by B. B. Hamel
“It’ll supercharge the box office,” Harold says. “You two date, do the press tour together, and when the movie comes out on DVD, you break up.”
“Which’ll drive DVD sales,” Vincent chimes in.
“Fucking hell, you guys have it all planned out,” I say, shaking my head and smiling.
Harold smiles at me, leaning toward me over the table. “Look, Jackson, I know you’re new at this, but trust me. This is a regular part of it. Your relationship with Holly won’t be real.”
I glance at her again and she shrugs a little at me. “Like I said, I’ve done it before. So I wouldn’t mind giving it another shot.”
I sigh and sip my drink, stalling for time. They’re all looking at me, waiting for me to say something, but I don’t know what to say.
“I’m not interested,” I say finally.
Vincent and Harold exchange another look. “I think that’s a mistake,” Harold says.
“Why?” I ask him. “Going to replace me, reshoot everything I already did? Truth is, guys, I hate this Hollywood shit. I’m not selling myself that much.”
I push back from the table and stand. Harold stands with me and walks by my side as I head back through the house.
“Okay, Jackson, listen, just think about it,” he says to me. “Understand? Just think about it.”
“Nothing to think about,” I say to him as I reach the front door. “But if you’ve got something real for me, come and find me.”
He smiles at me. “I gotta say, I respect you for standing up like this, but it’s a mistake.”
“Maybe,” I say with a little shrug. “We’ll see.”
I push out the door and head back down the driveway toward the car that’s still waiting for me.
I can’t do this fake relationship shit, not when Tara is already jealous of Holly. It’ll wreck her and wreck what he have. We just kissed and she’s finally starting to open up to me a little bit. If I do this fake relationship, it’ll destroy her.
I won’t do that to her again. I can’t do it. Even though they’re making it sound like a totally normal thing, it’s fucking not. I won’t get sucked into the Hollywood way of thinking and looking at things, not if I can help it.
I’m above that, or at least I want to be. I need to do better, for her sake as well as for my own.
12
Tara
I feel like I’m back in high school again.
When we were younger, we mostly keep our relationship to ourselves. Everyone knew we were together, of course, but we weren’t hanging off each other in the hallways like a lot of the other couples.
I liked that about him. He wasn’t exactly reserved, but he was serious. I felt like making out with him in the hall would somehow disrespect what we had, like our relationship was real compared to all the other fake ones around us. It made it feel special again.
I feel that way now. It’s so stupid and insane, since I’m an adult now and we are definitely not in a relationship, but I can’t help but look at him and feel that, even if it’s just a shade of that teenage-brain-induced love madness.
I can’t lie and pretend like I don’t enjoy it. I like that we kissed yesterday, and I like that nobody knows about it. He hasn’t come up to me yet today, although he did smile when he came onto set. Mostly he’s working through the action sequences set up for today, and I’m doing my job as well, but I keep stealing glances at him. I keep thinking about that kiss, the way it felt, and I keep feeling like a schoolgirl again.
I feel silly. I feel good. It’s a particular feeling, something I can’t really explain. Maybe it’s falling in love again. Or maybe it’s waking up only to realize that you’ve always been in love, and it hasn’t gone away.
Not that I’m actually in love with him right now. God, that would be so stupid. No, that’s just the closest I can come to explaining this feeling.
When you’re a kid, everything is so much more intense. The chemicals in your brain are going nuts, and you’re basically drunk with hormones all the time. Plus, everything is new, especially when you’re a teenager. I was just discovering my body back then, and Jackson was slowly helping me do it. Maybe we didn’t have sex, but we did other stuff, and we were going to do it sooner or later. But back then, even a simple kiss took me places I don’t think I’ve been ever since.
I always assumed those feelings were gone forever. I never knew I felt those things, not because of my crazy teen brain, but because of Jackson.
I felt it all over when he kissed me. It was like a whole body high. It was so intense that I could barely breathe afterward. I had to hustle him out of there, or else I was going to do something really stupid, like throw myself at him.
Maybe it’s impossible to explain. But in short, I feel like a kid again, and it feels so good.
When we break for lunch, Jackson is nowhere to be found, but I don’t think anything of it. I figure he’s just busy running lines or something for our upcoming shots. He has some line-heavy scenes, and I know actors worry about remembering everything.
When we get back to shooting, something’s weird. He’s not looking at me, not even coming close to looking at me. When I have to feed him a line, he doesn’t meet my eye, just accepts it and moves on. He doesn’t smile at me, doesn’t even act like he knows me. It’s like an entirely new person is out there now, and I have no clue what changed.
I’m the type of person to get paralyzed in analysis, but I’m going to resist that. I won’t dig too deeply into this. He might just be concentrating on his job, or maybe he’s just in a bad mood or something. I can’t worry about Jackson like this, I just have to do my job and keep moving forward.
The day goes on and finally we wrap shooting. As I clean up the script and go over the day with Lionel, Jackson disappears back into his trailer. Normally he stands around and chats with the crew, but today he just ran off like something is up.
I get finished with Lionel, and as I’m walking back toward my locker, I run into Paul the lighting guy. “How you doin’, script girl?” he asks me.
