Hollywood Days with Hayes

by Hayes Grier

  Violet did the same, trying to control her giggles. “It’s a cupcake sandwich!” she declared. “Now can I eat?”

  “Be my guest,” Hayes said grandly.

  Violet bit into the creamy sweet dessert and nodded vigorously. “You’re right!” she exclaimed. “It’s delicious!”

  Somehow the cupcake tasted better that way. Was it the crazy Hayes sandwich style that did it? Or was it just being with Hayes? Either way, it was definitely the best cupcake she’d ever had.

  * * *

  Back at the studio, Violet and Hayes walked past the back lot. The jimmied-up tractor-trailer truck had been removed, but other than that it looked the same—minus the hundreds of people and the crazed feeling of panic.

  “I can’t believe that was only this morning,” Violet told Hayes. “It seems like a lifetime ago.”

  “I know,” Hayes agreed. “I was feeling pretty anxious. But now, thanks to you, it’s all good. Except…”

  “Yes?” she prodded.

  “Well, come here.”

  Hayes led her to another huge lot, seemingly at the top of a big hill. They climbed up and sat side by side against a log, looking out over a parking lot. “This is it,” he said. “The backdrop for my big emotional moment. The final scene.”

  He reached for her hand. “This morning’s nerves are nothing compared to how I feel about this. I’m dreading it, V. I’d rather film that motorcycle scene a million more times than try to cry on camera.”

  “That’s really tough. Crying comes from such a personal place. It must be hard just to turn it on, on cue, and feel as if everyone can see right through you—to the well of emotion you’re trying to draw from.”

  “That’s exactly right! So many times I’ve seen actors bawling, and it looks so phony, like they just sniffed raw onions and turned on the tears for the camera. But other times, I’ve seen acting so real, and the actors so distraught, I have trouble watching, like I’m seeing something I shouldn’t and learning too much about the real person.” He sighed. “It’s like a lose-lose proposition.”

  Hayes was really confiding in her. Violet wanted to tread carefully. “I don’t know if it’s so black-and-white,” she said. “You’re seeing the actors a certain way because you’re an actor. When I watch a movie and see a character cry, sometimes it is almost laughably funny. But when the emotion is real, I don’t think about the actor. I’m too caught up in the movie.”

  Hayes’s eyes flashed at her words, and he stared at her so intently, Violet felt a jolt of electricity. She jumped a little, and Hayes released her hand. Now she felt an emptiness, like she’d lost something precious.

  “Is that just you, though, V? Because you feel things so strongly?”

  Violet shook her head. “I think people want to lose themselves in movies.”

  Hayes rubbed his neck, trying to work out a crick. “But what if I can’t manage that? What if I’m more of a slice-some-onions-so-my-eyes-water kind of actor? It would be so transparent. It would ruin the scene—and probably the entire movie.”

  “Oh, Hayes.” Violet couldn’t help herself; she kneeled behind him, putting her hands on his shoulders and kneading them gently. It was all she could do not to wrap both arms around his chest and hold him tight. “I get that you’re nervous. It’s your first really big emotional scene. But you’ve got it in you.”

  Hayes twisted to look her in the eyes, and Violet’s hands trembled. “I’m so comfortable around you, V. I trust you.” He leaned back so their bodies were touching. “I can talk about things with you. I can open up. If you work with me, I know I could be raw. Vulnerable. I know I could do it with your help.”

  It was almost a declaration of some sort, and Violet felt her knees weaken. She swayed, feeling dizzy. She sat back down heavily and took a deep breath. “Of course I’ll help you, Hayes.”

  Violet stared straight ahead, afraid to look him in the eyes again. Afraid the feelings would be too strong. “Any way I can.”

  Hayes bumped her with his shoulder. “Thank you, thank you.” He turned toward her so she couldn’t avoid eye contact. “I already know we work great together. Come to the premiere with me tonight!” he said suddenly. “You can see what I look like in my new clothes, and we’ll have an amazing time.”

  Hayes was asking her to walk the red carpet with him! Was it a date? Or two friends going out?

