Get in the zone.
Feel something.
Fuck, maybe I am emotionally stunted.
‘Where are the extras? This is supposed to be a castle hotel. The staff are supposed to be bustling around in the background,’ Max booms, and three teenage girls scurry closer.
I clear my throat and on the camera crew’s signal, deliver my lines again. ‘Sasha,’ I pause for dramatic effect, ‘it’s been a while.’
‘Cut!’ Max’s deep voice yells again. His frustration cuts directly through the crisp air. ‘More breathy. More gravelly. You’re meant to be playing a rock star, Nate. Own it. And stare at her for three, no wait, four good long beats for effect. Gaze at her as if she’s a magical gold-dusted fucking unicorn that you can’t physically tear your eyes from.’
I inhale and exhale hard, trying to blow off this cloud hanging over me.
Why can’t I just do it?
I’m an actor. It shouldn’t matter if I can’t stand the sight of Olivia Hansen-Lovett. Pretending comes with the job description.
I nod at the camera crew, signalling I’m ready to go again. ‘Sasha,’ I hold the pause for twice as long, emphasising the name like it’s Holly’s, ‘it’s been a while.
Max lurches forwards again. ‘Cut! Better, but still nowhere near good enough. I need emotion. I need passion. I need this to be sen-fucking-sational.’
I can’t do it.
I should quit now before I embarrass myself any further.
They could replace me within a few days. It would set the schedule back, but better late than never. And the way I’m performing, never is looking increasingly likely.
‘Go again,’ Max barks through clenched teeth.
I readjust myself, straighten my shoulders. ‘Sasha.’
A flurry of activity catches my eye behind Olivia’s left shoulder. Dark curly hair blows behind a petite, doll-like frame. A familiar-looking figure chases a tiny white fluffy dog. I stare past Olivia like I’m looking at a fucking magical gold-dusted unicorn. Because I am.
The mysterious Holly is here, on set. Blowing in like fucking tumbleweed.
‘It’s been a while.’ The words I’ve struggled with flow freely, overflowing with passion and emotion.
‘Boom.’ Max fist punches the air. ‘Now, that is what I’m talking about!’
My lips part in a grin. Not at his praise, but at the woman high topping it towards us in a red puffa jacket and a black woollen bobble hat.
The production team finally notice her arrival.
‘You can’t be here,’ three security staff say in unison as Holly approaches, flaming-faced and flustered. ‘This is private property.’
‘Tell that to my dog.’ Holly points at the fluffy white ball who’s bounded straight onto the set and is currently dry humping Olivia’s calf.
‘Ahhh, get this little rat off me.’ Olivia’s leg swings back and forth, but the dog clings to it, thrusting against her like her life depends on it.
Perhaps the dog wasn’t asleep the other night after all, because those moves are pretty dang familiar to me.
‘Holly.’ Excitement courses through my chest along with something stupid, like hope.
‘Nate.’ She nods and stalks towards her dog, entangling its paws from Olivia’s skin-tight jeans.
‘Sorry about this, guys. I’m so sorry.’ Holly scoops the dog up into her arms and fastens a lead to her red leather collar before setting her down again. Huge blue eyes dart around, focusing on anyone but me.
‘Hey, you look really familiar.’ Max’s thumb roams thoughtfully over his designer stubble. ‘Did we work together before?’
