"Why don't you just choose between this one..." he said. He pulled out another shirt, also white, but with a delicate cream-coloured pattern on it. "Or this one. That should make it easier."
"You don't think I should wear something with a bit more colour?"
Arun rubbed Cody's back tenderly with the palm of his hand. "No. Black suit, white shirt. Traditional and classy."
Flicking his eyes back and forth between the two shirts, Cody was silent for half a minute, trying to decide. Arun stared at him, watching this display of indecisiveness, his eyebrows rising slowly the longer it went on. Finally, Cody reached out and grabbed the patterned shirt, unhooking it off the wardrobe and holding it out in front of him. He remained quiet for a few more seconds, before turning to face Arun.
"You know I had nothing to do with all this, right?" he said, circling back to how Arun had said that Cody had changed his life. He turned around and laid the shirt on the bed before swivelling back to look at Arun once more. "You'd still be going to the Oscars even if I hadn't come over and talked to you that night."
"I disagree," said Arun, "but thanks anyway."
"No, see, you're selling yourself short. Your talent as a filmmaker, and your passion for it, would have shone through no matter what. It's different for me. There's no way any of this would be happening if it wasn't for you. If we'd never met, I'd just be doing yet another sequel to yet another summer blockbuster."
"Isn't that exactly what you did anyway, even though we did meet?"
"Shut up. You know what I mean. And you've seen the scripts I'm getting now. You've changed my life in the best possible way. In a way that I never thought could ever happen."
"How about we agree that we're both great," said Arun, "if for no other reason than it'll end this conversation and you can go and get a quick shower, so that we won't be late for the fucking Oscars." He began to smile as he spoke, his voice getting louder by the end.
He was excited by the prospect of what the evening might bring, but he didn't really want Cody to know. As important as it was to him, he was more aware of the momentousness of it all for Cody. He'd made that leap, the one that had taken him from crowd-pleaser to respected artist. Few people ever seemed able to do it and those that did had usually spent a long time trying to prove themselves. Cody's involvement in this film of theirs had been met with scepticism, disbelief and outright hostility. Most of those critics had been silenced and a win tonight would surely shut down the rest of them. If the film won any award tonight, as far as Arun was concerned, it had to be Best Actor. He himself losing wouldn't matter. As egotistical as it sounded, he'd kind of proved himself with his first film and the attention that had brought. In this industry though, one success, especially at the beginning, was never enough, hence the hesitation in allowing him a second chance (it was also in the back of his mind that who he was hadn't helped things either). The success that The Snow's Fire had had—particularly the box office kind—would open all the doors. An Oscar was just a prestige that, at this stage of Arun's career, might actually do more harm than good. For an actor, blips were easy to overcome. For a director, winning with his second film would put enormous pressure on what he did next. Losing would only make people believe that the best was yet to come.
Even though explaining all this to Cody might make him forget his own concerns, the more likely outcome was that it would simply double them. Worrying about yourself is relatively easy to handle. Worrying about the person you love can destroy a man.
"Were your doubts only ever before making this film?" said Cody. It was almost as though he could read Arun's thoughts, no matter how well he tried to hide them. "Was everything after that relatively stress free?"
"No more stressful than I imagine every film is going to be." It sounded like a convincing lie.
"I meant what I said. I can shoulder the burdens for both of us."
"Actually," said Arun, throwing Cody a heartfelt glance, "the most stressful time was waiting for the reviews to come out."
Cody sucked in a sharp intake of breath, mocking this confession. "You told me that you didn't care about the reviews."
"I lied. Sorry. It's one thing believing yourself that what you've created is great, but it's only when other people say the same, people who have absolutely no connection or investment in you. That's when you truly know that what you've created is good enough." He sighed heavily. "Imagine having spent six months putting everything into this and having it destroyed overnight if the reviews were bad."
"But they weren't."
"Thankfully not, no."
"Can I ask you another question?"
Arun placed his hands on Cody's shoulders again, but instead of bringing him in for a hug he spun him around. "No." He pushed him towards the bathroom. "Shower."
"It's only a quick question."
"Don't care. Do I have to rip these clothes off you and shove you under the water myself?"
Cody's face broke into a wide grin. "I'd quite like that."
"Yeah, I bet you would, but we don't have time for that right now." He turned and walked away to go and double-check that their shoes were shined. "Ten minutes," he shouted over his shoulder. "No more. The limo gets here at half past."
In the back of the limo (that he'd kept waiting for quarter of an hour) Cody tugged at his shirt collar, pulling a disgruntled face as he did so. Arun leaned across and slapped him on the arm.
"Stop it."
"I should have worn the other one." He removed his fingers from the collar and stretched his neck, hoping to find a comfortable position. "I think this one might be too tight."
"I thought it was new?"
"It is," said Cody. "What's that got to do with anything?"
"You're not likely to have put on weight since getting it, are you? It was tailor-made, yes? So it should fit perfectly."
"Well it doesn't." He sighed heavily and folded his arms. "This is the Oscars. I have to look my absolute best. That's what Hollywood expects. Everything tonight should be of the finest quality and look as though it fits properly." His mind wandered back to the night when he and Arun first met. A bitchy comment about how Arun had looked that night popped into his head, but he kept it to himself.