  Would she get photographed, too? Be featured in the newspaper as his date, while everyone wondered who this mysterious, never-before-seen girl was? Is she an actress? they’d ask themselves. An old friend?

  A serious girlfriend?

  Violet shook her head to clear away the thoughts. She really wasn’t sure how a red-carpet event worked, and probably nobody would give her a second glance. And truth be told, she didn’t really care. She just wanted to be with Hayes, to share some special moments. And she really did want to see that movie!

  “I’d love to go!” she said, jumping to her feet as if they were leaving right then and there.

  “Whoa, slow down,” Hayes laughed. “I’ll pick you up at six.” He checked his watch. “Oh no! I’ve got to meet with TJ right now.” He touched her cheek gently, and once again Violet felt faint. “But I’ll see you tonight.”

  “O-k-kay,” she said as he walked off slowly. He turned to look back at her, and Violet gave a shaky wave.

  What now? Violet thought. She gazed at her hand, still trembling. Today she’d gotten to know Hayes in a whole different way. She didn’t think of him as Hayes Grier, celebrity, anymore. He was Hayes Grier … Well, that part was a question mark. Hayes Grier, friend? Hayes Grier, potential boyfriend?

  Back at the Hollywood Sign, he’d wanted to kiss her. That was clear. But maybe that was just in the moment. And when it didn’t happen? The moment passed, never to come again. But now he’d asked her to the premiere. What should she think?

  “Get a grip, Violet!” she said out loud. “Stop overanalyzing everything. You have a ton to do before the premiere.”

  She should get a new outfit; go shopping. Not on Rodeo Drive, of course, but somewhere trendy and hip, yet still reasonable. Then she’d shower and put on makeup. And, of course, tell Mia everything that had happened.

  Mia was going to die. She’d want every detail, from the second Violet said hello to Hayes to—

  Violet stopped. The first thing Mia would want to know about was how the fanfic talk had gone, a conversation Violet and Hayes had never had. She’d never told him about the stories! First there was the craziness on set, the realization that Hayes already knew about the site. She’d needed time to come to terms with that. But after, she’d been so excited about shopping and hanging out, about eating those crazy cupcakes, she hadn’t given it another thought.

  Until now.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  VIOLET STOPPED AT A LITTLE, out-of-the-way Venice boutique on the way back and found a simple knee-length dress, not too tight, not too loose. It was a solid blue that matched Hayes’s eyes, with a price that matched her pocketbook. The only slightly daring feature was the low, scooped-out back.

  At home, she called out for Mia as soon as she walked inside.

  “Hi there, my favorite niece,” said Uncle Forrest, meeting her in the front hall.

  “I’m your only niece,” she retorted.

  “True, true. But if I had a hundred, you’d still be number one.”

  Violet gave him a quick hug and asked, “Where’s Mia?”

  “She went to an art show at the last minute,” Uncle Forrest said. “She won’t be back until around eight.” He looked at her curiously. “Anything I can help you with?”

  “No, no,” Violet said quickly. “I’m going out, too. To a red-carpet event and a premiere,” she couldn’t help but add.

  “Sounds nice,” said Uncle Forrest placidly, not asking any more questions.

  Now, if I were going to a meditation workshop, he’d be all ears, Violet thought. But it was just as well. Talking about tonight would only
make her more anxious. And it was probably better that Mia wasn’t around, either. Violet would have to explain why she hadn’t confessed to Hayes. But she’d talk to him tonight. Definitely. And by the time she saw Mia, everything would be straightened out. Of course, this could change things between them. Whatever might have been between them may never happen. Violet sighed as she walked up the stairs, crossing her fingers for luck.

  In her room, she sat at the desk and swiveled 360 degrees in her chair. Shopping had taken much less time than she’d expected. She had plenty of time to get ready now. Too much time, maybe. She didn’t want to sit around, waiting for Hayes. It would really set her nerves on edge.

  Violet eyed the computer screen. She could write some fanfic. At the thought, a scene flashed into her head: a brightly lit football stadium, cheering fans, and Hayes, the high school quarterback, running onto the field.

