Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 116999 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 585(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116999 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 585(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
I hang back for a moment, wait till he and the DP have finished their discussion, and then casually make my approach, because clearly, he’s not going to make it first. “Hey. How’s it going? William, right?” I remember his name precisely. I remember a lot about him. More than I should. I’m unsure why he stands out amongst the thousands of people I meet every year, but it seems my mind has taken a liking to him. He was easy company in the bar. Easy to talk to, easy to like. There’s something…innocent about him. Perhaps naïve is a better word. I’m used to friends of Andy’s trying to impress me. They always try to one-up each other, namedropping celebrities or clients they’ve worked with. William Walker, however, appeared to have no idea what he was doing at that table and, bizarrely, I couldn’t help feeling like I needed to impress him if I was to keep him sitting there.
I enjoyed that about him.
Startled, William jumps back a step. He seems flustered, and I can’t decide if it’s the SFX or me. Either way, can’t say I don’t like it. “Dinnae worry. It’s not real,” I say, nodding towards the blood on my arm.
A small grin dances on his lips. “Yeah. I understand the concept of acting.”
Sarcasm? That’s new, and only continues to intrigue me. Usually, when someone outside the industry comes face-to-face with me it’ll go one of two ways. They’ll talk incessantly, ask relentless questions about every single aspect of my famous existence…or their cheeks will spontaneously combust and they’ll avoid eye contact as if their life depends on it.
At dinner, William Walker did neither.
William Walker stared.
Not in a creepy way. More...curious. But not in the way I’m used to. He didn’t ask a single question about who I’ve worked with, who my friends are, how much money I’ve got or how many cars I own. He didn’t appear fazed or, indeed, curious about my public face, the features people are already familiar with. It made me wonder what stories Andy’s been telling him, and if that’s why he seemed eager to get away from me at times.
Apparently, my ego is intent on changing his mind about me because I stared right back, just like I’m doing now.
“Enjoying the job?” I ask. Smalltalk. That seems like a safe and perfectly natural way forward.
“Absolutely. Been a lot busier than I expected, but that’s one of the things I’m enjoying.” Running a hand through his dark hair, he blows out a puff of air. We’re close enough that it fans my face, exciting me in a way it probably shouldn’t. “Won’t be sad to hit that pillow tonight, though.”
“Right, aye. I won’t keep you any longer. Maybe we’ll run into each other tomorrow? I’ll bring your jacket.”
He shakes his head, just once. “I’m heading home in the morning. Just for a night. See the family.”
Of course. Wife. Kids. Probably got a dog and two rabbits.
I hide the irrational disappointment behind a smile. I’m an actor. This shit’s a breeze for me. “Well, enjoy, my friend.” I start walking away before he does. Playing it cool, as they say. Raising my hand, I call one last time over my shoulder, “Tell the family Laurie Cole says hello!”
The place is like a ghost town once I’m out of the studios, through the production suites and back to the dressing rooms. Most of the crew have left for the night. A few sparks and set dressers linger, preparing for the morning. I was hoping to catch Anya, have her take a look at my eye, but I end up cleaning it up myself with some bottled water and cotton pads and hoping for the best.
My best isn’t looking great when my driver comments, “I thought the fights were supposed to be fake,” during the journey back to my hotel.
Shuffling, I angle my head to get a better glance in his rear-view mirror. “Shit.” The swelling is evident in the small mirror from the back seat, even in the dark. I’m going to need the on-set medic to take a look at it in the morning. “Make-up’s gonna have their work cut out tomorrow.”
The hotel isn’t far. We pull into the level of the underground car park that’s only accessible to executive guests, and a part of me wishes I could just sleep right here on the back seat. “Ugh…” My head falls back on the leather. “What a day,” I add, dragging my palms down my face, stretching the skin. I need to move before my limbs grow any heavier. “Thanks, Silvio.” I make eye contact with my driver in the mirror, nodding in appreciation as I open the car door.
Big mistake.
The very second Silvio’s gaze catches mine, I know I won’t be sleeping anytime soon. I recognise the glint in those deep brown orbs immediately. I know why the tanned skin around them has narrowed. I imagine Silvio also understands the slight twist of my lips before I look down and get out of the car and walk away, waiting for him to follow.