Chapter one
MackenzieJonesisabastard. No doubt about it.
Here we all are, waiting for him. An entire crew, from lighting, to sound, to safety and costume. Camera team to the director. All just standing around, waiting for him to deign to arrive.
I can just picture him lazily strolling around his mansion in the hills, considering getting ready for his first shoot of his new show. What an entitled brat.
Thing is, when I had first briefly met him at the read-through, I had actually liked him. He had turned up in jeans and hoodie, dark glasses and the obligatory coffee cup and I had thought it was nice he was so casual.
I had also been a little star struck, of course. I was only human and he was frigging Mackenzie Jones. Being in the same room as him had been overwhelming. While also being a true, ‘I’ve really made it’ moment.
He had plonked himself down next to me, with a relaxed nod, as if we were old besties and I had been greatly relieved that working with him was going to be so easy. He certainly hadn’t acted like Hollywood royalty. He didn’t even have an entourage or anything.
But now, on the very first day, he is making everyone wait for him. Here I am, standing around in my very tight and uncomfortable costume, in full make-up, and he hasn’t even arrived yet. It is going to be a long, long day.
I think back to that read-through and try to see if there had been any hint of him being such an ass. I really don’t think there was. We’d even had a moment that felt like bonding.
The writers and the director had got into a bit of a disagreement and while they were ignoring us, I had turned to Mackenzie and said, “I think our characters desperately want to bone each other.”
He had given me a snort laugh, looked at me with his dazzling blue eyes and replied with, “We should totally play them that way.”
I had smirked back, and it had felt like a special moment. Now it feels like being stood up.
“Kit, let’s do some shots of you,” says the director, clearly omitting the ‘while we are waiting’. Why everyone treats Mackenzie as though he is actually royalty and they are honored to be kept waiting by him, is beyond me.
Surely the producers have to be fuming? Thousands of dollars are going down the drain as we stand here. But it isn’t my place to say anything, so I merely smile and get into position on the set.
It’s a rain scene. The machine is switched on and I grit my teeth against the blast of cold water that douses me. The days where I thought acting was glamorous, are long behind me.
I strut down the fake alley, to my next marked spot. Stop. Flex my shoulders into a ridiculous stance, whilst clenching my fists by my side. Then I slowly turn my head to look over my right shoulder and glare moodily at the camera.
“Cut!”
I relax my shoulders and the rain machine stops. An assistant rushes over with a towel and carefully dabs at my face. The makeup is waterproof but it could still be smeared.
The director is reviewing the footage straight from the camera, I like that he is old school like that. Most directors these days, sit on their chairs with a tablet showing a live feed on their lap.
“Great work, Kit!” he calls and I try not to beam like I have a praise kink.
Just at that moment, Mackenzie walks in. He’s already dressed in his costume and he prowls across the studio as his character, Cain. I watch him, completely mesmerized.
Cain is the bad boy necromancer to my good boy lightmancer and his outfit is all tight black leather. His blond hair just brushes his shoulders and I realize with surprise that he has grown it out for the role. He looks stunning. In the briefing they said Cain was to have long hair and I had thought that meant Mackenzie was going to have to wear a wig. This looks far better. I’m impressed at his dedication.
He strides right up to me and takes his position for the next shoot. No hello, no greetings, no faff. Is he a method actor? I stare at him but he glares at me with hatred. Already in character, I hope.
Cain and my character Abe, are mortal enemies. During the show we are going to fight for the love and loyalty of a newly discovered teen-witch, played by the lovely Alice. Each of us trying to sway her to their side of the two warring factions of necromancers and lightmancers. Light and dark. Good and evil. It really is that cheesy.
The rain machine is switched back on. Mackenzie doesn’t even flinch. I wonder why the director isn’t saying action, but then I realized he is waiting until Mackenzie is as soaked as I am. I try not to shiver and I try to match Mackenzie’s evil glare. Might as well get into character.
“Action!”
I shove Mackenzie back three steps until his back hits the wall. I bring my dagger up to his slender throat and hold it there. He glares up at me defiantly as the rain runs down his face. He really is stunningly beautiful.
Standing like this, it’s clear we are exactly the same height. Down to the millimeter. But really I know the truth. It’s that I happen to be the same height as him. All my years of hard work and dedication, and my big break comes because I am the same height as Mackenzie fucking Jones and the director thinks it makes a great optic. It’s galling to say the least.
Mackenzie’s sapphire gaze flicks down to the dagger, and he breathes his lines.
“Death she is a lady, most beautiful and divine. In the darkest hours of the night, I pray she will be mine.”