  No matter what, she’d tell him tonight that she was the fanfic writer. So what was the harm in one more installment? She began to type, the words flowing onto the screen like a fast-moving river.

  “We are the Falcons. The mighty, mighty Falcons!” Franklin High cheerleaders led the crowd in a rousing cheer, then skipped off the field. The Franklin football team broke apart from a huddle. The time-out was over. It was the big homecoming game, and the score was 21–18, Falcons down by 3. There were seconds left in the second half.

  “Go, Hayes!” the cheerleaders screamed. Hayes Grier, the quarterback, gave a slight bow to the girls, directing his gaze to one in particular—the new girl on the squad, Rose, who just happened to be Hayes’s new girlfriend, too.

  The Falcons got into position at the line of scrimmage. The Falcons had possession. Hayes stepped behind the crouching center, then called out the play: “29, 31, 5—hut!”

  The center snapped the ball to Hayes. He caught it neatly. Then he stepped back, holding the ball high, looking to pass. The wide receivers weren’t open, not one.

  The clock was ticking. It was the last play of the game. What would Hayes do?

  He feinted left, then ran right, out-maneuvering the opposition, player by player. Just as the buzzer sounded, he crossed into the end zone. Touchdown!

  The crowd went crazy, chanting, “Hayes! Hayes! Hayes!” His teammates jumped on top of him, and they fell in a heap. Hayes pulled himself out of the pile, then trotted across the field. Everyone knew where he was going.

  To Rose.

  She stood at the side, a huge smile on her face. Hayes ran quicker and quicker, reached her, and swept her off her feet, twirling her around in a circle. He settled her back down, kissed her lightly on the lips, and whispered, “I was thinking of you the whole time.…”

  * * *

  The real Hayes Grier looked so handsome in his tux, Violet’s heart hammered the entire limo ride to the red carpet. It barely registered she was sitting in her first limousine, a sleek black model that glistened in the starlight. She only had eyes for Hayes. “Wow!” he said when he saw her. “You clean up nice!”

  Violet giggled. She thought she looked pretty good, too.

  Not much later, they pulled into a long line of limos. They were there.

  “Now,” Hayes instructed, “when the driver reaches that spot in the front, someone will open the door for us. I’ll get out first, then come back for you.”

  “Got it.” Violet smiled nervously. She did get it—at least that part in the beginning. But it didn’t mean she felt particularly comfortable stepping out of a limousine with high heels while paparazzi snapped pictures.

  Before she knew it, the limousine stopped. The door swung open; Violet couldn’t see who opened it. Hayes stepped out first.

  “It’s Hayes Grier!”

  “Oh my God!”

  “Hayes, I love you!”

  Fans, standing behind velvet ropes, screamed again and again. Flashes popped, and reporters surged forward, holding out microphones. Hayes stepped closer to the fans, taking time to sign autographs and give high fives.

  Then it was time for the press. “Hayes, over here! Hayes, tell us about your new movie! Hayes, give us a smile!”

  Hayes grinned and waved, then reached back into the limo, holding out a hand to Violet. Violet took it, sidling out of the backseat, trying to smile.

  “Who’s your girlfriend?”

  “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  “Over here, look here!”

  “Don’t worry,” Hayes whispered, slipping Violet’s arm through his. “Just walk. When we get close to those reporters over there, in the press corral, you step to the side, and I’ll talk to them. Then I’ll get you, and we’ll go inside.”

  “Okay.” That sounded easy enough. Violet breathed a sigh of relief. The press wasn’t really interested in her; they just wanted Hayes’s attention. Maybe now she could enjoy herself.

  Photographers snapped more pictures, and Violet walked slowly down the red carpet, feeling Hayes’s body press against her side. When they reached the line of reporters, Hayes squeezed her arm, then went to talk to them one by one; each reporter wanted a few words with the newest teen star. Violet could hear Hayes fielding questions and answering easily.

  He talked about The Midnight Hawk, about filming, and about Zan. Wait! Did she just hear her own name?

  “Yes, my friend Violet,” Hayes was saying, waving in her direction. “She’s an intern at the studio. Isn’t she great?” He posed for a picture, looking straight at Violet. Just as the camera flashed, he winked.

