I barely even know this woman! Why am I reacting this way to not having her near me?
Once shooting is wrapped up for the day, I find the director getting another refill of coffee at craft services.
“So is Andrea back for good?” I ask casually. I know I could have asked the actress myself, but she’s not very friendly. As soon as the cameras stop rolling after each take, she walks away to be with her assistant, not talking to anyone else. Andrea Block is the very definition of stuck up.
Paul looks at me with a tight-lipped expression my dad has given me a million times in my life. “You didn’t read the email, did you?”
I stumble over words of denial and then I stop and shrug. “I never saw it, sorry.”
He rolls his eyes. “It was going to cost too much to CGI her face into the film, so she either had to accept less pay or come back to work. She chose the work, but she and her agent are not too happy with me. Luckily, the network has her in a three-film contract so she can’t break it without losing even more money.”
He pours an obscene amount of sugar into his coffee and then looks up at me, a defeated expression on his face that tells me he’d much rather be directing big blockbuster movies and not made-for-TV romances. “We already got the major kiss scene in the ballroom done, so everything else should be easy enough to film while hiding her cast. They’re replacing the white cast with a flesh-colored cast tonight so it’ll blend in even better if we miss hiding it in some spots. Then they’re changing her wardrobe to include long sleeves.”
“So no more body double?” I ask.
“Nah,” he says, taking a sip of his coffee. “It’s a good thing too,” he says with a snort, “because that woman was sweet and all, but she’s a terrible actress.”
My hopes are crushed into pieces so small they disperse through my chest cavity and make everything hurt. I haven’t been this disappointed in, well, ever. When I lost out on the opportunity to audition for a superhero movie last month, I was devastated. But this feels worse than that. This feels like I’ve just missed out on an amazing opportunity. On an amazing woman.
I don’t even know how to call her or get in touch with her.
I take a deep breath, pour myself a cup of coffee and tell myself to get over it. I can’t go falling in love with extras. I know this. As long as I’m a movie star, I can’t go falling in love with anyone.
So instead of feeling sad and moping around all day, I should be grateful that life has taken Annie out of the picture because it makes everything easier if I‘m not falling in love with someone I shouldn’t date.
I’m not grateful, but I should be.
CHAPTER13
Annie
When I was a kid, my mom taught me that it was easier to just rip off the bandage from my skinned knee than to slowly peel at it. As a kid, I had assumed that slowly peeling away the sticky bandage would limit the pain, but it took so long and it only stretched out the pain. Using my mom’s advice, I grabbed the bandage, closed my eyes, and ripped it off instantly. It stung, but the pain was over in a split second.
It’s really easy to do that with a skinned knee. But in real life, it’s so much harder to rip painful things out of your life. For example, I had gotten used to going to work at the film set every day, anxiously hoping to see Trevor. I knew it was pointless to have a crush on this man because he’s a celebrity. Crushing on him makes me just one of a million women who crush on him. But I also didn’t care, because to be perfectly honest, my life has been stressful lately. Crushing on Trevor was the one fun part.
I had assumed I would have two months to slowly peel off the pain of losing Trevor when the film finishes and he goes back to his fancy Hollywood life. It was just a silly crush. I had two months to bask in it.
Nope!
Andrea Block came back to work early and I get a call at five in the morning from the casting director’s assistant telling me I’m no longer needed.
“Don’t worry,” she says, somehow managing to sound cheerful and also in a hurry to get off the phone with me. “Your contract was for eight weeks, so you’ll be paid the full amount. Thanks for all your great work.”
I barely get out a reply before she ends the call and I’m left sitting up on my futon bed in the spare room/office of Julie’s house. It’s early, and I should just go back to sleep since I don’t have to go to work today, but now I’m bummed and I don’t feel tired.
Trevor was supposed to be a slow, painful removal. And now he just got ripped out of my life. Somehow, the easier option feels like it hurts more.
I draw in a deep breath and straighten my shoulders. Back at my old job, my coworker Shelby was this fitness guru who was obsessed with wellness and yoga and stuff. Every time she’d walk by me she’d tap on my spine just between my shoulders and say, “Straighten that back, Annie!”
I’d fix my posture for her, then slump back down once she left the room. But as much as I don’t want to admit it, there’s some merit in her obsession with good posture. I feel a little bit braver when I sit up straighter. I feel a little bit more in control of my life. With my back straight, there’s not as much room for my heart to hurt so much.
Since I can’t sleep, and even lying in bed and closing my eyes is no fun because my brain keeps making me think of kissing Trevor, I decide to get up. I’ve applied for over a hundred jobs so far, and I have email alerts that let me know if anything new is posted, so there’s nothing really for me to do besides go outside.
The air is crisp and perfect this early in the morning. With my favorite pair of running shoes on, I walk out Julie’s back yard and toward Lake Sterling with plans of getting in an early morning jog.
The jog part lasts about ten minutes and then I’m out of breath and feeling like I’m going to drop dead from all the exertion. Gosh, I’m out of shape. I walk instead, heading in the opposite direction of the film set. They’ll be setting up this early in the morning, getting ready to film whatever scenes they’re filming today. They’ve rented out the entire west side of the lake, including the walkways that go around the lake, so it’s not like I could get close anyhow. I walk to the east, toward Roger’s Diner.
My phone buzzes from the pocket on the thigh of my leggings. My heart leaps in anticipation. Is it Trevor?
