Good Guy
By Mojolaoluwa Owolabi
It’s a busy morning, but for Mark, it always is. Mark Harrison is one of the leading actors in Hollywood, from the 80s tv show “Breezy Times” that skyrocketed him to fame, to his several action movies that have kept his fame stable. Mark is an entrepreneur, a real “people person” and a winner of several Golden Globes (all this he would tell you unsolicited within five seconds of meeting him). Today is a busy day for Mark, but not in the way he’s expecting.
“Mark, get up! Now!” Julie Frasier, Mark’s longtime publicist, was scrambling to waken a likely hungover Mr. Harrison, a half-drunk champagne bottle beside him. He was probably celebrating something yesterday. What he was celebrating was the real question. I guess when you’re a famous white man, there’s always something to celebrate, Julie thought to herself.
“Julie, please relax,” Mark groaned. Julie scurried around his hotel room, looking for his phone, having to toss old clothes and marijuana crumbles on the floor. They had only been here three days. Julie looked half-disgusted, but very scared. “Grace, turn on the TV”. Grace Lewis was an intern who’d been working under Julie for a little under a year. She was learning the ropes of being a publicist, and who better to do that for than Mark Harrison?
Soon the room that had had three people in it frantically filled with five, and then ten, and then twelve. Mark continued to groan and turn around as his space became more disrupted. The blaring of Stacy John from News11 on the TV did not help. “If I have a bad day today, you’re all to blame,” Mark grumbled, seemingly more awake.
People in the room consisted of managers, other publicists under Julie, agents, and assistants. Mark was shocked at the sight. “Julie, what the hell is going on?” he asked, genuinely confused and frustrated. Stacy was still rambling on about local LA news, until the breaking segment appeared.
Julie, exasperated, said, “Mark, look.”
The breaking news jingle played. Stacy began. “Breaking news today. Actor Mark Harrison is trending on social media and is currently under fire for the alleged abuse and mistreatment of several of his past employees and female employees that worked under him.” A picture of Mark appeared on the screen from 2018 when he was getting coffee.
He hated that picture. “I hate that picture.”
Julie looked at him, bewildered.
“Three women who shall not be named at the moment are prepared to testify against Mr. Harrison in court.”
“Well Stacy, it’s pretty-”
Julie shut the TV off. The room was silent. The six women who were on Mark’s team put notable distance between themselves and Mark. Mark noticed. “Julie, isn’t your job to handle this?” He laugh dryly.
Julie, looking nauseated, said, “Mark, it’s really bad. You don’t know how many calls I’ve gotten in the past hour-” Julie’s phone vibrated again. She looked down in fear. “Universal is threatening to cancel the deal and-”
“No.” Mark was awake now. He walked towards the couch where most everyone stood. “No, Universal cannot close their deal. Julie, we’ve been negotiating this for two years now. They’re not going to do this to me.”
Julie, for the first time, looked lost. Mark laughed and looked around. “I mean, does no one see how much bullshit this is? Of course, at the new peak of my career, this happens? It’s just…”
Mark was laughing oddly and pacing a bit. Everyone felt awkward. Mark grabbed the champagne bottle from the night before and smashed it to the ground, startling everyone. Julie put her head in her hands. Grace observed the room, looking flat.
“Can we get room service up here, or a janitor? Please,” said someone in the background. Mark looked up, and his face switched from angry to charming. “I’m sorry everyone. Sorry.”
One of Mark’s managers, Brandon Cowell, ordered most people to leave. They were eager to. In the room then were just Julie, Mark, Grace, and Brandon.
Mark looked at Brandon. “How did this happen?”
Brandon, who looked as unshaken as ever, said, “Apparently someone sent a package of emails, messages, and documents to News11. All under the names ‘Jane Doe’.
They’ve tried to trace it but they can't. The women came out all at the same time. It was all planned.” Brandon gathered the glass from the champagne bottle with his foot into one pile. “Julie has talked to Malcolm and his official stance is ‘say nothing’. He’ll be here later today to make a real plan”.
