Sunset Boulevard 1. Prologue

Max knew as soon as he opened the letter that their lives would never be the same. He screened all of Norma's mail, just as he had when she was at her peak. Of course now that she no longer worked they seldom got mail at all, unless it was bills or the occasional junk mail. That was what made that particular letter so different. It was written in shaky cursive, as if by a child.

He would soon find out after opening it that it was indeed a child who had written it. It was a fan letter, a real one. One so heartfelt and sincere he had to read it twice and then triple check that it was meant for Norma. It was from a little girl who listed her age as no more than twelve, and the only thing she wished for in the world was to meet her favorite actress, Norma Desmond.

It was 1942, and Norma had been out of work for over a decade. The masses of people who had once written and begged for her autograph had forgotten her, all except this one child. That day Max didn't write his usual two hundred letters. He only took her the one. At first, she was confused and thought it was a joke. A letter from a child? Absurd.

But the more times she read it, the more interested she became. So much so that she didn't question why her usual large pile of mail had decreased so drastically to only one letter.

"Max!" she called late in the day.

"Yes, Madame?"

"Respond to this little girl, this Beth. She'll get her wish. Tell her to come here tomorrow at ten o'clock sharp."

"Yes, Madame."

As he went to find the phone number to call the child, he could feel a shift in the air. Something was about to happen, something big. And it would all start with one Beth Woods, a very lucky girl indeed.


	2. Meeting Norma Desmond

It was nearly eight o'clock when the phone in the Woods' home rang. A girl, no more than twelve, raced to answer it. She looked older than her age, perhaps sixteen or seventeen. She was very beautiful. Her hair was dark and curly and hung past her shoulders.

Her face had high cheekbones, not too high, but well formed and noticeable. Her lips were full and a deep rose color, bringing out her bright blue eyes. She had often been told by older adults, mainly her teachers at school, how much she looked like an actress from the old days, a Norma Desmond. Naturally, this got her interested in this mystery woman. She had looked up everything she could about her and learned she had never made the transition to talkies.

Her luckiest moment had been when she was nine years old. She had found a picture of the woman as a young star, no more than sixteen. She'd dropped the photograph as if it were on fire, shock and surprise written across her features. If the picture hadn't been twenty-three years old and clearly had the name Norma Desmond scrawled across the back she would have thought she was looking in a mirror. Ever since that day she had been dying to meet the star.

She had managed to see all her movies, and thought they were all fantastic. She hadn't had the courage until recently to actually write to her, and that had taken such courage that she was sure she would faint as she dropped it in the box. She only expected a signed photograph, if that much. Surely a great star like Norma Desmond wouldn't want to waste her time on a child. Before she had rushed to answer the phone she had been holding up that same picture from three years before, comparing herself to the beautiful woman. She had to admit, the older she got the more she looked like her.

"Hello?" she asked, slightly out of breath.

"Is this a Miss Beth Woods?" a deep and heavily accented voice asked.

"This is she," Beth replied, suspicious as to who was calling.

"Miss Desmond wishes to meet you. She took a great interest in your letter. You are to come to 10086 Sunset Boulevard at ten o'clock tomorrow morning. Madame will be expecting you."

He hung up before she could reply, which was probably a good thing because she felt like she was going to pass out. She numbly put the receiver back on the hook before walking to her room in a daze. Norma Desmond wanted to meet her. Her, a simple child and daughter of a studio electrician! Who would have guessed her dreams would come true?

"I'm going to meet Norma Desmond. _The_ Norma Desmond," she breathed, still in shock.

Her eyes widened as she came to two important realizations. One, she had school the next day, and two, her father couldn't know about it. He despised actors and actresses, possibly because so many looked down on him for what he did. He was a strict parent, raising her alone since her mother had died in childbirth. He would never allow her to miss school, especially not to meet an actress, no matter how she idolized her.

"What am I gonna do?" she asked the walls. "I can't just not go." She paced for several minutes before an idea sprang to mind. "It's so simple. I'll just get ready like I'm going to school, but instead I'll find my way to the mansion."

She spent the rest of the night contemplating what to wear and changing her mind numerous times. She eventually settled on a dress of her mother's. It was a deep red, wine she supposed, off one shoulder with small rhinestones sewn in to catch the light. The only problem was that she couldn't properly fill out the top. She was only stumped for a few minutes before deciding that it wouldn't hurt to stuff her bra, just the one time.

Makeup she wouldn't bother with, since she didn't know how to properly apply it. Her hair would be up, a ponytail on top of her head with the curls flowing down her shoulders. She carefully hid the outfit so that her father wouldn't see it if he happened to come in her room. She laid out her normal dress as if she were going to school, planning to switch them after he left. Beth then went to bed.

She knew she wasn't going to sleep, but she thought she might as well try. A few miles away, Norma had already picked out her dress, headpiece, and heels. She was also in bed, the only difference being she was sleeping soundly, unfazed at the prospect of meeting a fan. Though it was late, Max was still awake making sure every inch of the large villa was spotless. It wouldn't do to have it appear dirty to a visitor.

* * *

Beth got up the next morning and took her bath as usual. In fact, everything she did was part of her morning routine. Her father left before her as always, wishing her a good day. She smiled pleasantly and waited a full ten minutes before rushing back to her room to change. She only had a few hours to make herself look as flawless as she could, and on top of it all she had to be gone before nine in case her father had forgotten something and came home.

She dressed quickly, a little tissue down her bra and she was fine. Her hair was somewhat harder to handle as she had never styled it to such a magnitude. It took her three tries before it was in the proper position and the curls stayed in place. For a moment, she almost decided to try the makeup after all, but once she looked at her mother's old supply she changed her mind. She put on a dark lip gloss instead, and found that to be all she needed.

Slipping on a matching pair of low heels, she chanced a look at the clock. It was after nine, and she knew she was lucky her father hadn't come back. She hurried out the door, making sure to lock it, and headed in the direction she knew Sunset Boulevard to be.

* * *

Norma had woken at her usual time, eight, unfazed by the looming appointment. After breakfast she bathed, taking care to wash her hair thoroughly, simply because of the products she used daily. It was still dark, though she had noticed certain streaks beginning to lighten. Once dry, she slid into a beautiful black dress. It was tight and hugged her figure, with a swooping neckline and a drop back.

Her makeup was next, a task that consumed a good chunk of time. First came the base, followed by the concealer, then the powder, blusher, and bronzer. Her eye shadow was next, which today happened to be neutral tones of brown and tan. After that was the eye liner and mascara, followed by the final touch, her lipstick. As always, she wore a red shade, though it was a bit brighter than usual.

Last was her hair. It was curled as she always kept it, but styled so that her headpiece, a simple band of diamonds, could stay in place. Standing, she stood back from the vanity and crossed to her full length, three-way mirror. She posed and turned, checking every inch of herself to make sure she was as close to perfect as possible. Satisfied, she sat down to wait. It was nine-fifty-three.

* * *

Beth finally located 10086 Sunset Boulevard. It had taken some time, and quite a bit of walking, but she had done it. She wasn't late, she was sure of that, because the sun wasn't high enough to signal late morning. Taking a deep breath, she made her way up the winding drive. The house itself looked to be a bit neglected, but she supposed it was hard to keep such a large estate going. Nervously, she made her way to the door and rang the bell.

It was mere seconds before a man opened the door. He was tall and broad-shouldered, managing to look imposing without doing anything. He was dressed in a suit, complete with gloves, leading Beth to believe he was a butler.

"Yes?" he asked in a deep accented voice.

She realized this was the same man she had spoken to on the phone.

"I'm Beth Woods. You spoke with me on the phone yesterday and said Miss Desmond wished to meet me."

As if seeing her for the first time, his eyes widened and he looked her up and down. She immediately felt self-conscious. Was she not dressed properly? But she didn't shift or fidget as she waited to either be dismissed or allowed to enter. Finally, he stepped aside to allow her to enter.

"Come in, Madame is expecting you."

He looked like he had seen a ghost, which she both understood and found humorous. If she'd needed any further convincing that she looked like the star, she had just gotten it. He led her into a large room filled with pictures. There were other things too, the usual furnishings. There were plush chairs and couches, tables holding both pictures and flowers, a desk, a fireplace, and oddly enough, an organ.

"Make yourself comfortable, Madame will be down momentarily."

He left then, presumably to alert Norma of her presence. Rather than sit down, Beth wandered around the room looking at all the pictures. She realized quickly they were all of Norma, and became fascinated by them. They ranged from a very young girl to the young woman she was when she stopped working. What truly amazed her was that no two pictures were alike.

Each was a different pose, a different dress, a different background. All held the same regal air that could only come from Norma Desmond. She was examining a picture that looked to be one of the earliest when she heard the sound of heels on the floor behind her. She turned, and her breath caught. There was Norma Desmond in the flesh, and it was almost as if she were looking in a mirror.

