Between the Lines (WAWG Studios)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

ELODIE

“Can y’all believe I’m actually nervous ?” I asked the camera on my cellphone, as if there was someone there, capable of responding. My gaze flitted away from the lens, across the parking lot to the double-doors I’d be using in a few minutes to access WAWG studios for a table read.

The table read.

First day on a new project was always lowkey terrifying, but this one?

Damn.

“ Everybody on this cast is a heavy hitter. Everybody,” I repeated, thinking back to the list of names I knew better than to repeat aloud.

Yet.

Soon enough, the articles that didn’t seem like promotional materials—but definitely were—would start coming out, and the whole internet would begin their usual dissection process. Until then, keeping it vague was prudent.

“I’m not saying like…I don’t think I belong; I’m just saying…I’m grateful to be here, getting another opportunity to do what I love—on a show that’s not my brother’s,” I added in a dry tone, scowling at the camera.

Might edit that out.

Being controversial wasn’t the point of these vlogs.

“Anyway, I gotta get in here, and for obvious reasons, no filming allowed,” I said, poking out my bottom lip in a faux pout. “Next time you see me, I’ll be heading home, and I’ll be ready to spill any and all disclosable tea. Bye, bitches.”

After my customary sign-off, I stopped recording and dropped the phone into my lap, blowing out a long, cleansing breath. I knew the kind of comments to expect, implying that the anxiousness—and any other feeling I expressed in my personal vlogs—was nothing more than acting, an attempt to manipulate emotion from the viewers.

But…the same sect, or an adjacent one at least, also swore I was terrible at acting.

So which thing was it?

I had to heave another sigh after that, forcing a switch in my mental gears.

The anxiety I felt about walking into this building for the first table read was absolutely real, despite me no longer being able to claim I was a “rookie” actor. Since the breakout success of One Day Sober, I’d been consistently working, often with the same creative team.

Which…happened to include my big brother, in some capacity or another. This was going to be my first major project that didn’t involve him at all. Which, at twenty-five, with three years under my belt, shouldn’t have been a problem.

Shouldn’t.

I almost jumped out of my skin at the sudden buzzing of my phone in my lap. The steadiness of it told me it was a call, not a text, and when I turned it over to look at the screen, it was none other than Pierre Perry the Third himself.

“What do you want?” I asked, masking the relief I felt over him calling me with feigned annoyance. “You know I’m about to walk into work.”

“You look like you’re about to have a panic attack to me,” he chuckled into the phone, and my eyes shot up, glancing around the parking lot until my gaze landed on his G-Wagon in one of the VIP spots up front.

Perks of being a moneymaker for the studio.

“Stalker,” I replied, gathering my things and switching to earbuds so I could stow my phone in my bag as I finally got out of the car.

“Nobody stalking your ass.” He laughed. “I’m going to my office.”

“Wait until I’m inside.”

“What?”

“Wait until I’ve gone in,” I repeated. “I don’t want anybody thinking I needed you holding my hand on the first day of school.”

“Nobody would think that, El.”

“ Everybody would think that,” I countered, giving him a pointed look as I passed by his vehicle. My eyes went wide when he moved like he was opening his door. “ P! ” I hissed, rolling my eyes when he sat back, laughing.

I flipped him off then snatched the earbud out, tapping the side to end the call.

“ You’re annoying! ” I called, not knowing if he could even hear it as I breezed through the front doors of the massive WAWG building. My first stop was through security, and then it was up the elevator, which I prayerfully got to ride up alone.

A few last solitary moments to get my head together.

Before I walked into a room filled with actual stars.

Alec Everett.

Vanessa Kirkland.

Show written by Charlotte Fox.

And that was only a fraction of the notable names attached to this project—one with a huge budget and lots of studio support, which meant lots of pressure. For everybody.

My quiet moment to reflect ended as soon as the elevators doors opened.

The halls were lined with people—assistants, security, staff. There was a holding area just outside where the table read was happening, and it was clearly where everyone who was not an actor was gathered. The smell coming from the craft services’ breakfast buffet made my stomach twist in knots—not because it was bad, but because I was on the verge of actually having that panic attack Pierre had teased me about.

I got plenty of warm greetings from faces ranging from vaguely familiar to complete strangers as I navigated the room to get to where I needed to be. I had to get through one more armed security guard—a thorough, but professional pat-down and a reference of my name and face against something on his tablet screen.

And then I was in.

A markedly different vibe from what was happening outside—it was quiet in here, filled with way more plants than expected. The lights overhead were somewhat dimmed, with table-level lighting that was much brighter so everyone could see their scripts.

There were stationary cameras set up, and one camera operator with the oversized device propped on his shoulder, testing angles.

It wasn’t unusual for a table read to be recorded, but the aesthetic of it all meant this was being filmed and would more than likely be used as promotional material, winding up on social media.

