Chapter 7
Sebastian
The Table Read
“I woke to my phone going crazy. Groaning, I rolled over and put my hands over my eyes. My phone continued to ring, so I swung my arm over and felt around for it. Finding it on my bed, I dragged it to my face and squinted at the screen. Anderson.
Fuck. The table read.
“Hello,” I groaned.
“Get the fuck over to the lot, you dick,” Anderson hissed.
I sat up and stretched, then dragged myself to the mirror on the wall.
Staring, I couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed at my appearance; I looked like a fucking goof, dressed in a suit for a girl who wasn’t even interested.
So uninterested she sent someone else on a date with me.
Nothing about last night went how I’d hoped.
“Where the fuck are you? You were supposed to be here half an hour ago,” Anderson yelled.
“I stayed at a hotel last night. Let me shower, and I’ll be there.
” I hung up before he could ask more questions.
Then I texted him to send over some clothes, along with my room number, and stripped to shower.
I took my time under the hot water. I needed to sober up fast if I was going to see Evie again today.
My Final Girl.
By the time I was clean and headache-free, my clothes had arrived. Jeans, a black tee, and my leather jacket. Anderson had sent someone to my house. I laced up my boots and left the hotel room. Anderson was in the lobby, scowling. He handed me a blueberry Red Bull.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded. “Are you already fucking your co-star?”
“Quite the opposite,” I muttered. “Let’s go.”
I downed the energy drink as we got into the car and let Anderson rant about how I made everyone wait at the table read.
After Evie’s embarrassing rejection, I’d returned to the bar solo, where I’d had a drink too many.
Still hopeful that maybe she’d come down and pity me with conversation, I stayed far into the night and ended up giving the bartender my credit card to get me a room at the hotel. It was just a tad pathetic.
“People are going to think you’re difficult to work with, Sebastian.”
“Who are people?” I rolled my eyes. “I’m the fucking star of this franchise.”
“No one is untouchable. Look at what happened to Lita Reyes. If they’re done with you, you’ll know it.”
My head snapped from the window.
“What the fuck did you just say?”
Anderson shrank into his seat. “I—you know, people talk. It’s just rumors. Sorry.”
“Put some respect on that name.” I thrust my empty can at him, shaking my head. “After that comment, you should be more worried about your job than mine.”
“Yes, Sebastian. I apologize. I know you were close to her.”
“She was like a second mom to me.”
I looked back out the window as we passed through the studio gates.
Rumors, hardly. Lita Reyes didn’t kill herself.
Anyone who was anyone in this fucking town knew her death was murder.
Minutes later, we were in the building and heading to the table read, where everyone was waiting for me.
I took a large breath and pushed the door open.
Everyone looked up and gave sarcastic cheers and claps.
I smirked and flipped them off. “Sorry, guys. I had a rough night with Jack Daniels.”
Dante came over and smacked my back. “Happens to the best of us. Take your seat, and we’ll get started.”
I scanned the room, waving apologetically at Anderson and the others.
There were two tables set up. The main table was filled with the cast, writers, and director.
The second was the producer’s table. The main table was long and arranged for us all to face each other.
Off to the side was a smaller one. Chairs were all on one side, allowing everyone sitting to face us.
They would be studying us, making decisions we wouldn’t even know about until later.
Everyone was where they were supposed to be, except for one person. I took my seat and pointed.
“What are you doing over here, producer?” I asked Glenn, spitting the title like a curse.
He turned from where he was flirting with Evie. All the chatter in the room stopped.
“Me? Waiting for the star to show.” He snickered and stood, putting his hand on Evie’s shoulder and staring me down. “I’ll text you later.”
“Everyone have both versions of the script?” Dante asked.
I looked down at my spot on the table and picked up both scripts. I hadn’t read the updated one yet.
Dante continued, “Let’s start with the first version, in which Riley, played by Skye, is the Final Girl.”
Skye squealed beside Evie, bouncing up and down.
“Are we sure we need to bother reading that version?” I said, cutting through the chatter. Again, everyone stopped to look at me.
“What?” Dante asked from the head of the table.
