“Fitzroy!Price!”
Theyboth jumped.Down among the forest of cameras, Brett was standingimpatiently, one hand on his hip and the other clutching amegaphone.“Both of you to makeup.Now!”
“Jeez,” Bailey said thoughtfully.“He gets weirder everyday.”
“I meant what I said.I'll talk to him, if...”
“No.Don't mind me.This has been coming for a while,Fitz—maybe it's time for Calvin to die.”He gave Laurie a clap onthe shoulder, then pulled him into a brief, unexpected embrace.“Come on.Get your face on and go screw Carmen.Then phone up thatboy of yours and tell him who really won.”
***
NicoleDelgado was leaning outside her trailer when Laurie found her,polishing one already immaculate nail.Laurie was dressed ready forher dreams—naked from the waist up, his lower half sleek intight-fitting leather.In his experience, most women actors took asprofessional a view on sex scenes as he did himself, but still hetried to talk to them beforehand, to humanise what could become analien, unsettling situation.She looked up at his approach: gavehim a onceover, then a surprising grin.“A worse fate could befallme, I suppose.”
“You've heard about Brett's plans for us, then?”
“Yeah.Wes is gonna throw a shit fit when he findsout.”
“Why?It's only Carmen's fantasy, right?”
“For now.But Doug's got plans for you—you've got to know thatby now.Wes is too old and fat to play Valentine anymore.”
“Great.What will you do tomewhen we're done—drown me in a bucket ofDrano?”
She gavea dirty chuckle.“I might not want to.Listen—Wes Lombard is a pig,just in case he ever tries to kid you otherwise.His father's inthe running for state senator, or Doug would have ditched him longago.All he cares about is himself and hanging on to thispart.”
Laurieleaned on the wall beside her.In a different world he would haveoffered her a cigarette, a companionable pre-coital peace offering,though that was one vice—the only one, maybe—his addictive-typepersonality didn't seem to crave.“Forgive me, but I haven’tnoticed you exactly reaching out to your fans and fellow actorseither.”
Sheshrugged, not visibly offended.“God, there's Doug getting ourdream-bed ready.Who knew I fantasised doing it outdoors in scarletsilk?”
“No accounting for tastes.You okay about it, then?”
“Sure.Hey, if I'm a frigid cow with Wes, it's because he'sbeen making that crack about kissing a fish for years now.He can'tturn me on and he knows it.You're a theatre actor, aren'tyou?”
“I was, yes.”
“Well, movie sex is different.And I know you're gay, but don'tworry if you get a hard-on while we're doing it, okay?I am prettyhot after all.And it's just an animal response.Don't penetrateme, obviously, but if the take's going well, run with it.No-onewill mind if you come.”
Laurie made a mime of reeling back from her, not entirelyfeigned.He'd been meaning to reassureher.Serve him right for hisassumptions.“Whoa.You shoot from the hip, don't you?”
“Best place to shoot from, I find.Or maybe I just like toshock upper-crust Englishmen with my vulgarity.”
Therewas an uncertainty in her smile now.Laurie shook his head.Hewasn't especially upper-crust, and nor was she particularly vulgar,not by contrast with what he'd seen on this set so far.“I'm notshocked.It is the best place to shoot from.And I haven't done abed scene for camera, so—well, thanks.”
“Thank me in between the crimson sheets, big boy.Look, Doug'sready.Come on, before he changes his mind again.”
***
Laurie'stransformations had stopped.There just wasn't enough of DevlinSteele for him to be, and so he was only Laurence Fitzroy, astressed, distracted actor fighting his way through ajob.
And Douglas Brett was feeling artistic.This scene, he said,would bring a touch of magical realism toBlood Moon, help it transcend itsgenre.Laurie, who knew that its genre—vampires and theirglamour—was the only thing going for it, by now knew better than toopen his mouth.Instead he lay still while a team of set designersfussed around the bed, tugging the silk sheets this way and that.He waited till Brett yelled for action, and then he tried todeliver it.
For thefirst time in his life, he failed.Not the hiccup he'd experiencedback in London but an out-and-out collapse of his ability to act.For the first time he was aware, from the top of his skull to thetips of his sweat-damped toes, of his own self within his own skin.He couldn't get out.And making this contraption, this puppet oftendons and bones do his bidding was almost beyond his reach.Hewas lying in a silk-draped bed in the middle of the desert, sunbeating down on his back.There were four Sony XDs trained on him,a boom mic so close that its sheepskin brushed his cheek when heleaned to whisper Devlin's intimacies to the naked girl in hisarms.
There was a naked girl in his arms.Normally Laurie wouldn'thave batted an eyelid.As Melchior, he'd tumbledSpring Awakening's WendlaBergmann in a hayloft to great and controversial acclaim,andRocky Horror'sJanet had pursued him backstage to finish what Frank hadstarted there.But now he wasn't Melchior or Frank.He was onlyLaurie, and the only naked person who belonged in his arms was–
“Cut!”
Bretthad been watching from about a yard away.His bellow made Laurieand Nicole jolt apart in mid-embrace.Laurie fell back on thepillows, shielding his face with his hands, and Nicole broke into afit of startled giggles.This was the eighteenth damn take.“I'msorry,” Laurie groaned, knowing the fault would lie with him.“Whatam I doing wrong now?”
