I laugh as I pull onto the highway. “Eddie, you know I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth, but am I really the fastest personthey can get? I’m not gonna show up and they found someone local, right?” Excitement makes my foot heavy, and the engine purrs.
“Guarantee you it won’t happen. It’s doubling for a lead, and the casting director assured me they are completely fucked if you can’t get there. She saw your tape and said they have to have you.”
My heart pounds like it does when I climb the ladder for a high jump. I accelerate, slipping into a narrow gap to join the flow of traffic. “You’re shitting me.”
“I am not shitting you, Mylo. This is a big fucking deal.”
“And you can’t tell me who it’s for?”
“And I can’t tell you who it’s for. All I can do is tell you to get your ass on a plane.”
The sky is blazing blue, the clouds drift high overhead, and it’s a goddamn gorgeous day to be in LA. “Eddie, you prick. I fucking love you.”
“Save it for your acceptance speech when you get your Taurus, alright?”
I have to be dreaming. “These stunts are that big?” The Taurus World Stunt Awards are the Oscars of stunt performing.
“They’rethe biggest. Mylo, you’re gonna freaking shit yourself when you see who it is.”
My limbs tingle, and my mind spins through all the action directors who might fit the bill. But I shove those thoughts aside; they’ll only drive me crazy. If I get ahead of myself, dream too big, and show even a flicker of disappointment when I arrive, I could lose the job that fast.
Right now, I need to compartmentalize. “Alright, well, it sounds like I need to get my fucking ass on a plane.”
“Soon as I get off with you, I’ll tell ‘em you’re in. Tickets should be in your email by the time you get to the airport. NDA and stuff should follow shortly.”
“I owe you one, Eddie.”
“You owe me ten. Now, go have fun, kid.”
CHAPTER
THREE
MYLO
The international terminalat LAX hums with familiar, chaotic energy. The white, sweeping struts that support the roof either strike me like the ribcage of a beached whale that’s swallowed us all into purgatory, or a sleek starship, depending on my mood.
Today it feels more like a starship, so that’s nice.
Tourists arrive and depart, looking around eagerly for the chance to spot a celebrity. I don’t bother telling them they’re wasting their time: the truly famous fly private, and the medium famous are likely tucked away in one of the airport’s many luxury lounges.
I jog up to my gate right as they’re announcing the final boarding call. Anticipating the time crunch, I brought only my usual carry-on—a sensible black nylon camping backpack with a bright orange luggage tag—which I keep packed at all times. The contents took me through a two-month Europe trip back in college, and though I’ve upgraded here and there, my approachto shooting on-location is basically the same. The production will provide everything else I need.
I thank the airline employee who scans my boarding pass, then lope down the jet bridge, joining the end of the line just as it reaches the door.
A tall, willowy flight attendant with dark skin and micro-braids raises a hand apologetically. “Sorry, sir, we’re out of room in the overhead bins. We’ll have to check that.”
“No problem.” I hand over the backpack; my phone, headphones, and passport are already in my pockets.
I tell the attendant my seat number from memory, and he gestures to premium economy. The tall, suited businessman in the aisle seat barely looks up from his phone as I slip past him and settle into the middle seat.
Fine by me. A minute later, I have my headphones in, seatbelt on, and eyes closed. I’ll need to hit the ground running in New Zealand, which means getting as much rest as I can along the way.
Time-of-day wise,New Zealand is only four hours behind LA. But since we fly over the International Date Line in the middle of the Pacific, it’s almost a whole day ahead.
When the plane touches down at five AM local time, I’ve been awake and listening to podcasts for a couple of hours. Jet lag won’t really be an issue going in this direction; if anything, it’ll make those early call times easier.
I still don’t know much. There’s a link in my email to a secure document portal that’s supposed to tell me more, but for the life of me I couldn’t get it to work on the in-flight WiFi.
