Every day that we spend together is a constant reminder that our end date is quickly approaching, and I have a feeling Jenna Rogers is going to be difficult to forget.
Not impossible, though.
When did I become such a liar?
The night before we each flew out, I had a scene to shoot with Mara. It was an intense one, and I had asked Tahnee personally to be on hair and makeup duty. It took a little begging to convince her to keep it from her boss, though.
It wasn’t really ethical, but itwasa strategic move on my part. I didn’t want to feel Jenna’s eyes on me while I had to be emotional on camera with the woman who’s trying to sink her claws into me. I didn’t want her eyes on me while I had to beg that same person to kiss me, towantme—even if it was all for the camera.
Jenna and I are ending this thing between us in just over a month, but doing that scene in front of her just would’ve felt…wrong.
Tate and I arrived in NYC late last night, knowing we had the interview first thing in the morning. We were on the same flight as Mara and her agent, but I slipped my headphones over my ears and pretended to sleep for the entire flight, just to avoid her.
Once we got out of the airport, we headed straight for our hotel, and caught up on some much needed rest.
We got to the studio first thing this morning, headed straight to hair and makeup, and the whole time, all Mara did was make comments about how much better she thought they were at their jobs than Jenna and Tahnee.
“And they’re not hitting on you,” she’d said, her tone filled with mockery. “Because they’re professional and they care about their jobs.”
“You realize Jenna didn’t hit on me the first day on set, right?” I asked, and she rolled her eyes. “You seem to forget the night of the F and T awards whenyouhit onme. I told you I had a girlfriend, but you still tried anyway,” I replied with a shake of my head, refusing to look in her direction.
That night, she’d introduced herself to me after I had escorted Jenna to her table, hinting that she wanted to come back to my place. “To get acquainted,” she assured me while nibbling on her lip. But I knew from the second I’d met Jenna that she was the only one I wanted to take home with me, and not even Hollywood’s ‘it girl’ would change my mind.
Not then, and certainly not now.
“I said, are you ready?” my brother asks again, this time squeezing my shoulder, and I shake myself out of his grip.
“Yep, ready.” Nodding, I release a deep breath before walking onto the stage to meet Mara, her manager, Elaine, and the hosts of the Morning Show. My co-star is dressed a lot more put together than I am, with a tight-fitted, dark blue dress that hugs her body like a glove, her cleavage on full display, and a full face of makeup.
“Don’t fuck this up, Cole,” my brother whispers in my ear as we walk side by side, and I nod again, taking my seat next to Mara. His eyes bore into the side of my head from the corner of the room, and I feel the sweat beads on my hairline that threaten to streak through the thin layer of makeup on my face.
With little time to prepare, the producer says, “Alright, we’re ready in three, two—” ‘one’ he mouths. My shoulders square, my back straightens, and all of my attention is on the two hosts seated in front of us, Marcus and Mabel.
They fire questions at Mara to begin with. Everything from how she’s finding shooting a movie in a secluded, small town, to how she enjoys working with someone who’s making their on-screen debut.
“He’s been wonderful to work with. He makes getting the job done a lot easier. It helps that he’s easy on the eyes.” She smiles at me, then back at them, quickly placing her tiny hand on my thigh, and I watch as the wheels turn in Mabel’s green eyes.
I already know what she’s going to ask before the words leave her mouth.
“Witnessing the chemistry between the two of you right now is like watching the fireworks when the ball drops on New Year’s Eve. Is there anything going on behind the scenes, or is it strictly on-screen only?” she asks, and Mara takes the reins before I can even attempt to say a word. She places her hand on my lap again, but this time it lingers there. I attempt to discreetly move it, but she takes it as a sign to grab my hand, threading her fingers through mine, and placing them both in her lap.
“I mean, who wouldn’t want to be with this guy? Look at him,” she gushes, the pink in her cheeks deepening a few shades. I know it’s an act. I’ve spent almost every day on the other side of it. But the two hosts in front of us stare at us like a money pit.
And still, I remain rooted in place, seemingly forgetting everything.
“I think your female fan base is going to be incredibly jealous, finding out that the two of you are lovers on screen and off,” Mabel says, and I attempt to interject, but the words just…don’t know how to form. They’ve run away somewhere and have taken my balls with them. All I can manage to do is clear my throat andrip my hand free, interlocking my fingers in my lap, hoping like hell no one notices.
Marcus turns his attention to me, asking questions about what I was doing before I became an actor, and why I chose to pursue it this late in my life, to which I just shrug and say, “There are so many actors who started their careers later in life and are now the best the world has seen.” I try to keep my response casual and boring, hoping to veer the conversation back to my co-star, and it does.
I’ve never been a talkative guy. I’m confident, sure, but not chatty, and they have picked up on that, watching as I shift awkwardly in my seat.
“We look forward to seeing the film when it comes out,” Mabel tells us both, before looking into the camera. “We’ll be back after the break.”
Chatter surrounds us, Mabel and Marcus thank us for our time before Tate and Elaine rush us off the side of the stage.
“What was that?” I whisper at Mara through a clenched jaw, grabbing her by the wrist. Her body spins, colliding with mine, and cameras flash all around us.
Fucks sake.
