeois young lady, with huge curly hair, that almost reached the sky, a fascinator made out of ostrich feathers, and a long dress made out of silk and lace. The makeup was precious, making me look even younger than I was. Dolling me up took at least an hour, and I had to hurry since the photographer was already there on set.
As soon as I arrived there, I greeted the photographer and his assistant. He made me pose in front of the chimney, beside the fake window, sitting on a chaise lounge, and the sofa.
I was posing as gracefully as I could, remembering I was a beautiful rich dame that could pick any man, having admirers left to right. Pretty vain too.
I was very concentrated on my task, looking above me as the photographer instructed me, that I didn’t realize who was lingering in the back of the room. After he snapped the photo I looked at the man behind the camera, waiting for another instruction from him. That’s when I saw her.
Joan was supporting herself against the doorway, posing with way too much confidence. The white jumpsuit she was wearing was almost impossible to miss, making your eyes go straight to her. Her eyes were covered by black sunglasses and she was smoking a cigarette like she was having the time of her life.
A sly smile was on her red lips when our gazes met. My entire face changed, tensing. “Miss Davis, please can you soften your expression?” The man asked kindly.
My attention had to avert back to the photographer who was trying to make me focus again for the next picture. “Yes…” I mumbled, posing again, taking a deep breath and relaxing. After the flash illuminated my face, I realized she was gone.
“Can you please fix her curls on her temple?” Phil, the photographer, asked the hairdresser that was overseeing that his work was perfect for the shoot.
“Immediately…” Harry, the young man that was often in charge of my hair for my movies, approached me to fix the hairdo.
“What was she doing here?” I mumbled to him uneased, as he did his job on the wig.
“Who Miss Davis?” Harry asked pluzzed.
“Joan Crawford…” He looked around for a few seconds.
“No idea, she’s not here now…” He stared back at me again. “That's strange, I thought you had seen her earlier today…”
“No, why would I have seen her?” I questioned him right away, intrigued.
“Miss Davis… She’s your new neighbor, didn’t you know?” He said the news, like it was nothing.
My eyes widened at that. “You gotta be joking!” I spat, alarmed.
“I’m not” I knew he was not lying. Poor guy, he didn’t know why I had reacted in that way, startling him.
I stood up like lightning had struck me. I approached Phil quickly. “Let’s take a break…” I said without waiting on an answer.
“Uh- Sure Miss Davis…” He seemed surprised by my sudden change of humor, frowning as I walked away.
I couldn't walk that fast in my delicate outfit as I headed to the dressing rooms. I did try my best to hurry, expecting that Harry was confused or hoping that he was lying or pulling a prank on me.
I was almost heaving as I reached my destination, holding my dress up enough so I wouldn't step on it. At my right there was Nancy Coleman’s dressing room, unchanged. I kept on walking, fearing what I was going to find at the left dressing room.
A yellow star welcomed me at the door. Inside of it there was the name tag: Joan Crawford. She’s trying to get on my nerves . I felt myself tense up, my good mood fading away completely. I was fuming as I stared at that name.
“Were you looking for me, sugar ?” I heard her voice behind me, full of herself. I turned around with a profound stare, showing how annoyed I was.
“Why is your dressing room next to mine?!” I asked her without wasting a second, pointing at that door.
“Oh, I hope you don’t mind dear , I asked Jack to give me this one…” I could see behind those sunglasses, her cheeky stare. The sun was hitting on her freckled face that was free of any makeup except her lips. The morning light highlighted her red burgundy hair that was styled simpler than usual, a half ponytail with her curls falling on her ends. Joan had sounded too serene for my mood.
“And I guessed you did it on purpose, just to get on my nerves!” I accused, supporting my hands on my hips confrontationally. I was ready for an argument, my eyes fixed on my objective.
“Why would I get on your nerves?” She laughed, seeming unbothered about it as she grabbed a cigarette from her purse and lit it up, exhaling the smoke from the corners of her mouth. She was analyzing me, tilting her head. “That's ridiculous darling!”
“Look, I’m not here to fool around with your stupid behavior, so you better not get in my way. Unlike you, I have movies to film!” I spit it out, throwing a punch with my words.
But it didn’t have the effect that I had expected. Instead she inhaled the cigarette, her prominent cheeks hollowing, taking her sweet time. La Belle exhaled the smoke as a satisfied smile appeared on her face. “You look too cute to be frowning like that”
“Get out of my sight!” I huffed while heading to my dressing room, taking refuge there. I closed the door with force, sighing in utter anger.
Then I remembered Jack’s words telling me that I had to be careful and not get into fights with her. Especially if we were filming Hollywood Canteen together. I knew Warner didn’t want that movie to be stained with controversies or animosities, since it was a project that was targeted to the soldiers. He didn’t want any bad publicity that could take away from the main objective of the film.
“Son of a bitch!” I cursed out loud to myself, trying to consider how I would handle this. How should I treat her from now on? I was too honest a person to pretend that I liked her. I couldn't be fake towards anyone. It just simply wasn’t me. Journalists would just love to have an article talking about how she and I hated each other, a slight rumor that could start on the set.
The one thing I knew I had to do first was to tone down my attitude. That would require the force of a dozen men to do that. I pinched my nose, sighing in remorse. God, I don’t think I’ll survive this without snapping again .
I just wish that a day filming with her never came.
Notes:
Hii everyone! The dressing room thing was real, Bette in her book wrote that Joan asked the one next to her when she came to Warner, for reasons that "only she knew".
Thank you Steph for editing! <3
Chapter 3: Hollywood Canteen Pt 1
Summary:
“What are you doing here? You have no scenes to film today!” I muttered, a tad annoyed as my right hand landed on my hip.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
July 1944:
The filming for Hollywood Canteen started. The days on set went smoothly, most of the time. The amount of people running around was immense, all you could hear were people chattering all around, actresses catching up, and crew members making sure every detail was perfect. Organized chaos.
It all had been like a big gathering of the Warner family. The movie was so packed with stars, that it felt like a reunion. I would see some of them from time to time at the real canteen, but now we were all in one place.
Last week we finished filming at the big theater that simulated the Hollywood Canteen. We even had a horse on the set. Yes, Jack Warner and his crazy ideas! I found the script… too bland for me. It was weird to act like myself in the movie, just be normal .
The fact I didn’t have a character to work with, just felt odd to me. Most of my scenes consisted of interacting with John for brief seconds and introducing each singer or musician's number before they performed on stage. What a weird movie. Musicals were not my thing. Thank god I didn’t sing in this one because my singing voice is atrocious. I already tried singing for the film Thank Your Lucky Stars and didn't feel like doing that again.
We only had the scenes left that needed to be filmed on the Warner Studios. Today, we decided to start with the ending line, since it was only a closeup of me saying a phrase.
When I arrived early this morning, another bouquet of red roses was waiting for me. No card with them again. I had lost count of how many I had received so far, but it seemed every time I was in the Studios there would be flowers waiting for me.
I had asked my closest friends if they sent them but all of them denied it which left me dumbfounded about who was behind it. Who could be my secret admirer? As I smoked my cigarette in front of my vanity in my dressing room, I was still wondering about it. At first it was flattering but now it was getting annoying.
The makeup artist and the hairdresser were making miracles, turning my bare face and wild hair into something that would work for the filming. I had dark circles under my big eyes, and my hair was pretty tangled, not soft at all.
What women had to go through to be on screen , I thought to myself. I knew I wasn’t pretty, my face didn’t give me the stardom I had acquired but my talent and explosive personality did. I wonder what it would be like to be those beautiful actresses, just for a moment in their shoes. But at the same time, I wouldn't trade my talent for anything. Not even for a pretty face.
“Have any of you seen who leaves me these flowers?” I asked them both as I stared at my sleepy face in the mirror.
“No, Miss Davis” The makeup artist answered, and Harry combing my hair didn't know as well. “You still haven’t figured out who it is?”
“No and it's getting quite old at this point. Whoever it is, I just hope they drop it…” I inhaled the nicotine then exhaled it in front of me when the girl was looking for the mascara to put on my long lashes.
Twenty minutes later I was on the set, greeting the director Delmer Daves. “Good morning Bette, looking marvelous aren’t we?”
“For sure, this is the face that launched a thousand ships, ain’t it?” I joked on my behalf, making us both giggle.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, you look splendid!” He patted my shoulder and I smiled halfheartedly. “So, we are going to shoot the close up now, so stand here…” He had marked a spot with chalk, behind me there was a black background.
I stood where he told me to. “Now you will look straight at the camera, like you’re saying goodbye to a brother who's going overseas…” I nodded, I knew I had to be tender in the message, which could be easy or extremely hard depending on the day.
“Ready?” He asked me and I nodded once again. “Rolling and… Action!” Delmer announced.
I took a deep breath and I tried to channel the feeling that the director told me to. “ You’ve given us something we’ll never forget …”
Then, just when I had to say the last sentence, I got distracted. A poodle with a big white bow on her head walked on the set. “ W-wherever you go …” I cringed at myself, getting frustrated immediately, closing my eyes. “Dang it!”
“That’s okay Bette, let’s try it again…” Delmer said calmly. I was trying to focus my gaze on him and on the camera because I knew if I would look at Joan, I would get even more irritated. “Rolling and… Action!”
I breathed in, trying to convey the sentiments. “ You’ve given us something we’ll never forget… Wherever you go, our hearts go with you .”
“And cut! It was good, Bette, but…” I saw him doubt, looking at the floor for a second to find the explanation. “Needs more uh… touch…”
“Alright, again then.” I said to him, being kind to him but mad at myself for not delivering such a short line correctly. Then I said to myself show that dainty and fastidious woman who Bette Davis really is . A class in acting for her, for free.
“Ready!” I said determined, as I stared into the camera. Dalmer seemed to smile, I saw it in the corner of my eyes.
“Rolling and… Action!”
I used my eyes, making them tear up a bit and my brows lifted up to accentuate the heartfelt ending. “ You’ve given us something we’ll never forget… Wherever you go, our hearts go with you .” My voice said those words with the most tender feeling I could invoke in the moment.
“And cut! Perfect Bette!” I smiled to myself, dabbing the corner of my eyes, not letting the tears ruin my makeup. “Before we continue, let the makeup artist fix it…” The director said.
“Sure…” I mumbled, but I wasn’t going to do that just yet. My eyes found the woman who had entered just a few moments ago. She was drinking coffee beside the snack table.
Joan was talking to Joan Leslie. I approached both of them. “Good morning ladies…”
“Good morning Bette” Miss Leslie said kindly, smiling at me slightly.
“Good morning darling…” Joan said, her eyes lighting up and with a warm tone in her voice that only I could have detected. Anyone else would have thought we were good friends. She was wearing a tailored striped dress that reached above her knees. It was no surprise her entire look was perfectly done. Her hair and makeup looked like she was about to film a scene right now. But I knew it wasn’t her time yet.
“Joan, would you give us a moment?” I asked the young actress and she quickly agreed.
“Sure… Miss Davis, Miss Crawford… I’ll see you around!” She gave us a respectful smile. I know she admired me, and I guess … Joan as well.
Once the girl was gone, I faced the poodle. “What are you doing here? You have no scenes to film today!” I muttered, a tad annoyed as my right hand landed on my hip.
“Well, I appear in this movie as well, I don’t see why I cannot be here…” She tilted her head and smiled at me, showing me her pearly white teeth. She then drank her coffee like she was a lady in Buckingham Palace. Her deep blue eyes then looked up at me.
“I see what you’re trying to do…” I squinted my eyes, looking for a cigarette in my pocket. Lighting it up as fast as I could, my hands trembling for a second when I used the lighter. I exhaled the smoke on my side, brusquely.
“What am I trying to do darling?” She left the cup on the table then stared at me again. La Belle seemed too amused for my liking.
“You’re trying to bother me, and I warned you…” I pointed at her, impolitely and unladylike of me.
“I didn’t know that getting a coffee here could ruin your work…” She stared without blinking, her deep blue eyes wide in glee. She was teasing. How exasperating.
“I- Well… It has!” I answered as fast as I could, making me stumble my words. I shook my cigarette to my side, fastidiously.
“But I just saw how you delivered that line perfectly…” She explained, so calmly as she pointed towards the set, giving a look to where the camera was.
“Yes, but I made a mistake. It took me three takes!” I used my fingers to accentuate what I was saying. Sometimes it was inconvenient how the theatrics in me wouldn't go away that easily.
“Oh Bette, you’re not going to tell me that the great Davis had a mistake because I was in the room… That’s a poor excuse and you know it” She raised a brow, with a tint of shrewdness to her smile.
“It’s true!” Me and my mouth, I couldn't shut it up. Sometimes I answer too quickly, without thinking. What was with me today? She was winning this battle.
“I wonder why…” I didn’t like that. The tone that she used sounded so conspiratorial.
“What?” My gaze squinted again, frowning in confusion.
“Nothing, have a wonderful day… Honey …”She squeezed my arm, feeling her soft touch over my shirt. Before she passed beside me, she got closer to me, our shoulders almost touching on the sides. She thinks she can be intimidating, ridiculous . She gave me a look that was hard to describe. It lasted a few seconds but the intensity of it left me with no air. I wouldn't back down, I could also give threatening looks. She looked like an eagle that was ready to catch its prey.
Her perfume stayed with me after she left and I remembered she had called me honey . I sighed angrily, disgusted as I crushed my cigarette in the nearest ashtray. Ugh, why did she have to be like that with me? Wasn’t she already satisfied with making me mad?
I tried to brush the encounter off as I continued my day’s schedule. The rest of the morning and part of the early afternoon, we shot the scenes with John, Joan Leslie and Robert Hutton. Miss Leslie was Mr. Hutton’s love interest in the movie, so John and I didn’t have that many lines. The filming that day finally finished, and the results were… Good, I guess.
I would have been lying if I said that I didn’t think about what Joan said to me for the rest of the day.
***
A new week was starting and so was my shift at the real Canteen. It has been a strange experience filming the movie. Once you’re on board in a project, you just hope to make the best of it. It is what it is and I had to put the film on my shoulders and just keep going.
As I arrived at the canteen, John was cleaning the bar and arranging some of the stools that were out of place.
“Hello, fellas” I waved at some boys who were already drinking at one of the tables.
“Good afternoon, Miss Davis” They waved back, seeming full of glee at seeing me there.
“And hello to you too” I said, smiling as I approached John and patted him on the shoulder.
“Hi Bette! How has your weekend been? Have you had some good days of rest?” He asked me back with a serene smile.
“You could say that. I spent the whole weekend going through Arthur’s last belongings, trying to guess what to do with it all” I explained before leaving my bag in the staff room and coming back out.
“Maybe you could…” John started saying til we heard the noise of the door opening.
“Hello boys!” A deep voice that could only belong to Joan fucking Crawford. She was wearing a flowy blue skirt and an oversized white blouse with some flowers embroidered on it. As expected, she was the definition of fresh and beautiful. “Hi Bette, John” She greeted as she nodded to both of us with the brightest smile. Then I saw her approaching us and I directed my hand towards John’s arm so I could grip it and not actually push Joan away from me.
She delivered a kiss on each of our cheeks before making her way to the staff room. Ugh, now I had to clean myself with rubbing alcohol, the waxy texture of her lipstick not coming off with just the scrubbing gesture of my fingers against my cheek. What is she doing here today? I asked myself as I looked for a napkin under the bar. Then, I turned around to look at John, pointing to the calendar behind him. The week was starting and at that point it clicked.
“Please tell me that today is not Monday and that this is just a nightmare” I asked John as I strengthened my grip on his arm, the other one on my face, covering my eyes. How could I forget ? Joan has been here religiously every Monday since her first day. I, on the other hand, avoided being here on those particular days. And you guessed it, religiously too.
“Bette, today is not Monday and this is just a nightmare” He mumbled with a stone cold face, you could see that he was holding back a laugh.
“Goddammit!” I said, hitting the top of the bar with my whole palm.
“Just ignore her, Bette. It’s only for a few hours” John said dismissing the whole ordeal and I, for once, decided to do just that.
It went well. She was taking orders, talking and laughing around. Luckily, since she talked with everyone it seemed to keep her far away from me. She also kept the soldiers happy who were making her laugh, so in the end it was a win-win situation for all of us.
It went smoothly for a few hours, but the more drinks flew around the serviceman, the air got thicker and thicker. At one point, I was drying the plates and glasses that John had just washed because there was so much to do and I was barely paying attention to what was happening around us.
“Please, take your hand away from there” I heard Joan say, sounding stern. Something must have been happening for her to sound like that, especially after being ecstatic the entire night so I decided to take a look. One of the soldiers, at the closest table to the bar, had his hand on her waist, squeezing her. The others were not paying attention, one of them was telling a joke and they were all laughing so hard that they barely heard Joan.
The soldier then grabbed her with both of his hands and was trying to bring her closer to him. “Get off of me” Joan gritted through her teeth, in a threatening way. But he was not letting go. That’s when I knew I had to do something, so I walked over there and patted the boy’s back strongly.
“How about we let the lady go? She has been asking for you to get your filthy hands off her and yet you are still grabbing her like she is a piece of meat. So I suggest you let her go or I will personally show you your way out of the establishment” I said calmly, with my hands on my hips, standing intimidatingly. Serious enough that he knew not to mess with me.
“What’s the matter, Miss. Davis?” One of the other boys asked, who was not paying attention.
“Your friend here doesn’t know how to respect a woman it seems” I pointed at the soldier that was letting go of Joan.
“Bobby, what are you doing, pal? That is Joan Crawford! Don't you know how to treat a lady?!” Another one said and grabbed Bobby by the shoulders strongly, he looked mortified for his friend’s behavior. “Sorry, ladies, he seems to have drunk more than he should. But he is going to apologize, aren’t you, Bobby?” He asked desperately, trying to make eye contact with his friend.
Bobby nodded and in a slurred tone he asked Joan to forgive him. Joan looked at him disgusted but tried to cover her reaction. “It’s okay but this must never happen again” She said, her face invoking the grand actress in her to pretend calmness.
“We promise you it will never happen again, Miss Crawford” The one still grabbing Bobby’s shoulders answered and nodded as he would keep the promise. He was feeling so sorry for his friend's behavior, that I felt for him for a second.
“I hope so,” Joan said, her smile too stretched to be genuine, nodding and then looking elsewhere as she started walking away. I nodded too and before I followed her to the staff room, I saw at the corner of my eye that those soldiers had left the canteen. I figured they had felt too embarrassed to stay any longer.
I found her in the restrooms, washing her hands, scrubbing strongly. “Are you okay?” I asked her, just because I wanted to make sure she was fine. I mean, it’s not like I cared, but this is my bar after all and I should know that the people that work here are doing fine.
“Oh, I didn’t see you follow me, I’m sorry. Yes, I’m okay” She responded to me with a small and pained smile as she dried her hands with the towel beside the sink.
“Good” I said brusquely and turned around to return to the bar.
“Wait, Bette” Joan said, her hand making contact with mine for a short second. “Thank you, for what you did for me out there” She pointed with her head, her curls moving along. This time her eyes felt like they were penetrating my soul, she sounded genuinely thankful. Her gaze, even if still clouded, seemed a little bit more alive now.
“You are welcome” I said, not understanding how we ended up in this situation. A small part of me felt glad that I helped her, but the biggest part didn’t want her to believe I cared about her, because I don’t. I don’t care even a little bit about Joan Crawford. So I did what I do best, I treated her like she was anyone else. “There is no need to thank me. I think I would have done that for anyone else too” I ended my answer with a sharp nod and turned around. I noticed the confusion and intrigue in her eyes before I left the room.
I didn’t want to let her believe that she has actually earned everyone’s heart, because she didn’t. Mine was pretty well hidden and she was not about to win it. She couldn’t even if she wanted to.
Notes:
We decided to paste the pictures here. If it bothers you to read let us know and we'll take them down. As always thanks Steph for editing! <3
Thank you for all the comments and kudos <3
Chapter 4: Hollywood Canteen Pt 2
Summary:
“Oh, so you came here to see me?” Joan was behind me, startling me for a second, but I concealed that while trying not to flinch.
I turned around, a sly smile appearing on my lips. “See you? I was here to watch my friends…” I said nonchalantly, as I blinked quickly.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
July 1944:
I was dreading the moment she would set foot on the set, but as luck would have it, she arrived on the eighth day of filming. Her part was short and thank god for that because I wouldn’t have known what to do if I had to spend even more time with her going around the set and flirting with every person that worked there. It was not fair that I had to see her for even that much of time, it was a nightmare.
Everyone spoke marvelously about her, clearly they didn’t know her that well. How couldn’t they see how annoying she was, how she was just trying to buy their love with her pretty face and some compliments. The makeup artist talked about how beautiful her face was to paint, the photographers said that she was very easy to work with because she was beautiful in just any pose, and the producers admired how she was always so punctual. I can agree with the fact that she was a professional, but damn she was irritating. If I had to listen to one more person say how lovely she was I probably would have killed them.
Maybe I was overreacting but what can I say, I’m not an easy woman.
That day, I had decided to stay in my dressing room reading a script that I already got for The Corn is Green . Mr. Skeffington was just out in the cinemas and I was already working on a new film; at the same time we were doing the Canteen project. Being this busy was good for me, I didn’t have that many moments to stop to think. I was always doing something and had somewhere to go. I knew in the future I might not be so lucky… And I didn’t even want to think about that just yet.
As I read the pages of the script, I kept getting distracted. I couldn't concentrate at all. I knew I was being too curious about what was happening on the set. No, you better stay here .
I grabbed a cigarette and as I tried to light it up I realized that my lighter wasn't working. I sighed, irritated as I rubbed my temple. Luckily I had my trusty matches, using the edge of my vanity to light one. I finally had my nicotine and was feeling more at ease.
I held a pencil that I couldn't stop moving it around my fingers nor could I keep my legs calm under the vanity. I felt anxious and restless. The small room suddenly felt minuscule.
“Goddammit!” I exclaimed as I stood up, knowing that I couldn't stay in there any longer. I grabbed my sunglasses, stepped out of my dressing room, and headed to the filming spot. I had told myself I wouldn't go, but then again, I was a bag filled with contradictions.
(Bette's outfit)
I walked through the Studio with my usual non-feminine walk, cigarette on my fingers, and greeting those who said hi to me along the way. In a couple of minutes, I was walking on the set discreetly. I decided immediately to stay in the back to be unnoticed. I saw from afar that Dane Clark, Joan Leslie, Robert Hutton and Joan were in the scene. Along with them, there were some extras acting as other soldiers and dancing with unknown women.
Delmer Daves, the director, then said, “Once more, so we have a backup from the first one… ”
Once I realized they were starting everything back to zero, I decided to get closer. There weren't that many people behind the camera, so no one approached me as I stared at the scene.
“Rolling and action!” Mr. Daves announced and then right in front of my eyes, I saw something I would never admit to anyone but… It was pure magic on screen.
Everyone started to dance, except Dane and Joan, who had her back towards the camera “ What’s the matter pal? ”
“ I’m off women for the duration !” As soon as Dane said those words, she turned around. It was like a grand entrance, her charisma overflowing the set and her smile so charming that I thought it was a perfect fit for the moment. She was wearing a black shirt with big shoulder pads that had a white kitten stamped on it. Not only did the cat have a bow but she also had one added to her styled hair. To finish it off, she had a long tailored skirt that went past her knees.
“ Isn’t that an unfortunate attitude to have at the Hollywood Canteen ?” Joan said, using her classy demeanor.
“ Happens the way I feel, ma’am ” He didn’t even look at her, projecting disappointment as he crossed his arms.
“ Look, this is the last dance tonight. Should we have it together ?” She proposed.
“ Okay ” As they started to dance, Dane’s character avoided looking at Joan but ended up staring at her shirt.
“ What’s the kitten’s name ?”
“ We’ve tried very hard to find a name for it. Have you any suggestions ?” She was teasing him and without realizing it, I was smiling as I smoked the remaining of my cigarette.
“ How about …” He raised his stare, seeming thoughtful.
“ Yes ?” Then he looked at her, surprised.
“ Anybody ever tell you you look like Joan Crawford ?” Dane asked, sounding very naive.
“ Well, yes, my husband has ” She joked and I almost giggled. Dane laughed so fakely that I almost cringed. Joan looked at him with a raised brow and made it seem that she couldn't believe how he didn’t realize what was happening.
“ You dance good, light as a feather ” The script was subtle in this part, making a reference to her past as a dancer.
“ Thank you, ” She said.
He kept looking at her, mesmerized as he analyzed her face. “ You’re a dead-ringer for Joan Crawford''
“ Am I really ?” She was teasing again, asking in glee. I chuckled once again. They turned around as they danced.
Then, she got ever so close to his ear and she said, “ Don’t look now but I am Joan Crawford ” I don’t know what came over me, but I felt shivers on my skin, realizing I had been smiling the entire time. I swallowed.
“ You’re- Joan Craw- ” Dane pretended to be starstruck.
“ Yes ” Then he fainted, not believing who was in front of him.
