by Cecilia Gray
And Henry… She didn’t know what to make of their relationship and the casual touches and conversations they’d had since he’d given her the tiara. He’d continued to be friendly. But he was friendly to everyone. He knew the names of every single cast member, knew their family stories. He knew enough to give a present to Ceecee to take to her daughter, whose birthday was coming up. While seeing how much he was involved with the crew made him seem more special, it also made how he treated her seem less special.
Not that it matters, Kat told herself for the millionth time as she pulled up to the set. A smile broke out on her face as she admired her handiwork. She had lined the white canvas tents with colorful Christmas lights, and with the help of the set guys had set up a small evergreen tree in the center of the main catering tent. She and Megan had decorated it simply with blue and white ornaments.
After Kat passed out the coffee, she went straight for Megan, who was hurriedly dragging stacks and stacks of champagne glasses from storage to the main catering tent.
“Quick, set these on the table,” Megan said.
“What time’s the wrap party?”
Megan glanced over to the set, where they were prepping the final-scene shot. The director kicked his chair, sending it flying.
“We’re running about an hour late, so…never?” She chewed her lip ring and set her hands on her hips. “Maybe a couple of hours. But we need to get these glasses out. Once they start filming again, he’ll want quiet.”
Kat set out the glasses and then went back to her trailer, where she began packing for the next leg of the trip.
She checked her messages from her mom.
Drive safe today. Text me when you arrive in LA.
Then Fanny:
Are you in any magazines yet? :) :) :)
She barely had time to text them back when Megan was at her door, and Kat was lured back to help. The crew desperately raced against the setting sun to get in the last shot. As Kat watched from the wings, she realized she had never felt more a part of something. Her hands were calloused from all the lunches she’d helped Megan make. She had burn marks on her arms from holding the hot iron for Ceecee. Her knee was still scraped from her run during her own scene.
Her entire body was scarred by her efforts, and she felt she’d left a piece of herself here. Her eyes suddenly welled up, but she blew out a breath and fanned her hands in front of her face.
She tried to identify the feelings inside her, to catalog them for later.
The only word she could think of was happy.
No, not happy. She’d been happy before. This was something more. This was being content, being satisfied. This was bliss.
* * *
“Last looks, everyone,” Ben yelled into a megaphone that rested just beneath his moustache.
Ceecee dashed into the tent along with the main actors and began touching up their faces—brightening lipstick and tousling hair into place. Kat watched with envy but stood by Ceecee’s side, handing her a round brush or the hair spray when she asked.
Ben asked one of the cameramen something, then lifted the megaphone. “Can I get talent in their places, please? Picture’s up, people. Let’s put this martini to rest.”
At his cue, Izzy, Henry, and Josh took their places in the center of Bande’s Main Street.
Ben called for quiet on the set, the cameras began to roll, and the director yelled, “Action!”
Kat watched, enraptured, as Henry taunted Josh and Izzy. The performance was absorbing, but mostly because he wasn’t playing the killer as creepy or deranged or manic. His hands were in his pockets. There was almost something “aw shucks” about him. Something endearing and old-fashioned—which made the scene even creepier.
By the time they called cut, Kat knew what his hats were all about.
* * *
Henry, Izzy, and Josh walked from set back toward the hair and makeup tent. “When can I get that dinner?” she said to Henry when they reached her and Ceecee.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Henry said with a wide grin. He scooted up into a chair, and Kat drew a soaked cotton ball across his face to pull the streak of fake blood off, just the way Ceecee had taught her.
“I’m sorry, whose assistant are you?” Josh said as he pointed to his own face.
Kat shot him a playful glare but dutifully moved over and attended to him.
“Where are you taking me?” Kat asked.
Izzy cleared her throat. All heads swerved to her chair, where Ceecee was removing her makeup. “Kat, you’re going to make me ruin your surprise. I was going to suggest we have dinner before the wrap party. I just got the script for my latest project and was looking for someone to run lines with me.”
Kat felt her throat go dry. A chance to run lines from the latest Scorsese with Izzy Engel? It was the chance of a lifetime.
But…
Running lines with Izzy would be a dream. But Izzy also seemed to have a weird way of wanting things on her terms—and her terms always messed up anything Kat wanted. It wasn’t even about wanting Henry more than wanting to be an actress. Kat just wanted to be someone who could be trusted at her word.
“Izzy, that is so generous,” Kat said. “But I’ve already bailed on Henry twice. I won’t do it again—even for such a wonderful opportunity.”
“I understand,” Izzy said airily. “You need to make your own priorities, of course.”
Kat felt awful and guilty—but then it hit her.
Izzy was always making her feel awful and guilty. Whether intentionally or not, Izzy always seemed to say one thing and mean another. Even if she wasn’t outright mean, something about Izzy Engel was mildly toxic.
Kat looked back at Henry, surprised that she had no regrets when she said, “You can pick me up in ten minutes…assuming that’s okay with my boss here.” She nodded toward Josh.
“Fine by me,” Josh said. “I could use some time to walk around my own space in my boxers for a change. That’s right, alert the media. The question’s been answered: I’m a boxers guy.”