Suddenly, my minimal makeup, athleisure, and high ponytail didn’t seem polished enough.

But I was here now, and there wasn’t much—meaning, nothing—I could do about my appearance.

“Elodie—glad you could join us,” I heard as I glanced around the room looking for my name to mark my place at the table, being careful not to make eye contact with anyone yet. I needed to gather my bearings before I could call on my deep well of “bad bitch” confidence.

I followed the sound of the voice to a very familiar face—Charlotte Fox, the creator of the show.

Had I already met her at the audition?

Yes.

Did that make me any less nervous to stand in front of her again?

Absolutely not.

Still, I smiled as she approached me with open arms, pulling me into a quick hug.

“Am I late?” I asked her in a low voice, resisting the urge to check my watch. As a general rule, I liked to arrive at everything fifteen or twenty minutes early, but that glad you could join us felt a lot like we were waiting on you.

“Huh? No,” she assured, shaking her head. “Everybody isn’t even here yet, but they should be in a few. We did have to do some scrambling with the cast, but we think it’ll be fine.”

“Scrambling?” I asked, eyes wide, and she nodded.

“Yeah—Daniel had a conflict, and Alec’s agent found out that role was open, so he asked to move there. Honestly,” she whispered, moving in, “I think Alec’s people invented a conflict for Daniel so he’d have to pull out and leave that role open, but who knows?—”

“Charlotte, you got a second before we start?”

That question came from someone I didn’t know, but pegged as a production assistant, who Charlotte immediately gave her attention, except…

Alec was supposed to be my costar.

Well, it sounded he’d still be my costar, but more specifically…he was supposed to be my love interest.

It was half the reason I was so nervous about the show.

Alec Everett was a veteran actor—he’d been a breakout star as a child, then made the unusual decision to take a break and go to college, where he’d excelled in athletics. That excellence had taken him into professional football, where he remained until an injury derailed that career, and he returned to what he called his “first love,” where he was welcomed with open arms.

Since then, he’d been in dozens of hit movies and shows, solidifying himself as a household name. He was incredibly talented and unfairly good-looking—a combination that made him a scene-stealer, which meant I’d have to pull out all the stops to avoid being overshadowed, to hold my own when we were both on screen.

That had been made abundantly clear in the chemistry read.

He’d been super pleasant, perfectly amiable, which was all—hell, more than— I could ask for from someone I’d be portraying intimacy with. And clearly the production theme thought I could handle it, or I wouldn’t have gotten the role.

I’d done really well, honestly, and I could give myself those props.

Alec though, was downright delightful.

His character, Silas, was pretty typical of the kind of stand-up guy Alec played often, with a twist of actual swag. He was the uncle of a troubled student in my class, who’d been tasked with caring for her in the wake of her parents’ death in the crossfire of gang activity that had nothing to do with them.

The circumstances were sad, but Silas was stepping up—a good guy, even with his hood streak. Alec had done the part justice in the little I’d seen, but I could see why he would want the role Daniel—another young Black powerhouse—had been cast for.

Jude was…less good.

Not exactly a villain , but definitely not a typical gentleman character. It would be a departure for Alec, and probably a good challenge for him.

But if he wasn’t going to be Silas anymore…who was?

I didn’t get to ask Charlotte about it before the production assistant whisked her away, and I had to just get in my spot and take a seat, once I realized I should be looking for my character name, not my own.

In my seat—next to the empty one for Silas—I dug in my bag for my phone, sending the same text to several people.

Do you know anything about last-minute changes to the cast?

Even though chances were I’d find out before any answers came through, I still had to ask. Nerves built in my chest as the rest of the cast trickled in—Alec sitting at the place marked for Jude, giving me a triumphant smile in greeting. Vanessa— freaking Vanity— breezing in to take the seat on my other side. Between me and Alec, because she would be portraying his love interest now.

“Elodie Perry—my favorite of the young baddies,” she greeted me with a hug. We’d met on multiple occasions now, but as a fan of her music, I was still in awe every time. Her chatter was just the distraction I needed from waiting to see who I’d be acting with. A quick inquiry to her let me know she didn’t know who was taking over the role—Alec didn’t either.

Right when I started to worry that the role hadn’t been recast yet at all, the door opened once more. I couldn’t even tell who’d walked in yet, but still…my heart leapt somewhere in my throat.

The low rumble of the voice.

The slow swagger through the shadows.

And then, still before I could see his face…the familiar brown skin.

I tried as hard as I could to swallow the sudden lump in my throat as he moved around the table, offering greetings to people as he came around.

To the empty space next to me.

“Hey, Ellie,” he said, and just like usual, that deep tenor hit me right in the panties.

He was the only person who called me that.

The only person who could call me that.

I forced a smile to my face, trying not to sound—or look—as flustered as I felt as I returned the greeting.

“Hey, Shaw.”