“ Oh, somebody get some water. Quick, he’s fainted !” Joan exclaimed, alerting once she saw him on the floor. The extras then helped him to get on his feet and he looked at her, still filled with incredulity.
Dane pointed his finger towards her, like he had discovered a secret. “... Joan Crawford …” His voice was wobbly, showing his nervousness in front of the movie star. The extras laughed at the scene and then I heard, “Cut!”
Joan might have had only a minute on the screen but it was eye catching, funny, and simple. I could see that the audiences would enjoy this part. It was electric and exciting to see her doing a little snippet like this.
I turned around to look for an ashtray where I could crush my cigarette. As I expected, there was one on the table where the drinks and food were. Maybe I should leave before anyone catches me. Though, they might continue filming …
“Oh, so you came here to see me?” Joan was behind me, startling me for a second, but I concealed that while trying not to flinch.
I turned around, a sly smile appearing on my lips. “See you? I was here to watch my friends…” I said nonchalantly, as I blinked quickly.
“But, you weren’t here before to watch your friends, only when I was filming my scene.” Soon she was mirroring my grin.
My face cracked, realizing she was right. I didn’t think about that before. “Well, if you want to think you’re special enough for me to come here and watch only you… Then do it!”
“Oh, I believe it!” She seemed very happy with herself, her dimples prominent as she smiled proudly.
My jaw was tense. Why couldn't I get the upper hand on her? She always had a punchline ready to throw back at me. I guess this happens when one wildcat meets another. Both too strong, too intense. Two powerful women.
Normally I would put my rivals in their place with no difficulty but with her it wasn’t that easy. I was trying to tame her and it was a hard task. She was winning every time and it irked me.
I sighed, my nostrils exhaling in annoyance. Then she said to me, “I feel flattered though…” I noticed a softer tone in her voice, stepping forward. Suddenly, she got very close to me, taking me aback. “You know I’ve always had my eyes on you… For a long time…” Her blue eyes were now coquettish while mine were wide open in response to what was unfolding in front of me.
I knew what she was talking about… Now I remember.
***
It was 1935, the year that we met. It was at a party but I don’t remember who hosted it. Franchot, my co-star at the time, introduced her to me. It was overwhelming, to say the least. The man I loved, happily showing me his girlfriend. Not just any girlfriend, but Joan Crawford.
It was an intense moment. She had a presence like no other and her beauty intimidated me. The screen didn’t do her any justice to how immaculate her face was in person. It looked like it was made out of porcelain. She seemed to be so delighted to see me, greeting me kindly and I didn’t know what to do with myself. I was only able to say shyly ‘ Nice to meet you ’ and almost immediately ran away after.
I remember I walked around trying to avoid the pair, since I knew it was hurting my pathetic heart. It was probably the first time I had an unrequited love.
At one point during the night, I went to the ladies restrooms. Back then I used to wear more lipstick than I do now and I was trying to fix it in the mirror. My glass of brandy had smudged it, since I’ve always been pretty careless while drinking. I sighed as I looked at my own reflection. What a pitiful image.
As I reapplied the lipstick, I saw in the corner of my eye that someone had walked in. Soon, she was standing beside me. “This is a lovely party…” She commented, reaching for something in her purse. It was makeup to powder her nose.
“Yeah, it is…” I mumbled kindly, but not believing my own words. I was having a terrible time. I enjoyed these kinds of gatherings but there was nothing else on my mind but him and how he gripped her by the waist the entire night.
“You know, I was so excited to meet you tonight… I’m a fan of your work…” I was so shocked to hear that from someone like her, closing my lipstick with the lid.
“Really?” I was a young and very impressionable girl back then, not knowing how to read between the lines. I was thrilled on the inside by her admiration.
“Of course, I wouldn't lie about something like that…” She then gazed at me with a conceited smile, that I didn’t give that much importance, at first.
“Thank you, Miss. Crawford” I responded well-mannered, being respectful. That was at least one thing that I could take from this awful evening. I sighed as I placed my lipstick in my purse, ready to leave the room.
“Darling!” She stopped me, grabbing me by the wrist, turning me around to face her. “Let me fix it for you…” Joan mumbled as she took a tissue, and gently swiped at the edge of my lips.
Her ocean eyes, deep blue as the Pacific, stared intensely at my mouth as she did that. So much so that it felt like more than just some thoughtful help. “You look so blue, I wish I could help you with that…” She deepened her voice, making it too intimate.
My big eyes opened as wide as they could as I flinched backwards when I realized her true intentions. A woman had never flirted with me before so it was natural for me to be stunned, to say the least.
I felt weird, strange, and out of place but for her, it was just like any other day. Overflowing with confidence and with a presence that knew how to deal with it. Or not?
Sometimes, when you encounter a situation that you have never been in before, that shocks you, the reaction can be unexpected. Unplanned. And that’s just what happened to me. I suddenly started to laugh, loud and clear. Cackling in front of her, with my eyes closed.
When I looked back at her, my laughter subsiding in time, she stared at me petrified. She seemed mortified. Did she really mean it ? “That was a good joke!” I said, still giggling.
“That’s so rude of you!” She said, her eyebrows up, clearly shocked and embarrassed. She now looked so small, her confidence just being a fake curtain to disguise herself. Something she might pull up for a moment to seduce someone. But it didn’t work on me.
“You must be joking. How could you possibly think this was a good idea? You really thought I would be interested in you like that ?!” She still looked like she had seen a spider, almost pouting in fear. I had definitely dropped my politeness, it flew out of the window.
“I’m not interested in women, I’ll never be, and if I was… It would never be you !” I knew I could be vile with my words and this time I didn’t control myself. I was so bitter because she had the man that I loved, the man who should be with me. Not with her.
Just like that, I had decided to attack her without any mercy. I wanted to hurt her, like she was hurting me. She had him and then had the audacity to flirt with me. It was a petty thing for me to do but at the moment I didn’t think twice.
It seemed she couldn't take how I made fun of her anymore, storming away as I was having the last laugh. It actually didn’t make me feel better.
On the contrary, I felt miserable.
Who knew she would actually have the last laugh. The following week I would find out in the papers that she and Franchot had gotten engaged. She could have slapped me and it would have hurt less than that.
***
Joan’s blue eyes were staring at me, like a cobra who was trying to hypnotize their catch. I then realized something else. Something I was too stupid enough to find out earlier.
I was aware of our surroundings and this was something I couldn't talk about there. “Follow me” I said discreetly, before I left the set.
I knew the Studios like the back of my hand since this has been my home for the past twelve years. I turned around to an alley just outside of the Stage 5 building. There were a few barrels piled up from past western movies. I went behind them then made sure Joan was following me. I knew no one would be able to see us there.
As soon as she arrived, she was about to say something but I didn’t let her. “Are you the one who is sending me those flowers?” I questioned, spleenful.
It was Joan’s turn this time to laugh, enjoying this way too much. I was aware that her exaggerated giggle could expose us. I didn’t want anyone to see us like this and she noticed. “Are you worried? That someone could see us?”
“Cut it, and tell me the truth!” I demanded firmly.
“Of course I sent them. Did you like them dear?” She was now the one who acted nonchalantly.
“No, I don’t like them! I don’t know how you possibly thought it was a good idea” Somehow that phrase I just muttered sounded familiar but at the same time it didn’t.
“Oh, that’s just unfortunate.” She sounded disappointed, obviously faking. Teasing me again, mercilessly. “And I did it just thinking of you!” Her eyes were laughing at me, hinting at how much fun she was having.
“You don’t have to do anything for me!” I immediately made sure to make myself clear.
“You’re no fun sometimes…” She sighed, crossing her arms in front of her. “And I still don’t know why you dislike me this much…” For a moment she seemed to be acting like she was still shooting for Susan and God .
“Seriously? You don’t know?” I asked perplexed with my expressive stare and eyebrows up. She shook her head gently, denying it. “Pretty simple. Franchot Tone”
“What about him?” Her big eyebrows, frowned.
“You knew I was in love with him, and you purposely took him away from me, marrying him! This is no news!” I explained with no patience, feeling absurd I had to do it in the first place.
“Took him away? Let me remind you he was my boyfriend. You were the one who wanted to take away someone’s boyfriend!” She almost seemed at the edge of bursting out laughing, and I took the punch. She was right but I still was offended.
“Like you actually loved him!” I said, accusingly.
“At one point I did. But I find it amusing how you think I married him because you loved him…” Her fingers caressed her own chin as she analyzed me with her stare. She was trying to be mysterious but I wasn't having it.
“It wasn’t like that?” I questioned, my curiosity creeping into my voice.
“Oh you poor darling, I married him because you rejected me” Her smile was proud as she told me her intentions from the past. “You were so rude to me at the party. You really hurt me that night you know…” As she explained to me, she used this flirty but innocent tone in her voice that was irritating me.
“What?” I couldn't believe a word of her reasons. She had now changed the entire perspective on the matter.
“It’s true. I know it might have been something petty to have done on my own behalf but I thought it was only fair…” She looked down for a moment then raised them to meet my gaze. Her foxy eyes were too perilous.
“You’re insane” I stated, in awe of our conversation.
“Oh so you’re the sane one? Let me remind you that you were with other women's husbands as well…” That was cold and raw, but very true. I got a taste of my own medicine. “And let me tell you that I did you a favor. Believe me, Franchot was no angel. He turned out to be like every other man. A cheating bastard and quite the heavy drinker because I wasn’t able to bear him a child…” She laid that off like it was nothing, like she was talking about the weather.
“Oh so you were deciding for me…” I said with a tint of irony in my own voice.
“Bette, I’m just telling you how it is. I can’t believe after all of these years, you still hold a grudge about it. Both of us even remarried!” Joan then bursted into giggles. I let her have her own triumphal moment.
“That’s the way I am. If you don’t like it, you can gladly stay away from me!” I exclaimed roughly, my hoarse voice now appearing.
“Oh but my darling dear, I do love getting on your nerves” She shook her head, as those big expressive eyes were looking at me like I was a stubborn cause.
“I knew you were doing this to upset me!” I raised a brow and tensed myself, ready to attack her with my words.
“No darling, it’s not to upset you. It’s to…” She took a pause to change her demeanor, now staring at me in a seductive manner. “...Provoke you…” She got so close to me again, but this time she invaded my personal space. “...In a way that you have never experienced before…” Fleetingly, she gazed provocatively at my lips then met my clear eyes. Our bodies were almost making contact. That bewitching gaze was dangerous. I felt my ears turning red.
I held my breathing, freezing on the spot. Suddenly, I felt some dizziness and blamed it on the summer heat. Her vampiresque presence was now too intimidating. Bette Davis was actually feeling intimidated. How comical, but I didn’t feel like laughing.
Her delicate and soft hands, that had nails painted red, caressed me for a brief second across my left cheek like a nymph. Her lips got very close to my mouth for a moment as she whispered deeply, “I know you like it”
And just like that, like after a bee sting, she was out of sight. Leaving me on my own, feeling that I was too affected thanks to her antics. I grunted irritatedly in my spot. I took off my sunglasses to cover my face in frustration.
This was not me, this was not the woman I was supposed to be. I shouldn't care one bit about what she did. Why can’t I distance myself from her ? This was ridiculous and it didn't make any sense. Was I looking for excitement that I was lacking lately ?
I cannot be serious, I shouldn't let her get to me like this. You can’t let her win in this absurd game that she is playing . How weak had I become to let that woman get to me like this. I had to stop it.
That will prove to be easier said than done.
Notes:
I had so much fun writing this chapter, I hope y'all did too while reading it! Thank you for the kudos, sharing the fic and commenting! Special thanks to Steph for editing this! <3
Chapter 5: The Premiere
Summary:
Why did my own self betray me like this? Why couldn't I just hate her with all my being?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
October 1944:
The filming of the Hollywood Canteen ended that next week, thankfully. And after that, everything kept going like normal. Although I had changed my routine and all of it had an objective: Avoid Joan Crawford. I wouldn't ever go to the Canteen on Mondays, I would have prefered to die before going on that certain day. I also stopped on going to the Studios, unless it was something urgent. I prefered to stay at home to learn the new script.
Our last encounter was too risky, too dangerous for my liking. She was a dagger that I should stay away from, as far as I could from her before she would cut me. She would drive me nuts at any moment, and not in a good way. I just knew it.
On a good note, after Mr. Skeffington premiered, I couldn't have been any happier at the outcome. All I could hear were praises of my performance in it. The critics were filled with compliments, hinting that I might get nominated or even win another Oscar. Oh, how I wished that would actually happen .
Later another big script was offered for me: Mildred Pierce . But I had to turn it down. Not because it was a weak story, or undeserving of my casting but… I had to play a mother of two, and one of them was a teenager. I didn’t want to look older, and it seemed the others that turned down the role thought the same thing. The one that actually took the part was none other than La Belle Crawford. She seemed to be willing to take the risk, but I knew she was desperate to get a good role like this.
What was kind of amusing was the fact that the director made her do a screen test, humiliating her. It seemed he didn’t want to work with her at all, but, at the end of the day he was persuaded to take her on as his heroine for the film. The result of such a concoction was yet an enigma.
Just like that, time went by so fast. Fast enough that I couldn't believe we were on the pre-premiere day of Hollywood Canteen . As usual, this event was only for the people who only participated in the movie, and probably a few lucky soldiers that had enlisted themselves to be considered to participate on that night - since the movie would be out for the public a couple of months later. After that, we would have a party at the Canteen with the whole crew.
In contrast to other movie’s releases, this one should be austere, and we had to be the example of that. We were in war times, and to flaunt glamor could be seen inappropriate in delicate moments like this. That was going to be hard labor for the miss-glamor-falsies girl. I smiled at myself as I dressed up, then it struck me that I was smiling thinking of her, and I brushed it off; putting on my pencil skirt in a rush, mad at myself. Later the jacket, matching the gray polkadot outfit.
(Bette's outfit)
Lastly I grabbed a pair of black gloves and a handbag of the same color. A big hat tied up the entire look. After that, I left my Beverly Hills home, and went to the premiere.
At the cinema, I sat next to John to watch the movie. I had a great time with him, even though I didn’t like the final result of what I was witnessing on the screen. I was always so critical of myself and everything that I did that I could do nothing but think how weak the film was. I didn’t even want to imagine what the critics were going to write. After all, a lot of the cheesy ideas were Warner’s.
I had some applause when I appeared, and guess who… Yes, her too. But I couldn't blame them, it was one of the best bits, but I wouldn't admit that outloud.
“ Don’t look now but I am Joan Crawford ” On that big screen I saw her expressive eyes, her overdrawn lips, her extravagant blouse, her false lashes, and yet… I couldn't say she was anything other than… The most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life. She left me starstruck on my seat, noticing how her freckles showed through on her eyelids. I had to repress a smile as I thought: You forgot to conceal them, Joan .
Why did my own self betray me like this? Why couldn't I just hate her with all my being? It annoyed me to the core, the mere fact that I would smile because of her but only when she wasn’t watching. It irked me that she could have any influence on me.
I partially covered my face, supporting my forehead on my fingers as they rubbed on my skin so harshly in frustration. How can I stop this ?
“Bette, are you alright?” John must have seen me so worried beside him and I was almost startled by his voice. So far I had felt I was on my own while I was watching the screen.
“Yeah, I’m okay” I whispered in his ear so I wouldn't annoy the audience, talking in the middle of the projection.
The rest of the movie passed by, in a daze. I wasn’t even paying attention at all. Not like the plot needed it, it was too basic for my liking. What a bland film.
When I least expected, we were at the Canteen, to celebrate the premiere between all the cast, and obviously a few servicemen. I was received with clapping, smiles, hollering and congratulations from so many people that I was overwhelmed. But I didn’t forget to smile at them, greet the ones that came to me and gave me the most encouraging words. It made everything worth it, making me forget the movie performance altogether.
Soon, drinks were passing by, the band started to play and the party started. The Canteen was overflowing with joy. It was so alive that it almost moved me to tears, yes, even I felt like crying.
So much effort, work and sacrifices went into this project that I was more than grateful for being able to carry it on. Also to have by my side people like John and Jules in this, made me feel lucky.
An hour after the party started, Jules asked me to dance, and I agreed. I had spent the entire time making sure everything was going alright that I needed a break. The song “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy” by the Andrew Sisters that we were dancing to was pretty joyous. I was having so much fun as we swayed together.
As we moved with the rhythm, I saw her, my smile fading away. But not because I was mad, but rather surprised. I hadn’t seen her until then, dancing with her husband, Philip Terry.
She looked radiant with her white tailored dress, gloves, purse and heels that matched the outfit. Her hair was beautifully styled, with a white small hat that had ostrich feathers on it. I knew she was dressed simply for her liking but she still looked classy.
(Joan's outfit)
As she danced with her handsome husband, she seemed to be floating on the dancefloor, smiling brightly as she always would in public. Of course, she was a hell of a dancer, you could even notice it even in the small movements of her hands, her feet making it seem like it was effortless.
I held my breath for a second when our gaze met as we danced with those men, turning and swirling around. Her smile was gentle now, slowly turning into a foxy one. It was like she had hit the jackpot.
It'd been a long time since I’d seen her... Since that day of filming and her gentle hands going over my face. I could even feel them then if I closed my eyes.
It's been like that because I had wanted it to. I had tried to avoid her as much as I could. And I had succeeded. But in events like this it was almost impossible to get away.
Still, even though time had passed, that didn't make a difference when I saw her again. I felt inside of me that weird sensation again , that I couldn't pinpoint. Our clear eyes couldn't stop staring at each other as we swayed on that dance floor. Like two magnets. And I tried, I did try to look somewhere else. But every damn time they would fall on her again and she would catch me staring. She would always put that smile on her face… That satisfied one, proud and so full of herself. Oh, I just hated it. Completely hated this.
Then the song ended and The Andrews Sisters took a break, replacing them for a band.
God, I needed a drink. "Jules, would you excuse me for a moment?" I asked him, as we stopped our movements.
"Sure, Bette" The man smiled kindly to me, a true gentleman as he always was.
I made my way towards the bar and ordered a scotch. As I waited for it I listened to some familiar voices near me, and of course, since I’m so lucky, it was Barbara Stanwyck and Miss Crawfish. Just a few feet away from where I was standing. The latter one looked at me as she carefully fixed one strand of Barbara’s hair with an entertained grin towards me. My jaw tensed, as I exhaled loudly, with my drink at hand. It bothered me extremely that she could provoke me so easily to the point where I felt completely overwhelmed.
I promised John that I would behave, so I tried to act like everything was alright, and as soon as I could, I got away. I walked through the crowd, dizzy and confused; I sensed an unpleasant feeling rising inside of me. I wanted to flee from that confined place. The walls felt like they were getting smaller and smaller.
I went to the back of the establishment, not making eye contact with anyone, avoiding every single person that I would pass by on my way. Finally I reached the dark back alley. Where I would find myself so many times when I needed a smoke break on my own.
I didn't realize I was heaving, the fog coming out from my mouth since it had gotten cold outside. Desperately, I searched for my cigarettes and my lighter, urgent to feel that nicotine. I inhaled it, gladly.
The smoke came out from my lips as I closed my eyes, trying to find some calmness. I was feeling better, way better.
I don't know what had happened there, but it had been like a sudden panic that had raised in me, making me feel I was about to vomit. Yet here I was, that feeling fading away instantly when my skin felt the cold air and my lips found the sweet cigarette.
I could hear the muffled sound of the band playing but hearing it from here, made me feel more serene. Everything 's alright, isn’t it ?
Even though I tried to conceal it, I knew there was something irking inside of me. That feeling that I knew something was going on but I didn't want to address it, because that would make it even more real. And that frightened me. Yes, it turns out sometimes I'm afraid, although I am always trying to show off how tough I am, that I am made of steel, and that there's nothing that could faze me.
Not being able to know myself, to know what was wrong, what was going on in me terrified me and annoyed me to the depths of my being. Things are black and white for me, there's no gray. Any possibility of falling into the gray area would make me restless. And only it would stop that madness until I was able to reach something certain.
Doubts were dangerous, they could turn a person insane, would keep you awake at night and I was not welcoming of that. I couldn't handle it. I was falling into this gray situation and I was desperate to get out of it before it was too late, before I wouldn't be able to find an answer of what was going on with me.
The sound of the back door opening startled me, and the light bulb over the door illuminated those ostrich feathers on her head. Not now, why is she here ?
She spotted me, as I stood frozen in my place. I was in the back, trying to find refuge in the darkness. I swallowed as I watched her approaching me, walking without a rush, swaying her hips with a serene smile on her overdrawn lips.
When she stood in front of me, she raised her manicured fingers that held a cigarette. "Got fire?" She asked, her tone in her voice was pretty low, but distinctive. I knew she was trying to put up her seductress persona.
I grabbed my lighter from my pocket and I held it as I lit it up in front of her. She leaned in, putting the nicotine in her lips and inhaling to finally light it up. Her cheeks would hollow as they always did, and her eyes stared so intensely at me but I tried to avoid them. Concentrating on my task of holding that object.
She pursed her lips as she exhaled the smoke slowly in front of her. Her amused stare, still penetrating me. “You’re pale as paper… Are you alright?” she asked suddenly.
I raised my gaze, putting my lighter in my pocket again. “I’m alright, I just needed a smoke…” I looked down, staring at my cigarette that was lingering in my fingers, to then bring it again to my lips and take another puff.
Even when I tried to avoid her stare, her eyes still would feel like they were burning me. It was like she knew something, like she had the answer to something that I didn’t have. How irritating .
“Good.” She muttered. In the corner of my eye I saw how she also kept smoking.
I had to kill the awkward silence. “Why are you here?” I asked, trying to be hostile towards her.
“I was missing your pretty little face” My face turned to her, at the speed of the light, eyes wide by her bluntness. “Why are you looking at me like that? It's no secret I like you. But you have been a naughty girl Bette, avoiding me this much…”
“I avoided you because you can’t seem to understand in that little head of yours that I can’t even stand the sight of you” I huffed, but I knew the way I said that was weak, and that this would go the same way our other conversations had gone. I was terrified of what could happen next. I never knew what I was facing when we were alone.
“Oh my dear you can do better than that, but you still don’t convince me. You can convince the camera, my love , but not me. I see you, I see your eyes and what’s all underneath it… and you’re scared. But you wouldn't confess that to me would you?” My ears were turning red again, and Joan took a step forward and I knew I had to stop this. The alarms were turning in my head, panicking on the inside of what was happening.
I had to do something. And I did. “Me? Scared? HA!” Here we go, give her your best explosive Bette . “Who do you think I am? A stupid little tramp like you who would fall to any of your cheap tricks? Unlike you I have some decency, I have a name to live up to. You think you have class? You’re just a cheap prostitute who was lucky enough to get where you wanted to, and now you think you can have anyone that you want to?” This was getting out of hand, but when this started, I was unable to stop myself. Joan’s eyes were wide, starstruck in her spot, listening to my harsh rant. “Let me tell you, you can’t sleep with everyone you want to, maybe you can try with Warner. But not me. Perhaps you’ll be lucky enough and get a good role after that, because that’s the only way you could achieve any relevance since you don’t have any talent to back up that little fake crap that’s your persona. And for god's sake I HATE YOUR DISGUSTING RED ROSES!”
Damn. I was even surprised that it was me who said all of those cruel things to her. I was almost out of breath, since I didn’t stop for a second to control myself. But the damage was already done. And I realized way too late.
I wanted to get out of that doubt that had started to eat my brain, so urgently, that I tried to do it in the quickest and worst way possible. A desperate defense mechanism I had used in the past when I wanted to demoralize an opponent. Though this time, I wasn’t sure I actually meant those words.
Joan’s mouth was slightly opened in shock, slowly turning her face stone cold. I saw how her chest went up, like she was taking a deep breath, controlling herself. She then threw her cigarette on the floor, stomping it, even though she tried to conceal it, she did it with anger.
The tense silence was interrupted by her. “And to think I had admired you, that I looked up to you, but you just proved to me that you're just a bitter and arrogant woman.” I swallowed, not expecting her to say those sharp words. “I might not be as talented as you are, but I prefer that to being an unpleasant, haughty, egotistical, resentful, and spiteful woman like you are. A tramp? That was cute… Like I’ve never heard that one before…”
Just then she turned herself to leave, and as I was about to stop her, in front of us a bunch of guys and girls came out from that door. My eyes widened, quickly grabbing Joan’s wrist and hiding her with me behind a column. I didn’t want anyone to see us together. “What are you doing?” She whispered angrily, as she freed herself from my grip roughly.
“Oh god, I seriously can’t stand her…” One of the boys in that group spoke. Both of our attention now was grabbed by those young folks.
Another one talked. “Me neither, she was really thinking that she was the big shark out there, boasting about how great she is” My brows went up, wondering who they were talking about.
“And she has two Oscars, would you imagine if she had three?!” A woman said. All of them giggled. I felt like dying then. They were talking about me. I closed my eyes tightly.
