She grins. “Heck yeah. The studio is really big on security so they have the whole set blocked off and no one can get in to sneak photos. But extras can.”
“That’s allowed?”
She blows a raspberry with her tongue. “Girl, no. Of course not. But you just gotta be sneaky about it, ya know? This morning I pretended to be lost for an hour so I could hang around his trailer and hope to catch him in some provocative position, but he arrived with a bunch of other actors and did absolutely nothing picture-worthy. Ugh.”
She puts her phone back on the blanket next to her and taps the screen. “But I’ve got two months to find something. If Andrea Block comes back to set soon, I’ll be keeping an eye on her, too. I could get a cool fifty grand for photos of that stuck up witch doing something she shouldn’t.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. It’s bad enough that actors have paparazzi following them around when they go out to eat and stuff, but on their own film set? Seems awfully intrusive.
“Since you’re standing in for the main character, you will probably have a ton of opportunity to get some photos,” Jackie says, leaning closer to me and lowering her voice. “I tell you what—I can’t give up my source, but I’ll split the payment with you if you get a good picture. I’m sure you could use the money. We all can use some money if we’re working this crappy job.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. But I’m also smart enough to know that I should play nice, because a woman who is willing to screw over innocent actors for money is someone who wouldn’t think twice about ruining me, too. So I smile politely and nod. “Sure. I’ll, uh, keep an eye out.”
CHAPTER8
Trevor
I film scenes that don’t have Andrea’s character in them for the next week. We have call times early in the morning before the sun is even up, and I get shuttled to my hotel room late at night, with only enough time to shower and pass out before I have to do it all over again the next day. I’ve almost forgotten about that cute stand-in actress until I get the call sheet for Monday’s filming and see Andrea’s name crossed out and Annie’s name replaced as the fill in.
I’m not exactly sure how the ballroom scene is supposed to work without the correct actress, but I guess I’m still so new to this industry that I keep forgetting about a little thing calledmovie magic. If the people in charge think they can get it done, who am I to question them?
I creep on Andrea Block’s social media feed while I sit for hair and makeup the next morning. The director begged her to stay here in Texas while her arm heals, but she refused and has taken her private jet back home to Cali. She’s been posting photos nonstop, showing off her purple cast and soaking up all the love and attention from her fans. She never followed me back. I don’t exactly care to have her as a friend, but as a colleague, this is the first time I’ve worked with someone so stuck up that they don’t follow all their other cast members on social media.
“That woman is a real piece of work,” my hair stylist says, seeing Andrea’s account on my phone as she looks over my shoulder. I click on my home feed to make it look like I’m not creeping on her profile any longer than necessary.
“I don’t really know her,” I say. “I only saw her at the table read and then the first day of filming when she broke her arm.”
The stylist smirks at me from the mirror in front of us as she sprays some kind of product on my hair. “You mean you haven’t heard the latest drama with her?”
I lift an eyebrow. “No, but it sounds juicy based on the look on your face.”
She snorts out a laugh and glances around, but we’re in my trailer and we’re alone so there are now prying ears to eavesdrop. “Apparently her agent informed her that they’re planning on using the stand-in for the ballroom scene and Andrea threw a fit because that woman is heavier than she is. Don’t get me wrong, I think that girl is quite beautiful, but you know, in scientific terms and all, she does look a little bigger. Maybe fifteen pounds bigger? Anyway, Andrea threw an absolute fit saying she didn’t want the girl to wear her ballroom scene dress because the fans will think she’s gotten curvier when they watch the movie.”
My stylist laughs a deep belly laugh. “The director said too bad, it’s written in her contract that they can do this very thing, so she’ll just have to deal with it. Maybe if she wasn’t so horrible to everyone, the director would have taken the time to find a more suitable body double but, oh well. She gets what she deserves.”
I smile but say nothing, even though that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Annie has an amazing body and Andrea should be happy to have her as a body double. I’m still new in this business, and for all I know, my hair and makeup people are Andrea Block’s secret spies, hoping they can get me to say something bad that Andrea will use to ruin my career. You can’t trust anyone in Hollywood.
But if I’m being honest to myself, I’m grateful that I get to film some of the scenes with Annie instead of Andrea. Annie is sweet and kind, and Andrea walks around acting like everyone should bow down to her. She’s no princess. She’s just a highly paid actress, and I’m totally over her crappy attitude.
It’s eight in the morning when I arrive at the ballroom set, dressed in a tux with my hair slicked back like I’m super suave. But my character isn’t suave, so I have to act like I’m feeling uncomfortable in my fancy clothing. Luckily, I do feel a tad out of place. I’d rather be in jeans and a t-shirt.
I find Annie standing uncomfortably with the director, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else but here. She’s been transformed with clothing, hair, and makeup, just like I have, but she cleans up so much better than I ever could. She’s absolutely stunning in a maroon silky gown that clings to her curves. Her “Andrea” wig covers her long black hair, but I bet she’d look amazing in her natural hair.
My first thought is that Andrea Block should be sending Annie a thank you card for making her character look so incredibly sexy in that gown. I can’t stop staring, and I need to stop staring—it’s unprofessional.
A crew member rushes up to Annie and begins covering her face in little white dots—then I realize what form of movie magic they’re using today. The dots on her face will make it so that they can CGI Andrea’s face into the scene later on. Clever.
“Good morning,” I say when I approach Annie and all the crew members around her. My director, Paul, says something back, probably a good morning, but I don’t hear it. I’m just looking at Annie. My brain can’t seem to focus on anything else.
“I’m going to puke,” she says, her eyes fearful and anxious as she looks into mine.
“Really?” a crew member next to her asks, a look of fear on her face.
Annie shakes her head. “No, I don’t think so. I’m just… really nervous.”
Paul puts a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t be. You have no speaking lines. You’re just going to dance with Trevor here, and all our shots will be from the side of your face only. Just pretend you’re Andrea, and you’ll be fine.” He pats her shoulder once, then walks off.
She gulps. “I am not Andrea. I’m not even close to being Andrea. I never even tried out for a play in school!”
