“Yeah. It’s about this deeply unserious guy, the punchline of the family. The family gets into trouble, and the only one who can help is the punchline. He has ’til sunset to save them. The biggest scenes are being shot at the golden hour, and I bet real money that the camera would love you in that light.”
Oh. I get it.
“Gee, I wonder where you got that idea from?” I rub my arms. “Besides, you don’t want to go pissing off the real actors by hiring me.”
“You took acting lessons, Mav.” He lets out a big sigh. “From an industry legend. For years.”
I shush him, even though there’s no one else around. “Nobody knows that.”
Ru’s also the only one who knows about my martial arts training and the therapy I get for sensory regulation and language processing. Obviously, my dads made sure I had the best specialists as a kid, but people don’t realize that shit needs constant work.
I can practically hear him roll his eyes. “I don’t know why you don’t let people in, Mav. You’re pretty awesome.”
“Whatever.”
“Anyway. I just got off the phone with the head of the studio. Go outside—it’s the perfect time right now—take a selfie, send it to me, and…I dunno. Let’s just see what happens,” he says, insistent in a way that he rarely is.
I get asked for a lot of shit from a lot of different people and have gotten really good at saying no when it’s not good for me. This, on the other hand, is the easiest yes.
“Of course, cuz. I’ll take a selfie for you.”
His sigh of relief makes me smile.
“Can you make it street level? Maybe go down to Rainey and do it in studio mode so the people are fuzzed out behind you?”
“Did you just try to direct a selfie fromthesocial media king?”
Ru laughs. “Sorry, take whatever pictures you think would show you in the best light.”
We end the call quickly, and I race to my room, changing into a pair of well-fitting jeans, a white T-shirt, a candy necklace, and an open cream linen button-up, something with a loose weavethat the fading sunlight can shine through. I turn back at the last minute and add a thin wing of gold eyeliner, which completes the look.
I make my way down to street level via the back alley so I’m not mobbed the second I walk out of my building. The sun is in exactly the right position, though the taller buildings are throwing shadows. I jog down a couple of blocks to where the buildings aren’t as tall and make my way onto Rainey.
I can definitely make this work.
The sidewalks are too clogged for the effect Ru wants, but there’s not much traffic since they’ll be closing the roads shortly. Looking both ways, I step into the middle of the street and check myself out in the screen.
Yep, that’s exactly what he needs. People in the background, but not too close, atmospheric lighting that can play romantic, dramatic, or even futuristic. I take a few selfies with the golden light shining in my face, loving how the camera captures the textures of the linen shirt and the golden-orange streaks where my hair gets a little lighter at the ends.
Thinking about the serious nature of the film, I turn around so I’m backlit by the quickly descending sun and take a few selfies from that angle. A truck rounds the corner going way too fast, then honks at me even as I jump out of the way.
Asswipe.
I ignore him, used to shutting down my natural reactions in public. The guy recognizes me, though, calling out my name along with a few choice slurs.
I thought we’d moved beyond homophobia as a society, but I guess there will always be strays. Stepping back into the middle of the street, I send him the middle finger. Angling my phone, I snap a picture of my raised finger in the foreground with the truck in the background, knowing Ru will think it’s hilarious.
The asshole driver apparently doesn’t appreciate my humor and screeches to a halt, hopping out of his truck, all swole shoulders and shitty attitude.
Mistake.
I may be a pretty boy, but this idiot is about to discover that I am not one to be fucked with. I pocket my phone and take an aggressive stance. He speeds up.
Based on his uneven jog, I’m guessing he doesn’t do one lick of cardio or flexibility training, and I’m gonna have him on the ground in under thirty seconds.
“Return to your car, sir,” a familiar voice demands.
I spin around and…“Booney! I haven’t seen you in forever!”