The actress herself stopped suddenly, her eyes growing wide. They simply stared at each other for a minute, enthralled with the sight of the other. It was Beth who sucked up her courage and broke the silence.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Desmond. I'm Elizabeth Woods."

Norma still didn't move or say a word, and Beth began to feel it was a mistake to come. It had never occurred to her that her likeness to the woman might shock her so badly. She certainly didn't want to frighten her or strike her mute. Max, who she just noticed had been standing in the shadows, stepped up behind the older woman. He whispered something to her and she blinked several times before smiling.

"Hello, Miss Woods. Your letter was certainly different than the others I have been accustomed to." She crossed to a small couch and draped herself across it. "Won't you sit down?"

Beth hurried to do as asked, careful to appear calm and not trip. She perched elegantly on the edge of a chair across from the woman, her back straight and ankles crossed, the very picture of grace. Norma was struck once again by how eerily similar they were. Snapping herself out of it, she began playing hostess, something she hadn't done in several years.

"Would you like something to drink? Champagne perhaps?"

"Oh, no thank you. I'm not old enough to drink."

Norma thought she was joking. Not old enough to drink? She had to be at least sixteen. She herself had had her first drink at fourteen. She was more than old enough.

"Max! Bring something to drink."

They sat in silence as he carried out his orders. Norma looked Beth over critically, so critically the girl had to remind herself not to squirm. Max returned with flutes of champagne, and Norma easily took one. He offered the other to Beth, and she tried again to politely decline.

"Nonsense, take it. Take it!" Norma demanded when the girl didn't immediately do as told.

Beth took the glass with a shaky hand, careful not to spill it, but she didn't take a sip either. Norma watched her, still completely convinced she was older than her actual age.

"How old are you, Elizabeth?"

"Twelve, Ma'am."

The older woman couldn't help it, she laughed. The girl was obviously older than that!

"Oh come, you can be honest with me. How old are you really?"

"Twelve."

Norma began to get angry. She had never been fond of people lying to her, especially not someone she wasn't very well acquainted with.

"Enough games. You've got to be at least sixteen."

"With all due respect," Beth began slowly, sensing she was playing with fire, "I really am twelve. I look a lot older than I am. But I was born in 1930, you can ask anyone on the lot at Paramount."

"Paramount?" Norma asked, sitting up. "Paramount studios?"

"Yes Ma'am, my father works there."

"Enough calling me ma'am, it makes me feel a thousand years old. Call me Norma."

"Okay...Norma."

"What does your father do? By any chance does he know Mr. DeMille?" she asked hopefully, her eyes lighting.

"Yes, he knows Mr. DeMille, but he isn't an actor or even a producer. He isn't even an assistant," she said somewhat sadly. "He's only a lighting technician."

Norma visibly deflated, lying back against the couch.

"Oh, well then..." she trailed, not entirely sure how to finish the sentence.

"Norma," Beth said quietly, "what was it like to act in silent movies? It looked amazing."

The older woman brightened immediately. She loved nothing more than discussing her career.

"It was, so wonderful," she breathed. "In those days, there was no dialogue. We didn't need dialogue, we had faces. The code was non-existent. We could do almost anything we wanted. And the scripts, oh, the scripts! They were breathtaking.

"Back then stars were on a pedestal the public worshipped. I had thousands of fans, of course I still do, but back then I couldn't go anywhere without someone approaching me and asking for my autograph."

Beth sat enraptured by the star, completely enthralled with the story. Max stood nearby in shadows, watching her. There was something about her he liked, something other than her uncanny resemblance to Norma. She seemed genuinely interested in her as a person, not just worshipping her as a fan.

"Silent films were the best ever made. Have you ever seen a silent movie, Elizabeth?"

"Yes, I've seen all of yours."

Norma drew back a bit, shocked at the response. She hadn't expected her to have seen any, let alone all hers.

"All my pictures?" she asked, shock evident in her voice.

"Yes, my favorite was _Male and Female_. The scene where the lion stood on your back was mystifying."

This girl had seen all her pictures. Max was impressed. Not even Norma had prints of all her films. He wanted to step closer and join the conversation, find out what she thought of some of the shots. But he remained still, knowing it was not his place.

He watched them go on and on about her films. If she liked them, if they were difficult to shoot, costumes, and was she scared when she did some of the trickier shots? At one point, the girl got up and sat beside Norma to hear her better. He interrupted them when she was in the middle of her swimming story to alert them it was time for lunch.

"The shot had to perfect, because we could only do it once. I couldn't swim, but there I was getting ready to jump into the ocean off of a pier that was at least nine feet above the water. They had offered to give me a stunt double, but I wouldn't let them. The director called action, I took a big breath, and-"

"Madame, forgive for interrupting, but it's time for lunch."

Norma whipped around to face him, a glare fixed on her features.

"Max! You know better than to interrupt me!" She turned back to Beth.

"What happened then, Norma?"

"I jumped of course. I remember the water was ice cold."

"Were you scared?"

"Terrified. I struggled to get back to the surface. When I came up I saw they had lowered a ladder for me. I-well, I don't really know what I did, but I managed to get to the ladder. I climbed up, and one of the assistants wrapped me in a blanket. The whole crew was congratulating me. The shot had been perfect, and I had jumped."

"That's amazing. I don't think I could've done that."

Norma smiled, soaking up the praise like a sponge. Max wheeled in a cart with two trays, presumably lunch. The older woman ignored him, too focused on the conversation. Beth noticed him, but followed Norma's lead.

"What about you, Elizabeth? Tell me about yourself."

"Well, like I said, I'm twelve and my father is the light technician for Paramount. I grew up there, playing on the back lot and fake sets. They wanted me as a child actor, and after that my father wouldn't let me go back. After that I stayed with my neighbor. I guess they forgot about me."

She shrugged, the idea not troubling her.

"I started school not long after, but it wasn't until I was nine that I started being compared to you, and subsequently found out who you were."

Her story was not impressive, not in the least, but what intrigued Norma was their resemblance. She wanted to know how someone she wasn't related to could pass as a younger version of herself.

"Elizabeth, how do you look so much like me?"

The girl looked utterly confused and unsure of how to answer.

"I'm not sure. I've always looked like this. I think it's why the studio noticed me when I was so young."

"But if you really are twelve as you say, and I'm beginning to believe you are, you look so much older."

"Yes, I've been told," Beth said with a blush of embarrassment. "But after I found out who you were I always took it as a compliment."

Norma beamed, and uncovered both trays with a flourish. Beneath was some of the most foreign food Beth had ever seen. Not that it wasn't common in America, it was just extremely expensive. They continued to talk, eating without really thinking about it. Roast duck breast, salad, bread, all of it slowly disappeared without either really noticing.

"Would you like to see the house?" Norma asked as they were finishing up.

"That would be amazing, thank you," Beth said in awe.

"Max!" the actress called over her shoulder, her gaze never straying from the girl.

"Yes, Madame?"

"Take away the trays, we've finished." She stood and stretched, relishing the feeling of her muscles unkinking. She held out a hand to help the girl up, and easily pulled her onto her feet once the grip was secure. "We'll start with the upstairs, come along."

They ascended the grand staircase and were faced with a hall. All the doors were shut, so Beth had no idea what lay inside. Norma gestured to the room at the far end of the hall closest to the top of the stairs. It was to the left from their viewpoint, and the girl waited anxiously to hear what was behind it.

"That's my bedroom, but I don't show it to guests. All the rooms in this part of the house are bedrooms, each furnished differently." She led them down the hall to the right, and turned left at the end. There was a small corridor there that connected to a back stairway, and soon they were standing in a magnificent kitchen. "As you can see, this is the kitchen. I don't spend much time here, it's Max's domain."

They continued on into another hall, where Norma pointed out a massive library. They entered, and it was beautiful. Ceiling to floor bookshelves, all in dark wood. The furniture was dark as well, and overall the room gave off a comforting feeling. The only slip in the illusion was the layer of dust that covered the books.

It was apparent that Max had tried to keep it spotless, but with such a large space and so much to do with the rest of the house he must've prioritized. It wasn't long before they left there, continuing deeper into the old villa. There was a formal dining room, also dull from lack of use. There was a music room, a proper one, with a piano and a few violins.

"I didn't know you played," Beth said as she ghosted her hand over the top. "No interviews or articles mentioned it."

"I don't, but I knew several people who did. Do you play?"

"Not very well, but enough to get by."

"Play something for me."

"I-I don't know, it's been a while."

"Play."

Taking a deep breath, Beth sat on the bench and blew lightly on the keys to remove the thin layer of dust that had settled on them. She sat forward and propped open the lid, as it was a baby grand, and sat back, thinking of a song. She eventually settled for something she had memorized a few years back when she was still in lessons. Her fingers settled lightly on the keys and she began to play Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven. It flowed easily, yet she still made mistakes.

Luckily, Norma didn't seem to notice.

"That was beautiful," Norma said as the final notes echoed around the room, her eyes closed.

"Thank you," the girl whispered.