Reaching across, Arun took Cody's wrist and pulled his arms apart, out of their sulking pose. He brought Cody's hand to his lips and gave it a gentle kiss. He glanced across at the privacy divider, just to double-check that it was still up.
"You look perfect, don't worry."
Cody gave the shirt's collar another quick tug. "Fine," he said. "I'll take your word for it."
"If you're not happy with it," said Arun, "maybe you should get your stuff made elsewhere." He was leading up to a question that he'd been wanting to ask for a while now.
"No," said Cody. "No, the guy I use is amazing. He made clothes for Sinatra you know."
"Wow," said Arun, nodding impressively. "He must charge a pretty penny."
Cody responded by staring at Arun.
Undeterred, Arun added: "How much does a shirt like that cost?"
For a few moments, Cody continued to stare at him, but then shifted his gaze away.
"Almost a thousand," he said.
Arun pursed his lips together and sucked in the air. "That's crazy. You movie stars really do get paid far too much money."
When Cody was younger he sometimes thought along those lines as well, that the millions these big movie stars got was excessive and ridiculous. As he turned into one of them though, his thoughts on the subject of money began to change and this notion that he was being over-paid irritated him. With the two of them now being in a moving car, with therefore no way of escape, it was the perfect time for him to explain his opinion to Arun.
It was clear to Cody that at some point the general public had decided that if a person was to choose the career of an actor, it meant that they were also choosing to give up their right to such things as privacy and freedom of speech. Admittedly, some people in this profess
ion went out of their way to get their name and face constantly in the media, but there were many people who did not. It didn't seem to matter though. This was not a choice that the actor themselves was allowed to make. Cody had been followed around by the paparazzi incessantly. He'd been spied on, hassled and borderline interrogated. If he wanted to go out anywhere, it was a constant minefield, an obstacle course of people wanting selfies or autographs or to tell him that he's a shit actor.
When the life of an actor is viewed in that way, the money they get paid isn't just a wage. It's compensation.
"People have said to me in the past that they think it's disgraceful that the people working behind the scenes on a movie don't get anywhere near as much as I do, and I agree. They absolutely should get more. But I have to do so much more than they do. When the film's finished shooting, that's it for everyone else. It's me that has to do all the promotion for it. Travelling all over the world, away from home for so long. And like I said, there's the pressure from the media too. If the film fails, it's not on the Costume Designer's head. The people doing the visual effects don't get dragged over the coals. It's me. I'm seen as the one to blame and any failures get carried over to whatever film I make next.
"So if you take that into consideration, along with how I'm often not allowed to say what I really think and having to behave in a certain way, then yes, I should get paid the amount that I do. And come on, if someone's going to offer you that kind of money, of course you're going to accept it. Besides, they don't know what I do with it. Nobody knows how much I donate to charities. But the second you blow a few hundred thousand on something trivial, everybody's up in arms. It's my money and I'll do what I want with it, so fuck off."
Arun raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Cody had made valid points but it wasn't really a discussion that Arun wanted to be having right now and it wasn't really something that he wanted Cody to be dwelling on either, considering how heated he was getting.
The lack of response from Arun was enough to calm Cody down though.
"Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to get so riled up. It's just it's something that bugs me. The public and media are the ones who have elevated actors and celebrities to this seemingly high position, where we're, apparently, the only ones whose opinions they'll listen to, and yet they're the same people who are constantly trying to tear us down. It infuriates me sometimes."
"Okay, I hear you, but just try to calm down a little. I want you to enjoy tonight."
"You're right, I'm sorry." He shuffled over a little and snuggled up to Arun. "I'm just nervous. I don't know how you can be so calm."
"It's easy. No big deal."
Staring suspiciously at Arun, Cody grabbed his arm and lifted it up so that his hand was flat in mid air. He saw a mild shake to it.
"It's just the road," said Arun. "It's not very even. They really ought to do something about it. Get it relaid or something."
Cody's mouth dropped open in delight. "You are nervous, aren't you?"
Arun rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine. Yes I am. I really do want to win tonight but I'm trying to keep it buried. There's nothing more unappealing than someone who clearly wants to win."
"It'll be fine," said Cody. "When you do win, just don't leap out of the seat and punch the air."
"I promise that I won't do that," said Arun. It was rather nice that Cody was so confident that Arun would win. Arun himself was doubtful that it'd happen. There were veterans of the industry and people long overdue recognition in all the categories in which he was nominated, so it wasn't a sure thing.
He looked out of the window and saw crowds of people and flashes of a red carpet between the sea of bodies.
"Looks like we're here," he said.
"No turning back now," said Cody.
"No," said Arun. His voice sounded a little distant.
"Listen," said Cody. He took Arun's hand. "No matter what happens, I'm so proud of everything that you've achieved."
"Thank you." Arun's eyes were moist. "I love you."
"I love you too," said Cody.