“I want Evie to be the Final Girl. There’s no need to read both,” I said firmly but cool.
Everyone was watching Dante and me, gazes volleying between us. Who would win, director or lead actor?
Dante seemed to be thinking the same thing. “Be that as it may, I still want to read through each of them to see how they feel. So do the producers and the studio executives.”
I bit my tongue. I wanted to tell him this was all a waste of time.
Evie was going to be the lead, no matter what it took.
Anderson cleared his throat and came from behind to offer me another energy drink.
He elbowed me as he did so, reminding me that I had a job to do, and that job was to shut up and listen to my director.
I clenched my fists under the table. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed the top script and opened it to begin the read.
It was a pretty basic slasher. My character had been through hell and back in the first five movies.
In this version, Riley, Skye’s character, was my girlfriend, and Lucy, Evie’s character, was a siren of sorts, luring me to cheat on her.
In between all the body count padding, Riley sets up a dinner and confronts me.
We have sex, and right in the middle of it, Lucy comes in and tries to hack Riley to pieces, revealing herself as Simon Says’s daughter.
Riley escapes, which leads to the epic final battle between Lucy and me.
I chop off her head and walk away from an explosion, smoking a cigarette and calling Riley to ask her to move in with me.
Overall, the first updated script wasn’t bad.
The girlfriend wasn’t even a named character in the original version I’d read a few months ago.
She’d only had a brief moment in the beginning.
This script gave my character depth and would give Skye potential to come back for another movie, but overall, I was bored and found it uninteresting.
There was a break between scripts, and before I stepped out to have a cigarette with the others, I paused on the other side of the table to speak to Evie.
“I think my mask of sanity is about to slip,” I quoted American Psycho, asking her to speak to me privately.
She stared up at me, her jaw ticking, as if she were going to speak. Before she could, Glenn came over and stole her attention, sliding smoothly between us. She completely turned her attention to him, and getting the hint, I stormed off to smoke.
Returning to the table, we opened the second script. The beginning was overall the same. I began to zone out until I noticed Evie on her phone, causing me to perk up. I glanced to see if anyone was paying attention. A moment later, my phone vibrated.
So, she did still have my number.
Unknown: Sometimes dead is better.
I quickly saved the contact as Final Girl, noting that it was a new number from the one I’d had before.
I looked down at the script to make sure I was in the right place, then considered the text.
She was telling me she didn’t want to revisit our old relationship.
I stared at the phone, forgetting my script.
If she didn’t have feelings for me, then why was she still using our code?
I shot back a text, quoting Scream.
Me: Not in my movie.
She snickered as she read, then focused on the table read, driving me bonkers. I tapped my foot under the table, trying to pay attention to my lines. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her raise her phone, and my gaze shot to her.
Final Girl: The power of Christ compels you.
She wanted me to leave her alone. She texted me first! My mouth fell open, but I snapped it shut quickly as Dante cleared his throat and glared at me for having my phone out.
I shoved it back into my jacket and got back into the script.
In this version, I meet Lucy and fall for her.
Riley comes in and tries to get me to leave Lucy for her.
Lucy gets attacked by Simon Says, and when I find her safe, we have sex.
Riley comes in afterward, revealing she’s Simon Says’s sidekick, and detains me—naked.
Then the girls have the epic last fight.
Lucy wins, saves me, and we run off together, escaping the villain once again.
During the slow parts, I tried to think of a comeback. I wracked my brain. Dozens of quotes came to mind, but everything felt too creepy. I typed a line from The Bride of Frankenstein and hesitated.
Me: I’ll make sure we’re together forever.
What was I doing? Was this flirting, or could that be interpreted as a threat?
All these things ran through my mind while I tried to stay focused.
This was part of my job, and I was being incredibly unprofessional.
On any other project, where I wasn’t tied to the entire franchise, playing on my phone in the middle of a table read could get me sacked.
It was then I realized she’d done this on purpose.
She wanted me to not give this version of the script a good read so that the producers would see me as unenthused and choose the version with Skye as the main lead.
I stared at her, unblinking. She sat across from me, smiling like a cat having just ate its mouse.