"If you can play like that why do you not do it professionally?"

"Because that's the hardest song I learned. It took me over a year to memorize it."

Norma was silent, her eyes still closed. She sprang up suddenly and unexpectedly, startling Beth.

"Come, there's still a few rooms left."

She followed the older woman obediently, curious as to what else the house held. Down the hall a door was open, allowing sunlight to stream out. They stepped inside, and were immediately bathed in sunlight. It was a sunroom, the ceiling and three walls made of glass. It looked out onto what once must have been a garden, but was now nothing more than weeds.

"This used to be my favorite room," Norma said quietly.

Beth had the sense to stay silent and allow the older woman to think. She snapped out of it soon enough and stepped out of the room, leaving Beth to scramble after her. The next room was empty, but it bore odd markings on the walls as if something with very large claws had been there.

"This is where I kept my pet tiger. He was a magnificent animal, never harmed me." She sighed, the sound filled with sadness. "Unfortunately, he didn't care for one of my old acquaintances and as a result was shot."

"I'm sorry," Beth said softly, unsure of how to respond.

"Yes, well," Norma said as she ushered her back into the hall. "There's one last room, but we won't go down."

"Down?"

"Oh yes, it's in the cellar. It's a bowling alley."

Beth stood slack-jawed, for the first time struck speechless. Who else had a bowling alley in their house?! It was incredibly cool. She voiced this thought to the older woman, who only laughed and told her plenty of houses had the exact same thing. She then led them back into the room filled with pictures.

The older woman all but collapsed on a love seat, Beth sitting on the far end by her legs.

"Would you like to see the memory books?" the older woman asked.

"Okay."

"Max!" Norma yelled.

"Yes, Madame?"

"Bring the memory books."

"From which year, Madame?"

"Don't ask stupid questions, bring them all!"

Beth soon found out his question had been completely reasonable when he returned with a stack of albums so tall he couldn't see over the top of it. He deposited them on the floor in front of the women, and stepped to the side.

"Will there be anything else, Madame?"

"No, thank you, Max."

Norma selected a book from the top of the pile. In gold script, it had the years 1918-1919 across the cover. And so Beth's journey into the actress' past began. They sat for hours looking through the albums, Norma explaining a clipping or picture, eyes flashing at some of the lies that had been printed by gossip columnists. They were so deep into the stack that time got away from them.

It wasn't until a clock somewhere deep in the house chimed four times that Beth realized how late it was. She jumped up with a gasp, startling the older woman.

"I have to go!" she said frantically.

"But we haven't finished the books yet," Norma said from her place on the love seat.

"I'm sorry Norma, but I have to be home before my father. He doesn't know I'm here and I have to cook dinner."

She said all this in a rush, and she was rocking on the balls of her feet. Norma wanted to know more about this. Why did the girl seem so afraid of her father? And why was she cooking? Couldn't her mother do it?

"Why do you have to cook dinner? Can't your mother do it?"

"Norma, it's a really long story, but I really don't have the time. I'm sorry, but it was an absolute dream to have met you."

Max, who had shown up at some point during the conversation, was leading her toward the door.

"Wait!" Norma called as she followed them into the entry hall. "Can you come back tomorrow, Elizabeth? I enjoyed your company. It's nice to have someone to talk to who's interested in my films."

The girl smiled, and the older woman smiled back.

"Yes, I can come, but it will have to be after three and I can only stay a few hours."

"After three? Why?"

"I have school."

"Can't you just not go?"

"I can't skip again. If my father found out he would ground me for life."

"Oh," Norma said, disappointed she couldn't persuade the girl to come earlier. "Well, then I'll see you tomorrow afternoon, Elizabeth."

"Tomorrow afternoon," the girl confirmed as she stepped out the door. "Oh, and Norma? Call me Beth."

"Until tomorrow, Beth." She stepped out of the door and began her walk home. "Max."

"Yes, Madame?"

"Make sure she gets home safely."

"Yes, Madame."


	3. Back Again

Norma had been restless all day. To be honest, it was driving Max crazy, and that seldom happened. She wouldn't stop pacing the house. The whole house, not just her bedroom, and she was mumbling to herself. He knew she was trying to crack the mystery of how Beth looked so much like her without being hers.

He kept silent, having no ideas of his own, and watched to make sure she didn't hurt herself. Seven hours was a long time to wait for company, and he was beginning to wish the young lady had agreed to miss school. He could sense Norma was becoming attached to her, though even she wasn't aware of it yet, and knew if the girl continued to come some new arrangement would have to be made. At three o'clock, Norma stopped pacing and seated herself in 'The Sanctuary' as Max called it. With a silent sigh, he stayed close to the front door, knowing that it was going to be at least another thirty minutes before Beth would make her appearance.

From what she told him last night, her school was actually not that far away, but on foot it would take some time.

_**Last Night**_

He had been following her in the car for a few blocks now. She was walking calmly and happily, still in a daze, he assumed, from meeting Norma. So content was she that he almost wrecked the car when her voice floated back to him.

"I know you're following me, Max. I heard the car start not too long after I was in the driveway." He didn't reply, wondering if that might make her change her mind. She sighed and stopped completely. "Max, I know it's you."

She turned and walked back to where he was idling. He tried to keep the surprise off his face, but didn't succeed completely. The girl laughed a little at the shock she had caused, and to him it sounded like bells, completely different than Norma, but beautiful all the same.

"I'm sorry, but I had to say something. It was awkward to keep going knowing you were following me."

"It's all right, Miss Woods."

"Please call me Beth," she said as she leaned on the door. "I'm not Norma. Heck, I'm not even a teenager yet."

"Okay, Miss Beth."

She sighed, exasperated at the formality.

"Max, I talked to Norma a long time today. She is truly amazing, but I think you know that. Which brings me to what I want to ask you. How long have you known her?"

"I discovered her when she was sixteen. She was every bit as beautiful, talented, and energetic as she is now."

"Max, why have you stayed with her all these years? I know you used to be a great director."

She had an inkling of why he'd stayed, after all, she'd seen the papers about both the marriage and the divorce. Max knew that too, just as he knew that the girl didn't seem bothered by the fact.

"I found life unbearable after she left me."

She laid a hand atop one that was on the wheel.

"You're a good man, Max. Most men would've been bitter and resentful. It takes a real man to not only forgive, but continue to love."

"How are you so wise?"

"I read a lot," she said with a smile. "And of course, watch movies."

He didn't smile, he hardly did anymore, but he covered her hand with his other for a brief moment.

"Come along Miss Beth, Madame will be worried something has happened to you."

"I really like her, Max. Not just as an actress, but as a person. She's really very kind when you talk with her for a while."

"Yes, she is."

* * *

She had walked alongside the car for the remainder of the trip. They continued to talk, her coaxing information out of him, mainly about himself. They talked films, and he was shocked to hear some of her ideas on how to shoot a certain sequence. They were amazing, and he assured her she'd make a fortune if she ever wanted to direct. She'd laughed him off and told him she'd leave it to the greats.

He'd left her a block away from her house, staying to make sure she'd made it safely inside. She had beaten her father, luckily enough. He liked her, which was a good thing, as Norma did, too. He just worried her father would prevent her coming if he found out. He knew her father, and knew how much he despised actors, Norma especially, simply because she had slapped him when he'd said something lewd to her onset.

Had it been her fault that her beauty was being shown off in a gown that was scandalously low for that time? No, and just because she was a woman didn't give him the right to ask her to sleep with him. Or rather, suggest it as crassly as he could. So no, he wouldn't approve of his daughter being friends with the woman who rejected him once upon a time. As he stood waiting for Beth to come, he wondered if she knew any of the history between Norma and her father.

* * *

Beth sat in last period anxiously tapping her pencil. There were only five minutes until the final bell, and then she would be off to Norma's. Her teacher was droning on about math, something about pre-algebra, but how could she could focus when she was going back to 10086 Sunset Boulevard? She had thought their meeting would be a once-in-lifetime thing. She snapped out of her musings when she heard laughter.

Reluctantly, she turned from the clock to face her teacher. As she had thought, he had asked her a question.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

"Daydreaming again, Miss Woods? Solve the problem on the blackboard, please."

She looked at it, and realized she had no idea what to do. It was a triangle, one side marked with twenty feet, one with eighteen, and one with an 'x'. She supposed she had to find the missing side, but how?

"Miss Woods, we're waiting."

She opened her mouth to give a fake answer, and just as she did the bell rang. She closed her mouth and smirked at her teacher, noting with pleasure how his face tinted the lightest shade of red. She grabbed her books and stepped out of the room. Absently, she wondered how much Norma knew about conjugating verbs, as that was her English homework. Or maybe Max knew about it since English wasn't his first language.

Either way, she'd finish her homework before second period. And if she didn't, well, seeing Norma was more important. As she began the walk to the mansion, she wondered if the star would even remember asking her to come back. Max had told her that she was forgetful sometimes. He had even explained the older woman was prone to depression, something she almost couldn't believe.

