Libra Livingstone spent her whole life praying for her dad to die. Arthur Livingstone spent weeks praying for her abortion. Libra’s mother Yalda Frazee chucked a career as a top TV packaging agent at Omniscience to raise her love child in the Hollywood Hills with the head of motion picture talent who never gave his kid so much as a hug. Famished for affection, she maintained her size zero by taking up long-distance running along with years of bulimic purging. When her boobs got too big and Libra was taken out of high school for breast-reduction surgery, she remembered her dad calling her “selfish, selfish, selfish.”
As an agent trainee at Omniscience/Ragnarök right out of Bennington, Libra lied to everyone about her last name, no one, not even the janitors, knew she was Arthur Livingstone’s kid. Libra dressed conservatively, never wore makeup, and enjoyed her anonymity as she rolled calls, floated on desks, and sorted envelopes in the mailroom. Interested in writing script coverage, Libra started making out with Larry Mersault at lunchtime in his office, which led to quickies on his couch while everyone attended the Wednesday morning staff meeting.
(Late at the office, a janitor walked in on them 69-ing: Libra, lapping away, oblivious; tortuous orgasm flooding out of him; office door closing; Mersault glimpsing the janitor’s warty tail, no earlobes, not of this area code, a day player from a Thør Rosenthal movie.)
Arthur Livingstone learned of their relationship and arranged for Libra to get a job elsewhere as a reader at Bellerophon Pictures, where she could pick up scripts, learn the ins and outs of the business, and avoid bringing shame onto the agency. When Benny Pantera invited the new girl to his latest production, Plasma Sluts, Libra had no idea the set visit would be the first time she did it for money. At a derelict warehouse in North Hollywood, Thør Rosenthal was so smitten with his ravishing visitor he cast Libra on the spot as a murdered hooker retrieved from a trash dumpster by a madman plastic surgeon utilizing body parts for his own twisted ambition. Libra refused to have her throat slit for free. Benny Pantera suggested she should jump into the makeup trailer for a hundred bucks before she jumped into the trash container; Libra haggled for five hundred; three Benjamins later, she was topless, covered in garbage, and ready for her close up.