“Unbearable! She believes she’s also a sergeant, giving orders to all of us like we are just a piece of meat.” I opened my eyes, feeling like this was going to be a painful conversation to hear. Why did Joan have to be by my side while this humiliating thing was happening?
“Well, she looks like one!” They all cackled. I just wanted to disappear. I avoided the actress' eyes on me.
“I think she looks like a truck driver actually!” I was looking straight, with no emotion on my face, just going through it on the inside.
“Aging like one too… She looks ten years older…” It was like I was put into a ring and those people were punching me with no mercy, tearing me down, until I could feel no more pain. I guess it was time for me to get some of my medicine again. Although I thought it was enough, I didn’t need any more of it.
Suddenly out of nowhere someone came, exclaiming the next. “Guys the Andrew Sisters are singing again!”
“Let’s go fellas, I wouldn't miss that for a smoke…” Thank god , it had ended. As soon as they had come, they were out again.
A shaky breath came out from my lips, feeling rigid as a stone. Cold on the inside like I had been under a blazing winter storm. I thought that it couldn't get any worse. It was like I had been thrown off a cliff to meet my terrible and cruel fate.
The silence between us was painful, and I couldn't possibly direct my eyes to her. The embarrassment was enough. But then, I saw in the corner of my eyes how she started to walk away, the sound of her heels filling the sepulchral silence. For a moment I thought she wouldn't say a thing but I was wrong, she turned herself before leaving. My ashamed eyes slowly dared to look at her. It was like her face had written all over: I told you so . “Don’t worry, you will never receive another rose from me…”
Great, it was just great. Once again she had won another battle, quite elegantly too. Not only that but I was humiliated in front of her. I watched her go, not swaying her hips, not turning once to look at me.
I took those punches, and I didn’t cry because I was a big girl, who can handle anything. Was I actually able to do that?
Notes:
Hello everyone! So far I haven't been able to explain why Bette uses her "La Belle" to refer Joan, but according to a producer in Whatever Happened to Baby Jane, that's how she used to call her. There's no other proof she used the name Lucille.
Thank you for reading, I would love to hear your thoughts! Special thanks to Dem, our new editor! <3
Chapter 6: Wardrobe Test
Summary:
It shouldn't matter, I would never apologize to no dainty and obnoxious movie star.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
October 1944:
A new day, a new shift at the canteen. Saturdays were always a packed day, and my head was still running wild from all the whisky I drank when I got home. The hangover could be seen from miles away with the dark circles under my eyes. I was not that much of a heavy drinker, but I felt like I needed it last night after the humiliation I went through.
John was already there when I arrived, as always. He is a responsible soul, getting here early almost every day. I enjoyed working with him, it’s nice to share this space with someone that is dedicated and doesn’t just come here to make a presence like other people we know.
The first hour was wild, there were so many people going around, asking for drinks, eating and shouting. The music was so loud that my brain felt like it was coming out of my skull. I layed against the bar and closed my eyes, massaging my temples. I still needed some sleep.
“I see you had a joyous night yesterday” John said as he approached me and stood next to me behind the bar.
“Shut up” I retorted and he laughed out loud. “Can you keep it down, it feels like my brain is dancing the Charleston inside my head”.
“All by itself?” John asked mockingly.
“Yes, all by itself like me” I answered, trying to make it funny but instead it sounded a little gloomy, I had betrayed myself and exposed my feelings.
“Oh I know that tone, what happened?” John asked as he grabbed two chairs from behind us so we could both sit in front of the other.
“Nothing that 's important” I answered, looking elsewhere, trying to get out of the situation.
“Stop being so difficult. It’s just me, no one is listening” He said almost like an old gossiping grandma, as he grabbed me softly by my shoulders and sat me in the chair. “Now, tell me what happened, it’s weird to see you like this”.
“Alright, alright… Well, I was outside of the Canteen smoking and a couple of the ‘ baby actors ’ came out of the venue and started talking shit about me” I rolled my eyes as I explained.
“And what did they do when they saw you were there? Oh this is going to be good!” John asked, expecting me to tell of a dramatic scene where I just talked the kids down to the ground.
“Nothing I was hiding with J…” I almost said her name but I shut up before I could finish.
“With who?” My friend questioned, smirking.
“No one” I said quickly, but I knew it was too late to even act up.
“Were you with Joan Crawford?” He asked out loud, not believing my ears.
“Oh shush” I beated him on his arm. “Yes, I was talking with her. How did you know?” I finally admitted, my brows furrowed in curiosity when I asked that last question.
“I saw her last night, following you to the alley…” Oh, that makes sense, I thought. “Only nice things I believe you said…” he teased, once again, laughing at my terrible luck.
“No, it was not nice. At all, actually” I looked elsewhere, avoiding his eyes, so he wouldn’t see my regretful face.
“What did you do?” John asked, his eyes burning into the side of my head.
“Why do you suppose I did something?” I asked in an angry voice, like he was accusing me of robbery.
“Why shouldn’t I?” John asked with one of his eyebrows raised and, well, he had a point. “Come on, Bette”.
“I just told her to her face how it is, she was getting on my nerves. And she was exaggerating about the whole thing. I only told her the truth, you know how she likes to pretend” I said, the defensive tone coming right out of my mouth without my permission.
“WHAT. DID. YOU. SAY. TO. HER?” John said in a stronger voice and punctuated every word, like he was asking a kid.
“She was messing with me and you know how I get when people don’t take me seriously…” I said looking him in the eye. John sighting out loud. “I may or may not have told her that she was a tramp that had no talent and had to rely on being a cheap prostitute to earn something… Nothing too serious” I finished, knowing deep down that it actually was serious.
“Oh Bette come on!” John said as he stood up from the chair, not being able to believe what he was hearing. “You actually think that’s not serious?!” he raised his voice and I knew I had a sermon coming. “I asked you to just ignore her and you do that?”.
“She followed me outside! It’s not my fault that she is so annoying and desperate for attention” I defended myself, rolling my eyes.
“Well it’s not hard to just leave or say something nice either” He retorted and I knew he was telling the truth.
“I know, I know…” I said, giving up on defending myself, knowing damn well I was the one that started that whole deal. “But it’s not like I can go back in time and shut up”.
“But you have to do something, because it’s only going to bring you more problems if you just let it go,” He said as he stood up and went to the bar where the soldiers were waiting to be served. “Apologize, Bette. That’s the best you can do” was the last thing he directed at me, before the new wave of servicemen ordered food and drinks. Damn it, I hate when he is right.
***
November 1944 :
It was Thursday and I was back in the Studios, since I had to do the wardrobe test for The Corn Is Green . I had to play a teacher in the 1890s, so the clothes I had to wear were pretty conservative and simple.
I was told that I didn’t need to be that early to my dressing room, and 8 a.m. was the assigned hour to start the test. When I arrived that morning, I was wearing simple tailored pants, a white shirt and a jacket. Sunglasses were hiding my sleepy eyes, and my distinctive walk, flashier than ever, was making its presence in the dressing room area. I arrived with a cigarette in hand, as I always did, and then froze in my spot before I could get into my private room. Her formidable appearance made its way over. “Miss Crawford, please cover yourself, you’ll get a cold!” I heard her assistant behind her, pleading to the movie star.
(Bette's outfit)
It wasn’t long until I understood that girl’s plea. Joan was wearing a two piece white bathing suit, in November. Her hair was styled to perfection, in an updo, with a bandana on it to hold it in its place. The outfit had white heels, and a jacket on top to cover her naked shoulders.
I don’t know what I expected to encounter that morning, but certainly it wasn’t that scene. My eyes followed her, and I gulped as she was just about to pass by me. What I didn’t expect were her eyes fleetingly looking at my side, only for her to then ignore me and enter her dressing room.
That was a first. I decided to brush it off, but when I got in my dressing room, there were no flowers waiting for me. Mary, the costume assistant, was already waiting for me, alongside Harry, the hairdresser.
“Good morning!” I greeted them, smiling slightly.
“Good morning Miss Davis!” Both of them replied with a kind tone.
“No roses this morning?” I asked, tring to seem unbothered, joking around.
“No roses for you Miss Davis. That 's strange!” Harry, who was very accustomed to my complaints about them, seemed to be also weirded out by that fact.
I raised an eyebrow, I guess she had sought to accomplish what she had told me last week in that dark alley. Not only that, but she had pretended that I didn’t even exist just moments ago. Something she wouldn't ever do to anyone at the Studios.
Well, I deserved that, after all of the awful things I said to her. But that was something I had to keep out of my mind, I had work to do. “Well-Uh let’s start!” And just like that I had started to try on the hairstyles for the film, and later tested how the dresses fit me.
A picture of me in every outfit had to be taken beside a board. It would have the date, the name of the movie, the scene which the outfit belonged to, and obviously the name of the actress. It was a long and meticulous job that we had to carry out for every film.
(The Corn Is Green Wardrobe Test)
I was used to it at this point, but today it felt like a burden. “You guys are also doing another test?” I heard Mary, who was standing near the photographer, as she talked to another girl that was on the set.
“Yes, for Mildred Pierce. Miss Crawford is changing now for another shot” Oh, that explained her bathing suit situation. Who cares , I told myself. In the back of my head though, I felt ashamed of myself for what I had done, how I had treated her and other people thanks to my irritating temper. I was pretty self aware now, being more conscious than ever of how I behaved.
Not like I was going to become a loving nun, but I knew I had to tone down my attitude. That meant I had to apologize to her, and that was going to be a pretty hard task to do… Maybe impossible for me. I was never a person who would apologize, unless it was something out of the norm, something that I was truly guilty of. Unfortunately, this time I was really guilty.
At the end of the afternoon we managed to finish the wardrobe test. Soon Mary and Harry were gone. I was back in my regular clothes, and I decided to stay a little bit longer, taking a few sips of my whisky and smoking my cigarettes. Staying here would make me feel less miserable than being in my lonely and silent home.
The painful words I said that night haunted my consciousness, as I felt the strong alcohol in my throat. I closed my eyes tightly and groaned in frustration. It shouldn't matter, I would never apologize to no dainty and obnoxious movie star .
But it mattered. I knew it did. How else could I explain my remorse? I hated the fact I had to feel like this. And yet, there was no one else to blame than me and my stupid mouth that didn’t seem to shut up when it needed to.
I was so used to her interested eyes on me, following me. Her trying to get my attention, fishing for a compliment, anything that came from me. It felt so odd to see her new indifference towards me, that it almost bothered me somehow.
I kept silent, alone with my thoughts. Then I heard soft music playing in the next room. It came from her dressing room. She was still here. I counted mentally, making a quick decision: One, two, three …
I stood up abruptly, before I lost my courage, storming out of my dressing room. But all of that confidence soon faded away when I was standing in front of her door.
I was about to knock, my hand about to touch the wood when the door opened suddenly in front of my face. That instant was immediately awkward as our faces faced each other in surprise. A confused Joan was observing me. She was simply dressed in her silk robe, her hair and make up still intact. I stared at her wide- eyed and feeling mortified that I was caught in the moment. “What are you doing here?” Joan asked, frowning.
“N-Nothing, I was just passing by, ready to leave…” As quickly as I could, I made up an excuse. I wasn’t able to tell her my real reasons why I was there.
“Sure, and you were leaving without your purse?” She observed, looking down at my hips. Damn it .
“Oh, I forgot it, you’re right… So, I’ll see you around” I fakely giggled, pretending that I had to leave for my dressing room, turning around. How I wish I was ten feet under the ground .
“Oh no, you don’t fool me Bette, you were about to knock on my door!” She stopped me in my tracks, as my back was facing her. I closed my eyes, in regret and sighed in annoyance.
Then, I turned to face her again, on the defense. “Me?! Why would I want to see you?!” I questioned as I placed my hands on my hips.
“You always boast that you’re the most honest woman and you can’t even say the truth to my face!” Crawford said, raising her voice for a moment, an eyebrow up like she was defying me. Then we noticed that some people at the Studio were looking at us as we argued outside of her room.
“Are you happy?! We have an audience now!” Who was I kidding? My voice was too loud to be hidden easily while battling with that woman. But I wanted to get into her nerves, again. I just simply didn’t learn my lesson.
“Get in!” She muttered discreetly, grabbing me by the wrist like I did that night in the alley. Soon I was inside of Joan’s dressing room, hearing how she closed the door, locking it.
I turned around, and faced her. “Why did you lock the door?” I asked, alerted.
“So the curious eyes, won’t send a spy here!” I deflated. I knew a lot of my colleagues and they sure liked to gossip around. They for sure would love to intrude and ask what was going on between us.
I sighed aloud. ”You’re right…” The woman with the freckled face crossed her arms in front of her, serious now.
“Why are you here?” Oh god, here we go. How am I supposed to do this ? I looked down, embarrassed. I tried to hide it though, I couldn't let her see me sweat.
“About the other day…” I tried, starting to explain, putting up a confident façade.
“What about it?” She interrupted quickly, asking restlessly.
“I just wanted to say that… Uh-" I looked up when I heard a distinctive click . She lit a cigarette, and exhaled the smoke to her side; her eyes not leaving mine.
"Go on… I'm listening…" She muttered. An arm went under her bosom, and the one that held the cigarette supported its elbow on the other’s palm in front of her waist.
It was better for me to do it as fast as I could. "I just wanted to say I'm sor- dammit! I can't do this" I huffed, exasperated.
Joan giggled as she observed me through a cloud of smoke that flew in front of her deep blue eyes. "Come on, you can say it…" Her brows were slightly up, I sensed a tint of amusement on her voice.
"Forget it!" I spat, not willing to give up my pride.
"Oh no, but darling , after all the trouble you went through to get here… You might as well just say it…" She shook her head slightly, like I had no way to escape this. She made it feel that way too, when she began to get closer to me, making me step back slowly.
My eyes stared at her intensely, visibly swallowing. "This was a mistake, I shouldn't have come here…" I whispered, stepping back once again until my butt hit her vanity. I flinched not realizing how much I had moved.
"But you did. So, let's get this over with…" Joan’s hand was now resting on the edge of her vanity, cornering me. She was too close for my liking.
"I'm…" Then my gaze averted without me desiring it. I noticed her robe had opened itself, revealing her white lace and silk underwear. Her chest had so many freckles on it, like the amount of stars that were in the sky at night. Her collarbone was so delicate, as well as her neck and… Cleavage. The bra was decent enough for it not to show too much, at the edge of displaying her chest fully. I was staring a lot I realized, looking up as soon as it hit me.
"You don't mind right? I've been changing so many times today, that I was just feeling comfortable like this…" Her voice was so deep, so intimate that it made my ears turn red. That happened too often when we were alone. Her perfume reached my nostrils, and I almost enjoyed it until I realized it was something to hate. Like everything that came from her.
I wanted to get away, it didn't matter how much I would stare at her hypnotizing eyes, her sculpted nose, and her red curl that was falling now on her forehead. I certainly did not stare at her red lips. "I despise you" I tried to sound as angered as I possibly could, like I couldn't stand her presence. Which was uh… The reality.
"Tell yourself that honey " I wondered if there was anyone in this world more obnoxious than her. My blood was boiling. But not for the reasons I initially thought. I felt suffocated, like I was spirilling in an endless loop.
Then I knew, I had never left that gray area. I was still there, even if I tried to convince myself otherwise. She was the aggressor, the origin of all my problems. The woman that occupied my thoughts, and a few of my restless nights.
Joan Crawford, you’re disgusting, simply unbearable, a thief of men, a piece of fake china that I want to throw on the floor and break into a million pieces. She is… She is all of that. I repeated it in my mind. I tried, God , I tried. If I repeated it, it would come true. Right ? But it didn’t.
Instead, the tension in the room disappeared. Only those four walls were the witness of me crushing my lips against hers. I succumbed to her spell, which might be the only explanation for my longing to taste her mouth.
La Belle was surprised, but as soon as she realized, she grabbed me by my waist. Why did she have to be such a good kisser? I asked myself as our lips found almost immediately, a perfect rhythm. I suppressed a moan.
It felt surreal, out of this world. Why did it have to be so different from any lips I’ve kissed before ? The impulse in my body had betrayed me as I leaned more into it.
Our bodies were now touching, our chests against each other' and I felt an electricity right there, which brought me back to reality. I ended that soft contact, unable to understand myself and why I had done that.
My eyes blinked so many times, expecting to be in a dream. But it was real, she was standing there, and her lips had the rouge smudged around her mouth. They slowly turned into a gentle smile. “I forgive you…” Her breathy voice and sultry eyes sent shivers down my spine and I was shaking.
“I-Good…” I tried to shake off the sensation, and slipped away in an awkward and jittery way, trying to calm down as I clumsily attempted to reach the door.
She followed my gaze, with a dreamy look on her face. Before I was about to grab the door knob, she called out to me. “Bette”
“What?” I looked up, like a scared cat.
“ Wipe your mouth ” She pointed out her own stained lips. I also caught that reference, my famous line in Of Human Bondage . I did it, quickly and sloppily. I don't know how, but I made it out.
Ruth Elizabeth Davis, what the hell you got yourself into ?
Notes:
Bette's ghost it's going to haunt me forever...
Thank you Dem for editing <3
Chapter 7: Fear
Summary:
Fear. A feeling that I haven't been accustomed to. A sentiment I never thought I could feel. Wasn’t I invincible? Wasn’t I used to challenges? But I had to understand this was something completely out of the ordinary, something incredibly new. Did I want to reach out to her? What was I longing for?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
November 1944 :
My body hit the sofa, after that long day of work. I had already lit a cigarette as my face, expressionless, was staring at nothing in particular.
I literally had run off the Studios, after our encounter. Now I was a tad more calm, trying to process what I had done. Where did that kiss come from?
I closed my eyes tightly in realization, shivering for a second as I recalled the memory in my head. I had kissed my rival, the woman I had despised for a long time. How in the hell did I have the guts to do that ? Huh, guess I always have acted like that, fearless in the moment that I least expected. And in reality I was still scared. Sometimes I don’t even understand myself…
The fear of the unknown was a common thing, right? But why from all the women in the world it had to be her? Just why? Why Joan fucking Crawford?
I guess her alluring presence, her seductive demeanor towards me, her foxy attitude, her elegant poise, her bohemian and sultry gaze had me captivated. Ugh, no . It can’t be right . I must have been so stressed about the work that I had fallen into a more dark and desperate situation. That could be a reason why I had been acting like that. It had to be that. Yes, the stress, the stress was to blame for it.
I crushed my cigarette in the ashtray next to me and grabbed my phone, dialing my friend’s number. I needed a familiar voice to serene myself. To bring me down to earth and remind me that everything was alright.
“Hello? Olivia?” I asked, almost smiling to myself.
“Bette! This morning I thought about you, I was about to call you then but I was wondering if you were at home… How have you been?” Her gentle voice quickly made me feel better.
“What a coincidence, I really missed you, that’s why I called… I’m fine I guess… What about you?” Well, that fine was a weird word for confused .
“Nothing out of the ordinary you know… The family is alright but… No roles yet… Warner likes to have me at his mercy…” A long sigh was heard from the other end of the line.
“They have no idea what talent they’re wasting…” I shook my head, I felt so bad for Olivia. I had been in that place before, years ago I had a trial against the Studio for the same reason, but I lost.
“I heard they might have a good script for me, but at this point… I don’t want to get that hopeful about it…” She sounded kinda defeated. Poor Olivia. But she wouldn't like me to show pity towards her.
“I know, been there so many times…” Just remembering it could give me a headache.
“Are you sure you’re alright? You sound quite somber…” She was so good at noticing my emotions. But I was always a transparent person, without any barriers for expressing myself.
“I… Well, I guess I needed to hear your voice to feel better… You’re one of the few people who can understand me…” I reflected as I grabbed another cigarette to lit.
“I hear you, what’s troubling you?” Olivia then asked. She was always so thoughtful towards others.
“I don’t really know. That’s the problem, it’s like this constant seed inside of me… Like I’m worried about what’s to come?” I tried to vocalize what was going on in my head, closing my eyes after tasting the nicotine. Like it would help me to visualize the root of my problems.
“I hear you… You mean what could happen to your career?” She questioned thoughtfully. She was such a patient woman.
“Well, yes… I’m getting closer and closer to my forties, and I see so many small changes in me that frighten me. You know…When I was in my mid twenties, I just felt I could go against the entire world to get what I wanted. And I did, you know? Now looking back at it, I don’t understand how I achieved that. As time passes by, it’s getting harder and harder to maintain that continuous fight of being who I am… To sustain that ambition…” I explained, taking my time to express how I was perceiving myself inside of these strange times.
“You’re feeling yourself getting tired… And it’s understandable after what happened …” I knew she was talking about Arthur. “But you survived Bette. You’re still a fighter, and they can’t take that away from you. And think about how many people you have inspired, even us, the other actresses, who wish to have that spirit that you have to overcome and succeed in our industry…” Olivia’s words touched me so deeply, that it felt like she was talking about someone extraordinary, rather than me.
“You really think so? Is the fight worth it?” I felt a pang in my chest as I asked that last question, trying to avoid the tears.
“Of course Bette. To reach this many people, it’s the most fulfilling thing one can do, especially for us actresses… ” I nodded to myself, and then I felt the warm tears on my cheeks. What a wimp. “Bette, are you crying?”
“See what I mean? I’m turning into an old bag, crying like this… And you know I don’t ever cry…” I was trying to lighten the mood, trying to make fun of myself while I giggled and wiped my tears.
“You’re human, you can cry, you old bag!” Olivia exclaimed loudly, teasing me. “And how is the film going, or you haven’t started yet?”
“No, we’ll start this Monday…” I said as I played with the phone cord, my fingers moving in their own accord.
“That’s good, how are you preparing?” She asked, sensing an enthusiastic tone in her voice.
“I think I have the character down already, and I also have learned the majority of my lines…” I said with not much enthusiasm in my voice.
“But you’re still worried…” I swallowed, my friend quickly reading between the lines. “Is that thanks to a certain admirer?” Admirer ? You could say so…God, I wanted to disappear from the human race.
“It might…” I closed my eyes tightly, cringing at the subject that we were discussing.
“Who is he? Tell me!” He? I almost laughed, ironically. If only Olivia knew who it was.
“You don’t know him, but he is… also something else…” I lied, something that I would never do with my friend, but I couldn't tell her the truth at all.
“Why is that?” Because it’s Joan Crawford ! My mind screamed internally.
“You know when I told you that I was afraid of my changes?” I mentioned again, making another question.
“Yes”
“Well, he is someone I would have never liked, he is not my usual type but still…” Never in a million years. What am I discussing right now? Have I lost my mind ?
“You like him right? That’s the problem?” Like her?! That can’t be ! It mustn't be.
“I-Uh…” I doubted myself, feeling trapped in my own confusion once again. “I think it’s just a physical thing…” Yes! That’s it!
“Well, you might just have fun while you’re at it! If it’s not serious, if it’s not a sentimental thing… I would just say go ahead! We live this life once, less thinking, more action Bette!” Oh how laughable this was. God, Olivia, you don’t know what you’re talking about .
“You think so?” I asked, a tad afraid, not letting it show in my voice. But my face was betraying me. Thankfully Olivia wasn’t here, because she would for sure be having a ball with my despair.
“Of course, atta girl!”
***
Monday came in. I have been up since 5 a.m., and it was the first day of filming. And god, it was long and exhausting.
That early morning, I entered the Studios with a slight fear of what I might encounter in my way. But luckily, for my nervous spirit, I didn’t see her around. That didn’t take away the fact that I felt jittery almost the entire time at the set. Almost on edge. But people didn’t notice, besides two or three mistakes that I made.
But now… What was I doing? I was entering the Canteen… On a Monday night. It was late compared to the usual time I would come by, but that’s because we were filming until dinner time. I had already gone home, had taken a shower and not satisfied with being totally worn out, my stubborn soul decided to come here.
When John spotted me, he stared at me, weirded out by my attitude. “Miss Ruth Elizabeth Davis, what are you doing here? On a Monday? Are you looking for a battle with the enemy?” He then giggled as he raised an eyebrow, teasing me mercilessly.
“Hello to you too!” I decided to ignore his remarks. Looking at my surroundings briefly. I spotted Philip Terry, her husband, scrubbing dishes in the kitchen. I wondered where she was. Stop it, who cares !
“Hi!” John smiled, dropping his jokes for now. “How was filming?”
“Good, and exhausting!” I gave him a tired smile, as I fixed a few of my ginger strands behind my ear.
“Then you should be getting some rest, I can take care of this on my own…” He seemed worried, being thoughtful with me. He was such a great guy.
“I know John, but… I’ll be here for a few minutes then I’ll leave. I think I… I needed to breathe the exciting Canteen air again!” What a load of crap. I knew it as I lied through my teeth.
“Well, sure… I’m going to help Phillip out …” He looked at me for a second with doubt, weirded out once again by my strange appearance on that particular day.
“Okay, I’ll check the boys, and see if everything’s going alright…” John nodded, turning around and heading in his direction. I, on the other hand, started to walk around the Canteen, greeting the soldiers, a few of them asking for an autograph.