The door on Arun's side was opened by someone and the inside of the limo was swamped with deafening cheers. As Arun stepped out he realised that he was still holding Cody's hand. He turned around and bent down to look at him, glancing at their intertwined fingers. Cody saw what he was looking at and smiled, shaking his head. He kept a tight grip on Arun and got out of the car. The noise swelled as everyone caught sight of them hand in hand. Lights flashed all around them, the world wanting to capture the moment. They waved to the crowds, beaming smiles on their faces (they'd been well-trained in the art of crowd-pleasing) as they made their way down the red carpet, still holding onto one another. By this point however, it had gone from a romantic gesture to more of a desperate clinging, neither of them feeling able to get through this without the other's touch.
It was a slow walk towards the theatre, where the Oscars were being held. People with microphones and cameras swarmed around them, thrusting them in their faces and tracking their every movement, throwing questions at them, few of which they were able to actually hear above the noise. Instead, they simply carried on smiling, nodding where it felt appropriate and keeping their gaze ahead of them. A woman with a clipboard and a headset skipped over to them and stretched her arm out, directing them towards where a throng of paparazzi were gathered, ready for the kill. Cody and Arun exchanged a glance of wary dread.
"I don't know if I can do this," said Cody, leaning in close to Arun.
"Yes you can. Take a deep breath and just do it. Hold onto me if you need to."
They stepped up in front of the cameras and the lights that flashed away were almost blinding. Affecting the required poses, they stood like deers in the headlights.
"So the rumours are true then," said one of the reporters.
Cody was thrown by this. He didn't know that there'd been any rumours floating around. Once promotion for the film had been completed, he'd shut himself away from such things, as he always did, his sanity needing a break.
Arun, too, hadn't been aware of any gossip (the pair of them really ought to have words with their people) but didn't let it throw him.
"Yes, all true," he said. "Thank you very much."
He stepped away, down to the other end of the area. Cody was lost for a second and fell into his well-practiced bag of tricks—smile, nod, wave—before seeing that someone else had appeared to take their turn in front of the animals. He moved away and joined Arun.
"I don't think I've ever been so grateful to see Declan Hall in my entire life," he said, turning back to see how Declan (who was nominated in the same category as Cody tonight) fared with things. "He'd better not fucking win tonight."
Arun laughed and leaned in close again. "Now now, let's keep the bitchy comments to a minimum." He glanced around. "You never know who's listening in around here."
They rejoined the crowd of people that were making their way towards the theatre, a collection of nominees, presenters, legends and random people who must have put on a nice dress and somehow got lucky.
Ahead of them, Cody noticed a woman who was jumping up and down and waving. She started to push her way through everyone, heading away from the theatre and towards them. As she got a little closer, Cody heard that she was shouting his name. For one brief moment, his heart stopped, until, as she hit a clearing in the crowd, he saw that it was Amelia Ferreres, his co-star in The Snow's Fire. A Best Actress nominee tonight, she'd been catapulted from well-respected actress to global superstar (and one of the most lusted after women in the world). He'd seen her all made-up before but she'd taken it to another level tonight, her jet-black hair straightened and sleek, her make-up minimal and sophisticated and her silver dress tight and figure-hugging, showing off the curves that she was so proud of.
"Darling, you look amazing," he said to her once she'd finally made it over to them. They kissed each other on the cheek. "I hardly recognised you."
"Still as smooth as ever,"
she said to him, before flinging her arms around Arun and kissing him on the cheek too. She took a step back and admired them. "You both look impossibly handsome."
"Thank you," said Arun. "You look stunning and sparkly."
"You're too kind," said Amelia. "And also correct."
"Like a million dollars," said Cody.
She flung her hand to her throat, resting it on the diamonds that encircled her neck. She lowered her voice. "Five million, actually. They're on loan, so don't let me lose them. If I do, I'm fucked, and not in the good way."
"You haven't changed at all," said Cody, his laugh booming. He sighed. "It's been too long."
"I agree," said Amelia. "Hopefully, tonight will be just as exciting and unexpected as the last time we saw each other."
In a brightly-lit television studio, at an ungodly hour of the morning, Cody and Amelia sat side by side on stylish-yet-functional metal chairs, waiting for the weatherman to finish his forecast (rain and lots of it) so that they could be interviewed for one last time. Opposite them, in a bright blue blouse and short black skirt, sat a woman whose name Cody was desperately trying to remember. As she was going to be the one to interview them, it was likely that her name would be needed, but Cody had gotten to sleep rather late last night and hadn't quite had the necessary amount of time needed to get all his senses into gear.
To their left, behind the cameras, a bald man, with a haggard expression, flung his fingers in the air and counted them down. Cody shuffled in his seat. Amelia crossed her legs away from the camera. A smile popped onto the woman's face.
She launched into her opening spiel, reminding the viewers of what they were watching and in which city it was (in case they'd somehow forgotten), adding, with a cheeriness that didn't seem appropriate, that it was just after half past seven in the morning. In amongst all this, there was no mention of her name.
"I'm joined today," she said, still frothing with effervescence, "by the two stars of the thriller that's taking Hollywood by storm, The Snow's Fire. Cody Hiller and Amelia Ferreres, welcome to the show."
The Movie Star's Secret Page 11