Clare looked at me evenly.
“Well, it’s not really fair of you to leave it up in the air. All this time, she probably thought she had a chance with you.”
“That’s bullshit! I never gave her a single ounce of encouragement.”
“Are you really that dim?” Clare snorted. “That’s not enough – you have to be really clear. Just say something like, ‘I’m flattered, but we’re going to be keeping it professional’.”
“Oh, that’s good. Okay, I’ll remember that one. Thanks, Clare.”
She was right – I was an idiot. God, it would be nice to just meet an ordinary girl for a change, you know? Have a few dates, get to know her slowly. Not just some random hook up where you got a strange tongue rammed down your throat. Well, okay, sometimes that was good, too, but that had usually only happened when I was drunk, and it was almost always a mistake. Um, make that always a mistake. Except that time with the Swedish air stewardess – she was hot. And maybe one other time.
Clare was watching me curiously.
“Are we going, or what? You have a script to learn.”
“Yes, boss.”
We’d dissected the script so many times I could see Clare’s eyes crossing at the thought of yet another read through. She didn’t complain; she didn’t have to – I could see it written all over her face.
It had been hard work, but it was getting easier. I didn’t want to come over as near illiterate when I started rehearsals with Lilia and Jo-Anne, fumbling and fluffing my way through the lines. I just hoped that there weren’t too many rewrites on set, or I was screwed.
I’d made a load of notes on the script, too – ideas about how I’d play the character – as well as thinking about some kind of back story for him, for Nuriel. Believe me, that wasn’t easy. I mean, he was an angel – literally, wings, harp, Birkenstocks, the whole gig. Okay, well, not the Birkenstocks and I hadn’t seen a harp mentioned, although the guy was supposed to play the guitar. I could just about fake that. I’d played guitar before I took up the sax. I was a bit rusty, but good enough to fake it in the movie. I hoped. I’d bought a cheap guitar from a guy I found on Craigslist, then spent a few days practicing. I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed it.
“Hey, play me that Sam Callahan song,” said Clare, the first evening I’d brought the guitar home.
I’d met Sam when we were both gigging at the Venue in South East London one night. He was a cool guy – wrote some great lyrics.
“Yeah, okay. Which one?”
“The one about being crazy in love. That’s my favorite.”
I ran my fingers along the neck of the guitar, pulling the tune out of my memory, digging it from the dark matter that made up my brain cells, and started to play.
Sometimes alone, I felt so lost.
You were all that I wanted.
And it felt like everyone thought it was wrong being together.
But we can do most anything.
Whatever we want to.
Just lean on me and I’ll rely on you.
I know, know it sounds insane,
But girl, girl, you do something to me.
You gotta know I’m crazy for you,
And if you’re crazy for me,
We can be crazy together,
Baby, there’ll be no in-between.
I tell you there’s no holding back,
and I’ll only say words that I mean.
I wanna be crazy forever,
So say you wanna be crazy with me?
Clare’s eyes had this sort of drowsy look about them when I finished. I think that meant she liked it, even though I was pretty rusty.
“I love that song,” she sighed. “It’s so sweet. And Sam’s pretty hot, too.”
“Yeah, whatever,” I mumbled.
But it didn’t matter what I really sounded like when I played in those scenes for the movie – they’d add the soundtrack later anyway. Whatever I could do to prepare seemed like a good idea.
At least I wasn’t so nervous about taking my shirt off on camera now. Jo-Anne had said that there’d be a personal trainer available to help me from blobbing out on the shoot. Not Hilda, thank God, although I had to admit she’d really whipped me into shape. Yeah, it was the whips that worried me. Actually, no, that wasn’t true. Just being alone with Hilda scared the shit out of me.
Thank God for Clare.
The next morning I felt strangely calm as we packed our bags ready to go on location. I could see Clare watching me out of the corner of my eye, waiting for me to freak out. But I didn’t. Maybe because it felt like there wasn’t anything more I could do. I was as prepared as I could be. I knew my lines, I was in shape, and my head was in a good place. For the first time I felt like I could do this.