When I stopped at one of the tables, signing one of the young fellas’ handkerchiefs, I heard her voice. “Good evening gentlemen! Good evening, Miss Davis…” I didn’t flinch nor acknowledge her presence until I finished that autograph.
“Miss Crawford! Please join us!” A very hopeful young man said, and I looked up. Meeting her gaze with mine. She was wearing a black jacket with huge shoulder pads, a flowy skirt as well, of the same color that went just under her knees. Of course, her heels were fashionable. The apron she used on top gave it an adorable twist. Her curls were more free tonight, with barely any makeup, only her signature eyeliner and her lips were bright red.
(Joan's outfit)
“Good evening” I replied, trying not to show any emotion in my face. But her… Her eyes were trying to say something to me, maybe something mischievous. Her breathtaking gaze soon left my eyes to reply to the young folks.
“I’d be delighted boys, but I have so much work to do!” She gave them a million-dollar smile, and a flirty wink that made them complain because she decided to walk away after that. My eyes followed her slim figure, almost in a trance, watching carefully how her walk had a distinctive rhythm that could hypnotize you.
“Miss Davis…” I was almost startled when I realized I had forgotten where I was. The kiddo who I had made the signature for, pointed to his handkerchief. I forgot to give it back to him.
“Oh I’m sorry, here you go!” I gave him back the soft fabric.
“Oh no, don’t apologize. Thank you very much for this Miss Davis, I’ll never forget this night!” I gave him a gentle smile, and excused myself from that group of boys.
As I walked around the establishment, I felt overwhelmed. Just like that night of the premiere, when I realized how much I had been staring at her. So, I decided to go to the bathroom, to freshen up.
I went to the ladies restrooms, glad to find it empty. I approached the sinks, to splash some water on my face. It was so cold, but I needed it desperately. Why was I here ? Why did I come here today, of all days ? Was it only to see her ? What did I want from her ?
I stared at my reflection, noticing how the droplets fell from my face. My clear blue eyes were tired but something else still was there. What woman was this ? Was I always like this ? Didn’t I ever notice it ? So many questions were in my mind that it was almost impossible to find them an answer. Or was I avoiding finding that answer?
Fear. A feeling that I haven't been accustomed to. A sentiment I never thought I could feel. Wasn’t I invincible? Wasn’t I used to challenges? But I had to understand this was something completely out of the ordinary, something incredibly new. Did I want to reach out to her? What was I longing for?
“ Less thinking, more action !” Olivia said. I was always a reactionary person, acting on impulse but lately, I have been feeling like I was analyzing too much what I was doing.
I decided to stop my train of thought, shaking it off those questions in my head. I grabbed a towel and I covered my face to dry it out. As I did this, I heard the door of the restroom opening. When I made sure my face was dry enough, I uncovered it, to later see in the reflection of the mirror… Her .
She was standing beside the door, and when our gaze met in that reflection, she had a defying stare, but her body language seemed hesitant. I didn’t know what to do or say, the both of us standing in weird silence. It was strange because it wasn’t awkward, nor was it comfortable. It felt necessary, like there were so many things to say but at the same time, we didn’t need to. Like our eyes could communicate it by themselves.
I left the towel in its original place, averting my eyes elsewhere. I heard the sound of her heels getting closer. At the corner of my eye, I saw her reaching out for something in her purse, standing in front of the mirror. When my gaze was back at the mirror, fixing some strands of my short hair, I peeked at her. She was reapplying her lipstick.
It reminded me of that night, almost ten years ago, when she insinuated me at that party. But it wasn’t the same situation this time. I didn’t feel like laughing, nor making fun of her. It was different .
When her eyes, deep blue like the sea, stared back at me, only then I knew it. I wanted it. I wanted whatever she was offering me. Only I could act as a fool, and pretend I was here for any other reason, but deep down I knew I was here for her. Even if I acted like a scared and confused Bette , something in my body wanted it.
Slowly, I made my way towards one of the bathroom stalls, opening the door of one of them, and standing in that open space. I stared at her once again, and she did the same, meeting my eyes on the reflection. She returned the lipstick to her purse, and turned around to face me from her spot. How dangerous.
I swallowed as I opened the door, to leave more room… Making a subtle invitation with my eyes. I felt so tense, almost shaking in my legs at the risks I was taking.
Joan took my invitation, smiling ever so slightly, that you almost couldn't notice it. Every step that she took, getting closer to me, had my heart beating faster and faster. Am I going insane ?
She stepped in, closing the door with a lock, and the both of us were alone in that small space. When she turned around, after closing it, I felt myself entering her trance, once again.
My mind went blank. Only I did what my instincts wanted. I grabbed her by her jaw, kissing her lips as I cornered her against the door. Joan moaned, surprised but eager to kiss me back with the same hunger. Our arms quickly found each other’s bodies.
I didn’t know myself then, but what I did know is that I couldn't stop. And good heavens, I didn’t want to. I was enjoying the feeling of her lips on me, and they felt soft… So soft, like touching petal roses . My fingers were exploring her figure, that could only be described as statuesque.
Her hips, her waist, I grabbed them like my life depended on it, as I devoured her with a type of necessity I had never felt before. It was as if there were a natural attraction that I was unable to get away from. Joan held me tightly too, with the exact same urge that would have me at her mercy.
Our kiss deepened, as our tongues met in a heated contact that I was soon obsessed with. More, more, I just wanted… More . I felt how the heat was spreading throughout my whole body, waking up sensations I haven’t felt in months.
I felt my face red as I left her lips, keeping those kisses on her skin, going down from her jaw to her neck. Oh, her perfume was addicting . “Bette…” I barely heard her breathy voice, almost moaning out my name. She wasn't shy when I felt her hands lingering under my breasts. So I let her know she could go further, as my hands were going slowly down her back, further to her butt.
Although it was urgent, heated and sudden, it felt so different to the manly rough hands that I was used to in the past. She was careful, delicate and still, she knew how to make it daringly. I exhaled loud when I felt her hands on my chest, it felt so good. I felt desired, like I haven't in a long time.
I felt lost in time and space, as now she grabbed me by my jaw, desperately looking for my lips. She was needy, and I was too… I needed her, even though I didn’t want to acknowledge it before. I felt the desire that was rising between my legs… I couldn't bear it anymore.
But the door of the restrooms opened, hearing a couple of girls talking gleefully about their night. My eyes opened wide, as our lips disconnected, both of us catching our breaths. Joan’s pretty lips smirked, putting a finger on mine. “Shush” She whispered ever so closely to my mouth.
My heart was trying to undo my chest as the adrenaline was flowing inside of my body. Thank god the toilet stalls were fully private, so no one could see that behind that door there were four feet inside of it. I felt my head spinning around as I stared closely at Joan's face, smiling gently to me.
Now that she was this up close, I observed her freckled complexion. It was a pity she always covered them for the big screen. They were beautiful. Although the light inside of that stall was dim, I still had the opportunity to appreciate it, as well as her piercing eyes. But in contrast to those films I’d seen of her, where she would stare at her male interest with a flirty gaze, here I was able to see another Joan. I didn’t know what it was, but it wasn’t just a mischievous or teasing sight.
I wasn’t listening or paying attention to what those ladies were talking about, all my brain was focusing on was her overwhelming presence against my heated body. She didn’t even wait for the intruders to get out, she was kissing me again and I was eager to keep going. And just like that, I was on that roller coaster again. I felt shivers on my arms when she grabbed me by the neck, making me tilt my head to kiss her even deeper.
After that main door closed, we knew we were alone again in that restroom. I was no longer the owner of my own actions, I realized. I then heard Joan moan deliciously when I suddenly grabbed her breast. But her sounds of pleasure made me more aware of my surroundings.
“I have to get back,” I whispered, almost breathless to her, as both of my hands grabbed the sides of her jaw. Joan's mouth was agape, and I had to control myself to kiss her again.
“You spoil all the fun…” She protested, almost pouting at me. But that didn’t stop her. Soon her hot lips were on my neck, trying to make me stay.
“Joan…” I whimpered as I felt weak at what she was doing on that sensitive spot. But she didn’t say a thing, instead she was even more cruel, using her tongue to persuade me somehow. “Someone could caught us”
“They won’t dear, don’t worry…” She whispered deeply, with a tone that could only be described as erotic. God, my ears were bright red.
“I have to go” But I knew I didn’t want to stop. Joan seemed to get the message and gave me some space to fix my clothes and hair.
“Here…” She said, grabbing a handkerchief and cleaning up my lips that were stained with her rouge lipstick. Then she also scrubbed gently on my neck, and feeling her hot breath close to me, I shivered.
We had kissed so much that there was almost no trace of lipstick anymore. Afterwards, she also rubbed the fabric on her lips. “Leave first, I’ll come out later”
“Alright…” Why did it feel like we have done this before? Like it was a common thing between each other?
“Wait” She grabbed me by the wrist before I opened the door, to give me a last passionate kiss, leaving me breathless and almost disoriented. “Now go” She said with a proud stare, after leaving my lips, hers just a few inches away from mine.
I left the ladies restrooms, almost feeling like an entirely different woman. The only thing I was hoping for, is that my pants weren't stained .
That late night when my body felt the soft sheets, I made sure the frustration and need were out of my body. My hands reached out to that place where I needed it the most, satisfying myself… On my own.
I thought about someone , remembering those hands on my body and how exciting it felt. It was now my secret, I decided: I touched myself at the thought of none other than Joan Crawford.
Notes:
Okay... Don't tell Bette plz.
Thank you Dem for editing <3
Chapter 8: The Corn Is Green
Summary:
“You should relax more, Bette. You are all tensed up, do I make you nervous?”
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
November 1944:
It’s been three days, three long days since I saw her and I couldn't believe that I was living in a world where I was counting the hours till I saw Joan Crawford again.
The restroom experience was, to say the least, something that I never thought would happen to me. If anything, it left me wanting more. I needed her to go further, to be able to feel her soft hands in other places.
The thought of her desperate moans trying to keep me in that stall was enough to make me all hot and bothered. It felt so good to be there with her, to feel wanted by her. It was so unfair that we had to stop so quickly, that our surroundings didn’t want us to continue. But if I could I would have kissed her deeper and then taken my hands to … Bette stop, you are in a room full of people that are paying too much attention for you to be having these kinds of thoughts.
Filming The Corn is Green has been proving to be more difficult than expected, the fact that I had to be surrounded by people almost every single moment of the day because of this damn wig was getting on my nerves, as well as this confining dress from the 1890s. Not that it was difficult, though. But today it seemed to be a burden, again .
“Okay, I think we’ll end it for today. Thank you everyone!” Irving Rapper, the director announced, and I was more than glad. I loved my job, but when you’re overwhelmed, sometimes it could get to be too much. Retakes, different angles, people going here and there, breaks that were too brief to actually rest and continuous hours of shooting.
Soon I made my way to my dressing room, with Mary and Harry, helping me to get out of my outfit, wig and makeup. After that, only Mary and I were left in that room. “There’s not much cream left to take that makeup off, Miss Davis”
“It’s alright, I can take the rest off at home.” I assured her as I scrubbed my face with the cotton. I know I should be more gentle but I was pretty careless with my skin care, or anything that made me waste my time for more than five minutes. I wasn’t a very feminine woman, and I didn’t care about it. I knew I wasn’t a beautiful starlet , and I cared more about my acting than my looks.
“I’ll try to ask if anyone still has some in the dressing room next door…” The kind young girl declared, making her way to the door.
“Wait Mary, it’s alright, really, you don’t need to. Also, I’m all done here, you can go home…” I let her know as I turned around on my chair. I wanted some time alone.
“Well, alright Miss. Davis…” She grabbed her coat, still seeming hesitant to leave but she finally did. “Good night Miss Davis!”
(Bette Davis' dressing room at Warner's)
“Good night Mary!” I exhaled once I saw her leave. After that I took care of my hair, it looked like a bird’s nest. I might be careless with how I looked, but not that careless. So I began the hard task of untangling my hair with hard strokes, damn that wig and the horrible wig cap that they made me put on.
As I was doing that there was a knock on the door. “Mary, it’s okay, I was able take that makeup off!” I told the young girl, who probably came with the rest of the product.
Then before I got the opportunity to turn around I felt soft hands grabbing mine and a deep voice I knew so well. “I’m not Mary, but I could definitely help you with this” Joan said as she looked at me in the eyes through the mirror. I was left speechless, which was something so out of character for me, I never felt what being left without words meant until now. “May I?” she asked again softly with her sultry voice and I could only nod.
She took the hairbrush out of my hands and slowly but surely started brushing my hair like I was a doll. It was all silence, neither of us were speaking. I smelled her perfume and I could feel how thick the air was getting when one of her hands went to my exposed shoulder, caressing me softly. “You should relax more, Bette. You are all tensed up, do I make you nervous?” she asked, I sensed a teasing tone in her voice.
“N-no” I answered, stuttering like one of my impertinent characters on the big screen. I tried to stay still, breathing in deeply as I felt the heat of her body near me. Then I noticed she was wearing a robe as well. “Were you filming?” I tried to make a conversation so my mind would feel more at ease.
“Yes, we were… We just finished a few minutes ago…” Her voice sounded so calm, too relaxed for my liking. It was making the hairs on my neck stand up. She was so gentle when she brushed my copper hair, and she knew exactly how to style my big, problematic curls. “There…” She whispered, now glancing at my face in the mirror, as she gave her last touches to the locks.
Our gaze met once again, and I was more than overwhelmed. “You’re so beautiful...” She mumbled, with an intensity I felt in her eyes.
“Don’t lie…” I said, and I didn’t know why I was doubting what she said. I was not a beautiful woman, not even close to how she was. I couldn't be a precious creature like her. If I am beautiful , then what about her?
Her ruby lips got close to my ear to purr: “You know I’m not lying…” Her hands then embraced me from behind, grabbing me by the waist. I shuddered under her touch. Her lips then were on my neck, making me exhale an audible sigh, closing my eyes immediately in delight.
My god, this woman knew how to kiss, where to, and with the right intensity to drive anyone insane. I felt how slowly her hands went up, and my breath hitched when with her soft touch, she cupped my breasts.
Right there, I turned to meet her lips with mine, I couldn't bear not to kiss her. Once again, just like that night at the restrooms, we were desperate for each other’s touch. I held on to her, my arms around her small waist, feeling the silk of her robe annoying now to the touch, since I wanted to feel her skin.
Our hot breaths, the urge in our hands, trying to get every inch of our torsos, our chests pressed against each other… It felt so new, yet so right . Once our tongues met, that’s when I felt Joan’s hands off of me. I ended our contact, as I opened my eyes not knowing what was happening.
La Belle was undoing her robe in front of me, revealing her naked body to me. The silk fell from her figure in such a way that it was almost poetic. I truly have never seen anything more beautiful in my entire life.
Her freckled complexion was highlighted thanks to the lights of my vanity. Her delicate collar bone was almost shining under the bright hue. My eyes were going down, getting all flushed when I saw her perky breasts.
Her curves were soft, like god itself had created her figure. Her belly was defined as her strong legs. Her waist, which I had grabbed desperately before, looked so pale and delicate. Her thick thighs invited you to touch them, I just wished that my fingers would travel around those… Until I reached her intimate place, her mound was carefully trimmed. She seemed to treat her body like a temple, oozing femininity.
“Are you just going to stand there?” Joan smiled slightly, reading a bit of nervosity on her demeanor. She had taken a risk, exposing herself in front of me, and now she looked vulnerable. My brain was trying to process what was happening, and I was astonished by her presence.
Joan's eyes widened mortified, and then she quickly grabbed her robe again to cover herself, taking me out of my trance. “Don’t…” I mumbled in desperation as I grabbed her by her wrist, just as she was putting on that garment again.
She seemed scared, and I noticed the worry on her face. Her precious porcelain face was blushing, maybe from the embarrassment. “You’re making fun of me…”
“Not at all, I was… In awe…” My right hand rested gently at the side of her jaw, and I began to then stare at her lips, and steadily but surely, pressed mine against hers once again. When we were kissing again, I grabbed the hem of her robe, to discard it to the floor. And she did the same with mine, urgently.
There we stood, in the middle of my dressing room, without anything on, our lips kissing each other like our life depended on it, and this time nothing could stop us. Clumsily and without any care, we ended up on my sofa as we kept heated contact.
Finally, as I was under her, I was able to touch her skin, going from her waist, to her hips, down to her firm thighs to grab them with necessity just under her ass. Then she left my mouth to direct her kisses elsewhere: she went from my neck, to my collarbone, going straight to my breasts. I held my gaze and breath as I watched her reach my nipples. In that exact moment she threw a cheeky stare before she would even continue, how evil . My face turned bright red as I got played in that instant.
And when I least expected it, her warm tongue was on them, licking and playing with them with intention, making me gasp and close my eyes for a moment. It felt so good . Just then I heard a knock and a voice that made me panic. “Miss Davis? I got the cream for the makeup!”
I stared at Joan, alerted and she seemed unbothered, smiling mischievously. “I locked the door, don’t worry…” She whispered daringly close to my lips, to later take her mouth again to my sensitive nipple. “It’s O-okay Mary…”
Joan was wicked enough to do the unexpected. Her soft but sneaky fingers went down on me, to explore and touch my intimate place. “I was a-able to take everything o-off” I had to make that girl go away. God, how hard it was to talk.
“Are you sure Miss Davis? Are you feeling alright?” The young girl insisted, probably reading my awkward and urgent voice. I had to cover my mouth when I felt her skillful fingers inside of me. She was doing it on purpose, and enjoying every second of it. I opened my eyes as I saw the smirk on her pretty face. Again what I didn’t expect was her going down on me.
“I’m sure, Mary!” I don’t know how I had the strength to manage it, and speak properly without any trace of lust in my voice. Just then I felt Joan’s tongue on me, making me shiver all over. I felt the heat on my face, I was probably red as a tomato as I glanced for a moment, the door.
“Alright Miss Davis, I’ll see you tomorrow!” Mary sounded less worried now that she heard me speak normally. Please leave .
“See you tomorrow!” I tried to fake a gleeful tone so she would really leave now, and I heard her walking away. Thank god . I felt how the Belle finger’s were going deeper inside of me, and faster as well, meeting her gaze again. The view in front of me made me insane: Joan was staring at me intensely as her mouth did wonders on me, swirling and flicking her tongue on my sensitive nerve as she grabbed me by the tights, her red fingernails almost pressing hard on my skin. And I didn’t mind, not one bit.
“Jesus Christ…” I exhaled a shaky breath as I tried to hide my whines, and moans that I wanted to let go freely without any care.
The satisfaction on her face -so full of herself for making me undone under her power- soon appeared as she kept going, with more intensity, feeling how her fingers curved inside of me, and I involuntarily gasped, my back curving upwards. I covered my face as my fingers sensed how I was sweating, feeling piping hot. I was at the verge, so close that I couldn't help but whine and let some barely audible moans slip from my mouth.
I had never experienced that much pleasure, she knew what to do and how to. She had me at the cornice of ecstasy, making me experience sensations I never thought I could. The lust in that small room was so palpable, so obscene, that I soon felt obsessed with it. Why was having sex with a woman so good ?
The way that she touched me, she gazed at me, and how she treated me… was so particular that it made me feel desired, even sexy. I felt comfortable, like we had done this before… How strange.
When I finally reached my high I bit down on my hand, and my legs shook, feeling so weak but also like I had been on a wild ride, elevated into another dimension.
As I was trying to catch my breath, Joan went up, kissing from my belly, to my chest, until our lips met again. I kissed her back, embracing her with my arms, our heated skin meeting.
Joan accommodated herself on her sides and I did as well on that small sofa, without breaking our contact. I felt the urge of touching her as well, making the quick decision of moving my hand down to feel her warmth.
She moaned in my mouth when she felt my fingers in her, slowly penetrating with two of them. She was extremely wet, that it was audible as I pumped in and out of her. Joan's lips left mine as she attempted to catch her breath as she enjoyed what I was doing to her. She closed her eyes, her pretty lips that had the smudged rouge were agape, and she was clinging to me like it was a matter of life or death. Even her whines were pretty to my ears.
Our foreheads touched, as I stared at every movement of her porcelain face which was reading only pleasure. What had she done to me ? How did we reach this moment ? “I hate you” I mumbled, moving my fingers even faster in her.
She stared back at me as she was heaving, and I barely noticed a smirk on her lips. “Hate me more” She moaned, biting her lips afterwards, before any other sounds might escape.
Soon, her orgasm came, as we met our lips together once again, in a long and perfervid kiss.
A calm ensued as our lips separated and we heaved, our mouths still too close. I had closed my eyes, as I tried to serene my heart from that elating experience. Her hands caressed my back, making small circles on my skin. It was so intimate, and I felt something else too… I didn’t know what, neither did I want to find out.
Leisurely, we were now in total silence, our foreheads still making contact. Her hands went to my cheeks, cupping them, making me open my eyes and receiving a chaste kiss, and just like that, she left the sofa.
I observed her picking up her robe from the floor, her toned legs flexing as she bent down. That's not the only place I stared at. How audacious of me to be looking at her like that. But she was feeling too comfortable naked, letting her robe still open as she checked her lipstick and the state of her hair on the mirror.
I swallowed and grabbed my robe to put it on, too aware of how I looked. I stayed seated on my sofa as I tried to comb my hair with my fingers. Suddenly she announced. “Gotta go darling, I have guests at home” She was fixing her curls in the reflection, to later turn and give me that worldwide-known smile.
“Alright” I felt shy all of the sudden, trying not to let it show. She approached me and kissed me once again, too quickly, too brief. When she was grabbing the door knob, she turned to me.
“I’ll think looong and hard about you tonight…”She confessed with a deep tone in her voice. My eyes were opened wide at her sudden remark, leaving me all alone in that now cold and empty dressing room.
***
After that incident we saw each other almost every day, little glances from across the hall or sneeky make out sessions in every little corner that gave us privacy. We couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves, just like two hot and bothered teenagers that needed skin contact with their lover just to survive another day.
She would come to my dressing room, to avoid a surprise visit from her husband, right after Mary would leave, and we would find new ways to make the other steer in deep pleasure. I would let her brush my hair and help me get my makeup off so she could paint my face once again in deep red kisses.
I entered a new dimension where she was the one leading me, showing me behind closed doors, how much pleasure women could have together. I was discovering new sensations, a different kind of physical extasis that I had been missing in the past. Every time it thrilled me, I didn’t know what it was, but every encounter was unique.
Surprisingly I started working again at the Canteen on Mondays. Past Bette would be found dead before putting herself voluntarily in a situation where she had to see Joan Crawford, but at that moment I didn’t care, the necessity of seeing her trespassing any limit I had put up before.
I arrived there at 5:30, John wiping tables and Joan talking with some of the guys at the bar and giving them autographs. I kissed John’s cheek and made my way to the back room.
As I was washing my hands I felt a soft touch on my hips followed by a simple kiss on my hair. “Hello, darling” she whispered against my ear before giving me space to dry my hands and turn around. I looked at her worried that someone could see us but she quickly dismissed it. “The door is closed, don’t worry”. She was wearing a short sleeved dark blue dress, buttoned up from the front, and she looked so beautiful with her curly hair down.
“Good” I said, trying to calm my heart from the little panic. “How are you?” I asked her.
“Much better now that you are here” she answered with a smirk on her freckled face and approaching me once again.
“But we saw each other yesterday” I replied, trying to seem indifferent.
“Oh but Bette, my dear, didn’t you miss me?” she asked and even if she was playing with me I could see that it was a genuine question. For my part I was left speechless, because I did miss her, but this was all physical, there was no space for feelings. Before I could embarrass myself she continued. “Didn’t you miss my hands all over your body, sweetheart?” and, god, how I loved the suggestive pet names she used with me. She got closer, and closer, almost touching me and it was proving to be impossible to not reach out and kiss her senseless.
“I…” I started saying but we were interrupted by a knock on the door. She immediately pulled away, I was trying to do the same but I knocked down some pots from the drying spot. “Fuck” I murmured as I started fixing everything, her coming right behind me to help. She started laughing at the situation and so did I.
“Are you girls okay?” asked John as he put his head inside the room, the noise worrying him.
“Yes, we are my dear. I was fixing some things and silly old me knocked some of them down without noticing” Joan said as she laughed, taking the blame. “Luckily my dear friend, Bette, was here to help me and explain to me where everything goes,” She continued as she put the pot inside one of the cabinets. John looked at me suspiciously and I just nodded, feigning innocence. I must admit that the word friend sounded completely awkward and strange to my ears.
“If you excuse me I will continue with the orders I have to prepare” Joan said brightly as she left, not before sending a wink on my way without John noticing. I blushed but tried to hide it as I pretended to look for my cardigan.
“I know I told you to apologize to her, but I never thought you two would become friends,” He said in a teasing tone, as he looked at me.