“Pretty good,” I say. The crew’s been nicer to me ever since I went out with them, although I did run away pretty fast. I think Jackson talked me up or something.
“You hear the gossip?” he asks me, grinning.
“I don’t think so,” I say. “Lay it on me.”
“Apparently, Jackson was yelling in his trailer earlier at lunch. And now there are rumors about him and Holly.”
I raise an eyebrow and my heart starts to beat faster. “Holly?” I ask, not wanting to know.
“I think they’re together. Dunno what it means that he was yelling at someone, maybe trouble in paradise.”
I take a deep breath. “Sounds like the usual set crap,” I say to him, trying to smile.
He laughs. “Yeah, can’t get away from it with these movie stars. Always got to be dramatic.”
“You’re not wrong about that,” I say.
“Well, you have a good night, script girl. Good work today.”
“You too, Paul.” I nod to him and hurry off, heart racing.
What the hell was he talking about, Holly and Jackson? And why was he yelling in his trailer?
I put my things away, locking up the master script in my locker. I don’t know what the heck is going on, but I can’t help but think about the way he was reacting earlier. Maybe something really is wrong, and he’s fighting with Holly about something. I know the studios are always pushing these actors together, but I thought Jackson was above all that stuff.
I head home, trying not to obsess too much, but that’s in my personality. I get back to my little bungalow apartment and head inside to find Laney sitting on the couch, eating a bowl of Cocoa Puffs.
“’Sup girl,” she says as I walk in, a mouth full of cereal.
“Did you move yet today?”
She shrugs. “I went to the kitchen.”
“And did you write?”
“What are you, my agent?”
&
nbsp; “No,” I say, flopping down on the chair next to her. “But you gotta sell some movies so I can work on them.”
“Working on it,” she says, taking a big mouthful of chocolate sugar. “This stuff is so good.”
“It’s just sugar, you know.”
“Oh, I know.” She grins at me. “I work from home, so who am I impressing?”
I sigh. “Your pancreas?”
“She’s good. Very strong.” She pats her stomach.
“Your pancreas is a girl?”
“Of course,” Laney says. “Every organ I have is a girl, but if I were a guy, they’d all be a dude.”
“Makes sense,” I say, nodding at her simple logic.
Laney flips the television channel and lands on one of those gossip shows. It’s a new episode, because they’re talking about some really recent drama. I’m only half paying attention as I scroll through Facebook on my phone when I suddenly hear Jackson’s name.
“That’s right,” the presenter, a chic and thin-looking brunette woman with an Italian name, “the new hunky action star Jackson Hendricks is confirmed to be dating his dreamy co-star, Holly Hart. We don’t know when this little on-set fling began, but apparently it’s hot and heavy already.”
I stare at the TV as they transition into another short bit of news about some teen actor I’ve never heard of. I keep staring at the TV, totally blown away.
“Hey, Tara, you okay?”
I blink and look over at Laney. “Yes,” I say softly.
“You look like you just saw a ghost. Seriously, you okay? Is it the Hendricks thing we just saw?”
I stare at her and I want to tell her everything, but I can’t, not now. Especially not now.
“I’m just an idiot,” I say, and get up off my chair. I quickly walk out of the room, ignoring Laney’s protests, and shut my bedroom door quietly behind me. I lock it and sit down on my bed, head in my hands.
I feel so stupid. I feel like a total idiot. I let myself get my hopes up again, and now he’s destroying them. Jackson will break me, every single time, and I can’t ever let him get close to me. I opened myself again, imagined what it could be like, and here I am, broken all over.
I feel that hollow pit in my stomach that lingered for years after Jackson left me starting to open up, threatening to swallow me whole.
13
Jackson
I don’t think I’ve ever yelled at a grown ass man the way I yelled at Mickey Rains.
I thought I was clear. I told Harold and Franklin that I’m not doing the whole fake relationship thing, and I assumed that was the end of it. I went back to the set the next day, and things seemed totally fine.
At least until I got a call from Mickey, explaining that the relationship story was about to drop.
I fucking lost it. I’ve never felt so goddamn betrayed in my entire life, and the worst part is, if I don’t play ball then they’ll replace me. Despite the fact that I’m headlining this film and have a bunch of scenes fucking shot already, they’ll cut me right out and replace me with some other fucking action asshole.
“That’s the business,” Mickey said to me. “I saved your career.”
“Fuck the business,” was my reply, but it didn’t matter.
It was done. I couldn’t change it.
Now I’m in a fucked-up position. On the one hand, I don’t give a shit about this movie. I’d gladly walk away and never look back. I hate letting these assholes push me around, especially when it’s a bunch of Hollywood douchebags. Maybe I’d be torching my acting career, but I’ve already made so much fucking money, I can easily find a new line of work to support myself and be very comfortable. It’s not about the work at all. I’d burn it all down for my own sense of honor any fucking day.
The real problem is, if I walk away then I may never see Tara again. She’ll disappear on me. Sure, she wants me, and we shared that insanely good kiss. But that doesn’t mean I’m forgiven for fucking up all those years ago. If I leave this movie, I don’t know what she’ll think, and I’m afraid I won’t get another chance to try and make this shit right.