Kat laughed and ran back to their trailer to change. Even though she wasn’t wearing the tiara, she felt like she was.
* * *
Kat sent Fanny a picture of her next outfit.
Too frumpy, came Fanny’s reply.
Kat groaned in frustration and changed out of the sweater dress into jeans and a gypsy shirt.
More you, Fanny replied to the picture.
More her.
Kat had never really given the matter much thought—who she was. She was always thinking about what her characters were like or what she would be like once she was a star. But never about who she was right now.
She was starting to see that being a star on-screen or onstage wasn’t the same as being a star offscreen or offstage. It was hard to draw the line between who she was, who she wanted to be, and who she pretended to be for a role.
But things were finally starting to feel a little clearer.
A moment later, she heard a knock at the door.
She opened it.
Henry was there.
She grinned.
He didn’t have on a hat. He just offered his arm, and she slipped her fingers into the crook of his elbow.
* * *
By the time they were seated in a cozy booth at the back of the ice cream parlor, far away from the paparazzi who swarmed the front door like vultures, Kat thought she was going to throw up.
Going to an ice cream parlor with Henry Trenton was no simple matter.
She could have sworn the cast and crew were giving them funny looks as they got into Henry’s car—or maybe it was just because Henry was hatless for the first time he wasn’t either in character or in Ceecee’s chair.
She knew for a fact that the paparazzi had taken a dozen photos of her as Henry walked around the car to escort her, and since they’d recognized her, the questions had gotten dirty.
“Are you two-timing Josh?”
“Henry, does you
r girlfriend Izzy know you’re cheating on her with Josh’s girl?”
“Since when do you date off-market, Henry?”
“Will you two give us a kiss for the camera? Come on, one kiss?”
Izzy had badmouthed the paparazzi one moment and posed for them the next. Josh pretended to ignore them but secretly postured. She hadn’t known what to expect from Henry.
He’d placed his hand at her back and guided her through the photographers to the ice cream parlor, chatting her ear off about how he was in the mood for a burger and fries now that filming was nearly done and he was off the serial-killer-physique diet.
Normally she would have found him funny and responded, but how could she when the photographers had butted in with, “Are you going to let yourself get fat, Henry? Could we get some fatty photos?”
When the waitress brought over two glasses of water, Kat gulped hers down.
“How can you stand it?” she finally asked, glancing down the restaurant aisle to the windows, where the mob continued to snap intrusive photos.
“I can’t bite the hand that feeds me,” he said. “Do I wish they didn’t follow me all the time? Of course. But they’re also how I get into magazines. The more people are talking about me, the more options I have for movie roles. It’s a vicious but necessary cycle.”
She wondered if Izzy knew that—but immediately realized she must. Izzy was smart and savvy. Only instead of acknowledging how much she needed the paparazzi, Izzy pretended she didn’t want anything to do with them, all while throwing herself in the camera’s way.
Henry snapped his fingers in front of Kat’s face. “Thought I’d lost you there.”
“Sorry, I’m a little distracted.” She had to stop fixating on Izzy. She was here with Henry Trenton. Henry.
“Want to share what’s distracting you?”
Kat hesitated. It felt like gossip. No, it was gossip. No matter how she presented her thoughts, they would sound snide and churlish. Besides, it had nothing to do with him. “Nope. I want a burger.”
Henry grinned. “A girl who eats. I miss those.”
“It’s my off-season,” Kat said. “I diet during production, too. Except for the one season when I was Toula in My Big Fat Greek Wedding and was supposed to be a bigger girl. That season was heaven.”
“My dad was supposed to gain weight to play the Pope. Wouldn’t do it. They had to make him a fat suit. They created a prosthetic to make his face look fat that they had to glue on every day. He says at his age, it’s getting harder to lose it just for movie roles.”
“I always thought it would be fun if a movie studio paid me to get in shape for a film.”
“It’s fun until your trainer shows up at four every morning for a three-hour workout and gives you nothing but protein smoothies.”
“Josh wakes up every morning to work out anyway.”
Henry looked at her speculatively. “He’s a hard worker. I give him that. I’ve known plenty of actors who are just in the business for the lifestyle. But not Josh.”
“Why are you in it?” Kat asked.
“The lifestyle, of course,” he deadpanned. Kat laughed, but Henry’s eyes grew dark and serious. “Acting saved me. That’s where the hats come from. I promised you I’d tell you.”
“I actually think I know,” she said.
He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
She nodded as the server came by and asked for their order. They both requested cheeseburgers, and Kat supersized her fries.
“Would you mind, Henry?” The server handed Henry the order ticket.
“Would love to,” he said. He autographed it and handed it back to her with a smile. Then he turned to Kat. “So…the hats. Your theory? Let’s make it interesting. If you get it right, I’ll pay for dinner.”
“You’re not paying anyway?”
“You still owe me for standing me up a second time.”
“Challenge accepted.” Kat sat up straight and placed her hands on the table. “I was thinking about the hats you’ve worn. The Scottish hat, the cowboy hat, the newsboy cap. Most recently I was watching you in the final scene and how you kind of got this old-fashioned vibe about you. It reminded me of the newsboy cap. Kind of like some hapless orphan selling papers on the streets of London. You wear hats to give you a certain type of character.”
