Thankfully, the tables are draped in white tablecloths, otherwise, the attendees would see my legs bouncing up and down at a rapid rate.
Roman clocks it, looking down at them and tightening his jaw. His hand flexes as if he’s tempted to offer it to me in support, but thinks better of it. Good. I’d slap it away anyway.
So far, the interviewer has lobbed safe questions at us. Questions about the stunts, what the process was like for costume design, etc. I know tougher ones are coming, it’s only a matter of time. I’m being wound tighter and tighter with each question that’s asked that isn’t about the elephant in the room.
“How was casting for this movie?” the host asks Arnold.
“Well, casting Eclipse was easy. As soon as I got my hands on the script, I knew we needed Roman on the project. I was lucky enough that he agreed without asking a single question.”
“A film adaptation ofDarkness Rising?” Roman says, riling up the crowd. “No questions needed.”
They cheer, completely captivated by his charisma.
“And how about casting the role of Moonbeam?” the host presses.
“Arnold, can I take this one?” Roman asks.
My eyes narrow on him.
“Absolutely, take it away, Roman.”
“Before Clover came in for her chemistry read, I was pissed off. I thought there was no way we could’ve done better than our original choice. I’m happy to report I was fucking wrong. Not only has Clover absolutely smashed it with her stunt work, she’s brought a real vulnerability and strength to her performance that I’m excited for everyone to see. It’s rare to have such raw talent, and Clover has it in spades.”
I work to school my expression. Of course, his words feel like warm honey. Soft and sweet and I want to eat them up. But I refuse to be that naive. Telling me I’m great after what he did means nothing.
“What about plans for future films in the series? What’s next?”
“Whatever they are, I won’t be in them,” Roman answers matter-of-factly.
Every head at the table whips over to Roman, mine included.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
ROMAN
Every eye in the room is on me right now, but it doesn’t matter. There’s only one pair of eyes I care about. They’re a beautiful green and belong to the woman I love.
Arnold clears his throat into the mic in front of him. “Uh... what?” For a director, he’s doing a killer job of acting shocked right now. I pulled him aside a few days ago and told him what I was planning to do here, and because he’s the best fucking guy on the planet, he gave me his full support.
“I’m not doing any movies without her.” I take a swig of my bottled water. “Her role needs to be restored, and if it’s not, then this is my last movie. Ever.” Looking to my right, Clover’s mouth has popped open. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m sure I have a voicemail waiting from a lawyer.”
Without waiting for anyone to answer, I leave the stage. The crowd immediately starts buzzing, and the moderator scrambles for what to do next.
I round the corner to the backstage area for cast members, and Deacon comes flying out of the room.
“What the fuck was that, Roman?” hethunders.
“Honesty. You should try it sometime.” I move to get around him, but he steps in my path.
“You think you can get up there and blow up the franchise like that?”
“I believe I just did.” I walk past him toward the exit.
“You’ll have to answer for this!” Deacon shouts after me.
That’s fine if I have to suffer in order to fix what I fucked up in the first place. I know they won’t proceed without me in future films. Too much money has already been spent for them to just toss it away. This is my only shot at getting Clover her job back, and if it puts me in the line of fire, then so be it.
For the entire ride home, I keep my phone off. The angry calls and emails can wait. Instead, I occupy my mind with the notes of Clover’s song.
