We just lost our lead male actor. Production starts in fifteen days. I’m not panicking…
Day 370,
Our first day of production of the film Ageless.
I ball my hand into a fist, bringing it to the door to yell, “Audrey!” several times until she answers. I tug on my necklace as the nerves of today hit me.
Even though Skye left me a year ago, the pendant has decided to not leave me quite yet. Not that I am complaining, because it’s a staple of my wardrobe at this point.
I still cling onto it when I’m nervous.
Audrey finally swings the door open, a pencil stuck in her hair and her undereyes showing her state of mind.
“Fashionably late, as always,” I say, handing her the chai latte.
“Ehh, they love the anticipation.” Audrey shimmies her shoulders before taking it from my hand.
She smacks her lips a few times after the first sip before pushing the cup in my face. “So good, want some?”
“No, I’m good. Chai has never been my thing.”
“Your loss…” We walk in unison through the video village, passing the trailers as everyone frantically runs around trying to memorize new lines.
Audrey’s creative adrenaline after a long night of cocktails has led to most of the cast panicking.
“How are you feeling?” Audrey grabs my shoulders and scans my eyes. I am puffy and exhausted, but none of that fazes me.
I let out an exasperated breath. “Good. I’m good. This is big.”
“Yes, I was hoping you would feel that way. Oh—I forgot to tell you about the recasting for the male lead. With all the great press lately we had gotten, a big name on the film to keep Fairwinds happy.”
“Okay, yeah, I was wondering what the plan was for that. Did you decide to go with my backup choice?”
“No,” she says flatly, flashing a slanted smile as we keep walking.
“I liked Theo—poor guy.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll like this guy better.” Audrey and I link elbows as we make our way to the sound stage. A chair reads “Charlotte Tate, Assistant Producer.”
“Did you know about this?” I whisper.
“Yeah, silly. Everyone important gets one.”
I jump into the chair like a little kid and situate myself in the perfect position where I can cross my legs and read my script peacefully before we start.
“T-minus ten minutes, everyone,” the PA yells across the set. Audrey and I both look at each other, buzzing. Our smiles couldn’t be wider. Before the ten minutes are up, I’m almost finished with my coffee, rereading the lines I wrote in the script.
“Alright, everyone on set,” the PA yells, and the lighting gets brighter over center stage.
“Holden, stand at marker two. Brooklyn, marker one.”
I blink a few times, trying to catch what the PA just said.
Audrey whispers, “We are starting,” when my eyes snap away from my script to see the scene play out. The whole set comes together perfectly. We are surrounded by rolling gurneys, a circular reception desk with nurses placed around the table and a bustle of extras looking sick or dying.
“Do you think you can give us one more chance?”
“Chance? You didn’t even tell me you were dying. One minute I am falling in love with you, the next you are fainting in a parking lot.”