Yeah, that lasted until the studio car arrived.
I wished it was Earl who was driving us, but he preferred to stick to jobs in LA. He said he didn’t like being away from his family. It made me feel guilty for not phoning mum more often. I made a mental note to do that as soon as I could.
The new driver didn’t speak much. I was even considering the possibility he was mute, but then I heard him talking on his cell phone, so I guess he just didn’t want to talk to me. Or Clare. She was enjoying herself, looking out of the window and chatting away.
“We definitely have to do this drive when you finish filming. It would be unreal: you, me, a car, and miles of California highway to cruise. Imagine the mayhem!”
That didn’t sound half bad, and I hoped we could make it happen. Clare had missed out on the summer beer fest circuit around Europe with Nazzer and Paul – I hoped that a trip down the Californian coast would make it up to her. And it did look damn beautiful. I was surprised how wild the landscape was, just a few miles out of LA.
We arrived at Petaluma late in the afternoon and I was looking forward to having a cold beer at the hotel when we got there. It was hard to remember that I was still underage here, and I really hoped that the staff at the hotel would turn a blind eye.
I eyed the driver, wondering if he was the kind of guy I could ask to buy beer for me – I mean, if I gave him the money. He wasn’t the friendliest ever, but it was worth a try.
We’d turned into a long, private drive that led to the hotel when Clare nudged my elbow.
“Hey, look at that,” she said.
There must have been more than fifty young girls standing in the boiling sun. They were all carrying homemade posters with ‘Nuriel ♥ Esther’ printed on them in crayon and decorated with glitter, and I could see several of the older ones were carrying copies of the book Dazzled.
As our car approached, they started shouting and waving.
The driver had a determined look on his face and started to speed up.
“Hey, careful!” gasped Clare, and her eyes were pleading.
Yeah, she totally knew what that would do to me. Besides, I agreed with her. I couldn’t just ignore those kids, and I wondered how long they’d been standing there – it must have been 95F outside.
“Just stop for a minute,” I said.
“Sir, my instructions are to…”
“Just for a minute.”
“It’s not safe, sir…”
“Oh, for goodness sake!” snapped Clare. “They’re only kids!”
With a sour expression, he pulled the car to the side of the road. We were surrounded in seconds, and I wondered briefly if it had been a good idea.
The driver eased himself out of the car and worked his way around to my side, but I was already opening the door.
The shrieking nearly punctured an eardrum, and I was pretty sure every dog within a ten mile radius must have pricked up its ears.
I felt like a real fraud when they all started screaming ‘Nuriel’ because hell, I hadn’t even shot so much as one frame of film yet.
But someone pushed a pen into my hand and I started signing my name. I nearly bust a gut laughing when I saw that Clare was being asked to autograph stuff, too.
> “No, no!” she whimpered, sounding alarmed. “I’m not an actress, honest!”
But she didn’t get away with it, so she was standing next to me signing away. It was pretty damn funny.
Then we got our photos taken with all of the kids and some of their mums, and I was fairly certain it was one of the mothers who copped a feel while I wasn’t looking – I was damn sure there was a hand on my ass that wasn’t mine. Then Clare took over camera duties, and I smiled until my face was aching.
All the kids were really sweet and one little girl gave me a teddy bear wearing a t-shirt that said ‘Somebody in Sonoma Loves You!’.
“Wow! Thank you!” I said. “I haven’t had a teddy bear in ages – and this is a really brilliant one.”
I smiled at her, and she burst into tears.
Shit!
“Hey, don’t cry!”
“It’s okay,” said a woman, who I assumed was her mum. “She’s just excited to meet you. We’ve been waiting here since after lunch. Yours is the first car that’s stopped. Thank you so much. You’ve really made her day.”
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Clare asked, gently.
“Reese,” came the answer, as the girl wiped her sleeve across her nose.
“Well, Reese, would you like to get a hug from Nuriel?”