He had told her of the attempts to kill herself, but that had been years before, when the talking pictures first came out. She had learned there was no gas in her room, that the house had no locks, and that he even had to hide his razors extra carefully. It concerned her, because she didn't want her to hurt herself. She had told Max as much, and he'd told her quietly that she'd be the first one in many years since himself to think that way. She looked down at her watch, speeding up her pace when she realized it was already three-fifteen.

She had told Max three-thirty, and three-thirty it would be.

* * *

Max was beginning to worry. Beth had promised three-thirty, and it wasp already three-twenty-five. Norma was curled on a couch, tensely waiting. He kept shooting glances at her as the minutes ticked by, watching and seeing how as each minute passed a little more hurt appeared on her face. He was just going to make an excuse for the girl when the bell rang.

Norma sat upright, and he hurried to the door. Beth was doubled over on the other side, panting and clutching her side.

"Hi, Max," she managed to get out in between gasps.

"Hello, Miss Beth. Madame is waiting for you."

"How is she?" she asked as she straightened, as if she had known her longer than a day.

And perhaps she had, somehow. Perhaps through her movies or interviews she was the only person who knew her better than Max.

"She has been on edge all day. She was beginning to worry you weren't coming," he replied in hushed tones.

"She hasn't tried anything?"

"No." He glanced over his shoulder, knowing that if they didn't hurry Norma would seek them out. "Did you run here?"

"Just the last few blocks," she smiled as she followed him into the same room filled with pictures. Her eyes settled on the woman sitting on the couch and acting calm and uncaring. "Hello, Norma," she said, smiling fondly.

"Hello, Beth. Now, where did we leave off?"

Happily, the girl put down her books and took a seat beside the older woman to continue looking through the memory books. Max watched from the side as always, though now Beth knew why. It took a mere hour to finish the albums, and after that she calmly asked Norma about conjugating verbs.

"Norma, what do you know about conjugating verbs?"

"What is that? And why are you asking me about it?"

"It's something I have to do for English, and I was hoping you could help me, but it's okay. Max!"

He came immediately, used to Norma calling him.

"Yes, Miss Beth?"

"Max, do you know how to conjugate verbs?"

"Yes, Miss Beth."

"Will you help me?"

He glanced at Norma, gauging her reaction. She looked indifferent, but her eyes revealed her curiosity.

"Of course, Miss Beth."

Beth reached down and got her English textbook, notebook, and a pen. She settled back against the couch, Norma changing her position so she could watch. After Norma had settled her back against the armrest and swung her legs up on the cushion, they began. Some were easy, and Beth was able to do them herself. When she couldn't, she would read them aloud and Max would help her.

To her surprise, Norma picked up on it quickly, and was soon giving answers faster than Max. They finished quickly with three of them working on it.

"Thank you," Beth said as she put her things away. "I couldn't have finished that without your help." The clock struck five, and she stood and gathered her things. "I should be going."

Sadness flashed in Norma's eyes, and Beth felt bad to have caused it, but she knew she had to go.

"Must you go already?" Norma asked, trying for all the world not to sound sad and clingy.

"Yes, I'm sorry. I have to get home and start dinner before my father gets home."

"Why do you have to cook? Doesn't your mother do that?"

Beth bit her lip, unsure if she should reveal anything about her mother. Norma was looking at her expectantly, and she could sense Max's curiosity even though he wasn't looking directly at her. She sat her books back down and sank back into her place beside the older woman.

"I don't have a mother." Norma's eyes widened and she pushed herself into a half-sitting position. "She died in childbirth with me. My father has raised me alone all this time. He's a strict parent, and insists I learn to sew and cook so that I can make someone a good wife one day."

"That's absurd! A good housewife! Has he ever thought you might not want to be a housewife?" Beth remained silent. "Well? Do you want to be a housewife?"

"No," the girl answered in nearly a whisper. "I'm not sure what I want to do, but settling down and living a quiet life is definitely not it." She sighed and continued with her story. "As I said, I played on Paramount's back lot as a child. My father didn't want to take me there, but as a single parent with a child not yet in school what choice did he have?

"He forbid me from interacting with any of the directors or actors. I couldn't understand why, so when he was up above the set I would sneak away and talk to some of the actors and stars." She smiled fondly as she remembered her time on set. "Joan Crawford had just started out and was very kind, as was Fred Astaire and Bing Crosby. I would always get back to where my father left me when the director called cut.

"One day, we on a DeMille picture and I was playing with some sort of prop. I didn't mean to, but I somehow worked my way over to the actual set. Luckily, they had just cut. Mr. DeMille stopped rearranging the extras and couched down in front of me. Naturally, I thought I had interrupted a shot and was in trouble.

"I started to cry and say I was sorry. He assured me that no, I wasn't in trouble, but that I was a beautiful child and he needed a little girl for a supporting role in his next picture. Would I be interested? I was about to say yes, of course I was. But my father stormed over and told him no, I wasn't.

"He was polite, but I could tell he was mad. He dragged me away roughly, and took me outside. He screamed at me. I had never seen him like that before. He told me that actors and anybody else in the business were cruel and unforgiving, and that I should never talk to them.

"I stayed with our neighbor for the next few years until I started school. He was rougher with me after that. I have a strict schedule, and I'm not supposed to deviate from it. I get up at five, get ready for school and make breakfast. He leaves first, about six-thirty, and I wash dishes and leave at seven after locking up the house.

"I'm at school from eight until three, and I get home about three-thirty. I have from then until four-thirty to do my homework, and then I start dinner. We eat in silence, and then I clean the house until nine, when I take a bath and go to bed." The clock struck five-thirty and she cringed. "He spanks me if I don't follow the schedule exactly."

Norma sat, unable to respond from the massive range of emotions she was feeling. Rage, sadness, pity, concern, and guilt were just a few. And there was a strong urge to protect, which she didn't understand. Hesitantly, she reached out and laid a hand on the girl's knee. Beth glanced down at it and then covered it with her own, not seeming to think twice.

They sat that way for a few minutes, neither really wanting to speak. Finally, Beth gave Norma's hand one last squeeze and stood, gathering her books once again.

"I really do have to go," she said quietly.

Norma nodded, for the first time understanding.

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

Beth smiled, glad to be invited back.

"Of course." She turned and smiled at Max. "Bye, Max."

She turned and escorted herself to the door. Norma waited until she heard it click before snapping her fingers at Max. He went to her side.

"Make sure she gets home safely. Better yet, drive her."

He could sense the pain and confusion in her voice, and suspected if he looked at her it would be prevalent in her eyes as well.

"Yes, Madame."

She grabbed his arm as he tried to walk away.

"I'm confused, Max. I don't understand..."

He patted her hand gently.

"I do, Madame."

"At least one of us does."

* * *

The drive home had been pleasant but unexpected. Beth and Max had talked the whole way, him giving insight on Norma's confusion and suggesting she try to help her over it the next afternoon. She agreed before thanking him and slipping from the car. She stopped dead in her tracks as she reached the front gate. The lights in the house were on, which meant her father was home.


	4. Maternal Instinct

Beth stared at the house, hand still atop the fence gate. She could feel Max staring at her from down the block and knew if she didn't continue he would come to check on her. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the gate, wincing at its squeak, and continued down the path to the front door. She tried to sneak into the house and to her room, but even as she pushed the door closed she knew she would never make it.

"Elizabeth," her father's voice came from the kitchen, and she winced at the cold tone. Almost slinking, she followed the sound, already formulating an excuse. She stopped just inside the door, head down and shoulders curled forward in a submissive stance. He was facing the wall opposite the table, at which he was sitting. "Come around where I can see you."

Her father, one Albert Woods, was nothing special. He was average looking, in his mid forties, and his hair was graying already. He was tall and wiry from years of lifting heavy light fixtures for Paramount. He had waited until he was in his thirties to marry. His young wife had just turned twenty when they married.

She had been pretty enough, and sweet enough, but she hadn't been his ideal choice for a wife. He had preferred the young extras on set, or occasionally the struggling movie star. He had been a well-known lover, and many women had come to him in the hope he would put in a good word for them with the directors. But that had all changed the day Norma Desmond made a fool of him on a set full of people. The slap had hurt, but what was worse was that he lost all respect from any woman who worked with him.

He had hated actresses ever since, her in particular. But the real slap in the face came when his wife informed him she was pregnant. He didn't want the child, but begrudgingly accepted it and hoped for a boy. Of course it had been a girl, and to top it off he lost his wife, causing him to have to raise it alone. And then as she grew he noticed a striking resemblance to Norma Desmond, which made him shun her further.

And as she grew older it only grew worse. It was apparent she was a dead ringer for the star, and so he formulated a plan. It wasn't as good as revenge on the real woman, but it would have to do. He would set her on a strict schedule, any deviation from which would result in a harsh punishment. He wasn't about to let her think she owned the world just because she was beautiful.