“I don’t know what you are talking about we are just being civil” I said to him as I too left the back room to start with my job.
“Whatever you say, my dear friend,” He said, laughing out loud as I went to one of the tables near Joan, not before passing next to her and caressing her hand with mine before anyone else noticed. Yes, we almost got caught and we should maybe stop, but this game we were playing was definitely too much fun for us to just let it go.
Notes:
Plz don't tell Bette pt. 2
Thank you Dem and Juli for the editing <3
Chapter 9: Lucille
Summary:
I had started to discover a side of her that I didn’t know before. She was clingy, even though she tried to hide it from me. This last gesture was like her almost saying: No, please stay. She was like a puppy, demanding attention from me, but not for her ego, she wanted affection.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
February 1945 :
The leather of a car seat and her silk kerchiefs. The smell of nicotine and her panty hoes. I was getting used to the heat, the warmth, the lustful moans and the ruined panties everytime we would part ways. Although tonight, I didn’t want to take her home. Her home, where he was waiting for her.
Like any other common couple of secret lovers, we were making out in the car. It was in the middle of nowhere, on a hill in Hollywood. Yet we weren’t that far from her Brentwood home. Her car was at the mechanic that day, and Philip had taken her earlier that morning to the Studios.
I told her I could give her a ride back home, so she let him know. Obviously, we wouldn't waste this occasion to at least have a brief escapade.
Joan had sat on my lap as we were on the driver’s seat. Her arms were wrapped around my neck as we kissed until our lips hurt. My arms grabbed the sides of her soft thighs - those which I loved to caress -. Clinging to her milky skin like oftentimes I would.
She had spent the entire day shooting at the Studio. I, on the other hand, spent it doing a photoshoot to promote my latest film. Before Christmas could roll around the corner, we had finished The Corn Is Green . I just hoped that the effort was worth it in the end.
Joan was really optimistic about Mildred Pierce , she was giving her all, it was the role of her life she told me. Since I didn’t have the opportunity to be at the set, I didn’t know how that film was going, but there were rumors already that she was doing a great job. She deserved it after all those years of being neglected as an actress.
“Joan, we have to go, it’s getting too late” I mumbled, forcing myself to leave her soft lips. We were both heaving from those intense kisses.
The look on her face… She was trying to hide her disappointment. I read it. She then sighed, and hid her face on the crook of my neck. Her arms were still around me.
I had started to discover a side of her that I didn’t know before. She was clingy, even though she tried to hide it from me. This last gesture was like her almost saying: No, please stay . She was like a puppy, demanding attention from me, but not for her ego, she wanted affection . Something that she seemed to lack. Something that it seemed he wasn’t giving it to her. To say she didn’t love him was an understatement.
I suspected that under all of her persona of Joan Crawford, there were so many things I didn’t know. The movie star would show herself as a charismatic, kind, and generous woman, always smiling in front of everyone. But that couldn't fool you, she was a determined and strong woman when it came to her job, just like me, she wouldn't let anyone step over her.
But under all of it, there was an unsure and sentimental woman. Someone who wanted to be loved by everyone, to have validation from her colleagues, directors, fans… Almost like it was the air that she needed to breathe. In small moments like this, I would see a crack of that vulnerable Joan.
Even though we never talked that deeply about things, anyone who could pay close attention to her, would notice it. Since our thing started almost two months before, all of our encounters were brief, quick so no one would suspect anything. There wasn’t much time to speak about ourselves, we didn’t open up about our private lives yet. Just casual remarks, flirty comments, and plans for the next encounter.
It was just physical. But from time to time, there was a little hesitation to speak, to say something other than the common conversation between us. To get out of the limits, invisible ones, which had been demarcated without either of us saying it.
Still, without her saying a word, I could read through her eyes, her gestures, her lips… She was trying to hide her raw emotions from me, I knew there were so many things left unsaid. I think both of us were scared to open the box where we were hiding stuff.
Yes, we needed each other to satisfy ourselves, and the natural reaction of our bodies, something that seemed to be only between us, as if we were the only ones able to fulfill it. I was trying to ignore if there was something else under the rug.
I felt her hot breath as she whispered. “Let’s go” She left my lap to accommodate herself on her seat. I nodded, without saying anything else, and I turned on the engine. As I drove to her house, I saw in the corner of my eye how she fixed her lipstick, making sure that our meeting didn’t leave any trail on her skin. Before her husband would see her.
In less than ten minutes I was parking in front of her home. “Well…” We stared at each other for a moment, it felt like eternity. I don’t know why but it was almost awkward. She opened her mouth and then closed it again. It looked like Joan wanted to say something as she clutched her bag. “Thank you for bringing me home…”
“You’re welcome” I smiled gently, feeling kind of jittery. Strange .
“I’ll see you around…” She then opened the car’s door and started to walk towards her mansion, glancing back at me once to wave. I waved back, waiting for her to get inside of her house.
Once she was out of sight, I went back to my home. I took a long and warm shower that was urgently needed. The water washed away all of the tiredness and stress from the long hard day of work. Although I had to admit since our affair had started, I had begun to feel more relaxed, and at ease. Perhaps all of my frustrations and the discontentment I would feel could be let go when we had our little adventures .
I dried my hair with my towell kind of roughly, trying to shake off those thoughts. Like that would help me to not have her name on my mind all the time. I already saw her tonight, it should’ve been enough of a dosage. Isn’t it ?
I decided to ignore my own silly ideas, and put on my pajamas. I combed my copper hair, trying not to be that brusque as I always was. Surely patience wasn’t a virtue I was that accustomed to. As I did that in front of my mirror I realized how hungry I was. I literally didn’t eat almost anything in the entire day. I was more than eager today to finish as much work as I could.
It was finally Friday, and I was planning to have some rest. Although I knew I’d spend the weekend mostly at the Canteen. I just couldn't turn the switch off, and rest properly. I sighed as I plucked a few hairs from my eyebrows. “Ouch…” God, I was a savage sometimes. I’ll let the makeup artist take care of it on Monday . As I rubbed my sensitive, hurting skin, I heard the phone ring at my bedside table. I left the bathroom to pick up the call. “Hello?”
“Bette?” I heard her distinctive voice through the other end of the line, but this time it was sorrowful. Joan was crying.
“Joan? What’s going on? Are you alright?” I rapidly questioned.
“Yes… Well… Not really… I had an awful argument with Philip and I need to get out of this house… Immediately…” She had a hard time speaking properly and I made a quick decision without debating it too much in my head.
“You can come here… Do you need me to pick you up?” I asked, alarmed, and now worried about her safety. You could never trust what a man would do. I didn’t know what kind of person Philip was.
“No, no that’s alright. I can take a cab… I’ll be there in a few minutes…” And just like that she hung up. I was wondering what might have happened, she seemed so rushed to leave that she didn’t even care that a taxi driver would see her in such a state.
As she had said, in just a few minutes, she was knocking at my door. When I opened it, I didn’t find a much different Joan than the one I had seen almost an hour ago. She was still wearing the same outfit, but she had a hat on, with a tulle that covered her face. I could faintly notice her reddened eyes.
“Hi” We both said at the same time, which prompted us to smile ever so slightly. I gave her room at the door and invited her in. “Come inside… It’s cold outside…”
“Thank you…” She mumbled shyly, as she entered, immediately observing her surroundings. “You have a lovely house…”
“Thank you, I’m terrible at decorating but I think it looks decent…” I mumbled, looking around as well. I felt weird there, Joan Crawford was in my house. Something I never thought could happen in my life.
“It has an European style… Interesting…” She was trying to act as if she hadn’t been crying over the phone before she came here. I breathed in, now staring at her.
“Joan… Are you alright?” I asked softly, her eyes finding me in a hesitant stare. Like she was ashamed. Slowly, she took off her hat, finally revealing her face. Her eyes were puffy, pink all over her soft skin. It was not common at all for someone to catch her in a vulnerable state. She stood clutching her hat nervously in front of her, looking at the floor for a second then meeting my gaze again, in fright. Her eyes glistened with tears that threatened to fall. She was almost shaking. What was going on inside of her ?
Almost like a scared deer, she got closer to me, one step ahead. Two. Until suddenly, she hugged me in desperation, finally bursting into tears on my shoulder. It took me a moment to react, and I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tightly. I sucked at this, at being a comfort to someone who was having a bad time. Just terrible at it, probably the worst person to come to. But she needed me, she wouldn't have let anyone else see her like this. Otherwise, she wouldn't be here.
I then understood from her body language that she was completely helpless, embarrassed enough, desolated, and truly in need for comfort. Someone to listen to her. I would try my best, because I knew how hard it could be to carry a marriage, especially for us, professional actresses with huge careers on our shoulders.
People had expectations for her, the fans, our producers, our families, even ourselves. I was no stranger to bumpy marriages, nor the disappointment I had felt on my own when they failed, always taking the most blame for their endings.
I caressed her back softly as I heard how she sobbed next to me. It was like she was pouring out all of the sadness, frustration and stress from her tiny body.
I knew we were seen as strong, opinionated women. Ready to face anything. We had built ourselves in that way to survive Hollywood. But keeping up that front was extremely hard. Behind closed doors, we were sentimental and fragile women. I was used to that, so I understood her, even if she didn’t say a word about it. Her tears were enough for me to comprehend her troubles. And this was just the tip of the iceberg, I didn’t know then what Joan had been through to get where she was.
We stood there, as I held her, and I let her cry. I didn’t think it was necessary for me to say anything to her at that moment. She just wanted to be held. In time, she started to calm herself, sniffling and wiping her own tears.
She ended our contact to grab her purse and take her handkerchief to blow her nose. I still caressed the side of her arm in silence. “I-I’m so sorry for this scene, for coming here, at this hour…” She talked so fast, still seeming ashamed of herself, not looking back at me.
“No, no, it’s alright really. Don’t apologize, Joan. You’re not made of stone, crying is human” I remembered Olivia’s words, repeating them as she did with me when I felt weird for even tearing up.
She looked up at me after hearing that, still hesitant. I don't know who was in front of me, but this wasn't the same woman I had known. It was like a small child who had been reprimanded too many times, who was now allowed to do anything.
I placed my hand on her lower back. "You must be hungry. Let's get something to eat" I tried to be more soft towards her, offering a kind smile. She didn't even blink and she barely nodded before I took her with me to my kitchen.
I turned on the small radio I had in that room, and classical music was playing on the speakers. Joan sat on one of the kitchen stools, right next to the wooden breakfast bar. I knew my housekeeper always left the dinner made for me, and I found a few chicken sandwiches on a plate that was covered to keep them warm.
“What would you like to drink?” I asked as I approached the fridge, grabbing mayo, and a jar of juice.
“Water is alright” She still looked shy, but seemed more at ease than before.
“Go ahead, grab something to eat. Don’t be timid” I said as I placed the glass of water in front of her and also one for me. As Joan grabbed one of the sandwiches and put it on the plate before her, I grabbed two and put some mayo inside them.
We were both silent, she seemed ashamed and I for my part didn’t want to force her into telling me anything she didn’t want to. “I don’t want to pressure you but I want to know if you’re okay, if he did something to you so I can help you in some way” I said, my hand approaching hers but not making contact, just leaving it close in case she needed it.
“I…” she started to speak but then shut her mouth. “We had a little discussion and it’s actually silly how affected I am by this, I’m so sorry” she then said, trying to get up.
“Hey, it’s not silly if it hurt you, if it made you upset, I’m here for you” I then put my hand closer and she made the move to finally grab mine in both of hers over her lap.
“I got home and he was just sitting in the living room, just drinking a glass of scotch and he asked me why I was so late, so I just said that I had been held by the producers. I didn’t mention your name, don’t worry” she said as she softly looked at me in the eyes and then averted her gaze elsewhere, like she was trying to reassure me in some way. “He wasn’t happy about that so he just approached me and asked me if I was being sincere. I of course said yes, but he wouldn’t stop saying I was lying and he got so mad” She continued, her voice getting softer and looking straight at the table, as if she didn’t want to say what happened because she was embarrassed. “I started raising my voice because he wasn’t letting me go to my bedroom, he stood in front of me every time I wanted to leave, but that seemed to anger him even more and he started screaming and when I tried to go past him, he…” She then stopped and grabbed my hand a little stronger. “He grabbed me by the arm so roughly and I felt like an idiot for letting him do this to me, to let him get into my brain so easily. So I got out of his grip and ran to my bedroom where I called you”.
“That bastard!” I whispered as I tried to inspect if his manhandling had left any visible sign. There was only some red on the skin of her wrist that would probably bruise a little with the passing of the days. Oh how bad I wanted to punch that swine in the face.
“He’s jealous of me being with someone else that isn’t him” Joan simply said. “His ego is hurt because I haven’t touched him since… he thinks I’m with someone else and that pains him” She corrected herself.
“Do you think he… Might suspect something? I mean us…” I asked, worried about what could happen if Phillip knew.
“No, not about us” Joan said, seeming uneased. “He thinks I’m sleeping around with other men, he even started asking names, like I would answer him” She said indignantly. “He doesn’t like that I’m not paying attention to him anymore, that he isn’t getting what he wants from me”.
“I’m so sorry you have to go through that. If I could I would give him what he deserves” I answered, full of rage for what she had to go through.
“I’m just so tired” She said as her eyes seemed to be holding back some tears.
“Everything will be alright” I said as I stood up caressing her back, but she turned around and engulfed me in a strong and needed hug. I stood still in her embrace and then I hugged her back. She stayed there, holding me tightly. Every second that passed I felt my shirt getting more wet with her tears, so I moved one of my hands to her hair and caressed her softly. “You’re here now. We’ll lay down, you can even take a shower if you want. What do you think?” I asked her.
“I’ll take a shower” She whispered softly and I nodded.
“Of course, come with me” I told her, grabbing her hand and going upstairs to my bedroom so she could shower in my ensuite. I showed her the bathroom, leaving a towel over the sink and showing her all the toiletries. She thanked me and started unbuttoning her blouse, and I took that as a hint to leave her there and go to the kitchen to prepare some tea for both of us.
After she finished I went upstairs again and left my cup of tea over the drawer in the hallway, then I knocked on her door and after I heard her approval I went in. She was sitting on my bed putting some cream on her face. “Where did that cream come from?” I asked curiously.
“I brought it with me, in case I was not going back” She replied without meeting my gaze.
“Oh that’s why, I didn’t know that. I thought that was mine,” I answered as I gave her the cup of tea.
“No, I wouldn’t sneak around your bathroom without asking, and I don’t like borrowing things, I feel like I’m taking advantage” She explained, grabbing the cup and leaving it on the bedside table.
“Okay” I muttered as I cleaned my sweaty hands on the fabric of my skirt, the atmosphere being too dense. “I’ll leave you now, you must be tired after this whole day”.
As I made my way to turn off the lights I heard her voice small and hesitant saying: “Can’t you stay here with me?”
“Oh, yes. I mean, I assumed you’d like to be left alone and I…”
“I’m tired of people assuming things for me” She spat a little agitated, her voice rising for a moment. “I’m tired… Tired of people thinking that I don’t deserve anything that I have, and hear again and again that I only got here because I slept with half the men in the studio. I’m exhausted that I have to prove my worth to everyone and that still, after years and years of trying, they still won’t respect me as I should be respected”.
“Joan, I’m not implying that …” I started saying but she cut me off once again.
“You do that too. I still remember what you said to me that day after the premiere” She recalled, her voice accusing but not high, showing how indignated she was. “Can you please just stop assuming and just ask me what I need, or just be here with me and for me” She finished her sudden rant as she lowered her head, exhausted by the abrupt explosion of feelings.
I was perplexed. I didn’t know what to say, because she was right. I did assume a lot of things about her in the past, but now it was another reality and I had to show her that. “I can, and I will. I’m sorry for assuming. I’ll start asking you what you need from now on” I assured as I made my way to turn off the lights. She was silent, and didn’t answer me back. She seemed more calm and less agitated, but a sorrowful look was adorning her face. “Can I lay down with you?”.
Joan nodded and layed down on her side looking at me. It surprised me how small she seemed at that moment, after seeing her always like a monument before my eyes, untouchable and enormous. This was another facet of Crawford that I haven’t seen before.
I layed down and just stared at her, with a gaze that asked for forgiveness, that showed that I was sorry for how I had hurt her in the past with my words and my acts. Never in a million years had I thought that I would be apologizing to Joan Crawford, but now, in front of her, after seeing her so fragile, all I could feel was ashamed of how badly I treated her. I had judged her harshly, and as a matter of fact, I had so many defects too. I had talked about another woman’s life, like I was an example of a perfect person. How shallow .
“I really am sorry” I whispered, afraid that my voice at a normal volume would scare her.
“I know, you would’ve never apologized if you weren’t” She answered looking at me deep in the eyes. She knew me so well . Then, she gave me a little and soft smile, whispering: “I forgive you, Bette”, and her voice saying my name had never seemed so tender and pure.
“Thank you” I retorted, mirroring her grin.
“No, thank you for your understanding and for opening the doors of your home to me when I needed it most” She said and laid her hand over mine on the mattress between our bodies.
“There is no need to thank me,” I answered.
“Let’s change the subject, shall we? I’m tired of feeling sad” She sighed, seeming a little overwhelmed.
“As you say, my lady” I looked at her as she softly laughed at my answer. “How has the filming of Mildred Pierce been?” I asked and she seemed genuinely surprised that I was asking her such things.
“You want me to…?” she asked and I nodded my head before she could finish her question. “Bette, it’s been so great. I really think that it’s the biggest opportunity that I’ve had in years. I’ve been waiting so long for this part” she started explaining, and you could see how seriously she took her job, and how much of a professional she was. Her smile was shining so bright as she told me how much she had enjoyed the filming and how she had bonded with the actress that played her daughter. She cared so much for others, and now that I was at the receiving end of that care, I could see that she wasn’t doing it for no reason, she just really cared for others and what they thought. She was invested in showing people how much they were worth to her. The only unfortunate thing was how Curtiz had underestimated her at first, even making her cry a couple of times. But it seemed now that he had grown fond of her.
We kept on talking for a while, shared stories from behind the scenes and a few party anecdotes. “Did you know what happened when I started at Universal, like my first day there?”
“No, what?”
“They were making a test for male actors. Listen to this: they put twelve men on a line. And they told me I had to kiss them all!” Both of us giggled. “Can you imagine? This little thing, who never kissed anyone, a puritan?! In five minutes, Hollywood was corrupting me!”
“A puritan?!” Even Joan seemed skeptical.
“Oh yes, I was raised almost like a nun. I even got married at twenty six and that was my first time having sex!”
Joan laughed hard, for the first time I saw her doing it carelessly, her head leaning back to cackle. I couldn't help doing it as well, my laughter was even more loud, never flattering at all but I never had cared.
When the room became rather silent, since my laughter had subsided, my eyes found her with a candid smile. “I adore your laugh!” She confessed and I mirrored her grin. I quickly found something else to talk about. And just like that the time passed by, chatting and gossiping about a few people we knew.
I didn’t know Joan could be this funny, oftentimes she didn’t seem to be the kind who could crack a few jokes. Her front was always too right for my liking, but I discovered that night that there was way more to Joan, or rather Lucille - As I found out that was her birth name - I could never have imagined it. Don’t judge a book by its cover , never felt so true.
I was a person who would show myself plainly for how I was. People could like it or not, that was their problem. But not Joan, she took her own time to uncover herself to someone, dropping her guard down when she was comfortable enough. I liked this side of her way more than the first impressions I had from her.
We got more and more comfortable in that bed, laying down as we talked. But both of us were so tired we fell asleep like that, without even noticing.
***
I stirred under the covers, sighing as I noticed something had woken me up. I squinted my eyes, finding the clock on my bedside table to check what time it was. When I saw it was 4 a.m, I rolled my eyes. I hated when this happened. I used to wake up early every day for a shooting, but when my body would get used to that schedule, I would even get woken up on my own on weekends.
I left the clock back where it was, turning around on my mattress. Eyes closed tightly, trying to sleep again. But then I felt the fragrance of her perfume, and I opened them again to see Joan’s sleepy and serene face beside me.
It was still dark outside, but the moonlight was casting a faint light on the room, letting me observe her in a calmness that I never had the opportunity before. Her skin always looked so radiant, that I’m sure any woman would envy it if they could see it up close like I did.
Her freckles were everywhere, that I don’t think I could have enough time to count them all, but they were scattered around her face like the autumn leaves in October. I could see her natural eyelashes, which were pretty enough without any of those falsies she often used on herself. Her natural lips without any lipstick on, still called me, like it was special for me to feel them on me, au natural . Her sculpted nose was practically perfect, I wondered how it felt to have acquired such beauty naturally. For sure she had been lucky with her genetics. I noticed her small lines that were forming thanks to the univetable aging. They were mostly around her cheek, where her small dimples would show when she smiled brightly. At least the joy had left a mark on her face.
I was so hypnotized by the view that was in front of me, that it took me a couple of seconds to realize she was stirring, slowly opening her blue eyes who quickly were on me. I was unable to look elsewhere, getting caught in the moment.
It should have been weird, as a matter of fact it was. But she didn’t make me feel like it was. On the contrary, it felt normal. The slumber on her face was almost adorable in a way. “What time is it?” Her voice sounded small and also hoarse after sleeping for so many hours.
“It’s uh- 4 a.m.” I mumbled, accommodating myself again in my spot, putting my head on top of the pillow. I stared at the ceiling as my heart started to beat more than usual. Strange . “Sorry if I woke you up” I whispered faintly.
I don't know why, but now it was a totally different atmosphere than earlier before we fell asleep. I had the feeling that the walls were smaller and smaller than before. It all came down to one moment: just when I felt her hands under the covers, caressing me on top of my pajamas, on my warm belly.
I visibly swallowed as she got on her sides, placing her body right next to mine, making contact. She put her chin on top of my shoulder, and I felt her hot breath on my neck and ear. My heart was undoing my chest when I felt her hand moving slowly down my body, getting painfully close to the area where I was feeling the most heat.
Her sneaky, manicured fingers got inside of my silk pants, reaching my underwear to make sure she had me on the edge. And she did, and she knew it very well. I was already aroused by her seductive moves. When she touched me there, I suddenly stared at her, turning my head towards her. The vampress then kissed me, in a slow but heated way that she had never done before. It wasn’t rushed like it always was. Finally I was aware this was not a dressing room, nor a car. It was a bedroom, an intimate place. My bed. Where we could be relaxed, not fearing what might happen, if anyone would catch us, or even… Hear us.
Then, I felt myself lose my tension, getting lost in her lips, that well known contact I was used to but that didn’t mean I was ever satisfied. I always wanted more. She must have been reading my mind, because she got on top of me, her thighs on each side.
As she sat on top of me, she stared at me profoundly. I stared back, cautiously observing every single one of her movements. She took her hands to the hem of the negligee I had given her, to lift it up carefully and reveal her body to me. I should have known she wasn't wearing any underwear, but it wasn’t a surprise.
Her sultry eyes were sensual, just like her lips which were defying me in a faint smirk I could visualize in the darkness. She never had to say much to be seductive, she could be alluring with the smallest gesture.
Her body didn’t need any description, I already knew it… Almost like the back of my hand. And everytime it was on full display for me, I knew it was something that was worthy of a museum; a painting perhaps. But then, my natural reaction was to mutter, almost like a faint whisper: “You’re so beautiful”
I don’t know where that came from, but I was in a trance that left me no choice but to say that, like it was a given. Then I realized that I had never told her something like that before, and I felt myself flush under the surprised but pleased expression on her divine face.
Before anything else could be said, her lips were on me, Kissing me deep and with intention, making me shudder for a second. I would get that sensation everytime she would devour me with a desire no one had shown for me before.
Her hands worked fast, opening the shirt of my pajamas and taking off my pants so quickly that I hardly noticed until her hands were on my skin again. Quickly I was as naked as her. The experience made me feel I was in bed with an erotic enchantress who was ready to devour me.
As she positioned herself on top of me, after leaving my lips, I realized that her hair was down. It was the first time I had seen her like that, her curls wild, almost resembling a red haired halo.
It was fascinating that she could show herself like a bourgeois dame in public, at the studios, and in front of the camera. But when it came to the bed, Joan transformed herself into an a sex goddess that knew every single trick to make anyone reach their maximum pleasure.
I was in a daze, letting her do whatever she wanted. Her delicate fingers traveled around my skin, grabbing my thighs smoothly, as she positioned herself. Our legs intertwined as our sensitive places met each other. I sighed as she started to move against me, that delicious contact that soon I had become almost obsessed with.
Her legs were unreal as I caressed them, having the privilege to touch every inch of them. But then, I felt that I owned them, gripping them like my life depended on it as I felt that stimulating thrill on my body. The heat was so present between us, that I felt myself getting warmer and warmer as that addicting pleasure penetrated me.
Her little sounds of ecstasis started to grow, and I didn’t hold back either. We were free to lose ourselves inside of my room, free to make each other moan in complete satisfaction.