  What did all that mean? Violet wondered. He called me his friend, not his date. But then he winked. He’s sending mixed signals, that’s for sure. She couldn’t figure it out. Was he playing it safe because she pulled away from his kiss? Or did he just feel a deepening friendship? Nothing more?

  And how did she really feel? Would she be okay with a friendship?

  But all those questions could wait. The fanfic talk had to come first.

  Hayes talked to the last reporter, then hurried to her side. “Ready, V?”

  They walked into the reception area. Violet’s heels sunk into the plush carpet. She gazed at the fancy tables set up around the room, the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and the groups of stylish people talking and laughing as they mingled. Was that Harry Lyons, from the boy band the Balloon Animals? And that had to be Belinda Faulkner at the table to the right, the star who put the Warrior Woman franchise on the map.

  “Here we are,” Hayes said, pulling out a chair for Violet. It was a table for two, and Violet sat down gratefully. Hayes moved the other chair next to hers and turned his back on the crowds.

  Perfect, she thought. Now is the time. I’ll tell him I wrote those stories.

  “Having fun?” Hayes asked.

  “It’s amazing. I can’t believe I’m here.” She stopped herself from adding “with you.” “But now that we have a few minutes to ourselves, I need to tell you—”

  “Hayes!”

  Violet closed her eyes and groaned. She recognized that voice immediately. It was T. J. Meyers. And he did not sound happy.

  “Hayes!” TJ called again, making his way to the table, oblivious to everyone else there.

  When he got closer, Violet saw his eyes were blazing and his expression contorted in rage. “I just heard something horrible.”

  TJ pulled a chair from the next table, right before a thin balding man was about to sit. Luckily, the man caught himself. He humphed loudly in TJ’s direction. But TJ didn’t notice.

  “What is it?” Violet pictured a devastating fire burning down the set. Someone sick … or even dying.

  “Jack Hunter—”

  “Is he okay?” Hayes interrupted. Violet knew Jack Hunter was an assistant director, though she’d never spoken to him.

  “He won’t be when I get through with him,” TJ said through gritted teeth. “He caused all those problems on the set yesterday. He’s the reason we didn’t have a stuntman!”

  “Why?” Violet asked.

  “He never bo
oked a stuntman at all, that’s why. And then he went and lied to me, saying he had. I’m leaving right now to fire him. Face-to-face. I want that satisfaction. I’ll see you two tomorrow,” he added, storming out of the room.

  “Wow!” Hayes and Violet said at the same exact time. Hayes looked almost as upset as TJ.

  “I can’t believe Jack did that. That is definitely not cool.”

  Violet agreed. “Lucky you were able to step in,” she said. “Otherwise, it would have delayed the whole production.”

  “Well, sure, there’s that.” Hayes nodded. “But lying is absolutely the worst, no matter the situation.”

  Violet’s stomach dipped. She hadn’t lied to Hayes, had she? It was more a sin of omission, of keeping something from him—even though she’d tried and tried to tell him.

  “I can forgive just about anything,” Hayes continued. “But lying? Forget it. For me, it’s a deal breaker for any sort of relationship—friend, costar, boss, whatever.”

  Violet shifted in her seat.

  “But don’t get me started. I want you to have fun here! Let’s pretend TJ never came over. You were starting to say something before?”

  “Was I?” Violet said quickly. She couldn’t tell him about the fanfic now, not when he was already so worked up about lying. “I can’t remember!” she told him, adding another lie to the list.

  How would she ever make things right?

  * * *

  Violet tiptoed inside the Venice Beach house, turning to wave one last time to Hayes as he walked back to the limo. The rest of the night had passed in a blur. She remembered smiles and applause at the end of the movie, but nothing about the plot or the characters. And she must have talked to Hayes during the drive to Venice. For the life of her, though, she couldn’t remember one thing she’d said.

  From the bottom of the stairs, Violet could see that Mia was home. A line of light showed under her bedroom door. Violet smiled grimly and slowly started up the steps. Surely, Mia would have some advice to give or at least lend a sympathetic ear. Right now, she needed a friend.