Hey hun,
Did you know that Nicolas Cage once spent over $200K on a stolen dinosaur skull, owned the haunted LaLaurie mansion in New Orleans, and bought an octopus as a pet? I can’t even imagine that amount of money, but it might explain why he’s now chatting up my friend, Eve.
Ok, I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me fill you in on the details:
Last time I wrote, Eve had just told me about having a secret online relationship with someone claiming to be Nicolas Cage. I honestly didn’t remember who that was until I Googled and saw that he was in Moonstruck – oh my god, how a-mah-zing did Cher look in that film?!
At first, I didn’t know what to do. Should I tell Trevor, or Julian? But then I decided that I owed it to Eve to hear her out. And who knows, maybe she really has a direct line to Hollywood’s most financially irresponsible celebrity!
I stopped over Eve’s when she had the house to herself, and oh boy, if I knew nothing about Nicolas Cage’s career, she knows everything. She’s seen every one of his movies several times over, including some, frankly, really weird-looking ones.
A few months back, Eve joined a new Facebook Nicolas Cage fan page, but it turns out the ol’ stud himself was lurking in the shadows. She got a message from a profile claiming to be Nicolas Cage, seemingly enamored by her photos and devotion to his career.
Honestly, the more she talked, the more it all just seemed wrong. Why would Nicolas Cage join a fan page filled with bad grammar and picture slideshows set to god awful music? Why would he chat up a senior citizen living in Maine? Wasn’t he too busy to be scrolling Facebook? But it was no good – Eve’s already been won over.
The profile in question is pretty empty, with just a few blurry red carpet photos. According to Eve, Nicolas Cage can’t use his real account without his management knowing, and they control his every move. Plus, he wants divorce his wife but he has to be careful to avoid suspicion for now, whatever the heck that means.
But soon he wants to get out from under them so he can finally visit Eve. What can I say? This woman believes that he’s actually going to show up. What she would tell Julian if such a thing came true, I have no fucking clue.
There must be a part of her that knows this can’t be real. I convinced her, after some nudging, to show me some of their chats. And, sweet Mary and the ass she rode in on, was it boring! I’ve seen hotter stuff in a how-to manual from IKEA. It was all just basic, shallow, with no personality behind the words, like:
“Hello beautiful”
“How are you?”
“Thank you for supporting my career”
“I hope you have a good day”
Then, I scrolled further and it hit me like a punch why Eve is so willing to believe this is real. She had sent him money. At first “Nicolas Cage” had asked for piddling amounts, $20 in gift cards because he lost his wallet, or $50 because his new credit card was in the mail. From there the amounts only grew. His requests got wilder and more ridiculous. I asked Eve why on earth she was sending money to a celebrity with hoards of money and she got fed up with me.
“Well, Jules can spend money on his dead animals! Why can’t I spend some on a friend?”
“Why, Eve?” I asked, “Why spend it on this stranger?”
“I just like how nice he is to me. I haven’t gotten compliments like that from Jules in so long! I just, I don’t know, blend in with the wallpaper.”
I tactfully decided this was not the moment to tell her that from my limited research, Nicolas Cage seemed to prefer women young enough to be his daughter, so likely wasn’t trawling the AARP crowd for dates.
She said, “Sometimes I think that if I died and had myself taxidermied that Jules wouldn’t even notice.”
I held her hand and patted her back to resist the urge to say that a taxidermied old lady might actually be something Nicolas Cage would buy. Later, as I walked back to my apartment, I thought about how conflicted I would feel if I were in Eve’s shoes. I would have to be in a pretty low place to talk to such a suspicious profile, and especially send them money. There had to be some way to dispel the illusion this mystery person had created.
I stopped at the liquor store to get some liquid inspiration, put on a record, popped open a can of brown bread, and settled onto the couch. Then, I took out my phone, found the Facebook group and the profile, and sent it a message.
“Is this Nicolas Cage?” I wrote. I didn’t expect to hear back soon if at all, but almost immediately I got a response:
“Yes, this is Nicolas Cage.”
And so the game begins. What do you think I should say back?
Love,
Grams