In these moments I would feel as if in another dimension, especially with her. I let my guard down more and more, surrendering myself to her. I couldn't fight the want , the desire . Tonight she made me hers, but somehow it felt different to our previous encounters. Our hands expressed more than normal, our mouths sighed and moaned uncontrollably, our eyes met intensely as we reached our high.
I was hypnotized by her body, her voice, her fragrance, her sultry gaze… I was lost in her world.
Notes:
Oh wow, gay.
Thank you Dem for editing! <3
Chapter 10: Private Affair
Summary:
The sunlight that came from the windows of my kitchen highlighted her freckles. There wasn’t a trail of makeup on her face, and I was oddly glad for it. This was the ‘homey’ version of Joan, and it fit her so well that for a moment you could forget she was a glamorous movie star. A housewife. But not for him it seemed.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
February 1945 :
It should have been awkward but it wasn’t, and that was what had striked me at first. The way we wake up together, with nothing on either of us, with just our naked skin barely covered by the soft sheets. The way she flirted, and teased as she walked around like that, with no concern at all about me observing her body. The way she put on the robe and then kissed me good morning, with a radiant smile. She looked completely different from last night. We even got ready together in the bathroom, next to each other. It was natural.
Joan was asking for more and more physical contact, I noticed. Grabbing me by the waist, looking for an excuse to hug me softly, leaving a playful kiss on my neck… She was just delighted since the early morning. Almost floating as she walked around my home.
She wasn’t ashamed anymore it seemed, feeling at ease, being more comfortable around me. Like the night before when she had opened the door even though she was scared to, revealing her secrets to me. Letting her guard down. She even asked me if she could make the breakfast for us, and in just a matter of minutes, she was in the kitchen with an apron on, her hair up, whisking up eggs.
I sat upon a stool, as I smoked, observing her while she cooked. The sunlight that came from the windows of my kitchen highlighted her freckles. There wasn’t a trail of makeup on her face, and I was oddly glad for it. This was the ‘homey’ version of Joan, and it fit her so well that for a moment you could forget she was a glamorous movie star. A housewife. But not for him it seemed.
Soon the food was ready, the smell of bacon and eggs felt so welcoming. When I tasted it, my approval was immediate. She was quite a good cook, and her small proud smile showed her to be somewhat giddy too. Joan wanted to impress me, like she always did. It had been a while since I’d felt so important to someone. It was like she always appreciated anything I had to say, treasuring if I said something positive about her.
“Where did you learn how to cook?” I asked after drinking some orange juice.
“I learned by myself, picking up some tips and advice from other women as I grew up.” Even the way she ate in front of me was refined, you would think she was a blue-blooded dame. I, on the other hand, didn’t really care how I looked when I ate. If a girl is hungry, you forget who’s next to you.
“Your mom didn’t teach you?” I asked naturally, used to my own experiences.
Although she tried to conceal it her face turned kinda somber when I broached that subject. “No, me and my mom… We weren’t that close, she never really cared for me, I always had to do everything on my own since I was pretty young…” That explained a lot. I could see the masked pain in her eyes, behind the serious expression on her face. But soon she seemed to realize how the atmosphere had changed and because of that, quickly changed the subject. I wasn’t going to budge on that matter, I didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable. “Anyways, I think there’s not much time left before we are wrapping up the filming of Mildred Pierce… And I was wondering…”
“Yes?” I raised my brows, curious to what her intentions were.
“I know this is a few months ahead but… I would really love to see you in the premiere. Would you be able to make it? There’s no one else I would like to see that night other than you…” Joan - Or rather Lucille - grabbed my hand, her voice and gaze pretty hopeful, almost tender after asking that.
The sincerity, the look on her face, the softness in her voice, made it almost impossible for me to say no. “I think I could…” After all, she wasn’t asking me to bring the moon to her, but for her that gesture seemed so important.
“Promise?” A small smile appeared on her pearly white teeth, filled with illusion.
“Sure…” I nodded again, I wouldn't say anything that I didn’t mean. Joan was delighted when she heard that, and I smiled slightly as I observed her eating now with an evident joy in her.
She was organized from the moment she started to cook, until the moment she cleaned the dishes. Of course, she didn’t let me touch anything. “It’s the least thing I could do after what you did for me,” she said, and I let her be. After all, it looked like she enjoyed doing the housework.
Soon after that she grabbed her stuff, since she had to go back home. She didn’t seem that keen in doing so, I could see it in her demeanor. I could always read right through her.
“Well, I have to go. I guess we’ll see each other on Monday” She announced as we stood in front of the door, before I even opened it. Of course, the Canteen .
“See you on Monday” A cab was waiting for her outside. But Joan seemed hesitant to leave as she grabbed her purse tightly. I was about to say something else but she cut it before I could mutter anything. Her lips on mine, to be more precise. Since that wake-up-kiss, she had been avoiding doing it again. It was like she couldn't find the right excuse to kiss me, until now.
Joan grabbed me by the jaw, and brought me closer to her. It was short but it was worth it, every second. I sensed something in the way her soft lips made contact with mine, they were trying to tell me something. That kiss had something else other than desire, it had affection… A ton of affection.
Then it hit me. She was expressing something other than a capricious fling, she was demonstrating her love to me.
I was left with no air when she parted ways, leaving me starstruck in front of her. Her cheeky smile - which looked almost straight out of one of her romantic movies with Gable - said goodbye to me as she quickly opened the door and left my home. Although, her perfume stayed with me for some time.
***
That fragrance, which reminded me of a garden in spring, would disappear in time, and I wished she would leave my mind as easily as that.
I started to feel uneasy that day, on edge. It was impossible for me not to recall the events of the night before. I knew she needed my help, and I wasn’t going to regret giving it to her. But things had changed, and increased to a different level than what we were accustomed to, and that was what had me worried.
Our affair had begun due to a need, for the physical desire, the sexual frustration, the tension between us that translated itself into sex. We had been avoiding for some time that something else could happen as a result of it.
I was the one that invited her in, I know. But I didn't expect us to open up like this, to share these intimate moments, to use my bed for other things rather than sleeping… And she woke up right next to me, hugging me, kissing me, combing my hair, to later treat me with some breakfast. Like it was a common thing, any other day of a routine - a routine that didn’t exist -. How can something feel so natural but at the same time, surreal?
What did I really want from this? What was I looking for? The sex was easy, it always was with her. She could take you to so many places, and make you feel so many different sensations, giving you the night of your life but… Was this becoming something more than that?
It was fun to play around, and have the lovers' type of adventure. To sneak out, to know you were doing something forbidden, and with a woman that I swore was my enemy. Intriguing, but it was hell of a ride.
How long could it last? How long could we maintain it until something happened? Not only that but, Joan seemed to be showing other interests than I didn't anticipate. Although last night she was feeling hesitant and sometimes shy, this morning she demonstrated something else. That she enjoyed us being this close, this personal. Everything unraveled so fast, that I went with the flow and didn't question what we were doing.
I hated to overthink, to waste my time on something that was going to torment me. I was an impulsive person, I should’ve stuck to my guns and stopped this nonsense. But, no one was going to change me, no man, no woman and certainly not an affair with Joan Crawford.
So I decided to spend the rest of the day with my mother and the family. Later that night I went to the Canteen and helped them out. I finished my evening dancing with my dear friend John. I even danced with a soldier who was thrilled by having the opportunity to have a piece with me. That boy’s joy made my day.
After the hard work, giggles and a couple of drinks I went back home. Once I was back on my bed I sighed with a small smile, feeling content for being able to enjoy these small moments. They were a little reminder, a reward after years of hard work. To bring happiness to an unknown person with the smallest gesture, could be so fulfilling.
As I accommodated myself on my pillow, I closed my eyes serenely. Suddenly her perfume invaded my senses, reminding me of the fact that she had slept on this same bed last night. My eyes opened as that sweet aroma seemed to bring her presence back to me. Her divine figure, her moans, her gaze. My skin remembered so well her touch in the darkness, and I began to get goosebumps all over my body. I tried to shake off that feeling, stirring myself on that mattress, closing my eyes tightly to fall asleep.
It doesn’t mean a thing , I repeated to myself, again and again. Unfortunately that didn’t help much.
***
“Jack, you gotta give me something else to do than this crap!” I recriminated the head of the Warner Studios. He sighed, not happy seeing me complain for the millionth time since we’d met. I had dropped the script of a terrible movie on his desk.
“You didn’t like that one? It’s not that bad…” He was so used to my complaints that he wasn’t fazed by my discontent.
“Oh come on, you know that’s not a character for me. I’m not the pretty, dainty, lady in distress to play that part and you know it!” I smoked my cigarette brusquely, exhaling the nicotine in annoyance as my left hand was posing on my hip.
“Alright, but I don’t have that much more to offer than these three scripts.” He opened the drawer of his desk, to retrieve some scripts and offer them to me. I grabbed them and barely looked at their titles.
“A Stolen Life?” I asked frowning, curious but not that hopeful.
“A story about two twins that swap places…” Warner explained lazyly and I was rolling my eyes, sighing. “Don’t do that now, give them a chance and read them… Remember what happened the last time you did that…”
Yes, I know. Gone With The Wind. What a terrible mistake . “Alright”
“Oh by the way… We have a problem Bette.” Out of nowhere, he seemed to remember something crucial but he mentioned it like it was nothing.
“What problem?” I frowned, and I have to say, a tad anxious.
“Hedda Hopper might post an article soon, and I want to hear the truth from you…” Oh no, what does this bitch have to say now ?
“What article…” I questioned bravely, but fearful on the inside.
“Well according to the information she got, the article is about Joan Crawford trying to get into your pants , something about sending flowers…” I tried to control myself, exhaling the smoke as my heart beat in desperation. Instead of showing him the true nature of those rumors, I laughed out loud to pretend otherwise.
“That’s ridiculous!” Those two Oscars came in handy.
“Well, I know what kind of a woman Joan is, I’ve heard so many stories that I’m not quite sure about how authentic this is. But I trust your word, tell me if there’s anything I should know…” I knew where he was coming from, and I understood his worry.
“There’s nothing,” I insisted rapidly. “We were just trying to be civil Jack. Remember you asked me to behave for the filming of Hollywood Canteen? Well, I did. She sometimes likes to think she’s my friend or something, she’s got it mixed up… That’s why she might send flowers, but other than that…”
“Well, alright. That’s good to know. Anyways, I might pay Hedda off, I’m not up to dealing with any scandal. God! Crawford hasn’t released a movie yet and I haven’t got money to lose on her anyways…” He sounded quite tired about the issue.
“Maybe you should wait. You’re a smart man Jack, that’s why you brought her here in the first place…” I told him soothingly. “Well, I’ll look through these. I’ll phone you in case I make a decision” He nodded in response and soon after that I left his office.
As I was about to leave, I remembered I had left a couple of books and my knitting kit in my dressing room. I didn’t know when I was going to be back at the Studios, so since I was there, I decided to get my stuff.
It was Tuesday, a very calm morning as I walked in my private room. Or the office, if you could put it in another way. I collected my books, and then my knitting. The sweater I was trying to do was halfway done, and I couldn't just leave it here, I had to finish it before winter ended. So that I could at least wear it.
I grabbed the half part of the sweater I was making, measuring it as I placed it in front of me. I looked at my reflection as I modeled it. As I did that, I couldn't help but remember what Warner told me at that office. I knew he would take care of the problem, as he would often do with other scandals. But I still felt uneasy about it. I also wondered who gave Hedda the information. Well, cockroaches were everywhere. I hope there wasn’t anything else that could put me in a compromising situation. I couldn't ruin my career because of it.
Then, I heard a knock. “Who is it?” I asked out loud. That seemed to give Joan the confirmation to get inside of my dressing room. I was taken aback when I saw her, my mind was too fogged with thoughts lately.
She looked to be filming a scene, since her hair was perfectly done, as well as her makeup. Her tailored blouse and skirt were beautiful. “Darling!” She exclaimed with a gleeful smile to quickly approach me and kiss me briefly on the lips.
I was so stunned by her presence that I dropped my knitting. When that contact ended, Joan bent down to pick up my creation. “Be careful dear… Oh is this for you?” She asked, grinning once again as she observed my sweater.
“Yes I’m halfway done…” I mumbled almost shyly.
“I’m knitting a scarf… Would you like to have it?” Her eyes were on me now, sounding illusioned by the idea.
“Well, Don’t you think that would be a risky move?” I questioned, as I realized what that implied.
“Risky?” She frowned, her excitement now masked by the confusion.
“Well, you gave me something that you knitted on set… that could fuel the rumors which Warner told me about…” I tried to reason with her.
“Oh that article… Jack will take care of it! And you don’t need to wear it here, you could use it at home…” She said nonchalantly, disregarding the issue like it was nothing.
“Home?” What was the point of using a scarf inside ?
“Well… Yes. I mean, I wanted to give you something…” Sometimes she seemed to act like a shy schoolgirl. She then left my knitting on the couch to look back at me. “... Especially after what you did for me…” She deepened her voice, making my knees weak.
I blinked several times, as I tried to stand still. “That’s alright Joan, I didn’t do it to get anything back…” My voice sounded calmer too.
“I know darling…” Her arms were around my neck now, bringing me closer to her. Goosebumps. “I’m just so grateful for that gesture…” Again, her lips were on mine, and I kissed her back. I would always lose myself when we were like this. I grabbed her tightly by the waist, closing the distance between us, feeling the heat of her body against mine. She moaned at the touch.
Once again, I felt the intensity of Joan’s kisses, those which could make you dizzy from what they were trying to express. Once again I couldn’t help to notice how this was getting out of hand, and I didn’t know how to manage it. She was making me fall into this wild ride, where I wasn’t able to be in control. She was the one who was in charge, and that was making me unsure of what we were doing. Joan was used to this. I was scared, even if I didn’t admit it to her yet.
The article came to my mind, and that surely made me flinch in realization. That startled Joan as well, but before I could say anything, she exclaimed: “Oh the shooting, gotta go to the set!”
“Right…” I mumbled nervously, and shaken by that heated contact as she quickly checked herself on the mirror of my vanity, worried about how her makeup looked. She fixed her makeup rapidly as the pro that she was, it amazed me.
“Does it look alright?” She turned around, showing off the angles of her flawless face.
“Yes” I agreed, overwhelmed by the situation. I was about to fan myself as I felt my entire body warm.
“You didn’t come to the Canteen yesterday…” Joan sounded kind of disappointed by that. For some reason I prefered to stay at home after the confusion that had invaded me.
“No, I stayed at home reading scripts…” Which was true.
“Oh… Well, I missed you…” Her eyes on the reflection of the mirror were in anticipation, waiting for me to say something else.
I didn’t reply back immediately. I don’t know what was going on with me but my words barely came out from my mouth. “I missed you too…” I didn’t even know what I had said or why I said it. Did I miss her?
She beamed, seeming glad at hearing that. She turned, questioning with excitement: “When will I see you again?”
“Well, I-...” She quickly took a look at her watch, her eyes widening at seeing the time.
“Dammit, I gotta go. Let me know when, darling…” I nodded, dumbfounded as I followed her with my gaze to the door. “It’s a pity I got to go, I was about to get on my knees…” I coughed in surprise, immediately picturing in my head the scene she had implied. Oh god . “See you later my dear…” Her coquettish smile was so bright, sending me a wink before she left the room.
What was I doing? I felt the small space spinning around. I sat down, feeling disoriented. I felt at the edge of disaster. I was too aware now of what could happen if we were caught, not only that but for Joan… This was more than an affair …
And I was right.
Notes:
Hello! Thank you for reading! Huge thanks to Dem for editing <3
Chapter 11: One, Two, Three… Smile!
Summary:
“That’s a million-dollar picture!” Albert Warner exclaimed, as he stood beside the photographers, smoking a cigar, too satisfied with the scene. When I least expected, the flashes startled me, and I had to pose before I would embarrass myself. I knew this picture was going to be printed in the newspapers.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
March 1945:
As he promised, Jack Warner took care of the problem, and no article came out. Needless to say, I was relieved. But that didn’t stop the worry. I was too aware of my surroundings, and I was even still trying to figure out who snitched.
I don’t know what came over me these past months but me and Joan had been playing in a game that could take us very easily to the end of our careers. The realization of how dangerous this affair could be, made me step back and try to see it cold mindedly.
The risks we were taking could put me and her in the ruins. I couldn't let that happen, never. Acting was my life, and I’ve always taken it so seriously. It was my identity, it was all I’d been fighting for, all of these years. After all the sacrifices I’ve been through, I couldn't let myself slip and fall, all because of a fling .
Not only that but, things were going in another direction that I didn’t expect, but I should have been smarter about it. I knew Joan had other feelings, although she hadn’t admitted them to me. But I could sense it from our last encounters. And I didn’t know how to take that, I was too overwhelmed by her.
Slowly, I started to drift apart from her. Sometimes unconsciously, sometimes deliberately. I was back to my old routine: avoiding going to the Studios and not going to the Canteen on Mondays. I spent my days reading the new scripts, seeing a few friends, getting away from Hollywood and going to my beach house when I could.
After the second Monday I was absent from the Canteen, that Tuesday, John had told me something as we washed the dishes.
“Something strange happened yesterday…” He mentioned as he dried the plates.
“Really? What?” I questioned eagerly, getting ready to possibly listen to interesting gossip that was going around the Canteen.
“Joan Crawford asked for you…” I panicked internally as I scrubbed the dishes harder. My mind worked fast, trying to make up something that would cover up the real nature of our relationship. Well, you couldn't even call it that .
“See? I try to be kind to her and she makes it seem like we are best friends!” I sounded nonchalantly, with a tint of amusement.
“Is that why you don’t come here on Mondays again?” My friend asked, intrigued.
“Well, yes…” John stared at me for a while, a confused gaze was still plastered on his face. “What’s the matter?” I asked, raising a brow, and trying not to show how worried I was on the inside. I hope he doesn’t suspect a thing .
“I don’t know… You should have seen her face… She seemed to be… concerned? And that’s what I thought was strange…” John tried to explain to me what had intrigued him, gesturing with his hands without looking at any particular spot ahead of him, just reflecting on it with confusion. I was wondering in my mind how that was, imagining how she must have looked by his description. The water slipped through my fingers, rinsing down the soap, as for a moment I dozed off.
But I shouldn't think about it, so I resumed my task and replied to him. “Well, how could I know what’s troubling the Crawfish?” I tried to put up a façade, acting like I would have done months ago. What a better way than to return to those days when I would make fun of her? I was nervous, and I couldn't help but raise my voice a bit. John blinked surprised and I deflated. “Sorry…”
But for my luck, Ida Lupino appeared, to greet us and we started a friendly chat with her. Thankfully, the matter was soon forgotten and I had escaped that compromising situation.
Later that night, as I came back to my Beverly Hills home, I noticed a package was waiting for me at the door. I grabbed it before entering, frowning at not seeing a remittent. As I locked my front door, it hit me. It should be from her. Joan used to send stuff without her name on it.
I quickly headed to the nearest sofa, where I sat down and turned on the lamp beside it. I ripped the paper that was wrapped around the item. It was a simple white box that I carefully opened, taking my time. There was a small envelope, and a black knitted scarf. I took it out from there, examining it under the light. I swallowed as I stared at it. The wool felt so soft to the touch, that it even made me wonder where she bought hers to make such a beautiful creation.
I was so used to receiving gifts, but rarely would I get something that was made with the giver’s own hands. I knew this scarf took time and affection to make.
I knew she made it between takes, at the set. I had heard before that she uses knitting as a way of hiding from moments that could make her nervous, or in other cases, shy. Sometimes she even did it at parties, making people believe she was too stuck up to hang out with them. But it wasn’t ever the case, I noticed. She lacked confidence, almost from time to time seeming to be an introvert. Although on screen she had an enviable presence, behind the cameras, it was hard for her to put up the same front.
I left the scarf on my lap to then open the small envelope. It had only a card that said:
“ Hope you like it.
I miss you darling. JC ”
I swallowed as I read it, not knowing how to react to her gestures. It was all too intense for me, or at least I felt under pressure. I quickly put everything inside of the box and closed it roughly, desperately grabbing a cigarette. After I lit it, I inhaled the nicotine that my system needed.
I stared at that box, reflecting about what the object really meant. I think I would have received it gladly and would be flattered if it was another occasion, if it was another situation.
Me and her, hadn’t a chance. I didn’t know why she was acting delusionally like this. As if we were fifteen year old girlfriends. We weren’t just any normal women who could do whatever they wanted without receiving any consequences. Anyone could find out what we were doing, we were in the public eye all the time. And for better or for worse, we had an enormous influence on the people.
It was so easy to be on the top, and it was as easy to fall too. Wasn’t she seeing this? Did she really think me and her could have a durable relationship?
As a matter of fact, she was like a bee, going from flower to flower. Like all of her lovers. Why would I entangle myself with her? I should've realized before that I could be easily discarded in a blink of an eye. I must have one of the names she wanted to add to her long list. When I least expected I was finishing out my cigarette, crushing it down on the ashtray in a hurry. I grabbed the package and walked rapidly throughout my house, heading to the kitchen. I stood in front of the trash can, and considered throwing it away. Joan was a person who seemed sometimes that she was buying people with gifts, and it was hard to take them genuinely.
But after a few conflicting seconds, I decided against it. Instead I saved it in my closet, on the top shelf where the hat boxes were. There’s where it should be. And I wouldn't reach out to her. Better be safe than be sorry.
***
A week later I received an invitation via phone call from Albert Warner. "Bette, we'll be having a cocktail party at the California Hotel on Saturday. I'm expecting to see you there, I’ve got an interesting work proposition I would like to discuss with you. There's going to be a few journalists, so get ready. Oh and wear black, that's the dress code!".
Was this a funeral ? I thought to myself as I chuckled, searching through my wardrobe for what I could wear. I ended up opting for a black short sleeved dress that was cinched at the waist which I surprisingly ended up liking.
I was looking forward to this event, and something told me they had prepared a good role for me. And not only that, but Olivia was coming with me. We were going to have a ball together.
I picked her up and we showed up at the event together. We entered smiling and laughing between each other, and soon encountered a few of our fellow friends, actors, producers. Obviously, we had some drinks, we gossiped around, and chatted with them as we had a marvelous time.
At some point, a warm smile appeared, which belonged to a well known middle aged man, just right next to me. It was Jean Hersholt, the president of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. Naturally we greeted each other immediately and started a conversation. “This might be over soon…” He commented, referring to the war. “But I want to thank you again for your efforts at the Canteen.” Now that I had thought about it, the Canteen might disappear as well when the conflict ends. Somehow that saddened me. Of course I was glad to hear we were close to ending the war but I was so accustomed to that precious bar that I was going to miss it.
We kept talking with Jean for a little longer, at first about the latest projects, but later about ourselves. “I think it would be nice if we took a picture to remember this day…” Come to think of it, we never had one together so it felt right to take advantage of the amount of cameras that we had around.
“Sure!” I agreed with a smile, following him afterwards where the journalists and photographers were.
“Miss Davis, here!” Those men yelled behind the cameras. Sometimes they were like vicious animals.
“Wait!” Jean suddenly said. “I’ll bring another friend I wanted to take a picture with…” And as soon as he said that, he disappeared. At first I thought he was going to bring Olivia, but he went to the opposite side of the huge ballroom we were in.
I was fixing my dress as I waited, looking down when finally Jean came back and said. “Now, we can take the picture.” I raised my gaze to find Joan beside him. I swallowed, quickly trying to soften my expression. She was smiling brightly as she always did, with a cigarette in her hand. Her eyes gleamed when she spotted me. Obviously, she was all dolled up, big curls in her hair, her usual makeup on, and even though she tried to blend in, her black dress had a huge white flower on her waist. It seemed she couldn't help but draw attention to herself.
I hadn't seen her until then, I didn’t know she was even invited to the event. I should have guessed it . But then I heard a known voice that made me take my eyes off her. “That’s a million-dollar picture!” Albert Warner exclaimed, as he stood beside the photographers, smoking a cigar, too satisfied with the scene. When I least expected, the flashes startled me, and I had to pose before I would embarrass myself. I knew this picture was going to be printed in the newspapers.
I tried to ignore her presence, but I knew her hand on Jean’s back was pretty close to mine as well, and that gave me shivers on my arms. I don’t know how many pictures they took, but I just wanted it to end.
I couldn't help but think this situation was strange when I stared at Albert. Something was up, I could feel it. And I won't let it just pass.
“That’s alright for now… I’ll let these ladies go” Jean then kindly said, my eyes avoiding Joan’s. Instead, they were directed towards that Warner brother.
“I’ll see you around Jean” I mumbled before I stomped towards the man who was acting strangely. Soon I was standing like a wildcat trying to figure out his motives. “What are you up to?”
“Me? I’m just doing my job Bette” I squinted my eyes in suspicion.
“What’s behind all of this?” I tilted my head, pointing towards the journalists.
“Nothing that complex really…” He inhaled his cigar, exhaling the smoke to his side. “I told you I had a job offer, remember?”
