In a stunningly low moment, I fell asleep watching an Alex Chase movie.
Finally, the day of the table read arrived without any word from him, but since they hadn’t rescheduled, I assumed he must be back.
I was determined not to tell him I’d missed him, or how many times I’d picked up the phone to reach out, or that I’d worried about him since we’d been apart. I would not make a fool of myself by behaving like one of his besotted fans in front of the production team.
It was important to me that they got this film right and I had some serious concerns about the script. No one was going to take me seriously if they just saw me as Alex Chase’s girlfriend. This was also the first time I would be forced to interact with Max in a professional setting and I was nervous about that too.
I was Lady Elena, for fuck’s sake. Men bowed before me. I could handle a table read.
18
Alex
Ihadn’t heard from Elena since the screening, and that shouldn’t have bothered me as much as it did. She didn’t owe me anything, but I thought she would’ve at least checked in while I was away. A text, a call, any sign that she gave a damn about me beyond this contract. But it had been crickets.
I had no right to be mad about it.
I was nervous on my way to the studio for the table read, like I was a kid in high school about to see my crush for the first time after summer break.
When I got to the familiar studio lot, I was directed to a smaller building, and from there to a large room with a table in the center. Coffee and snacks were set up on a side table and there was already a number of people in the room, including Elena, Max, and my costar Melody.
Elena and I made eye contact and she nodded in acknowledgment, but we didn’t engage beyond that. I reminded myself that it was awkward territory because she was here as the industry pro consultant and probably wanted to make it clear she belonged here for more reasons than being my girlfriend. We needed to keep it professional, so it was a good thing there wasn’t any flirting going on.
Or at least there wasn’t any flirting going on between her and me. Unless I was mistaken, there was quite a bit of flirting going on between her and Melody, who was gazing up at Elena with doe eyes as she introduced herself and they chatted about the film.
One would assume my fake girlfriends, one with a contract and the other in the film, would’ve been competing for me, but the opposite seemed to be the case. I felt like a petulant child, sitting huffily at the table and waiting for them to finish their conversation so we could start.
Once we were all settled and Max had given us instructions, we started to read through the script. It was always a trip to see how different it felt when we read it together compared to the way it sounded in my head. It breathed life into what, on the page, amounted to a bunch of dialogue and some stage direction. It felt stiff, but we were reading and hadn’t rehearsed together before.
I could hear the way I was reading Lucas Steel wasn’t working, but didn’t know how to fix it. Part of it was the way the character had been written, but maybe part of it was my mood. I sounded almost angry with Melody as Freya most of the time.
Perfect. Now I was throwing a tantrum in character too.
When we reached the end of each scene, we paused for discussion, but there wasn’t much until we got to the first scene where Lucas Steel spanks Freya, initiating something sexual with her for the first time. It was obvious Elena had something to say, but Max tried to breeze past it.
“I have some thoughts here,” she said firmly, finally forcing him to listen.
He nodded, so she started to explain, “The way this was written in the book, we got a lot more insight into her headspace and the consent was more carefully articulated, but in the script the consent is dubious at best. You’ve completely changed the feel of the BDSM here.”
“How would you fix it?” the writer asked, ready to take notes.
“It never hurts to spell it out. Don’t make her lack of a ‘no’ serve as your consent in the story. Enthusiastic affirmation would be a way better policy.”
Max sneered. “Women don’t want a man to ask permission every step of the way. It’ll make him sound like an insecure pussy if he keeps asking, ‘is this okay?’” His tone was mocking.
“I fundamentally disagree.” She kept her tone conversational. “If done correctly, enthusiastic consent is phenomenally sexy.”
Max turned to the producers and said, “I didn’t sign on to do this for it to be taken over by PC feminists. You need to sort this out. Come get me when we can keep moving.”
I was watching the exchange closely, but wasn’t about to jump in to fight her battles for her uninvited. She could handle herself.
When Max was gone, the producers looked at each other and conferred quietly before one of them took the lead.
“We get what you’re saying, and we appreciate your input,” he said. He was clearly trying to placate her. I knew what direction this was going to go. “But we really feel like women would rather see the character be dominant and assertive here.”
The writer said, “This is the first time he’s revealing he’s sexually dominant. We want that to be clear to the audience.”
“Dominant doesn’t mean abusive,” she shot back. “Lucas Steel’s behavior here, the way it’s written, has all the hallmarks of toxic masculinity and none of the characteristics of healthy power exchange.”