She nodded slowly, so I knelt down beside her and put my arm loosely around her shoulders. She giggled and got all shy, which was so damn cute. Then Clare took a ton of pictures with her mum’s camera.
It felt good, doing something so simple that made a little girl smile.
Fuck, I was turning into a real sap! Not that I cared. Well, it was definitely worth it. My bear was cool.
Even Clare got some swag, because I saw her stuffing a chocolate brownie in her mouth that she’d been given by another mum. I tried to trade with her when we were back in the car, but I was too slow.
“Wow, that was amazing!” she said, as we drove away. “They were so nice! And they’d been standing there for four hours! Did you hear what that girl said? She only looked like she was about eight.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty humbling, but I know it’s to do with the book – not me.”
Clare rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t bet on it.” Then she grabbed my bear. “Come to mummy!”
Clare was laughing at me. Well, that was nothing new, but I had to admit her impersonation was pretty damn spot on.
“Can someone wipe the sweat off Miles’ brow, please! Can someone get Miles a coffee? Can someone wipe your ass, Miles?”
We’d been on location for two days, and I had to admit, the whole ‘being waited on hand and foot’ was pretty easy to get used to. But Clare was making me pay for it.
“Don’t worry,” she laughed, “I’ll keep it ‘real’ for you. I won’t let you get big-headed.”
“Thanks, I think.”
But she was right, about the hierarchy on the set, I mean. I hadn’t really expected that – or thought about it much. On the few TV jobs I’d had, I’d been little more than a walk-on, so had just kind of faded into the background. But now I was one of ‘the principals’ (that included me, Lilia, and the actors playing her parents), and the background artists – the extras – weren’t supposed to talk to us unless we approached them. The first morning I lined up at the lunch truck like the rest of the crew, and one of the Production Assistants had to bring me back to my trailer. It was embarrassing, but apparently I was cramping everyone else’s style by trying to hang out with them. I felt like such a douche bag.
I could see how it might turn your head, all the attention, I mean. But also, I wasn’t allowed to do anything that wasn’t on my call sheet. And no one could even move a chair if they weren’t in the right union – I nearly caused a strike when I tried to help move a light.
For the six weeks of the shoot, I wouldn’t have to lift a finger. No laundry, no washing up, living in a cocoon.
Easy.
“You missed the fucking mark again, Miles! Jesus Christ, what is this? Amateur half hour? Goddamnit! Everyone take five before we do fuckin’ Take 947!”
Jerk.
I tried not to show how humiliated I was by the comment, but when Merv the cameraman couldn’t meet my eye, I felt even worse.
I risked glancing toward Clare – I could see the rage burning in her eyes and I felt a little better. She cared. I knew she cared.
The first few days of filming had been amazing – I felt like I was flying.
Lilia had been sweet and really helpful. She’d even made an effort to get to know Clare, although that hadn’t gone quite so well. I was pissed at Clare for not even trying but I knew she wouldn’t change. God, she was stubborn.
Jo-Anne had made me feel relaxed, like I could really do this, and watching the rushes at the end of the day had been brilliant. I mean, yeah, it was excruciating watching myself on screen, but I could see that Lilia and I really had something – chemistry or whatever.
But the shit hit the fan at the end of the first week. Jo-Anne got rear ended on the freeway and was in hospital with whiplash, internal bruising, and concussion. Apparently, she’d screamed blue murder when she was told she had to stay in hospital, but had been silenced when the studio said that the whole film’s insurance would be invalidated if she came back to the set before the docs signed her off.
They’d made the decision to hire another director rather than close down the shoot until Jo-Anne was well.
I wasn’t too sure about their choice, because Ron Paulini was known more for his wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am shoot ‘em ups than sensitive teenage angst shit. I mean, the guy could nail a car chase and an explosion, but emotions – not so much. Maybe he was all they could find at short notice.
And he really hated me.
I wasn’t entirely sure why: because I was British, maybe, and pretty obviously inexperienced, although Jo-Anne had never made an issue of it.