He watched as his child crept around the table slowly. Her head was down, indicating she knew she was in trouble. Good, he did so enjoy administering punishment.

"Where have you been?" he asked quietly.

"I was at a friend's," she replied quietly, still not looking at him. "She asked for help in geography because she was confusing some of the countries and capitals."

His anger dimmed a little. After all, she had never lied to him before, why would she start now?

"You know what time you're supposed to be home."

"Yes, Sir, but I thought I would be home in time."

His anger flared at her feeble excuse. How dare she decide to go somewhere without asking his permission? Beth cringed as she noticed him tense up. Without her permission, her body began to tremble in fear. She watched through a curtain of hair as he stood and came around to stand in front of her.

He eyed the girl for a moment before reaching out and yanking her forward by the hair. She whimpered, but other than that made no sound. With a firm grip on his daughter, he raised his other hand and slapped her. Her head snapped to the side, and Albert found a sick pleasure in inflicting pain on a Norma Desmond look alike. He backhanded her, causing her head to snap to the other side.

He was almost ready to let her go when he smelled a familiar perfume. It was roses, a scent he had only come in contact with one time, many years ago. He pulled her even closer to make sure he wasn't imagining things. It was stronger then, and he shoved her back, making sure he could look into her eyes.

"Where did you get that perfume?"

"I-I don't-"

"Where did you get it?!" Albert asked, shaking her violently.

"Lexi's mother wears it! She must have sprayed some around us!"

"Never wear that scent again!" he yelled, shaking her again and then shoving her to the floor.

She stayed down until his footsteps faded and a door closed in the back of the house. She stood, feeling her muscles protest in response to being shaken. She felt her cheek, knowing instinctively there wouldn't be a mark, only slight swelling. It had started already, perhaps that meant it would go down by the time she went to Norma's the next afternoon. Arms wrapped around herself in a gesture meant to comfort, (and suddenly, for whatever reason, she wished to be with Norma), she walked down the hallway to her room.

She sat on her bed and gazed at the picture she had of Norma. She began to study the makeup, and quietly retrieved her mother's old kit from the shelf in her closet. In front of her bureau, she practiced applying and removing bad makeup and concealer. Once certain she had gotten the hang of it, she prepared her bath, coming up with excuses for her teachers to explain the possible bruises on her arms.

* * *

Her excuses had held, but barely. She ached all over from the previous night, and knew she couldn't risk the same treatment again. She walked the distance from her school to Norma's with her head down, and barely concealed a flinch as Max opened the door. He let her in with no comment, sensing something was wrong without having to ask. Years of living with a woman who starred as a silent film actress allowed him this ability.

"Good afternoon, Miss Beth. Madame is waiting for you in the music room."

"Thanks, Max," she said with a smile as he relieved her of her books.

She winced as he brushed against her arm, but quickly began walking toward the music room. The man tended to the young lady's things, but all the while he was watching her for signs of pain. He sincerely hoped Norma would be able to get her to say what was wrong.

"Hi, Norma," Beth greeted as she stepped into the massive room.

The older woman was curled like a cat on a window seat, but sprang up at the sound of her voice. She came toward her quickly, and Beth smiled, content in the knowledge that she wouldn't hurt her. Norma wrapped her arms around her in a hug for the first time, and Beth tensed reflexively, surprise and pain intermingling. Norma pulled back as soon as she felt the girl go stiff.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Beth replied quickly, too quickly.

"And what is this?" the former actress asked as she wiped at the poorly applied makeup on her arms and face. It came off instantly, and revealed the pale purple bruises underneath. "Makeup? And who caused these bruises?"

The girl's pale skin was marred with ugly black and purple marks, somewhat similar to handprints. She ran a finger down her arm lightly, feeling the muscles ripple as the girl cringed. She looked back up at her, noticing her head was down. She brought her chin up gently, her heart breaking at the sight of tears in eyes so similar to her own.

"Beth," she began gently, "who did this to you?"

"No one, I fell after I got home."

"Beth, these are handprints wrapped around your arm. Please tell me who did it."

The child's chest heaved with a silent sob before she launched herself forward, the emotions swirling within her too much to handle. Norma caught her, surprised at the reaction. Beth began to sob, her tears wetting the woman's shoulder. Norma, overcome by a sudden rush of protectiveness and love for the girl, held her and stroked her back. She was surprised at the anger she felt for whomever had harmed her. She had never felt this way about anyone else, and the feeling still alarmed her.

Finally, Beth's tears tapered off, and she simply grasped Norma's dress and tried to lose herself in the feeling of safety surrounding her. This was what she had been craving the night before, safety and love. It was odd how quickly she had connected to the older woman, but she supposed that when you had two lonely people they were bound to bond quickly.

"My father," she breathed after she had calmed down.

"Hmm?" Norma hummed, having been startled out of my thoughts.

"My father. H-he's the one who...hurt me," Beth finished quietly, her fear of her father returning.

Norma's arms tightened and Beth thought she heard her growl.

"He won't get away with this!" the woman hissed, the anger vibrating in her tone.

"No! You can't do anything!" Beth cried, pulling back out of the hug.

"Why not? He is harming you, his child, and I will not stand for it."

"Because he's still my dad. I can't do that to him."

"You most certainly can. He's a grown man and should know better. What's his name?"

"Al-Albert Woods," Beth answered, overwhelmed with the whole situation.

Norma's eyes flashed as a memory came back to her.

She was young, just beginning her career and only mildly acquainted with Max, not yet married. There had been rumors running through the lot of a stage hand that enjoyed using women as toys, and she was already wary of him. She did not, however, know who he was or what he looked like. So when a young man approached her one day on set she thought nothing of it.

That is, until he suggested in the crudest way possible what he would like to do with her, assuring her that he would put her name in with DeMille, Mayerling, any director she chose. She was disgusted, and promptly slapped him. The whole sound stage went silent, all eyes on them.

"You are a vile human being with no respect for women!" she spat. "Get away from me or I will report you to the president of the studio."

The murmuring that had started up turned into cheering, and the man had begrudgingly backed away. She knew that she would never forget a man as uncouth as he was; Albert Woods.

"I knew your father, once many years ago," she said, and the disgust was evident. "He attempted to persuade me to spend the night with him. I refused, and subsequently destroyed his reputation."

Beth gasped, never having known her father's connection to her favorite star. That would explain why he hated actors so much and prevented her from becoming one as a child.

"Max!" Norma screamed. "Max!"

"Yes, Madam?" he asked, appearing in the doorway.

If he was shocked by the scene in front of him he didn't show it.

"Albert Woods has been abusing Beth. I wish for him to be taken care of."

"As you wish, Madam," Max said, beginning to exit.

"No! Wait!" Beth called, causing him to turn and Norma to look at her curiously.

"Don't call anyone, please! He's my dad, and I know this looks bad but it really isn't! Please don't do anything!"

The two adults looked at each other. Though Norma rarely saw Max as an equal, she felt she needed a second opinion, also something she rarely did. Sighing, she turned back to Beth, who was looking at her with barely concealed terror.

"All right, I'll leave him be for now, but you must promise to tell me if this continues."

"I promise. Thank you, Norma!" Beth smiled. In spite of her worry, Norma couldn't help but smile back. "Do you want me to play for you now?"

"Yes, I was hoping you would."

Max backed out as the first notes of Beethoven's symphony floated out of the room. Once he was out of view he smiled to himself, pleased that Norma seemed to have caught on to her maternal feelings toward the girl. They made a good pair, and he knew now that they would look out for one another. Resuming his sweeping, he relaxed into the sound of the piano floating through the house.


	5. Saved

Beth began to spend more and more of her free time at Norma's. They welcomed her, Max especially, as she kept the woman grounded in the real world instead of her pretend one. Her father grew increasingly abusive, scratches and cuts joining the bruises. Norma grew worried as she watched the happiness fade from the girl's eyes. She had acknowledged that she cared for the girl perhaps more so than was healthy, but how could she not when it was almost as if she were watching herself go through life?

By the time Beth was fifteen she was spending most of her time at Norma's mansion, somehow keeping her father in the dark about her location. She was blossoming into a young woman now, the last of her baby fat melting away and her curves filling out. She and Norma now stood at the same height, and from the back, if her hair was up, they were identical. She could apply makeup correctly now, Norma having sat her down and taught her. She got stared out as she walked down the street, often being mistaken for an actress.

Max, though not her father, was proud of her. She was shaping up to be a lovely young woman, and had turned out to be exactly what Norma needed to help her stay grounded. Beth spent more time with them than her father now, seeking refuge from the anger that surrounded her in his home. She'd often spend weekends with them, indulging Norma in her fantasies that still reared their head. Max wasn't her father, but he felt as if he was, and he knew that sooner or later the time would come when Beth's father would have to be dealt with.

