Down the Rabbit Hole - Holly Madison

“See this?” she bragged, holding up her checkbook for me to see the balance, which hovered just
above $25,000.
“It’s the money I earned doing my Playmate pictorial!” she exclaimed proudly. “I haven’t
touched a penny! You know, the other girls aren’t even thinking. They have Hef leasing them cars they
could never afford and they spend money like there’s no tomorrow.”
She looked pleased with herself.
“Everyone made fun of me for getting this car,” she said, patting the steering wheel of her brandnew
Toyota RAV4. “But I want something I can afford after I move out. I don’t need a Porsche.”
Smart, I thought. In fact, it was the first sensible thing I had heard out of any of the girlfriends’
mouths so far.
As we roamed through Target, she filled her shopping cart with everything from a nose hair
trimmer to dog toys. “I always spend so much at Target,” she sighed. “You always walk out of here
with more than you need.”
I smiled and nodded my head in agreement. Before another pause could pass, Lisa started
babbling again.
“You know, I don’t know if I could ever go back home,” Lisa continued. “One of my guy friends
from home, the other day he got real rude with me on the phone and said the only reason I got
centerfold was because I fucked Hef.”
I wasn’t 100 percent sure if she was even talking to me anymore—or just thinking out loud.
She shrugged her shoulders and tried to offer a halfhearted smirk, but I could tell the comment
bothered her deeply. I could certainly relate. Like me, I think she got into this situation without quite
realizing what a public decision it was.
“It’s not true. You’re gorgeous,” I offered, trying to cheer her up. “You could have become a
centerfold anyway.” And it was true. She was curvy, cute, and baby-faced, resembling a petite
version of Anna Nicole Smith.
“Thanks,” she sighed, offering a weak smile. “But I can’t go back home. I mean, what am I
supposed to do? I’m not above working a real job, but, like, if I’m working at a counter somewhere
everyone I know is gonna come up and be like ‘ohhhhh, Lisa, look where you are now after posing
naked.’ It’s embarrassing.”
I was just as anxious as Lisa was about the life that waited for me outside the mansion gates. So
many things seemed to be grounds for dismissal that I was petrified to step out of line. While
becoming an actress was still a passion of mine, it was always best to keep any auditions quiet. After
Brande Roderick had left Hef for Baywatch Hawaii, he kept a much closer eye on any acting work the
girlfriends tried to pursue. I secretly hoped to land a role big enough that it would allow me to leave
the mansion after a few months, but those kinds of dream jobs are few and far between. Eventually I
would receive offers for smaller parts in music videos and low-budget films—but the hours often
went past our curfew and the jobs rarely paid much, so they hardly seemed worth it. If anything, they
would only land me in hot water with my boyfriend who, as the weeks passed into months, appeared
more and more controlling. It seemed my acting dreams were stalled for the time being. I felt caught
between a rock and a hard place. I thought having a rent-free roof over my head would make chasing