“Well, sure—now that you’ve given me a name for it.”
“I have?”
“See, all my life, I’ve been told who I am. Nepo baby. Entitled playboy. Hollywood bad boy. But really, this is an industry run by mega corporations, and I am their brand. Their fidget spinner, their toaster. The merchandise spat out of the myth machine. They tell the world—tell me—who I am, and thus, I am that product.”
“But it’s so consistent that people think you’re an asshole. I don’t get it—how does your real personality not come out—assuming this guy in front of me is your real personality?”
“I’m not great at being ‘myself,’ in public—like you with your arms not feeling like part of you. Years ago, my publicist created this regular-dude, boys-will-be-boys persona for me, and that’s still my default for interviews. He’s the guy you can’t help liking, even if he comes across a little arrogant. He’s flirty, he’s charismatic, he’s witty, so you forgive the rest. Charmed, in spite of yourself. He doesn’t take anything seriously, this Griffin Hart product, especially not himself. Doesn’t get sucked into deeper discussions, because that doesn’t end well. Is that me? I suppose it’s a version of me, but how would I know? I am just another character I play.”
“Okay, so trust issuesandexistential issues. That’s a lot.”
“Lana, I’m boring as shit. I got into this business because I like pretending to be other people, and it’s the only thing I seem to be good at. No one seesme, whoever that is. They see all these layers of engineered bullshit. I look in the mirror, and even I don’t know what I’m seeing. Well, I didn’t until I met you. You might have changed my life.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It turns out I am an alien hermit, and maybe I shouldn’t fight that anymore. So thank you for that.”
Lana laughed, and he shouldn’t get as much of a kick out of that sound as he did. There was so much normalcy in their conversations, amid the chaos. And now they’d kissed, so whatever they had going on, it’d moved into a gray area. “Oh, I don’t know. Vivien always says I use my introversion as an excuse to be an introvert.”
“Come again?”
“You have to push yourself outside your comfort zone sometimes, right? It’s the only way to get over yourself. Like, Iknow there are jobs I could do remotely so I’d never have to leave my apartment, but then … I’d never leave my apartment. And that wouldn’t be healthy. I don’t particularly like going out, but I do it because it’s good for me. Like trivia night. It makes me anxious—the pressure, the noise, the peopling—but if I force myself to go once a week it makes me less anxious about doing other things. It’s practice at being human.”
He frowned. “Huh.” What was his trivia night—the thing that routinely pushed him outside his comfort zone? When was the last time he even stepped outside his comfort zone?
“One thing I know? You are absolutely not boring. You want to see boring? Step into my life.”
“How about this wild ride you’re taking me on? This is more of an action thriller than some of the films I’ve been in.”
“And so out of character for me as to be unbelievable. But don’t get me wrong, I like boring. I love boring. When all this is over, when I confirm Vivien is safe and we can laugh about how much I overreacted, I’ll happily go back to getting my kicks from reading books.”
“Or—and come with me on this—you could go really wild and add films to your life.” He faux-gasped.
“Who has time? There are already more books on my TBR list than I can get through in a lifetime.”
“That’s the perfect reason to balance it with movies. We could watch three incredible films before midnight. Films that will change your life. I could change your life in three ways in the next eight hours.”
“My life has had enough upheaval in thelasteight hours.”
“Once your sister is safe, let’s do a movie marathon. A triple feature.The Godfather, VertigoandThe Shawshank Redemption. No—Inception, Thelma and Louise, andApocalypse Now.Just one night—push out that comfort zone.”
“Well, see, I’ve read the books, so…” He couldn’t see her face, but he could tell she was screwing it up in that cute way she did.
“All of them?” He pulled into a parking spot near the soundstage Natasha had directed him to. The roller door was open, and half a dozen people stood around outside. Crew, by the look of them.
“Except forInceptionandThelma and Louanne. I’m guessing they’re original screenplays.”
“Wait,Vertigo’s a book?” he said, as they got out.
“Based on a French novel calledD’Entre Les Morts. ‘From among the dead.’ AndApocalypse Nowwas inspired byHeart of Darkness. I’m assumingThe Shawshank Redemptionis based onRita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption.”
“So we’re on?”
They faced each other over the car roof. Various expressions moved across her face, like a sky that hadn’t decided between rain and sunshine. Not surprising, since he’d just told her how much it sucked to date him. Not that they were talking about dating. Just watching movies. Alone, together, in the dark.
“Step outside your comfort zone,” he said, surprised to hear nerves in his voice.
She held up a finger. “Only if I can subject you to readingThe Atlas of Lost Roadswith me. Like, in the same room. A ‘read-in.’ I’ll get two couples out.Copies. I mean, twocopies.”