The first day with him had been shit. And then it got worse. Whatever I did, he yelled at me. Not in private, but in front of the whole crew. I was in fucking pieces by the end of that day. Clare was already simmering with fury when Lilia came over to my trailer – she’d backed me up all the way, which helped. She even managed to get Clare onside, so maybe it was worth it – they were the two most important women in my life right now.
The bullying had become worse, and I didn’t know what to do.
“You’ve got to tell Rhonda,” said Clare. “She should know what this wanker is doing. I mean, bloody hell, you’re the leading man. He can’t do this!”
“Guy seriously has a God-complex,” agreed Lilia. “I’ve been doing movies and commercials since I was nine, and I’ve never seen anything like this before. I don’t know how you stay so calm.”
Her comment surprised me. I didn’t feel calm – I felt like I was drowning.
A PA tapped on the door, throwing me a sympathetic look.
“Five minutes, Miss Purcell, Mr. Stephens.”
“Yeah, alright,” I mumbled, before slumping into a chair.
Lilia waited until the PA had gone, and spoke quietly.
“Clare’s right. Call your agent. She won’t put up with this shit.”
Then she leaned down to kiss my cheek. My skin heated up at the touch of her lips and I felt my dick twitch. I ignored Clare’s scowl and took a deep breath, ready to go out and face the wrath of Pencil Dick Paulini. Yeah, I knew the nickname was childish, but it was all I could come up with. Besides, it suited him.
The scene we’d been working on during the morning was set in the desert, but there was a lot of SFX stuff – dry ice and a burning bush. A magical waterfall was going to be CGIed in later.
I watched, intrigued, as Paulini personally adjusted everything in minute detail: cameras, lights, amount of smoke. It was obvious he was pissing off the crew by trying to do their jobs or checking up on them as if they didn’t know what they were doing. At least it wasn’t just me. But hell, he even had the sand on the ground brushed twic
e before the shot. Guy seriously had a broom up his arse.
“Okay, that’s good,” he finally admitted, surveying the handiwork of his fiefdom. “Quiet on set. Roll cameras…”
Someone called out, “Speed.”
Paulini squinted, then called, “Mark… And action…”
One of the braver PAs interrupted him quietly. “Um, Mr. Paulini, don’t we need the actors for this scene?”
I wanted to laugh at the expression of fury on his face.
“Fucking actors!” he snarled.
What a tosser. Yeah, suck it up, Adolf! You still need us.
He only made me do seven takes, which was rubbish, but a hell of a lot better than earlier that day. He even yelled at Lilia, and I thought we’d be seeing his guts hanging out through his stupid Hawaiian shirt. But she simply said the heat was making her feel faint, and retired to her trailer.
“I’d really like to make a film without actors,” he snarled.
He was stuffed now – he couldn’t get the shot, and he couldn’t order her back on set if she was ill. And he needed the film in the can. He’d just messed with the wrong woman. For the first time, it occurred to me that I wasn’t quite as powerless as I thought either.
Except for the fact that I was still expecting to get fired.
Clare
I swear I wasn’t doing anything stupid. Not really. I mean, it was 90 degree heat out there. All I did was bend down to pick up my water bottle.
“What the fuck are you doing, you stupid bitch?!” roared Paulini.
At me! Bloody hell!
I had no idea what I’d done wrong, and I stood there clutching my water, while everyone else tried to work out what had happened.
Miles stared at me in confusion and Lilia tapped her foot, looking irritated. A couple of the crew raced over to shade the actors with umbrellas, keeping the scorching sun from frying their brains. It was too late for Pencil Dick.
“You’re in my fucking eyeline!” he yelled at me, spittle shooting from his ugly mug. “Are you so fucking stupid that you can’t comprehend that?”
I opened my mouth to tell him to go to hell, but with two long strides, Miles was in his face.
“Don’t you bloody talk to her like that, you bullying bastard!” he shouted. “Apologize!”