It was storming when Beth tried to leave. As it was Sunday, she had to be home for school the next morning, though she'd rather remain with Max and Norma. As usual, Max had driven her home, though lately he had been reluctant to do so. She knew he wanted her to stay with them permanently, and she wanted to as well, but there was her father to consider. She wasn't sure he could manage on his own, and she was kind enough not to abandon him.

She entered the house as she usually did, silently so as not alert her father of her presence. She wasn't aware he was still up and awaiting her arrival. He'd had enough of her mysterious disappearances and he wanted answers. He had also been drinking, much to her misfortune. He grabbed her as soon as the door clicked shut, and the thunder masked her scream.

"Where have you been?" he snarled, pinning her to the wall by her throat. Beth gasped for air, struggling to free herself. "Where. Have. You. Been?" he asked again, each word punctuated by Beth's head slamming into the wall.

"A...friend's..." she gasped out as he gave her a little air.

"Who?" Albert demanded.

"You don't...know her..."

"I said who! Or do you want to spend the night in the rain?"

"I won't...tell," Beth gasped, wishing for the world that Max would save her.

Had it not been raining and had he heard her scream, he would have and she knew it. As it was he had driven back to the mansion thinking all was well.

Beth felt the punch as it hit her stomach, followed by another and another until she blacked out from the pain and lack of oxygen.

* * *

She awoke, cold and shivering, on her front lawn. The rain was still pouring down, and the low rumbles of thunder signaled another storm approaching. She pushed herself up, wincing as she did so. It hurt to breathe, and she could feel her body protest to the motion. Her neck was already bruised and swollen from her father's grip, and her stomach ached from the punches. She didn't know what else he had done to her, but she did know that she was leaving and never coming back.

She pushed herself to her feet, took a moment to get used to the pain that washed over her, and set off unsteadily for 10086 Sunset Boulevard, unaware that her father was following her. It took her twice or perhaps three times as long as it should have to reach the mansion, the cold and her wounds fogging her mind. She got turned around several times, and by the time the mansion loomed in front of her the second round of the storm was in full blast. The house was dark, so she suspected that it was quite late. Struggling, she made it to the front door and rang the bell repeatedly until the lights began flashing on. She wrapped her arms around herself and waited, finally allowing her tears to fall.

Max stormed to the door, ready to throttle whoever had dared to wake up Norma at that hour. She waited on the landing above him, glaring at the door. He threw it open, for once letting his professional mask fall. He lost all his anger at the sight of Beth, trembling, soaked, and bruised, standing at the door.

"Max!" she sobbed, and the sound of her voice sent Norma flying down the stairs.

The man helped her into the house gently, mindful of her injuries. Norma gasped at the sight of her before gathering her in a hug. Her skin was like ice and she began rubbing it in hope of generating some warmth. She tried her best to ignore the wounds, her main focus getting the girl warm. Out on the street, Albert watched his daughter disappear into the mansion, vowing to wait a bit and then confront the people who were helping her.

"Max! Call a doctor!" Norma yelled frantically, unaware that he was already dialing the phone. "What happened?"

"My father demanded to know where I'd been and I refused to tell him. He choked me, I passed out and woke up on the lawn."

"I mean it this time, Beth. He's going to jail if it's the last thing I do."

Beth didn't respond, her hope her father could change shattered. She didn't care anymore, they could do what they liked to him. Max appeared behind them and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. She accepted it gratefully, and allowed Norma to guide her over to a couch. She curled into the woman's side, desperate for her warmth.

The three were startled by a banging on the door. Max, knowing it couldn't be the doctor so soon, cautiously answered it. He glowered at the man on the other side and received a glare in return.

"Max," Albert bit out, "why am I not surprised?"

At the sound of her father's voice, Beth gasped and hid her face in Norma's shoulder. The older woman tensed, her old loathing coming back full force coupled with hate.

"Mr. Woods, you're not welcome here."

"I don't give a damn if I'm welcomed or not, I want my daughter! And you can tell that old bitch in there to get her claws off her!" He managed to push past Max, storming into the house until he caught sight of Beth. "Elizabeth, come here." She didn't move, and his face flushed with anger. "Come. Here."

"She's not going anywhere with you," Norma said, standing to face him and looking regal despite being barefaced and in her nightgown.

"I never asked you, bitch," Albert spat, trying to approach his daughter.

Max stepped in his way, determined to protect the girl he saw as a daughter.

"I think you should go now, Mr. Woods," Max said.

"Not without Elizabeth."

"Dad, get out," the girl said, standing and facing him.

"Elizabeth, I'm warning you..."

"No, I'm not going to listen to you any longer. You've never been a father to me, so I'm not going to go anywhere with you."

"Fine. Where will you live? How will you survive?"

He smirked, thinking he had won.

"She'll stay here," Norma said. "Now get out before I have you arrested."

"You won't win this," Albert said as he left. "I'll get her back."

He passed the doctor on the way out, and the man entered into a tense environment utterly confused.

"Max, you know what to do," Norma said, reclaiming her seat beside the exhausted girl.

With a nod, he went to make a call to the police.

"Now then," the doctor said as he sat down his bag, "who's the patient?"

"Beth," Norma replied, helping the girl to sit up.

"Hello Beth, let's see what the problem is, hmm?" He was astounded by the number of bruises on her body. "I believe her stomach and spleen are all right, perhaps slightly bruised. I'm more concerned about her exposure to the elements. Though hypothermia hasn't yet set in it isn't far away. She should be all right if kept warm. If any pain increases or her torso remains swollen after a week I recommend immediate medical attention. Feel free to call me if her condition worsens."

Max showed him out, promising to take good care of her, not bothering to correct the man in his assumption that it was his daughter. Norma was already helping Beth up the stairs and into the room next to hers. He waited until he was sure she had finished changing before entering. Norma was sitting on the side of the bed, stroking Beth's hair off her forehead. She was almost asleep, her ordeal wearing her out.

He watched from the doorway as Norma kissed her head before rising and turning off the lights, going into her own room and shutting the connecting doors. He would never reveal that Beth had been mistaken for their daughter, afraid it would send her over the edge into insanity, as her same moments were becoming increasingly fewer the older she got. Beth helped, and without her he knew Norma would already be gone. He watched the girl sleep for a few moments before closing the door. As he shut off the rest of the lights in the house, he couldn't help but wonder how they were going to raise her.


	6. Family

He needn't have worried about anything. He soon discovered that Beth, though she was in the awkward stage between child and adult, didn't need much help with anything. Yes, she needed the occasional advice, but that fell to Norma, as it was a mother's touch she had been missing. He mainly stood by as protector should anything go amiss.

At first the two had a hard time adjusting to Beth being there full-time, even though he and Norma had wanted it for a long time. It was just unusual to see her early in the morning until she went to bed. Norma was slower in adapting than he, sometimes forgetting they now had a child. Beth was as calm as could be expected, taking the week she needed to heal to get used to the idea.

Max was the one who saw her first, as he was up before her to begin readying for the day. She would prepare for school and he would see her off, sometimes he would drive her, and then return to wait on Norma to wake up. At first, the older woman was agitated that she didn't see the girl until after school as usual, but Beth calmed her by explaining that to see her she'd need to be up before six-thirty, which she abhorred. So she settled down and allowed the routine to continue as it was, though Max could tell she wished for Beth to be around more frequently during the day.

Thus, a new routine was established, one that, for the first time, wasn't completely centered on Norma.

* * *

One thing was abundantly clear: Beth was not Norma. No matter how much she looked like her she didn't share any of her mannerisms, something Max constantly found refreshing and was shocked by. She helped him keep up the house, cleaning and washing dishes, even cooking occasionally. Norma disapproved he knew, but she didn't have it in her to discourage the girl, not when it made her happy. She was still, somehow despite everything she'd gone through, innocent to an extent, and enjoyed such mundane tasks.

Max would often find her in the kitchen baking or in some other room scrubbing away her frustrations if she'd had a particularly bad day. On these days she avoided Norma like poison, curious as she was normally her shadow, and the older woman would mope around depressed until Beth smothered her with affection. He was curious as to why she did this, and finally, after the third time he found her scrubbing a floor in a week, asked her. She put down her brush and sighed, brushing her hair out of her face.

"It's...it's nothing really, I suppose," she began, hoping to avoid the conversation.

"Miss Beth, anything that upsets you is important."

She smiled at him, the smile that made her look years older than she was.

"Max, honestly, I just..." She sighed. "Sometimes I regret looking the way I do."

"What do you mean?" he asked, honestly confused.

"Like...like Norma," she said, dropping her voice in case the older woman was anywhere near.

"But Miss Beth, I thought you enjoyed the praise," he said, astounded that she resented her appearance.

"I do, mostly. But sometimes it's hard to be identical to a star. I always get compared to her, always. I'm almost sixteen, and I guess, I guess I just want to be a separate person. I love her, Max, don't get me wrong, but I'm not her, and I never will be."

He was beginning to understand. After all, Norma was a legend, and he supposed a young girl would have trouble with the comparison occasionally.