“Sebastian?” Dante called.
I tore my eyes away from Evie. “Huh? Oh, sorry.” I read my lines and fumed silently as we ran through a few more pages until I didn’t have any lines. I deleted my creepy message and typed a new one, ditching the movie lines.
Me: He’s no good. Drop him.
Final Girl: Why? Because he’s not you?
Me: Yes, but also because he’s a bad guy.
Final Girl: I like bad boys.
“Sebastian!” Dante snapped.
“Sorry, one second,” I said.
“If you don’t put that phone away, I don’t care what you want. We’re going with the script I pick.”
I bit down hard on my lip. Inhaling deeply, steadying my rage caused by the woman across from me, I handed my phone to Anderson, who’d stepped forward to take it. Evie cackled and sat back, crossing her arms. Did no one notice her phone being out?
We took a short break, and I bee-lined for my agent, snatching my phone back. Heading outside, I checked my notifications and found a text from her.
Final Girl: Flexing your muscles isn’t going to win me over. I’m not interested.
Me: That look you gave me last night when I unbuttoned my shirt says otherwise.
I looked around but didn’t see her anywhere.
Final Girl: You really think you’re hot shit now, don’t you? When did you become so damn cocky?
Me: Five years ago, the same night I made you come.
I shoved my phone into my pocket and stormed back inside.
Irritation seeped into me as I walked back into the room.
Evie stood by her chair, staring at her phone.
The shocked look on her face told me she was reading my last message.
She looked up and typed something quickly.
Then, just as everyone was sitting down, my phone vibrated.
Final Girl: You didn’t.
My mind went blank as I stared at her. She grinned, knowing she’d finally pissed me off. My breathing grew heavy as I tried to rein in my anger, but her relaxing deeper into her chair like a satisfied cat tipped me over the edge. Caught up in the moment, I leaped back up and pointed at her.
“You liar!” I shouted.
The room froze, and I realized what I’d just done. Slowly, I lowered myself back into my seat.
“I—apologize. That won’t happen again.”
Silence filled the room, and heat flooded my face as I lowered my gaze to my script and kept it there until Dante stopped seething and called for us to resume.
For the rest of the table read, I was on my best behavior.
When it was over and people stood to go, I rushed to Dante and profusely apologized for my unprofessionalism.
He sighed deeply and rubbed his jaw.
“Don’t fuck this up for me, Seb. That’s all I have to say.” With tired eyes, he gave me a tight smile and patted me hard on the back as he went to the producer’s table to defend casting me. I’d seen this before. I was on thin ice.
Anderson caught my attention and motioned for me to leave so he could do damage control. With my head hung, I exited the room.
Going outside, I was surprised to find Evie the only one lingering by the doors. Rolling my eyes, I pulled a cigarette from the case in my pocket and lit up. Taking a long drag of nicotine, I turned to her.
“You’re a liar. I know you came.”
She had her back toward me, arms clutched to her chest. “Did I? Maybe I was a good actor, even then.”
“Well then, you’re gonna be one hell of a star in this movie.”
She turned and shook her head. “No, I don’t think I will. They’re going with the first script. I’m not your Final Girl.”
We stared each other down until the doors behind me opened and Glenn came out.
“Ready? I’m starving.” He went to her, beaming as her face lit up. With a quick smirk my way, he put his hand on the small of her back, and together, they started away.
Rage and jealousy began to creep back into my veins as I watched them laughing as they walked.
I wanted to storm over, spin the asshole around, and knock his teeth in, but Anderson joined me outside, and I was forced to listen to him talk about professionalism and how they still want me on the movie.
My entire body shook with fury as I tried to stay focused, but all I could think about was Glenn and Evie.
I needed to get the fuck out before I punched something.
“Where’s Dante?” I asked as the rest of the producers exited, nodding to us as they left.
“Must still be in there—Hey!” Anderson called to me as I stormed back inside.
Fists clenched, vision red, I went back to the room and slammed my hands down on the table where only Dante sat. He jumped as I glared at him, seething.
“Evie’s the Final Girl, or I walk.”