46.
October 2nd, 2020
“The pressure of looking good for the cameras at all times,” Kenneth said.
I clicked my tongue. “The pressure of trying to act as if we aren’t frustrated,” I countered.
“Crazy traveling schedules.”
“Having to watch the movie over and over during premieres.”
“Hmm.” Kenneth nodded. “Swarming paparazzi that just won’t back up.”
I pointed a finger at him. “Get ready; I’ve got the worst one coming,” I told him.
He grimaced. “Give it to me.”
I shuddered a little. “Two words: Repetitive. Questions.”
Dylan, who was with us, groaned in agreement as he continued to eat greasy French fries from the paper bag in his hand.
Because it was the second to last day of filming, Kenneth and I were discussing the hell we would soon be going through in order to promote and makeWaves That Hold Usa hit: press junkets.
As artists, we lived for the cameras and spotlight and the attention, but we had our limits, too. There was only so much a person could take, and when it came to a movie’s promotion, the “so much” and “too much” factors didn’t exist. Bleary eyes, lack of sleep, fatigue, headaches, mental distraction – these were things Kenneth and I were used to, but that didn’t mean we welcomed them all the time. It wouldn’t hurt if Ross went around beating the drum of his upcoming release for once rather than kick me and the others in the cast into the promo-hole.
Due to COVID, our appearances had been minimized, but still, Kenneth and I were scheduled to travel to a few cities in the US, and a few in the UK as well, to promoteWaves That Hold Us.
We had virtual interviews and signings, social media live coverages and sessions to execute, and even a few magazine photoshoots and one-on-ones to go through.
Yeah, our lives weren’t as smooth-flowing and glamorous as a lot of people assumed them to be.
“How do you keep eating these,” Kenneth said to Dylan as he gestured at his oily fry bag, “and still look fit and healthy?”
Amara walked over to us and stood next to her husband.
Dylan shrugged at Kenneth. “I don’t know.”
Kenneth rolled his eyes at him and looked at me. “I agree with your last one. Repetitive questions are the worst.” He shook his head. “I mean, how many times will we have to answer why we decided to do this movie until the two of us lose our shit and punch an interviewer in the throat?”
I chuckled. “If only we could get that satisfaction.”
He laughed. “Man, I hate press junkets.”
Amara turned to look up at him. “You hate a lot of things,” she stated matter-of-factly.
Kenneth grinned. “Yup, but I don’t hateyou.” He bumped his shoulder against hers.
She gave him an incredulous look, and then snatched Dylan’s paper bag from him. She flipped it upside down – which resulted in a few fries to fall on the floor – and then put the bag over Kenneth’s head. When it didn’t go all the way down to his neck, she applied pressure, which worked, yes, but it also ended up tearing the sides of the greasy bag.
I glanced at Dylan, and he glanced at me. Together, we began laughing, and Kenneth soon joined us.
“How do I look?” he asked. He placed both hands on his hips and posed for us.
“HAWT,” Dylan said between laughter.
“That’s not even a word,” Amara told him.
“Motherhood has changed you drastically, babe,” Kenneth said from behind the paper bag.
