Max Von Mayerling discovered you. You were his muse...His leading lady. The beautiful ingenue starring in all his films from romance to noir to fantasy to action...

He was your best friend, a true artist and the man who made you big...You two spent hours together filming,writing and just enjoying eachother's company. The two of you gave the world new ways to dream. And he adored you.

Soon you're friendship grew...and as you bought a house on Sunset Blvd and got married...life for a few years was bliss...but then you got requests to work with other directors...Other studios...so you went. But they didn't treat you like Max did...You weren't everyone's muse. And now...turning thirty you weren't an ingenue anymore...

By forty nobody wanted to cast you anymore period. And it was driving you insane. Max gave up directing a long time ago and sort of lost his role as husband too somewhere in the mirk. The divorce happened around age thirty five all kisses and sweet whispers and wedding rings retired...but Max stayed. He agreed to his heartbreak that you two weren't married anymore...but this was still his home...and you were still his muse. Besides you needed a security guard when you went out and someone to help with things around the house. So he took to being your guard and replaced his petnames for you with the formal "Madame." Much to his sorrow.

And you chased your lost youth in young gigolo directors and writers...They made you feel young and beautiful until they inevitably fled...There were other husbands. And many a fling. And it broke Max behind closed doors to watch you with new lovers around the home...but he stayed. His devotion for you was endless...besides they never stayed long...and you were growing increasingly fragile mentally and emotionally.

The last straw was a handsome penniless writer Joeseph Gillis. He was clearly only using you for the money half committed and offput by you...and as soon as you inquired about him moving in and fully professed your love on New Years Eve...he fled. Hopped in his car and sped off overwhelmed by a love confessions from a woman twice his age.

Now Max sits with you on the grand stair case to your empty ballroom as you sob. He doesn't touch you, doesn't coo over you...those days are long over...He doesn't even speak. But he sits there with you. His large prescene a comfort all alone.

Your first director...your husband...your security. Still here...always here.

The two of you bound together eternally.