Mark looked slightly relieved but still distraught. “Julie, call in those who need to be in here now.”
Julie nodded and left for the door.
“Grace?” Mark said. Grace looked up. He smiled. “Could you get me a coffee?”.
The hotel room was full once again, this time with coffees, bagels, lawyers, publicists, and more. The room was one big echo chamber, planning Mark’s next move or salvaging his last ones. This wasn’t Mark’s first time being under fire. Back in 2015, it was revealed that he undertipped at a restaurant ($20 on a $300 meal!). He claimed drunkenness and went back to gift all the employees $1000. Another time, he was accused of being rude to a fan, and another time, berating paparazzi. These are all instances that Mark had gotten out of basically scot-free. But clearly, this was different.
Stacy John’s voice filled the room once again, much to Mark’s dismay and everyone’s fear. “Back again with news on the Mark Harrison controversy. In the leaked documents detailing Mr. Harrison’s abuse, it is said he severely overworked employees and fired those who contested, and made female employees feel uncomfortable. It is also said by Jane Doe #1 that Mr. Harrison would try to make advances on her consistently, even up to the point of unfortunate assault. Mr. Harrison’s team has refused comment at the moment.”
Mark’s face turned in anger. “Julie, what the hell?! You said the documents were sent to News11! How the hell did it get leaked?!” Mark was yelling and clearly upset.
“Mark, Brandon told you that,” Julie tried to reassure him. “And it’s fine! We’re still working on this-”
“No, screw this, Julie. We should be out there clearing my name, not hiding from the trolls-”
A small chatter was heard from outside. It sounded like chanting. It was. Mark looked out the window. “Oh hell.”
A group of protesters, mostly women, had somehow found out the location of Mark’s hotel. Signs read “WE DESERVE BETTER”, “YOU CAN’T HIDE FOREVER” (a reference to one of Mark’s movies, Hidden), and “WOMEN’S STORIES MATTER”.
Mark rolled his eyes, visibly annoyed. “So much for security, huh Brandon?”
Brandon stood, unchanged. “Julie, call News11. We’re doing the press conference.”
Julie, dumbfounded, said, “Brandon, I really don’t think that’s the right idea. I mean, my team is working on-”
“Julie. Just do it.”
Julie nodded and fished for her phone. Mark, clapping and smiling, said, “Finally. Some work getting done around here”.
Outside in sunny LA, News11 took up part of the street as if filming a movie. Mark’s team was visible to the public, as vulnerable as they’d been all day, and was subjected to jeers and remarks from protesters. They walked past them and to the street where Stacy John and a field of journalists stood. Mark was nowhere to be seen. A protester grabbed Grace by the sleeve. “You don’t have to work for him, or be complacent, you know. You can walk away.” Grace smiled.
Soon, Mark appeared, but from the other side of the street. Protesters grew even louder. “Coward!” one shouted.
Mark smiled and waved towards them, but not before being whisked away by Julie. Grace’s stomach turned.
Mark made his way through the sea of journalists to the mini stage where Stacy John was sitting. Cameras flashed as the two greeted each other. They shook hands and sat down.
Stacy started. “Hello everyone, and thank you for coming out.” Grace felt uneasy. “I’m Stacy John, News11 and I’ll be facilitating this press conference today.” She smiled. “Let’s begin.”
Journalists clamored, all hoping to ask the first question, so much so that not a single question could be heard. Stacy pointed to a woman in a blue shirt. “Hi, yes Stacy, I’m Margot Red, CNN. Mr. Harrison, people are just wondering how you could have employees work 11-hour days without proper relief?”
Many journalists began to speak again, and Mark waved them off. Julie clutched her purse. “Hi, Margot.” He smiled. Mark could be very charming when the time warranted it. That’s what makes him so scary, thought Grace. “Beautiful name, by the way. The employee claims that are coming up are simply not true. No employee has worked overtime without consent and I’ve always advocated for mental health care in my workplace.”
Julie thought that was a good answer. She thought.