“Yes, I remember” My shoulders dropped, feeling I should calm a bit, knowing damn well I should behave. Maybe this clown could get me a good part.
“Well, this is just a test. I wanted a picture of you two together, and see what kind of response the audience could have when they see you and her in the papers” My eyes were opened wide when I realized his intentions.
“You mean you want me and her..?” My voice was full of incredulity, baffled by the idea.
“Yes, to star in a movie together. Ethan Frome . We own the rights, and Joan has been asking to star in that one with you…” He quickly confirmed it, but to him it seemed like the most obvious and natural thing in the world.
“That’s out of the question!” I didn’t think about my impertinent reply, I just knew that would be a mess, chaos. It would make everything worse.
“What’s the trouble? Do you have any idea how successful a movie could be if I had you two starring in it?” All I could see in his eyes were dollar signs. That's why he liked this insane little project, all for the money. And I knew it would sell too, but at what costs?
“But… It wouldn't work, we are totally different actresses…” I tried to prove a point, hiding my real reasons why I would oppose such a project in the first place.
“That’s the entertaining part of it Bette!” God, he won’t get it. But fortunately, I wasn’t obliged to take any script that I didn’t like. Well, for now at least.
“Good evening” Her deep voice startled me, as Joan made her presence. “Albert, would you mind if I take her from you for a minute?” Suddenly her right arm grabbed mine, making me flinch slightly. I had to suppress my tense mood in front of him.
“Sure Joan, go ahead” I saw the mocking smile on Albert’s face before we left, I’m sure he was so pleased to get rid of me. Joan guided me through the crowd. Immediately I felt too self aware of what this appearance could mean to everyone. Or maybe it was all in my head.
But Crawford seemed to know what to do. She always did. At least that is what she projected. “Oh I have to give you the number of my stylist that I told you about!” She started talking to me, making up a fake scenario where we were good friends who were sharing a nice conversation. It wasn’t exaggerated, nor was it too subtle. Joan was good at pretending in front of others. So although people were surprised to see us together like this, it wasn’t too extravagant for them to give us that much attention.
That’s how, intelligently and seemingly, she made us get away from the public eye. I followed her act. I didn’t know what else I could do but that. When I was with her, my quick wit would disappear, I would soften up with her, and I didn’t like that. It wasn’t me .
Joan had taken me to a desolate balcony, which was far away from the party, and dark enough that people wouldn’t notice us that easily. She closed the windows rapidly too, giving me an indication she was going to talk about something serious. My hands were sweaty.
I stood against the cold cement, grabbing the handrail for support. My heart was trying to undo my chest for some reason and I just despised putting myself in these situations. And I wanted to believe only she was responsible for this, but I knew at some point this was going to happen. I had to take charge in this at some point. Guess now it’s time.
When she closed the windows, she turned around her eyes gazing at me softly but shyly at the same time. “Darling… What’s going on?” Her gentle voice now started the conversation.
“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to sound firm and oblivious.
“You’re avoiding me, I know… But I want to know why…” Her voice sounded so small as she left her spot, getting closer for a moment and then stopping herself. We were walking on eggshells.
Well, I guess it’s time to talk about this “I don’t think you have realized how dangerous this game we are playing is… We could be at the edge of ruining our careers!” I decided to go straight to the point, telling her my biggest fear. But I made sure that I sounded stern.
“Bette, that won’t happen, Jack took care of Hedda…” Joan looked down for a moment, sounding firm as well. She looked up, slightly hopeful about the matter.
“That’s today, but what about tomorrow? What about those articles we can’t control?” I showed her my point, trying to make her see this was no child's play.
“They always ask for money first, that’s all those journalists care about, we can’t let them control our lives…” But she made her point too. Still, it was too dangerous, too careless for my liking.
“I won’t take the risk, you hear me?!” I made myself clear, my eyes blinking rapidly and with a serious intention.
Then, Joan’s face fell. Her eyebrows up, her voice fearful. “What do you mean?” I could notice how her fingers were fidgety, as she moved them restlessly.
“I won’t let a fling destroy everything that I’ve worked for…” It’s like I had put myself in this invisible armor, to go against the current and fight for my own survival. Even if that meant bad news to someone else.
“You think this is just a fling ?” She frowned, somehow shocked by what I was expressing, wide-eyed.
“Joan… It never was meant to be anything else but that” I knew that this wasn’t true, we never spoke about it. It was never discussed, at all.
The woman in front of me looked conflicted, and somewhat annoyed by my sudden change of perspective. “So you decided it just like that? Won't you consider how I feel about it?” Well, she was right about that.
“You’ll thank me for it…” I excused myself with that.
Joan’s eyes couldn't be even more wide open than now “Thank you?! For hurting me?!” Joan pointed to her chest. She sounded bewildered.
“Hurting you?” Now I was the one frowning at her, thinking she was being too dramatic.
“Ugh, you’re so blind, you can’t see what’s right in front of you. Your selfishness won’t let you see…” I tensed up when I heard that, her voice showing disappointment at me.
“You’re stepping over the line Crawford…” I was trying to get back to that old Bette again, the one who didn’t care about her, who would try to bring her down with her words.
“Am I? I care about that as much as you do about how I feel . You knew I always liked you, that’s why I always tried to get your attention, beggin’ you to give me a chance…” Joan, or maybe Lucille just appeared in the conversation, as her voice softened up. A voice I knew too well. “And ever since you did that afternoon in my dressing room, I couldn't stop myself from falling into your charm” Slowly she stepped closer to me. Close enough that I could feel the heat of her body, her fragrance and her overwhelming presence. “You were even more fascinating than what I thought, Bette. I feel I can lose myself when I’m with you, that I can be me. That I can be free . We can understand each other with a gaze, and you know that’s true… I don’t know what’s gotten into you but you know what we have is… beautiful .” I averted my gaze, trying to avoid her eyes. She knew what she was doing, she had the power to influence me with those blue sapphires. I couldn’t let her. “...And I don’t want to lose it Bette, you must know how I feel about you…”
She then grabbed me by the jaw softly, making me face her. When I met her deep blue eyes, she seemed to be on the brink of tears. “... I know this is not the right time or place to say it, but you need to know it… I… Love you”
She dropped those words taking me aback, I froze in my spot, unable to know what to do or say to such strong words directed at me. It couldn't be, how could she love me? But I knew her, she was telling the truth, she was being raw in front of me. That’s what struck me.
I didn’t feel the same way as her, and I knew that I couldn't let this thing continue. But even though I knew what I had to do, it was hard when I saw how hopeful her eyes were as she waited for my response to her heartfelt confession.
I had to push myself to be rational, to do the logical thing. “Joan, it was just sex.” It pained me to even say those words, although I convinced myself I shouldn't feel anything towards her. I observed in that exact moment how that hit her heart, her sorrowful face said it all. The incredulity in her eyes was too painful, even for me. It was like she couldn't believe the ‘Bette’ that was in front of her.
“I don’t believe you” She muttered, holding on to her tears as much as she could, I knew she wouldn't let herself break down in front of me, not at this moment.
“Believe whatever you want…” I said before I made my brusque exit, taking her hands off my face. But she tried to stop me.
“Bette… BETTE!” She called after me, raising her voice the second time she named me. But it was too late. I wasn’t going to go back. It was done, it was over for me.
Notes:
Happy Pride Month everyone! Let's wait and see what's going to happen in the next chapter...
Thank you dear Dem for editing! <3
Chapter 12: Mildred Pierce Pt. 1
Summary:
The feeling of something that was still lurking in the back of my mind, haunted me. Joan was still there, as an old and distant memory. But the curious part wasn't either of those things, it was that from time to time she would pop into my head. Especially when I saw something that reminded me of her, even in those times when I didn't want it to be like that. It always gave me goosebumps and I would shake off that feeling and keep on going with my normal life.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
September 1945:
I found myself in New York City, where my dreams to become an actress had come true. Those theaters on Broadway were the beginning of the first steps in my career. Sometimes it amazes me how far I’ve gotten.
I had planned on staying over a month to watch new plays that might interest me for a movie. I still didn’t know what was going to be my next project - A Stolen Life was alluring but I wanted other options -, and I knew I could find a good story for Warner to buy.
As I came back to the apartment that I was renting for these weeks, I looked out of the window of the car that was driving me. There were so many posters promoting Broadway plays and some of the soon to be premiered movies that it was hard to keep track of them all. My gaze was kind of lost, and my entire body felt worn out while we cruised through the busy streets of the metropolitan city. As we stopped at a traffic light an enormous wave of sentiments crashed into me when my eyes fixed on one of the marquees.
► Mildred Pierce, The woman most men want… but shouldn’t have ◄
I tensed up, as my mind could only recall those blue eyes, and her freckled complexion, with no lipstick on her face. A fresh and happy morning face. I could even remember the smell of bacon and eggs in my kitchen, as she almost begged me to promise her I would go to the premiere of Mildred Pierce . It was the most important night in her career so far and I had made a promise that I would be there.
The realization had me in a daze from that moment inside of the car until I entered the wealthy apartment that I was inhabiting just a block away from Central Park. As I entered my phone rang, plucking me out of my troubled thoughts.
“Hi, who’s this?” I answered the phone, almost in a daze.
“Hi, darling. It’s me, Olivia,” My friend said from the other side, and for a brief moment a small smile appeared on my face.
“How nice to hear your voice! How have you been?” I asked her, trying to seem like nothing was affecting me. I needed some distraction immediately.
“It’s going well, nothing much really, just reading a great script that I got. But I can’t tell you a thing about it, I don’t want to jinx it” She answered, entertained with her own mystery that she was building up.
“I knew something would come up, but I’ll save my interrogation for later” I answered her, feeling intrigued and hopeful for her.
“Yes, I just hope that it’s what I have been waiting for… Well, enough about me, what have you been doing, darling?” She asked with her usual sweet tone.
“I’m currently seeing any play that I can, I need a good plot for a film” I started explaining my quest. “But before you ask me, they have all been so boring. Olivia, there are no good plots, and maybe just one actor that is worth a look, but they just don’t train them like they used to” I could even notice the annoyance in my voice.
“I can imagine that, darling. But I’m sure there must be something out there for you to discover. Just like you once told me, it will come together ” And I knew that deep down she was just messing with me for how bad I was at comforting people.
“I hate you” I laughed out loud and she did it too. I missed her and our late nights of talking over a glass of scotch. “Thank you, for making me laugh. I needed it” I told her after our laughs ceased.
“Anytime, honey. Is everything okay, though? I mean, apart from how awful the plays have been” She questioned with genuine care, and boy I wanted to tell her the truth, to just share this feeling inside of me with her. But I knew that deep down that I couldn’t.
“Yes, it’s just…” I didn’t know what to say. “I’m just a little sad that the Hollywood Canteen has closed. I mean, don’t take it wrong, I’m glad the war is over, but I kind of miss the whole environment that we created there. It gave me some free time to travel here and look for a new project, but I still miss everything that happened there, I … I don’t know, it’s stupid. I should stop complaining about something that I can’t change,” I finished as my brain was all over the place, remembering those joyous times I had dancing with friends, that one time John fell on his butt in the kitchen, the long rants smoking with an unknown soldier, and even…. my meetings with Joan in the bathroom, the little glances, the hand touching. Why did everything have to make me remember her? .
“I’m your friend, darling. You can complain…” she started saying but I cut her off.
“I know, but I’m a little tired right now. Maybe we can complain together when I go back?” I proposed, I didn’t want Olivia to feel like I didn’t want to speak to her.
“That seems like a good plan. Let me know when you are coming back and we can have a delicious meal. I’m always a phone call away” she kindly answered.
“I will. I promise. Bye bye, Livy” I said.
“Oh, and Bette, it’s okay to miss happy moments like the ones you constructed there. I’m sure those moments miss you too” was all she said before she hung up and gave me the opportunity to answer. Not that I would be able to, though.
That night, as I tried to sleep, being tucked under the covers, I stared at the ceiling. I knew why I couldn't rest. I recalled that poster in my mind. It made such an impact on me, and I already hated recalling something that could make me stir restlessly.
The feeling of something that was still lurking in the back of my mind, haunted me. Joan was still there, as an old and distant memory. But the curious part wasn't either of those things, it was that from time to time she would pop into my head. Especially when I saw something that reminded me of her, even in those times when I didn't want it to be like that. It always gave me goosebumps and I would shake off that feeling and keep on going with my normal life.
But months have passed and nothing could erase her from my mind. Even if I wanted it or not. Even if I would go to the other side of the country. Even if I wanted to throw away that fucking scarf that I carried in my suitcase like an idiot.
I looked at the clock, it was 3 a.m. and there was not a single part of my body that was even a little bit asleep. I got up from the bed, almost like a grumpy old man as I complained about the lack of sleep. I went to my almost empty suitcase, and in the bottom of it I found that piece of clothing I was searching for. I grabbed it tightly, and exited the room as my feet stomped decidedly .
Once I was out of that room, I walked through dense darkness, reaching the kitchen, and just like in the past, I stood in front of the trash can. Ready to throw out that black scarf, to make it seem like I was taking her out of my life. To tear her off from me, from the deep roots of my consciousness.
My palm opened, discarding the knitting, and I left the kitchen without looking back. But I did it rapidly, so I could escape from that place. I went to the living room, and turned on the big lamp. I sat on the huge and comfy armchair, ready to smoke a cigarette. I lit it up automatically, my hands were already used to it like a machine.
The weather was changing and that chilly night made me immediately grab a cardigan that I had discarded earlier that day on the couch next to me.
I snuggled up, hugging my own legs as I sat on that comfortable seat. I felt myself getting lost in my own thoughts, as I consumed nicotine with necessity and closed my eyes softly.
That blue gaze, trembling hands, and the taste of alcohol on her lips … I closed my eyes tightly, as I pressed my nails to my own leg. I felt frustrated as it seemed that I couldn't erase the memory of the last time that I saw her…
***
I still remember it was the 2nd of May, since at the Canteen we were celebrating the fall of Berlin. There was joy, drinks, food and music, all around. I was having a ball, until I felt light-headed. The dense and polluted air soon shooed me away.
I went to the place where I always secluded myself. I needed the fresh breeze of the night. I sighed in delight when I felt the air on my face, soon going into the darkness to light a cigarette.
That well-known routine always felt satisfactory, and I closed my eyes as I relished the sensation of the gentle wind on my skin. I relaxed as I supported my back on the cold wall, almost smiling at the serene moment.
I heard a faint sound of heels clacking on the floor. I took another puff of nicotine, not opening my eyes, trying not to break from the moment. But the sound grew louder until I couldn't ignore it. It was irritating that someone would interrupt my needed solitude.
I almost jumped in my spot finding Joan in front of me, clearly inebriated. She was trying to keep her balance as best she could in that state. Even her mink coat was falling from her arms.
It was like seeing a ghost. I didn’t know why, probably it was thanks to how I had ended things with her. How she had insisted, calling me, sending me letters, flowers, anything for us to talk again. But if I had learned to do anything it was to avoid her.
I know, it sounded terrible, but that’s the only way I could deal with her. I knew that at the second I would give her the slightest attention, it would feed her illusion. I had to stop her somehow. My diligence had worked fine until now, since it was the first time that I was seeing her after that night at the California Hotel.
Joan’s face was looking still immaculate although she was drunk, a couple of curls falling on her forehead, her lipstick barely smudged, her mascara close to being ruined. She was resembling M.J. Drew, in her own movie, They All Kissed The Bride . Equally as beautiful.
(Joan as M.J. Drew)
“Joan!” I exclaimed dumbfounded as I visibly swallowed due to a sudden nervousness that had invaded my body. “What are you doing here?” I asked the stupidest question right there, knowing that there was a possibility that she might join the celebration.
“Isn’t it obvious? You've been hiding for a long time, and this is the only way I could see you” Although she wasn’t slurring her words, you could notice in her voice how much she had drunk.
I stood up straighter, trying to impose myself in front of her. “There’s nothing else to talk about. I made myself clear that night” I looked down on her.
But she didn’t back down. “Sure, you showed how scared you were”. I could see how decisive she was, so much so that it was in a way, intimidating and perilous.
“If that’s the excuse you want to believe to make you feel better, then use it!” I tried to act nonchalantly towards her.
“Huh- Just what I expected” She raised a brow, a judging stare in her blue eyes. A hand on her hip, imposing herself too.
“What do you mean?!” Yes, she was here to put up a fight. It seemed the alcohol hadn’t made her senseless, just braver.
“You know what? I don’t understand you at all. Do you remember who was the one who went to my dressing room and kissed me?!” Her eyebrows raised, giving me a tint of my hypocrisy that I was trying to ignore. I felt the color rising on my skin, slowly from my neck to my face.
“That’s-” I tried to chime in, not knowing how to respond.
“Who was the one who kissed me desperately in that restroom?! Who was the one who invited me to their home?!” She kept going, throwing those truths to my face, one after the other.
My eyes were opened as wide as they could, as I felt mentally cornered by her words. I couldn't deny that, those were facts. “Well… That 's over…” I weakly said.
“Because you said that to yourself, you made yourself believe you could move on with your safe and secluded life, where I’m no longer part of it. All of that because you’re shaking in your boots, you still can’t admit you’re terrified of the risks, of having any feelings towards me!” Joan didn’t come to play, and that’s when I knew that I couldn't tame her. I wanted her to stop, I wanted her not to say anything else about it. Because deep down I knew there was some truth to what she was saying.
I would never let anyone know that I was afraid. That’s something that weak people do. And I’m anything but weak. “I’m not scared, not of anyone, especially not you!”
But then Joan rebutted me. “You know damn well what I’m talking about!”
“Now listen, Crawford. You might be used to your little affairs, sleeping around, taking people in and then throwing them away. But that’s not how I am!” Again, like in the past, I was trying to demarcate our differences, maybe to feel on a different level than her. To belittle her.
The perplexed expression on her face, was at the edge of laughing at my statements. “Throwing people away? You were the one who threw me out of your life when you realized you couldn't take it!”
“Okay then!” I exclaimed, feeling that I was getting symbolically choked with her questioning. “Want me to say it's true?! So have it, you’re right dear Joanie! Now leave me alone!” I almost expressed desperation, wanting her to finally leave.
Joan's shoulders then dropped, sighing and softening her voice. “You know that’s not what I wanted…”
“Then what?” I asked with a tint of suspicion and curiosity.
She got what she wanted. She suddenly grabbed me by the jaw and kissed me, with the taste of alcohol on her mouth. But from her it felt intoxicating, like the way she used to make me melt with her lips. Her strong arms gripped me tightly, and although I had tensed myself from the sudden movement, I let my guard down.
I dropped my cigarette without realizing, as my hands preferred to be on her, bringing her closer to me. Soon we were devouring each other against the wall like those two months of us being apart had never passed.
It was like we were in our own world. In a place that was so perfect, it felt unreal. Felt too good to be true. Something that could burn you and hurt you by the consequences it brought with it.
I felt her hands going up and up, lingering over my breast. My cheeks were burning. Those daring movements soon brought me back to reality. The cold and harsh reality. I raised my hands, to bring them to her shoulders and stop her from kissing me.
Our gaze met for a brief second until I looked down. I couldn't forget her eyes, those who haunted me when they gleamed in fright, as she stayed close to me. Our noses touched as she begged with a small voice. “Everything will be alright, we just need to be careful and nothing will happen… Please, my love …” Her trembling hand caressed my cheek as her forehead leaned on mine, her eyes searching mine.
Until they finally did. But my stare came with a coldness that almost resembled the winter. “I can't” And I just simply couldn't. Avoiding and hiding everything that kiss had brought back to me.
Then she stepped back, her eyes confused, as they teared up. Her warm hands soon had left me, and for a moment I almost leaned to them again. Like I wanted to follow them, to feel that touch on me again. I noticed her irregular breathing, like she had been running to the top of a mountain but in reality she was building up to something. Something that finally blew up on my face.
Her big expressive eyes changed to anger and frustration, her brows furrowed like I had just slapped her on the face. Her jaw was tense, as her hands turned into fists. “Alright, be like everyone else and leave!” She raised her trembling voice, that for a moment took me aback, making me flinch on my spot.
“Stop making a scene!” I quickly looked around, afraid if anyone was seeing the situation, and luckily there was no one around.
“And what do I care?! Listen, I might be a slut, a tramp, or whatever you enjoy calling me, but at least I live my life however I please. When I put on the pants, I can take full responsibility for it. So when I told you I love you I meant it because I don’t do things halfway like you do. I came here because I have no pride, it seems. To plead with you. But love can't be begged for. So I’ll leave you alone as you wished, and I'll be sure you won't see me around” Suddenly she had armed herself, defending her own honor, even if she was heartbroken.
She left me speechless, now I was the one who felt like I’d been slapped across the face. I was too affected that it took me a few seconds to react, but she was already walking away. Suddenly I was aware I was shaking, my body feeling so cold in that secluded place.
I stormed back inside, back to the party, like I was proving to myself that I didn’t care about what just had happened. “Bette, are you alright?” I heard a preoccupied Olivia.
“Of course!” I smiled at her, injecting myself with a joyful energy that I didn’t have in me.
Her eyebrows frowned as she stared at me, weirded out. “You’re crying”
When I heard those words, I froze, touching my cheeks to find the tears lingering on my skin. I wiped them anxiously, blaming it on the emotion I felt because Berlin was liberated.
I never thought I would have to act outside of a set.
***
I opened my eyes as I noticed I had left marks on my own legs after pressing my nails too hard on my skin. I shuddered as I felt the fire of my cigarette reaching the ends of my fingers. Quickly I crushed it to the nearest ashtray.
I stayed in a state of shock on my seat as a realization came to me. I felt the anguisment in my chest as I could still recall that heartbreaking look on her precious porcelain face. The one I should have taken with my hands and caressed her to assure her that I didn’t want to cause her pain. I realized that I indeed was utterly scared, and that I didn’t know how to deal with the situation and escaping was the most cowardly thing I could do.
Joan’s memory stayed with me for a reason, she was there to remind me what could have been. That she was unfinished business. But most of all, to plague me with the sense of guilt that I had pushed her away in the worst way possible.
Like she once told me, “ You always boast that you’re the most honest woman and you can’t even say the truth to my face !”. She was right. I couldn't say the truth to her face, and that was not me. I wouldn't ever avoid things, I always faced reality and took full responsibility for my actions.
When as a matter of fact, I had done everything on my own accord, I had deliberately searched for her. I had begged her attention, I had kissed her with intention. I had looked for her affection, her body, and even planned every single encounter.
We saw each other more than our own families, we had escaped together on several occasions just to reach for one another. She had trusted me, not only by showing me her skin, but by opening up her wounds to me, letting me see how weak and insecure she really was.
I didn’t want to acknowledge that I had leaned on her too, when I was stressed, when I felt too tense, when I needed comfort, when I wanted to feel safe… And what had I done in return? I ignored her, and showed her a cold face, depriving her of my honesty. It resembled an attitude that a careless man would have had with women and just thinking about it embarrassed me. I was a hypocrite.
I stood up with desperation. I walked through the apartment and reached the destination: the kitchen. I turned on the lights and approached the trash can to recover the scarf. That one item I even carried along with me on my trip, ignoring why I did it. Oh, it’s just like any other scarf , I had fooled myself before. Quickly, I brought it to the sink and I started to scrub, using soap. My hands were working fast, as I was overcome with misery after realizing my actions. The vision became blurry as I heaved, roughly scrubbing the piece of knitting. When my hands got tired of the sudden brusque energy I stopped, letting the water rinse out the guilt.
I couldn't let it go. And I wouldn't.
***
It took a lot of nerve to push down my pride and attend the Premiere of Mildred Pierce, but there I was walking into the theater. I had arrived almost late, since I got to my spot as the credits were appearing on the screen.
Since I was one of the late ones to come in, almost no one realized I was there, taking one place on a private balcony. I talked with my contacts and I was able to make a reservation only for myself. I didn’t want anyone to know I was attending that night, not until after I finished the screening. Unfortunately a few photographers were able to snap some pictures at the entrance, but other than that, everything was going alright.
I was wearing a woman’s suit, made out of silk, dark blue, and with a small hat that combined the whole look. I was being discreet, but fancy enough to be at the level of the event. The place was packed, and it was already so dark that I couldn't distinguish anyone in the audience.
My sudden nervousness was soon calmed thanks to the mysterious beginning. There was murder right away and I was hooked. I had read the script more than a year ago, so I barely remembered what happened in the story, but nevertheless it wasn’t the same thing as witnessing the final product on the screen.
Suddenly, there she was. With her mink coat, matching hat, walking down the bay. My heart started to beat fast as I saw the first closeup on the silver screen. She had barely started to act, contemplating the sea, thinking of doing something extreme. The fear, doubt and struggle were clearly shown on her face. I hadn’t seen her perform like this, not since… Not since A Woman’s Face .
