James Franco Pens Short Story About Late-Night Sexless Hours With Lindsay Lohan
In response to Lindsay Lohan's persistent statement that she had sex with him, James Franco gives a detailed account of what really happened between him and the troubled former child star. He writes a short story called "Bungalow 89" after a cottage area at the Chateau Marmont in Los Angeles.
"There was a Hollywood girl staying at Chateau Marmont," he said. "She had gotten a key to my room from the manager. I heard her put the key into my front door and turn it, but I had slid the dead bolt... She said, 'James, open the door...Open the door, you bookworm punk blogger f****t.' "
"She knocked on the door. She was in her pajamas. She had bare feet," he wrote. According to him, she kept calling him until he eventually answered her. "You're not going to let me sleep, are you?" he asked. At one point, she pleaded, "I just want to sleep on your couch. I'm lonely."
"We're not going to have sex, If you want to come in, I'll read you a story," James finally caved in. So the "Rise of the Planet of the Apes" actor read her a J.D. Salinger book. "Let's call this girl Lindsay," he said of his late-night guest. "She was a Hollywood girl, but a damaged one."
"I read her two of the Nine Stories, 'A Perfect Day for Bananafish' and 'For Esme - with Love and Squalor.' 'Bananafish' was great because it has a nagging mother on the other end of the phone line, nothing like Lindsay's real mother, but still, the mother-daughter thing was good for her to hear."
"Then I read 'For Esme,' which is basically the same story as 'A Perfect Day for Dickfish.' A man goes to war. He is traumatized. Then he is saved by the innocence of a young girl. The structure of this story is very nice. Yes, stories, stories, stories, stories. S-t-o-r-i-e-s."
"Now we were lying in bed. I wasn't going to f**k her. She had her head on my shoulder. She started to talk. I let her." According to James, LiLo was rambling about a particular night when she went clubbing after the premiere of her then-new movie "A Prairie Home Companion" in New York.
"I took James Franco and Meryl's two young daughters to the club du jour, Bungalow 8, in the Meatpacking District. It was my place. All my friends were there: school friends, my mother looking her slutty best, bodyguards, and Greeks. We had our own table in the corner, our own bottle. I took two Oxycontins and things got bad."
"I remember trying to speak up, to talk to that cute boy in a red gingham shirt, James. I was slurring. My words rolled around and got sticky and didn't come out," she said. "My friend from school kept talking to him, trying to be cute, but she was only there because of me. I told Barry, my bodyguard, to take her away from our table. And he banished her."
She took him to bathroom, but things didn't go as she planned. "He didn't f**k me, that s**t. And what was he doing there anyway? On my night. My night with Meryl, my night when everything was right, when I got everything I wanted. Almost," she ranted. "I f**ked one of the Greeks instead: a big-schnozzed, big-d**ked, drunk mother**ker. We did it in the bath. That was the best night of my life."
Lindsay eventually fell asleep. "I ran my fingers through her hair and thought about this girl sleeping on my chest, our fictional Hollywood girl, Lindsay," James said. "What will she do? I hope she gets better. You see, she is famous. She was famous because she was a talented child actress, and now she’s famous because she gets into trouble. She is damaged."
"For a while, after her high hellion days, she couldn't get work because she couldn't get insured. They thought she would run off the sets to party. Her career suffered, and she started getting arrested (stealing, DUIs, car accidents, other things). But the arrests, even as they added up, were never going to be an emotional bottom for her, because she got just as much attention for them as she used to get for her film performances."
"She would get money offers for her jailhouse memoirs, crazy offers. So how would she ever stop the craziness when the response to her work and the response to her life had converged into one? Two kinds of performance, in film and in life, had melted into one."
James said, "Every night Lindsay looked for me, and I hid." When he once cancelled a plan to make a book together with her and photographer Terry Richardson, she was not happy. "She leaked a false story to the press that Terry was shooting a sex book with her and me," he claimed.
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