"Don't tell her, Max, please. It would kill her, you know it would. You know she loves me and treats me as if I'm her little doll. I don't want to hurt her."

"I understand, Miss Beth. I will not speak of this to Madame."

"Thank you, Max," she said with a smile, hugging him before abandoning her brush to find Norma.

So that was it, he mused as he finished what she had started, identity issues. She was struggling, under Norma's shadow, to find herself. He had faith she would in time, most children did eventually, some sooner than others. He listened to the sound of laughter Beth pulled from Norma, and though she had just confessed a huge secret, he couldn't bring himself to hold it against her. She made them happy, something they hadn't been for a long while.

* * *

Beth's sixteenth birthday was a large affair. At least it was for Norma, who rarely left the house. She had the pool filled and an abundance of food brought in, though it was only the three of them who celebrated. Gifts Norma had sent for were piled high, and it obviously overwhelmed the young woman. Max couldn't bring himself to think of her as a girl anymore, not when she carried herself with such grace and maturity.

The "party" was quite festive, a large cake completing the setting. Beth was laughing as she blew out her candles, one hand wrapped around Norma's, the other grasping his. He looked on proudly as she made her wish, barely keeping a straight face when some icing "mysteriously" ended up on Norma's cheek. A war then broke out, and it had been so many years since he had seen the older woman act that way, perhaps since her last picture, that he didn't even mind the icing everywhere. They were both breathless from laughing, covered in sticky sugar and wrapped around the other, keeping the other up.

"Norma," Beth said, still a bit breathless but mostly recovered, "will you teach me to swim?"

"Darling," Norma said, sobering, "can't you swim?"

"No, I've never had the chance."

"Well we can't have that," the older woman replied. "Max!"

"Yes, Madame?" he asked, stepping forward from his shelter from the icing war.

"Get the pool ready while we change. I'm going to teach Beth to swim."

He did as asked, laying out towels across the chairs and setting out her sunglasses. He was actually a little excited. Norma hadn't been in the water since the early thirties, over a decade before. He was standing at attention when she marched out of the house, leading a shy looking Beth, both clad in bikinis. He was immediately stunned at the amount of skin on display.

They were extremely new, only four months revealed from France, and shocking. Norma had seen them on display in one of the department stores while she was shopping for Beth, and immediately ordered several in various designs direct from Paris. They had arrived just days before her birthday, and it was obvious Beth was uncomfortable wearing it. He would have thought Norma would have been, but she was still mostly fit for her age and still looked good, and she knew it. He couldn't help but stare at her as she passed, remembering long ago nights of passion.

November 17th, he vowed, was a day he would never forget, not only because it was Beth's birthday, but also because he had seen Norma in a bikini. She beckoned for Beth to join her at the edge of the water, and the young woman did so, though she did it slowly, her nerves clearly showing.

"It's all right, darling," Norma cooed when she noticed her hesitance. "It's quite easy. I'm sure you'll learn quickly." She then dove into the water, and Beth watched in awe. She came up smiling, glistening and beautiful. "Come on, down the ladder."

Beth obeyed, gripping the metal tightly once she was in. Norma swam to her and took her waist, easily supporting her slight weight in the water, and pulled her into the center, where she began to teach her the basics of swimming. It went well, extremely well, and before long Beth was swimming on her own, much to the joy of both adults. Norma then decided to begin using the diving board, and with Max and Beth cheering her on, Max silently of course, she dove once again. Beth applauded her when she surfaced, promptly deciding that she was going to try to dive as well.

Norma and Max watched anxiously as she entered the water, relieved when she resurfaced fairly quickly.

"Wonderful, Beth, just wonderful," Norma praised, proud of her.

"Thank you," Beth said, nearly biting her tongue to keep the word "mama" in her mouth.

She had no idea how the older woman would react to the title, and didn't want to set off an episode, especially in the water.

They swam for a while longer before each grew tired. Norma decided to do a last dive before drying off, and Beth sat on the side and watched, her legs dangling in the water. Norma dove, resurfaced, and promptly slapped her arms over her chest. Her top had come undone with the force of the last entrance, leaving her chest bare. Beth gasped, barely containing her laughter as she slid back into the water to help her "mother" recover her top.

It was the first and last time Norma would wear a bikini.

* * *

Later that night as the two women readied for bed, Beth pulled Max aside, and asked him a question that would change his life.

"Max," she began, and he could practically see her nerves and tension. "I...I want to ask you something. This has been the best birthday I can remember, but even though I got so many presents, there's something I want that I didn't get." He heard her out, knowing instinctively it wasn't something that could be bought, as Beth wasn't spoiled. "I was wondering if...if I could call you daddy."

He could have sworn he felt his heart stop. He had never expected the affection he felt for her to be returned, never in his life. But it appeared he was lucky. He realized she was beginning to get nervous and had taken his silence for an answer when she dropped her gaze and her shoulders slumped. She began to turn away, hurt painting her features. He reached out and grasped her shoulder gently, and she looked at him with hope.

"Of course you may. I would love nothing more," he managed to reply as the shock began to leave him.

Beth gave him a blinding smile, wrapping herself around him in a hug.

"Thank you, Daddy," she whispered.

She went to her room then, leaving him relishing in his new title. And he couldn't help but wonder if she viewed Norma as a mother, though he wouldn't ask.

* * *

Christmas was just as big an affair as Beth's birthday had been. Max couldn't remember the last time Norma had celebrated Christmas, but Beth had breathed life into the house, and Norma was eager to please. A large tree was brought in and decorated, as was the interior of the house, and for the first time in years the mansion looked alive. Presents were piled under the tree, a sea of them enough for ten people. Beth grew more excited as the holiday drew nearer, and began baking relentlessly.

The house constantly smelled of cookies or spices, but Max didn't mind. It made her happy, and saved him some work. School went on break for the holidays, and at some point between stringing lights and rearranging furniture, Beth revealed to him that she wouldn't be returning after New Years.

"But why? I thought you were doing well," he asked.

"I am, but it's so boring," she shrugged. "Besides," and she lowered her voice, glancing around the room and continuing when Norma was nowhere to be found, "it's a present for Mama."

She had taken to referring to her as such when she was speaking to Max, knowing he wouldn't mention it to her. Neither knew how she would react, but both suspected it wouldn't be good. At forty-six, Norma still dressed and behaved as if she were twenty-five, and both were afraid to disrupt her illusion.

"She will like it," Max responded, fully aware of how much Norma longed for Beth to be home more.

* * *

Christmas morning dawned bright and early, and with the beginning of a new day came Beth. She slipped through the connecting doors to Norma's room silently, observing the woman sleep for a bit. She looked younger in sleep, and she was once again struck by how much they looked alike. Shaking off her monetary delay, she crept to the side of the bed, debating how best to wake the older woman. Carefully, she slid onto the bed, making sure not to jar it too much.

Grinning at the thought of what she was about to do, she angled her body so she wouldn't hurt the woman before collapsing on top of her.

"Wake up! It's Christmas!" she yelled, not caring in the least that she sounded younger than her sixteen years.

Norma jerked awake, startled and disoriented for a minute before grasping her surroundings. She couldn't bring herself to be angry at the overly excited brunette bouncing on top of her, too amused at the sight to even think of getting angry.

"All right, darling, all right. I'm awake," she managed, half-laughing. She yawned, nudging the young woman to the side. "What time is it?"

"I don't know, I didn't look. Six-thirty maybe?"

Norma barely suppressed a rather unladylike groan. She hated mornings, had made it a point when she was still working to never arrive on-set before ten. But she still sat up and humored her little look-alike, knowing it was the first real Christmas she'd had. Beth could barely contain herself. She'd never really celebrated before, and definitely not with people who truly loved her, so she couldn't wait for the day to begin.

She grabbed Norma's hand as soon as the woman pulled on her robe, almost pulling her down the stairs. She was unsurprised to see Max waiting at the foot of the stairs, dressed and ready to carry out orders.

"Coffee," Norma mumbled on her way past, and he barely hid a smirk.

She had really taken on the role of mother since Beth moved in. He couldn't remember a time when she was awake before eight, yet she had willingly risen almost at dawn to make Beth happy. By the time he returned with her coffee the two were curled up on one of the many couches, Norma doing her best to calm the young woman down.

"Now can I?" Beth asked, bouncing in place.

"Yes, now you may," the older woman said as she accepted the cup.

Beth practically dove into the large pile, though to Norma's surprise she came away, not with a present, but an envelope, which she was presented with.

"Open it," Beth urged, excitement dimming just a bit.

Still half-asleep, it took her a moment after she'd opened the card to register the words written on the inside.

"Really?" she asked once she comprehended the single sentence written on the inside. "You're really going to stay home?"

"Yes. Merry Christmas."

"Oh darling," Norma said, caressing her face and bringing her into a hug. Sniffing delicately to contain the tears she wished to shed, she gently nudged the younger woman toward the tree. "Go open your presents."