But if I go through with this fake relationship, I don’t know how she’ll feel.
Then again, she’s in the business. She knows how these things go. I bet she’ll understand that this whole relationship is a fucking load of shit, and she’ll see through it. Or maybe she won’t, since I do think she has some jealousy toward Holly. Goddamnit, there’s no good answer to this situation.
And so I find myself sitting across a table from Holly at a nice restaurant, pretending to be on a date.
I don’t know why I agreed to this. The cameras went fucking crazy when we got out of the car together and walked inside. Fortunately they’re leaving us alone, but people keep glancing in our direction. At least I have some nice, strong whisky to help me through it.
Mickey told me I’d be fucked if I didn’t go through with this. I have to make it look like I’m dating Holly, which means we have to be seen together. This is so painfully staged, but it doesn’t seem to matter to anyone. For my part, I don’t want Tara to think I’m some fuckup still for losing this job.
“Just smile and pretend like we’re having a good time,” Holly says to me. She reaches across the table and puts her hand on top of mine.
I pull my hand away. “I’m having a great time,” I say. “Aren’t you?”
“Of course.” Her smile is plastered on and I feel like she might pass out. “You’re utterly charming, you know that, Jackson?”
“Of course,” I grumble at her.
The waiter comes over with our food. Holly got a salad, which she barely picks at. I got a big ass steak, which I dig into without hesitation.
Holly makes a face at me. “You know everyone’s watching us, right?”
“Yep,” I say through a mouthful of steak. “Might as well enjoy it, since the studio’s paying.”
She makes a face. “You’re so gross, Jackson. You don’t care that all these people are watching you tear through that steak like it’s your last meal on this planet?”
“Nope,” I say, and pop a big, juicy slice between my lips.
She sighs and shakes her head like I just said something funny.
I grin at her and chew obnoxiously.
“You don’t have to be an ass,” she says to me. “We’re in this together, you know. You think I want to be doing this?”
“You didn’t seem to mind at that dinner,” I say to her. “And you didn’t seem to mind the other afternoon.”
A flash of anger crosses her face, but she covers it up quickly. “That was a mistake,” she says to me. “And I do what’s best for my career.”
“Yeah, I bet you do, sweetheart,” I say to her. “Don’t you hate all this?”
“What, glamour and excitement? No, I don’t hate it at all.”
I laugh a little. “This is glamour? I don’t see it.”
“Of course not. But to me, this is the dream. People actually want to see me, Jackson. They’re paying attention to me. I’m some nobody girl from a nowhere town and now photographers want to sell pictures of me eating a salad with some muscle-headed jackass.”
“Sounds amazing,” I say, laying on the sarcasm.
“Don’t patronize me,” she says, still smiling. She’s actually a good actress, I decide. “You think this is all stupid, I get that. But it’s important to me.”
“It’s fake,” I say. “I saw real shit out there. You wouldn’t know the half of it.”
“I don’t care about your stupid military career,” she says. “God, all you military guys are the same. Like anyone gives a shit.”
That pisses me off, and I’m quiet for a second. Holly is a vapid, idiot girl, and I can’t let her get under my skin. She nibbles on a lettuce leaf while I take another big bite of steak. I wash it down with the rest of the whisky and motion for another one. It arrives right away, like they were fucking waiting for me to finish my first one.
I can’t complai
n. It’s good food and good drinks, at least, and it’s free. Still, there’s something off about Holly, and I can’t put my finger on it.
“Why did you pussy out the other day with me?” she asks suddenly.
“Pussy out?” I grunt at her. “Not exactly.”
“You threw me out when all I wanted was to fuck a little bit. You not into girls or something?”
What a fucking shrew. “You ever stop to think that maybe I’m interested in somebody else?”
That seems to genuinely surprise her. “You got a girlfriend?”
“No,” I say. “But there’s someone… important to me. And I don’t want to hurt her.”
“Oh, shit,” she says, smiling larger at me. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’re in love with somebody else. That’s why you wouldn’t fuck me. That’s why you don’t want to do this fake relationship.”
I stare at her for a second, not sure what to say. I buy time by taking a big sip of whisky. She’s right of course, and maybe it would be easier if I just came clean. Holly seems a little nuts and intense, and I don’t like her view of the military, but maybe she’s not a horrible person. Maybe I can even trust her, at least just a little bit.
“You’re right,” I say to her, not wanting to elaborate.
She laughs and shakes her head, clearly amazed. “A fucking movie star, in love with someone? I think I’ve seen everything now.”
“I’m not a movie star,” I say to her.
“You are. Come on, Jackson. I’ve heard things. I know you sleep around.”
“Maybe I did, but I don’t anymore,” I say. “Maybe I’m trying to be better.”
That just makes her laugh even more, which pisses me off. I’m getting sick of this fake date, and free food isn’t making up for it. Holly really does seem like a fucking asshole, and I already regret telling her the truth.
“Listen, you’ll find this out pretty fast. Relationships don’t work out here. It’s just not that kind of place.”