Henry nodded along while she talked, which gave her more confidence.
“When you gave me the tiara, it’s because you were annoyed I kept taking orders from others. You wanted me to be in charge. Hats represent characteristics to you. Now you’re not wearing any of them because you’re just being you.”
“How are you liking me just being me?” Henry asked.
Warmth swirled through her stomach and down to her toes. “No complaints so far.” She pursed her lips. “So…am I right? I need to know if you’re paying so I can tack on dessert.”
“Pretty much but with one little difference.”
“Better be a big difference to get out of paying,” she mumbled.
“When I was a kid—”
Kat groaned dramatically and tilted her head back, the top of her hand on her forehead.
“Hear me out, hear me out,” Henry said, laughing. “When I was a kid, I thought half my life was a movie. Whenever the cameras were around, I’d ham it up, try to be funny or strong. So when the cameras went away…”
“You felt like you didn’t know your lines,” Kat finished.
“Exactly. When it was just me, I wasn’t funny or strong or anything. When I was in second grade, a couple of high school kids cornered me on my way home and beat me up—just because of who my dad was.”
Kat reached over and laid a sympathetic hand over his. “Bullies suck.”
Henry stared at her hand, a funny expression on his face. She pulled it back. But a moment later, the expression was gone, and he resumed talking. “My dad wondered why I hadn’t done anything. I hadn’t fought back or gone to the teacher. I had even hidden it from him for as long as I could. Which was like…twenty minutes into dinner. He asked how I could be so strong when the cameras were around but not when they weren’t. I’d explained I was playing a character for the camera but it wasn’t me. That’s when my dad gave me the hats.”
“So you could bring the strength of your characters into your real life?” Kat asked.
Henry shook his head. “So I could understand that it was my strength, my humor, my emotion that gave my characters strength, humor, and emotion.”
Kat soaked in Henry’s words and recognized in them what she’d always wanted to say.
“Playing a character isn’t always pretend—that’s what my dad says. Sometimes, it’s about pulling out something deep within you.”
“So where does the serial killer come from?” she teased.
He threw a french fry at her, which she caught and ate. “Don’t waste these.”
“The serial killer is there, too,” he admitted. “Not the wanting to kill part. But the narcissism that comes with being that kind of psychopath. Everyone has it in them. To be honest, I’m really uncomfortable dealing with those parts of my personality, which is why I put on the newsboy cap. I’d rather play it from that angle. This idea of wanting to please people but just having a warped idea of what that means.”
“It’s genius,” Kat said. “I never in a million years would have thought of something like that.”
“You have your own genius,” Henry said. “You have a way of physically embodying the character that’s really natural.”
“So it seems you are paying—with compliments, at least.” Kat said.
Henry grinned. “Priceless, aren’t they?”
* * *
Midway through the wrap party, the director called a toast. He thanked the actors then went on to thank the crew. Soon he was naming Megan and Ceecee. Then he said, “I also want to thank Kat. Kat, I know you came here to help out Josh, but you ended up being a help to all of us. Thank you for making it feel like Christmas.�
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Kat’s mouth dropped as everyone clapped, and the director moved on to other people in his long list of thank-you’s and Christmas wishes.
“Next thing you know,” Josh said, sidling up to her, “you’ll want to be in the credits.”
She shoulder-bumped him and wiped away the tear that was sliding down her cheek.
“Whoa, whoa, there’s no crying in acting,” Josh said.
“That’s a lie,” Kat laughed.
“Oh yeah, you’re right. There’s lots of crying.” Josh nodded. “But the work’s not over yet. We still have a week in post-production.”
“I’m going to miss everyone,” Kat said wistfully. “I have to say my good-byes.”
As she made the rounds, she took down numbers and promised to keep in touch. She didn’t think she’d ever hugged so many people. She’d made more friends in one week from all walks of life than she had in years at the Jane Austen Academy.
She was emotionally spent by the time she found Izzy, alone, leaning against one of the trailers. Kat walked up with a tentative smile. “Thank you. Getting to film a scene was a total dream. I know you made it happen.”
Izzy crossed her arms and seemed to burrow deep into her sweater. “You’re welcome. Although I guess once I got you on screen, that was it for us.”
“That’s not fair.” Kat swallowed hard and took a step closer. “We went for pizza. We had coffee. But you were asking me to flake on Henry—again. Don’t you understand why I couldn’t do it?”
Izzy shrugged. “It’s back to life for both of us, anyway. Have fun at your academy.” She pushed off from the trailer and walked away.
Kat watched Izzy and realized the sparkly aura she’d seen around her had completed faded. Izzy was a normal person, with her own insecurities and issues, just like anyone else. Kat continued her good-byes, making her way to Ben and the casting director.
Then she realized what she was really doing. She was delaying her good-bye to Henry.
She found him in a corner of the main tent wearing a straw panama hat. He had the relaxed, easy vibe of a guy barefoot on the beach. He waved when he saw her, and the closer she got, the more knotted and twisted her stomach felt.