Max smiled internally, noting how much the small gesture had affected the older woman. Beth may not understand now, but things like that were what kept the woman sane. The younger brunette did indeed dive into the presents, setting the ones for Norma aside as she went. Once she was satisfied that all the presents were sorted, she began tearing through paper faster than he realized was possible.

* * *

Once it all was said and done, paper swept up and gifts pushed momentarily to the side, Max slid into the shadows to watch the two women as he opened his own few presents from Beth. Curled on the couch, Beth lying partially on top of her, Norma dozed half asleep, not paying him any mind. Beth, battling sleep herself, still managed to fix him with a sleepy blue gaze, watching as he opened the few things she had thought he would like. She managed a smile before lying her head back on her pseudo-mother's chest. She closed her eyes, smiling as she felt Norma run her hand over her head. A shadow fell over them just before she lost consciousness.

"Thank you, Beth," Max whispered, careful not to wake Norma.

As the two slept, the aging actress had a singular thought, looping over and over like the melody of a song. _'Since she's with with me, next year will be the perfect year.'_


	7. Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

Beth was enjoying her life without school. She could do whatever she wanted whenever she wanted and she was with Norma. What she didn't know was that her life was about to drastically change.

* * *

Schwabs was the small drugstore where all the wannabe actors hung out, and Beth normally steered clear of the place. But that day she was making a cigarette run for Norma, whose delivery wouldn't be in for another week. As usual, she was stared and whistled at but ignored it so as to finish her errand. It wasn't until she was leaving that someone grabbed her arm. She froze, fear rendering her immobile.

"Excuse me, Miss," said the person, man, holding her arm. "I couldn't help but notice you, what with the commotion you caused. I'm Philip Hedrick, a talent scout for Paramount Studios. You look like the perfect fit for the role we've been trying to cast. Would you like to come to the studio for a screen test?"

Beth turned to face him then, fear turning to shock.

"I...I don't know," she said, clutching the carton of cigarettes. "I've never thought of becoming an actress."

"Well you're beautiful, that's always good. I'm sure you'll do fine. What's your name?"

"Elizabeth W-...Desmond. Elizabeth Desmond," Beth said, choosing Norma's name instead of her own.

It was at that moment that Beth knew she would never again have any ties to her father.

"Desmond...Desmond..." Philip murmured, gaze far away. "As in Norma Desmond? Are you related to her?"

He was excited, and Beth knew her answer could change her future. She took a deep breath.

"Yes, she's my mother."

"Then that means..."

"That Max Von Mayerling is my father? Yes. My full name is Elizabeth Desmond-Von Mayerling, but I usually drop the Von Mayerling."

"This is astounding. The studio will treat me like a god for finding you. You, the daughter of an astounding director and world changing actress! That settles it, you'll come to the studio at noon tomorrow for a screen test. Just tell them your name and who sent you."

He hurried away, mumbling excitedly about his newest discovery. Beth watched him leave, dazed and uncertain of what she should do. It was then she realized she would have to tell Norma and Max. That thought alone almost made her faint.

* * *

Beth entered the house silently, praying that she would run into her father before Norma. Fate, it seemed, had other ideas. She managed to get through the entryway and halfway through the main room before Norma's voice rang out from the top of the stairs.

"Beth darling? Do you have my cigarettes?"

The girl cringed before turning to answer her.

"Right here, Norma."

The woman made her way downstairs and took the carton, her hands shaking slightly from the beginning of withdrawal. Beth waited until she had lit one and taken a few drags before hesitantly broaching the topic of a studio audition.

"So something interesting happened while I was at Schwabs."

"Did it? Do tell," Norma said, exhaling smoke.

"Well, as I was leaving, this man grabbed my arm. He didn't hurt me," she said hurriedly as the older woman's eyes flashed. "He told me I was pretty and asked if I wanted to go to Paramount for a screen test."

She had deliberately left out the part where she claimed to be her daughter, afraid she'd fly into a rage or fit of depression. She shrank back, afraid of the older woman's reaction.

"That's wonderful!" Norma cried, causing Beth to blink in shock.

"Y-you think?" she asked.

"Of course! It will be wonderful, you as an actress! I can see it now; thousands of adoring fans, crowds fighting to get a glimpse of you! You'll love it! What time is the screen test?"

"Noon tomorrow."

"Oh, this is wonderful! I'll have Max get the car ready!"

She disappeared upstairs, leaving Beth dumbstruck as she watched her retreating figure. Max, having heard the commotion, slipped out of the doorway he had been lurking in.

"So you've finally been noticed?" he asked, startling her.

"Daddy!" she yelped, jumping a bit. "Yes, a man from Paramount wants me to go in for a test. What do you mean finally?" she asked, cocking her head.

"Beth, you're very beautiful. You look exactly as Norma did at your age, and it was when she was sixteen I discovered her. It was bound to happen. The question is, do you want to do this?"

"I don't know," the girl whispered, wrapping her arms around her waist. "I've never considered it before, at least not since that incident when I was little. And Mom's so excited. What do I do?"

"I suggest you think this through carefully, because it's your life. But I will tell you that you resemble your mother a great deal, not only in appearance but to an extent personality and mannerisms. If you do this you will most likely be chosen for the part."

The girl sighed, unsure of what she wanted.

"There's something else, something I didn't tell Mama."

Max knew instinctively it was something that could potentially trigger the woman into a state of insanity.

"What is it?"

"The man asked for my name, and I gave him Mama's at first. I said I was Elizabeth Desmond, and he had heard of her and apparently of your relationship. He assumed I was your daughter and I didn't deny it. I said I was, that my full name was, Elizabeth Desmond-Von Mayerling." She bit her lip, chancing a glance up at him. "You're not mad, are you?"

"No, no I am not mad. I am honored that you would choose to take my name as your own, and I'm sure that some part of Madame would be, too. But you mustn't tell her. She'll never see your billing, just keep it a secret and all should be well."

"So you think I can do this?"

"I have no doubts."

* * *

Beth was extremely nervous as they pulled into the gates at Paramount. She had prepared for all potential questions she would be asked, working with Max late into the night to determine her lineage. They received clearance to go onto the lot, with the directions to go to stage seven. Philip Hedrick met them outside, his excitement obvious.

"Elizabeth, glad you made it! Come on, the directors and head of the studio are waiting."

She turned to her father, biting her lip in nervousness. He gave her a rare smile.

"You'll be fine."

"Thanks, Daddy," she said with a smile.

Her nerves returned full force when she entered the soundstage. All the best directors were there waiting, including Cecil B. DeMille. She stifled a gasp of surprise as she spotted him, hoping he wouldn't recognize her.

"All right, this is really simple. We're trying to cast a bit part in Wilder's newest picture. You'll ready for the part opposite the woman the character shares the scene with. Are you ready?"

"Not really, I'm nervous."

"Well, hide it. Act-after all, that's what you're here for."

He nudged her toward the makeshift set, causing her to stumble. She took a deep breath and held her head high. If there was one thing she'd learned from watching Norma's old films, it was to always be confident. She sat primly on the chair provided for her, desperately trying to exude grace and sophistication. A script was thrust into her hands and she barely had time to glance at it before the lights flared to life.

"All right, ready on set?" A man behind the camera shouted. "Action."

Beth's performance was astounding. The small gathering watched in awe as the young woman stole the spotlight from the experienced actress sitting opposite. No one could take their eyes off her. It was clear she was perfect for the part, or rather perfect for the job. Thundering applause greeted her at the end of the scene and she blushed prettily, having no idea she was any good.

The directors immediately began bickering over who would get to direct her in her next part, and she could see Philip Hedrick being congratulated on a job well done.

"What's your name?" a voice called out, causing the whole soundstage to fall silent, the crowd parting for the owner to come forward. Mr. DeMille himself approached her, and she tensed, unsure of what to say. "Well? You look very familiar to me, almost like a woman I knew long ago."

She knew immediately he was speaking of Norma, and also knew who he suspected her to be.

"My name is Elizabeth Desmond-Von Mayerling," she answered proudly, just as she'd practiced.

"You mean you're Norma's daughter? Strange, I wasn't aware they'd had a child."

"Well they were already divorced. It would have been a scandal if the press had found out," she answered coolly, though inside she was panicking.

"Well young lady, you have every ounce of talent your mother possessed. I'm glad Mr. Hedrick found you."

He smiled then, and Beth felt her nervousness and fear melt away.

"That settles it!" the director called. "You start Monday, be onset at seven a.m."

Max was waiting on Beth outside, and looked at her expectantly as she approached.

"They loved me. I start Monday at seven."

"I knew you would be wonderful. I haven't been wrong yet."

Beth realized as she climbed into the car that her life would never be the same. She had the potential to become as famous as her mother, and she knew if that happened she'd never be left alone. But she welcomed it, glad to finally have control of her life. She felt she'd enjoy acting, as long as her mother never found out the magnitude of her career.


End file.

Sunset Boulevard