“Yes, but Mr. Harrison we were provided with time stamps of employee clock-ins and records, and we have several testimonials from anon employees as well. The consensus was that employees were overworked and those who spoke against it were terminated immediately. Can you speak on that?”
Mark smiled again. “Well Margot, it may be true that some employees worked overtime.” Julie gulped. “But only in dire situations. Termination of employment has nothing to do with certain values. My offices don’t operate that way”.
“So, you consider ‘Private Hawaiian Properties’ a dire situation?”
Mark laughed awkwardly. “Next question.”
Questions were thrown about, like spears that seemed to hit Mark in the right organs. He was getting worn down, Julie could tell, but his answers were fine enough. Until the last question.
“Hi Mr. Harrison, Cole Mitchell, MSNBC. I wanted to ask you about the three women that came forward.”
Mark sighed. “Ask away.” He smiled dryly.
“It’s said in transcripts from text messages that you at one point asked all these women for drinks or some sort of outing consistently. Is this true?”
Mark shuffled in his seat. “Not that it’s anyone’s business, but I have asked a couple of women out in my lifetime, as most men have.” Mark laughed. There were some laughs from the crowd as well.
“Sure, Mr. Harrison. But it’s said that after these women denied you, things became ‘harder’ for them at work. Can you confirm this?”
Julie almost teleported to Mark’s side, but Mark waved her off. “I can confirm that I haven’t aggressively pursued any of the women who were past employees.”
Mitchell stood straight. “Mr. Harrison, it is true that you go by the fake name ‘Red Hobert’ at certain restaurants and places, even at the hotel that you’re registered under right now?”
Mark, looking slightly frustrated, replied, “Yes.”
“Well, I have here in my records that a Red Hobert took three women at separate times to a bar called Eve’s-”
“Okay this is-”
“-and afterwards took them to his home. Based on text message records, Mr. Hobert allegedly came onto these women, all of whom rejected him. All women woke up not remembering the events of the night before. Mr. Harrison, can you confirm this?”.
“This is all conspiracy-”
“Mr. Harrison, can you confirm this?”
“You know what-” Mark yelled. The journalists were quiet. The protesters were quiet. All you could hear was the faint honking of a car in the distance. Stacy cleared her throat. Julie had her hand over her mouth, not remembering how it got there. She excused herself. Grace looked angry.
“Look, just...” Mark continued. He sighed.
Then finally, “I’m not saying anything without my lawyer."
It was night now at the hotel. Julie had resigned, and Brandon was somewhere negotiating. Mark was at the bar, which was empty. He was on his sixth drink. Soon, a person appeared next to him. It was Grace.
“Grace!” Mark smiled. He shook her on the shoulder. She laughed awkwardly. “My favorite intern.” He grinned. “Can I get you a drink?”
Grace shook her head. “I’m okay.”
Mark sighed. “Yeah well...” He laughed to himself. “Julie quit, and you should just see the stories they’re running about me. Comparing me to Cosby. I’m no Cosby!” He laughed, almost like it was a matter of fact. “You know, Universal took the deal. Brandon has been on the phone for hourssss,” he slurred, and shook his drink around. Finally, he looked at Grace. “This is crazy, isn’t it? I mean...” He sighed deeply. “I’m a good guy. You believe that? Right Grace?”
With his hand on her shoulder, Grace said, “I’m sure.”
He smiled. “There’s my favorite intern.”
Grace excused herself, tired. She walked away but not before hearing Mark say, “I wish more women were like you.” She smiled.
Grace was in her room now. She took off her jacket, the one Mark had touched, and washed her hands. Lying in her bed, she opened her phone. “Aaaand send,” she said to herself. The email subject on her screen read “My Resignation”.
Grace logged out of that email and into another, named JaneDoes@gmail.com. She smiled to herself. In her drafts that were scheduled to be released tomorrow morning, she added another recipient – mrmarkharrison@gmail.com. She titled the email subject “Surprise :)". Grace turned off her phone and set it beside her. She thought to herself, I hope more women can become like me too.