Two tears lingered under her eyes, almost perfectly, as she mumbled defeatedly: “ Leave me alone ”. She had resembled a lost soul walking around, filled with troubles in her mind. How I missed seeing her precious face, so much so that my hands were clutching my handbag as I contemplated her in awe. Sometimes I wished she had a technicolor movie, so people could appreciate how beautiful her deep blue eyes were. But nothing could replace the pleasure that it was to see them up close in real life.
Just like that I had embarked on that journey that was Mildred’s life, finding out how she became who she was. As I watched Joan, cooking and baking, looking like a housewife, it struck me deeply. I soon remembered her in my kitchen that morning, whisking up eggs to make us breakfast. I swallowed as my brain recalled her freckled face, filled with glee by sharing something so common yet so intimate with me.
But that was just going to be the start of several moments when I would reminisce, going down memory lane as I watched the film. When Mildred was at the beach house with Monte, he was bold enough to reveal her bathing suit. That one that she was wearing that early morning on the wardrobe test day. She had left me speechless that day, as I lost control and finally kissed her in her dressing room.
“ No whistle?” She asked expectantly . “ I'd need a police siren.” I chuckled to myself. It was true.
But soon after that, the scene in front of the chimney happened. Just combing her hair in front of the fire had so much charm, that could make anyone sigh. He tried to kiss her, but at first, she avoided him.
“ You take my breath away .” He mumbled close to her mouth. “ Do I ?” God, her deep voice .
“ I like you, Monte. You make me feel -” Her profile looked so perfect as the scene felt intimate. “ I don't know, warm .” I wondered if I ever made her feel like that. And If I did, would I be able to do it again?
“ And wanted? Beautiful ?” He continued, grabbing her by the shoulders.
“ Yes .”
Then he got close to her ear to whisper: “ When I'm close to you, there's a sound in the air like the beating of wings . You know what it is ?” I had shivers down my spine as I felt what he was saying.
“ No. What ?” Joan’s gentle voice made me tremble.
“ My heart. Beating like a schoolboy's .” He confessed as he was now staring at her lips.
“ Is it? I thought it was mine .” Finally he leaned on her, kissing her in front of the warm fire, making me want to be in his position. I shifted in my seat as my heart was going through the emotions.
I closed my eyes, remembering that last kiss we had shared in that cold and dark alley. I missed the way her strong grip had me against the wall, feeling her warm lips on me, making me feel a million sensations inside of me. I missed it, desperately. I missed her touch, like those brief caresses she would give me inside of my car. Or those moments when she would hold on to me, taking her time, more than the usual, resembling a hug that she wanted to give me. It was all so clear now. I knew what all of that meant: she was self conscious of showing how much she loved me, afraid that she was expressing too much to me.
She had told me with her gaze, with her hands, with her sighs how much she loved me, how much she cared for me. And I had ignored them, not reading between the lines, when it was always so obvious. Even that night at home, we didn't have sex… We made love to each other. The way she stared at me, the way that she would touch me, the way that we reached our pleasure… Was gentle, caring… Loving.
I wanted to believe that none of that could happen, that it was out of the question to have any feelings towards one another. It was like I put a blindfold over my eyes. What was I thinking ? I had been so selfish. I had been so cruel with her. Oh Joanie, what did I do to you ?
I could recall her trembling hands over my face on that night she was drunk, trying to beg me to be together again. “ Everything will be alright, we just need to be careful and nothing will happen… Please, my love… ” She had pleaded and I had pushed her away from me.
I had a knot in my throat as the tears poured out in silence, opening my eyes in shame. I grabbed a handkerchief, wiping them as I stared at the screen. I hadn’t been this emotional in months and it was so overwhelming, that I couldn't stop shaking in my spot. Crying was not something that happened often with me, but Joan was moving so many feelings inside of me.
All I could think as I kept staring at her face in front of me was how much I lamented my attitude. How I… Adored her… How I… Missed her…How I…
Love her .
Notes:
I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter, it's probably my favorite one. Thank you for reading, for commenting and keeping up with this fic until now. Next week we'll have the final chapter...
Once again, thank you Dem for editing <3
Chapter 13: Mildred Pierce Pt. 2
Summary:
The emotional turmoil took a toll on me. I could not forget the look of disappointment on her face, and the worst part is that I could not ask her about it.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
September 1945:
The credits rolled as I stayed in my seat completely astounded and overwhelmed by a wave of feelings that came down crashing over me. The lights were on but I refused to move, I was processing my emotions. Taking it all in, trying to calm down as people clapped.
In time people started to leave, and only then I realized where I was. Just like that the trance had ended in that moment. I decided then to leave the balcony and rush to the nearest restroom.
I stared at my reflection, noticing that my tears had ruined the little amount of makeup that I had put on. I fixed it all, as carefully as I could, taking my sweet time this occasion.
At that moment I realized that I couldn't live like this. I couldn’t bear it. What was the point of carrying on this kind of life? Where I was insincere with myself? Why did I have to lie to myself? Who am I trying to fool? I had to live my life for myself and not others. After all the sacrifices, did I also have to give up my own happiness? If I didn’t do something now, If I wasn’t brave now… I’d regret it. I just knew it.
That’s when I made the decision that I had been debating for days: I’d go to the Premiere party. I didn’t know if I was ready to see her, if I knew what I was going to say to her, but I had to do something about it.
After facing the photographers on my way out, and with no signs of Joan at the exit, I went back to my limousine. The Sherry-Netherland Hotel was the destination.
My lack of planning, and sudden impulse made me realize that it was going to be hard for us to interact. After all it was her big night, and she was going to be pretty busy that evening. But it was too late, since the car was pulling up beside the sidewalk, in front of the Hotel entrance.
As a few flashes welcomed me, I decided then to stay, and figure out a way to talk to her. Who said that planned things always worked out? I could work it out. And I did.
After I made my little “arrangements”, I took the elevator to reach the main ballroom. I just hoped there wasn’t a huge agitation once I arrived. But as soon as I did, I encountered Jack Carson in front of me. “Bette!” Well, I guessed that the idea of keeping up a low profile in this event was going to be hard.
“Jack!” I half heartedly smiled at him, we had worked together before in previous movies. He was with his wife and I greeted them, and soon a few people gathered around us. I began to worry, not even having a second to check if Joan was around.
“Would you excuse me for a moment?” I kindly told them to get away from that small crowd. My big eyes were scanning the room as I looked for the star of the night. I could hear some amazed folks whispering my name upon seeing me there. I ignored them, as I walked across the ballroom.
I found her, a few people were gathered around her, some of the producers, a couple of the Warner brothers, other actors and that damned Philip Terry. Her back was facing me, so she hadn’t spotted me yet. I immediately could distinguish her back, her shoulder pads, her beautiful hairdo, and her poised presence.
Hesitantly, I approached the group, feeling that my heart was undoing my chest. “Oh, there’s Bette!” Damn, that Jack Warner had to ruin everything. I froze in my spot as I felt a sudden panic rise inside of me. Upon hearing that, Joan’s tense body language showed immediately before she turned around. I noticed for a brief second how her confused gaze was turning towards me, and when she finally saw me her face demonstrated incredulity.
No one at that evening knew what that brief but tense stare meant. But we did. Now, Joan was the one who looked like she had seen a ghost. I had to do something, so I pushed down the panic, and approached them.
Joan looked exquisite, as she always did. She had the perfect balance between glamor and simplicity, a manner in which she had accustomed herself to dressing during War times. Her curls were tied up in that hairdo with a black bow, and it made her look somehow adorable. Her stamped blouse, probably by Adrian, was perfectly made for her. She stood out, she always did. There was no one like her, she was always the life of the party.
“Hello” I had managed to say, as we looked at each other. The stupor she was in wouldn't fade away, but she wasn’t showing animosity or joy at seeing me. Just confusion in her blue eyes. Everyone muttered a hello back to me, with a gentle smile on their faces.
“Bette, did you like the movie? What did you think?” Soon Jack interrupted the hypnotizing moment, asking restlessly. Joan then averted her eyes to him for a brief second, and then looked at me again; expectantly.
I met my boss’ gaze. “Excellent, I told you you had made a smart decision by signing Joan to Warner’s” I smiled at him, avoiding her gaze, feeling that I was blushing under her scrutiny.
She seemed taken aback with what I just said. “I knew you would like it, Bette, you always appreciated talent!” The old man raised his glass and I nodded to him. I felt suffocated there, in front of all of those faces.
“Would you gentlemen excuse us, me and Joan are going get a drink together!” I suddenly made up an excuse, as I gently grabbed her by the wrist.
“Sure!” Philip said as he put on a charming smile that to me looked disgusting.
(Joan and Philip at the Sherry-Netherland Hotel)
“I’ll see you around!” I fakely smiled at them, still not meeting her gaze. But she couldn't stop staring at me, dumbfounded. I then guided her, feeling the warmth of her skin on my fingertips as we moved across the room. Those who would encounter us in the way, would smile and greet us. Weirded out by seeing us together, those curious eyes on their faces were almost comical. It was always hard to have privacy in places like these.
But nevertheless, I found the quietest corner I could. I knew I couldn't talk calmly to her here, but I still had something important to say. I freed her wrist as we secluded ourselves in that place. I felt anxious and jittery as I stood face-to-face to her.
“First of all… Congratulations” I said, trying but failing to show her what a great job I thought she did.
“Thank you…” she stated seriously, showing herself unfazed, but I could see that she was uncomfortable.
“I wanted to say that uh- I’m proud of you” I started saying in a nervous tone. “That was your best performance so far, I’ve… I’ve seen you grow and grow these last years and you’re only getting better…” That’s way better, Bette. “And I hope that from now on, you get the recognition that you deserve” I finished remarking the last words, showing that I admired her work and development as an actress.
“Bette… I- I don’t know what to say… I never thought I would hear you say that to me…” She answered in a confused tone, I could see in her eyes how she was trying to see if I was being sincere, if she was actually hearing correctly.
“You don’t need to say anything else, I just wanted you to hear that from me… And I kept my promise…” I reminded her, showing that I was there for her.
“Oh… Yes… The promise…” She said in a deflated tone, her shoulders dropping, the disappointment was clear. I didn’t understand, but the party was not the place to question her about her reactions.
“I know you’re busy, and you have to celebrate your night… But the last thing I want you to know is that… I wish to talk to you whenever you have time” I looked elsewhere, not wanting to show how vulnerable I was, so fast into seeing her again.
“Talk?” she asked, incredulous, like I was joking with her.
“I’ll stay tonight at this hotel, if you want to talk at any hour… Feel free to come by. I’ll be in room 502” I said, returning my eyes to hers, showing that I was being truthful.
“I’ll think about it” She answered without blinking once, softly touching her earring, anxiously playing with it.
She seemed unsure about whether to meet me, or to even have me there at her party, so I took that as a hint and took my leave, but not before saying: “Congratulations again and… I hope you enjoy your night.”
After my little goodbye, I walked down the hallways of the hotel. The emotional turmoil took a toll on me. I could not forget the look of disappointment on her face, and the worst part is that I could not ask her about it. I should have practiced my lines more. Maybe she is mad at me for ruining her evening and showing up on one of the most important nights of her life. I didn’t know, but my mind was running wild, I needed to see her again. I needed to explain.
I waited and waited. I walked up and down through that room constantly and consumed so many cigarettes that they started to pile up on the ashtray. I could feel the anxiety in my fingertips, my feet, my knees and even my breathing. But the hours went by and she didn’t come.
When it was close to 1 a.m I decided to change my clothes and get into the nightgown I sent over earlier. I went to bed, and I stirred restlessly over that mattress. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep. I stared at the window, the ceiling, the door… The wait was getting painful.
At some point I dozed off from the emotional exhaustion, I believe. Because when I heard the knock on the door, I sat on the bed alarmed and confused. I quickly approached the door, fixing my nightgown and hair.
I grabbed the handle and I opened it abruptly. “For a moment I thought no one was here-” Joan had started to confess until she abruptly closed her mouth when our faces met.
I combed my ginger hair with my hands, hoping I didn’t look like a mess. “Sorry, I fell asleep for a moment… Come in…” I switched on the lights, and gave her some space to walk into the hotel room.
“That’s alright…” I barely heard her say as she entered the place, approaching the comfortable chaise lounge that was in the middle of the room.
“Sit, sit…” I insisted, nervously, following her.
“I apologize if it’s too late but it was hard to get rid of Philip, he was getting on my nerves. But he finally fell asleep after drinking god knows how much scotch.” I noticed how jittery she was as well, she was talking fast, as she fixed the hem of her skirt after she sat down like a dame.
When we were facing each other again on that sofa, I soon got overwhelmed as I remembered her face on the silver screen, just a few hours earlier. She still looked so precious after hours of socializing, her makeup almost intact. But I still could see her freckles.
“Well I-” God this is hard to verbalize. “First of all I wanna say that I’m sorry.”
Joan's face had seriousness written all over it, she was analyzing me. “What are you sorry about?” She asked me.
“About how I treated you last time, and even before that…” I started to explain. I pushed down my pride, which could be my worst enemy from time to time. “You were… You were right… I was scared.” I finally admitted to her.
“I know” For a moment she looked down, sighing, and I sensed how defeated she was. Her eyes soon were on me again. “But, it’s kinda late isn’t it?”
I hope not . “I know, I’m- I’m sorry for what I put you through, it wasn’t fair. I wasn’t honest to you and I made you suffer” I felt ashamed as I let her know how much I regretted it.
“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me, nor your pity, for you to come here today and show yourself to fulfill your promise , so you can feel better about what you did to me in the past” She didn’t blink once as she let me know why she was feeling disappointed. Oh, now I understand .
“I’m not here because of that” I quickly declared.
“What for then?” Her judging stare felt cold somehow.
“Tonight… When I watched you on that screen, I realized the huge mistake I had made. I was blind, Joan. I tried to make myself believe that you and I were nothing but a game. And with that, I ignored how you felt, I ignored what it meant when you always took my hand, when you held me closely, when you kissed me… Even when you… Knit this…” I turned on my place, to grab the scarf that was on the table behind me, and Joan hadn’t seen it until then. When she spotted it, her eyes widened for a second, soon softening to a saddened gaze.
“You kept it…” She said softly, almost like a pained whisper, her gaze fixed on the scarf.
I nodded, hesitantly, almost blushing. It was embarrassing how soft I could become when I had feelings for someone. I had to let her know. “You were brave enough to tell me that you loved me back then, and I acted like I didn’t care. I was cruel, and I can’t forgive myself for it. That was not me, Joan, I was never a coward. And why should I be now?” I blinked rapidly, as I built up the courage to finally confess. “Iloveyou” I mumbled quickly, almost about to slap myself for being this chicken.
“What?!” Joan frowned, clearly not hearing my declaration. The frustration I felt towards myself made me angry and I hated how stupid I could be. So I straightened my posture, and wide-eyed I confessed out loud: “I LOVE YOU!”
Joan was taken aback, flinching for a moment until the scene was so absurd that abruptly, she genuinely cackled. I was shocked at her reaction until I understood why. I gave in and laughed with her, letting go of the tension within my body.
In time our laughter subsided, and I hoped we weren’t disturbing the other guests, but at this point I didn’t give a damn. The silence started to creep in as we now stared at each other, like two silly and coy girls. I hadn’t laughed like this in a long time it seemed, but when our eyes met, I knew there was my place. Next to her.
Ugh, fuck it! I told myself and I leaned in to meet her lips with mine. Joan was eager to do so, as we grabbed one another in necessity. It was like coming back home, as I tasted those lips I had coveted for a long time.
I had lied to myself for the first time in my life, making myself believe that she was a mistake, that I should have never involved myself with her. That I didn’t have any feelings for her, that I didn’t miss her, not even her touch, not even her kisses, not even the way her nose crinkles when she laughs… Joan was all over me, it was an overwhelming experience to feel her next to me, as I kissed her and held her tightly. I could smell her perfume again, and it invaded my senses as I fell again into her spell.
Slowly, I felt that Lucille was here, as her lips left mine and her eyes now seemed alerted. “You’re sure about this? Are you not afraid?” Her whisper sounded desperate and fearful. I understood her inquietude, and I grabbed her hands in assurement, squeezing them softly.
“I know we can do it, both of us are smarter than any journalist out there. We’ll find a way” Joan let out a sigh, like that breath she was holding in before I confirmed my intentions. But soon her eyes were filled with tears that she released with a sob, hugging me tightly.
It took me a long time to realize what she knew right away about us, so I had made her painfully suffer for months. Way before, she had told me the same thing. “ We need to be careful and nothing will happen ”. My grip tightened against her as I recalled her hopeful gaze that night. “I mean it Joan, I’m all in for you” I confirmed once again.
She let go of me as she sniffled and wiped her tears. “You know… You should call me Billie…”
I couldn't help but smile tenderly at her, as I grabbed her free hand to squeeze it softly. “Alright, I’ll call you Billie…” I mumbled as she was pulling herself together.
“I’m sorry, I always manage to embarrass myself in front of you…” She confessed with an almost shy attitude.
“I don’t care, I prefer you to be raw with me… Not Joan Crawford, I just want you to be Billie in front of me…” She smiled brightly as her manicured fingers dabbed the tears that were disappearing.
“It’s been a crazy night, I can’t even handle the amount of emotions I’ve felt… You should have seen me arrive at the theater tonight… I was so nervous that I threw up in the restrooms” Joan seemed kind of ashamed of what she just confessed, looking down for a moment as her fingers anxiously moved on her lap.
I decided to grab her hand and squeeze it in comfort. “Darling… Are you okay now?”
“Yes, although it’s been too much… The crowd, the fear of failing, all the expectations that were on me…” Her free hand rubbed on her temple as she closed her eyes, clearly showing me how much stress she had gone through.
I sympathized with her, although her situation might be more nerve racking since it was her first main role in almost three years. “I know, believe me I understand you…”
Her eyes met mine, for a minute she looked like she couldn't believe what I was saying. “But you always seem so unfazed, fearless…”
“I get scared too, just my pride won’t let me show it… But you did great, and I’m so proud of you” I was honest to her, confessing to her that we had the same fears.
“Thank you… You know… When you appeared tonight I almost fainted, I was so anxious… I don’t even know how I made it until now” I gulped, feeling maybe too guilty for what I put her through.
“I’m sorry I made you feel like that…” I looked down, in shame. “What about now?” I asked this last question, hopeful.
“Now I feel happy…” Just when I was about to agree with her, she continued. “... and horny” I was taken aback by her bluntness.
Oh Billie, you never change . But surprisingly, I was the one who attacked her lips first, grabbing her with both hands by the jaw. Joan as she kissed me back, was eager to take her clothes off, as she fumbled with the buttons anxiously. Until finally she was able to take off her jacket, then followed her skirt.
Then she had to leave my lips, standing up in a hurry as she undressed herself. “Ugh why do we have to wear so many clothes… It slows down everything. You too, take it off!” For a moment she sounded like a brat as she also commanded me to get naked.
“Well, this isn’t romantic you know…” I joked as I started to open my robe, entertained by Joan’s lack of patience towards this.
“Darling, I had my romantic phase, I sent you flowers and flowers everyday and you didn’t appreciate them…” She put her hands on her hips as she stood now only with her underwear on.
“Oh, I almost forgot about that! You were a little stalker, you know?” I sat on the bed as I now was only in my underwear as well. Joan soon joined me, sitting in front of me.
“I was crazy about you” Her gaze and little smile resembled tenderness and I could sense a tint of nostalgia when she said that.
My eyebrows were up, eyes wide at the ridiculous statement. “Was?!”
Joan giggled at my reaction and quickly corrected herself. “Well, I am…” After mumbling that she got near me, her delicate hands reached to the sides of my face as her gaze first landed on my eyes, to then my lips. I leaned too, closing the distance between each other.
The fire ignited in us. The needy kisses, the elaborated breathing, the warmth that emanated from our bodies, the desperate hands reaching for one another… That desire we had been repressing for some time was blooming now, as we almost tore each other’s undergarments off.
Suddenly, the world seemed to disappear. It was Joan, only Joan. All that I wanted was to be wrapped around by her arms, entering into her lustful world, and showing her how much I had missed her.
Her confidence was present then, taking control, knowing damn well that she was good at it. She would let herself loose, and be wild. I was so anxious to feel her skin, that my hands didn’t waste any time traveling over her body. I cupped her soft breasts on my hands, relishing in how I had longed for them.
Then her curves that I had missed to feel under my touch, inch by inch I let my hands wander around. Her legs too, she was too pleased when I reached that place as she observed me, and how I kissed them, from her calves to her inner thighs. They needed to be worshiped and that’s what I did.
When she was at her simplest, she looked even more beautiful. She had taken off her earrings, her lipstick was all smudged from our kisses, her hairdo was all ruined. We let our hair down, free, just like we were feeling in that hotel room. Liberated and ready to love ourselves as we have always wanted to.
My lips had continued their way to her core. She had shown me how to reach the maximum pleasure, and I was ready to demonstrate to her how I had learned. Joan let me know what a good job I was doing when she let out a loud moan as she grabbed the sheets like her life depended on it.
She mumbled my name, and then I stared at her as I kept pleasuring her. “Look at me” I heard her say between gasps and whimpers filled with obscenities. We held that lustful stare, as that view of her perfect figure impulsed me to intensify my movements. She couldn't help but squirm and writhe in ecstasy, so I held her down, grabbing her tightly her thighs.
Although I couldn't avoid the necessity of touching her unreal figure. My hand slowly went from her soft hips, to her stomach, reaching her chest.
How couldn't you fall for her? She was the epitome of beauty. Her sensuality was so hypnotizing that it could make any man or woman weak in the knees. Even if she was a vampiress, she had the softest heart and I had conquered it. Now more than ever she was mine. No matter if she had a ring on her finger.
I knew she was close, as the sounds of pleasure that came out from her pretty lips were louder and louder. I grabbed her breast roughly, since I knew she liked that.
Soon she reached her high under me, as I let her ride through her orgasm. The fact that I was able to make her feel like this, had me delighted. That I could give her that much satisfaction and affection that she deserved.
I went up, resting my head on her chest. I could hear her heart beating so fast after that elating moment. Her skin felt so warm that I wanted to rest here forever.
I’d never felt so close to her as I did now. I had opened up to her, I had let my guard down completely and now it was definitive. Not only that but she had been understanding, she let me show her how much I truly cared for her. That I had always loved her, I wanted her to know it.
But out of nowhere, Joan exclaimed as she combed my hair. “Darling, darling… I’ve got an idea!”
“What is it?” I had to raise my head and meet her gaze, alarmed by her sudden call.
She was still heaving but that didn’t stop her. “I know how we can fool them…” She incorporated herself, wide-eyed and somehow excited.
“What’s on your mind?” I frowned, clearly confused by what she was trying to say.
“Well, you know when I got to Warner’s there was already this rumor of our feud…” Joan started explaining.
“Yes?” I asked hesitantly.
“Let’s exploit it! Let’s make them believe we hate each other, from journalists to our friends… And no one would suspect a thing!” I hadn’t thought about something like that before, and I had to say that it sounded like a great plan but at the same time, there was still some concern in me.
“You think it would work?” I raised my brows as I stared at her. But her face looked so confident and pleased with her own ideas.
“Darling, we are actresses, let’s give the biggest performance of our lives!” Well, she had a point.
“Alright, don’t complain if I get too harsh” I mumbled as I started to imagine how I would play into this façade that she just came up with. Now it started to take shape, and somehow, I knew we could have fun with it.
“I won’t, instead I’ll be harsher, my love …” A sly smile was on her lips and I couldn't help but mirror her grin.
“Good” I nodded once, as we got closer. I brought her pretty lips next to mine, so I would kiss her tenderly, rejoicing on the inside at how happy I felt by this woman’s presence in my life.
When that hypnotizing contact ended, I opened my eyes, feeling like I was in a trance. But my enamored gaze contrasted with Joan’s mischievous one. She grabbed me abruptly by the shoulders, surprising me as I blinked rapidly. “Now it’s your turn!” Billie exclaimed and I couldn't help but giggle, submitting myself to the rollercoaster that was loving her. But being loved by her was something that only I had the privilege to experience. Now, and in the coming years…
Notes:
MissSensitive: Hello everyone! I still can’t believe this is actually ending, like I feel like it was yesterday that we started writing this lovely story.
I first want to thank mydancinglady for being so patient with me, for inviting me to write this with her and for teaching me a lot about the process itself. I also want to thank our lovely editors Dem and Steph for being there for us every step of the way. And last but not least, I want to thank you all for reading this story, for the kudos and for every single comment that brought a smile to our faces. Thank you all, it’s been a pleasure! 💗mydancinglady: Finally we reached the end of this fic. I hope it was fun to read to! We tried our best since English it’s not our native language, so perhaps that showed. Characterization was the most important thing for me to achieve and I hope that we reached that goal. I wanna thank my co-writer for putting up with me and joining this idea hahash.
None of this would have been possible without Dem and Steph, our editors, so thank you girls <3 One last thing, if anyone wants a sequel of these two, leave kudos! Thanks for reading!
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