A playwright and actress named Domenica Feraud has written a Medium essay called “The Movie Star and Me.” The essay is a long blind item about one of her first big jobs, where she was basically chief intern on a Broadway musical revival. The musical had a “movie star” in the lead, and the movie star began pursuing Domenica at work. Because of the nature of fame and because of the nature of this one f–king dude, basically everyone on the production would do anything to keep the movie star happy and working and focused, even if it meant allowing him to be quite inappropriate with a 23-year-old intern. The movie star was 35 years old at the time and throughout the story, he behaves like a moody teenager, unaware of boundaries, playing juvenile games, obsessing over his new crush or ignoring her completely. Nothing illegal or criminal happens between them. She wrote the piece to examine the relationship, how he was enabled and how the “adults” basically offered her up to him to make his life easier, to placate him and get him in a good mood. You can read the full piece here. Near the end, she made some good points:

I waited for his text, but it never came. After a month I caved, typing: I didn’t get a chance to say — the performance I saw was really something. He never responded. Weeks later I was having tea with an acquaintance when she brought up the movie star without knowing our history. Her friend was his publicist and was constantly putting out fires on his behalf. Apparently, he falls in love with these young interns and PAs on sight, pursues them obsessively, and then has some sort of freak out a month in and disappears. I felt like I was falling into an abyss, hearing about my life from someone else’s mouth. My first thought wasn’t, He’s a predator who targets women who work for him. It was, How could you be so stupid? I became sick overnight. My appetite shut down: most days I couldn’t eat until 9pm. I went to closing with my parents: when I congratulated my mentor she glanced at me coolly, seemingly forgetting I had once been a part of this. She made it clear I was not invited to the after party and as I left, I was flooded with shame.

Then Me Too happened. I read about what Dustin Hoffman said to interns and was horrified before remembering the movie star telling me he always reciprocates oral sex on day one. I reread my screenplay, verbatim quotes from the people involved stunning me: I was a commodity offered up by my mentor to make the process easier. I still haven’t confronted her because I’m terrified she’ll scoff, We both know you wanted it. And she’s right: a part of me did. But that part was never consenting. Consent became impossible the moment he commented on my appearance at work. I can never know what my true feelings were because he crossed boundaries that didn’t exist for him, boundaries I didn’t know I had to protect. I’m worried nobody will care when I share this, that people will think I’m reading too much into things. It’s hard living in the grey area that isn’t actually grey, to be the one telling yourself what happened was unacceptable when everyone acted like you’d won the lottery the moment he hit on you.

I’ve debated whether I put this out into the world because I don’t want to hurt anyone, including myself. But I don’t think I’m the only woman this actor has done this dance with. It was too well choreographed. And as much as my brain likes to tell me otherwise, I’m not an idiot for falling for it: I’m human. I was young, naïve, insecure and all those things made me the perfect target. I believed I was living a fairy tale, and society upheld that narrative. But it was a nightmare, one I’m still scarred from. And this man was enabled in his behavior at every step, which makes it hard for me to believe he’s an anomaly. And people like my mentor probably tell themselves these young women are lucky, but I’m here to vehemently disagree. Because the aftermath that never ends? It isn’t worth the fairytale.

[From Medium]

Yeah, I like how she deals head-on with what people will throw at her: she wanted to be with him, she should have known it was all a game, she should have never developed feelings for him, etc. But again: “I can never know what my true feelings were because he crossed boundaries that didn’t exist for him, boundaries I didn’t know I had to protect.” She was 23 years old, a virgin who had never been in any kind of sexual or romantic relationship. She had no understanding of what was happening TO her, she didn’t have the experience to understand. And that’s why he did it, that’s why he targeted her, because she was young, inexperienced, naive.

And yes, I think we know all too well who this is. He really has a type: young women aged 19-24, inexperienced, sheltered. When Domenica’s friend mentioned his publicist putting out fires, I almost screamed. Wow.