Chapter 12 #3
‘What do you mean, this time?’ I ask, confused.
‘Just that she has a bit of a habit of terrorising people on-set. Go on,’ he says.
‘Oh,’ I say, letting out a breath. Almost wanting to laugh now. But there’s a tiny part of me that doesn’t find it funny – at all. ‘Well, she effectively said that I’m talentless and will never make it, and might as well give up now.’
He barks out a laugh, and I look at him, shocked.
‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘It’s just – obviously you know that’s ridiculous, right?’
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘But also no.’ And I feel so small in the moment, needing his reassurance.
‘Lara,’ he says, leaning forwards with a serious and kind expression.
‘That woman once told me her pet corgi had more charisma than I was demonstrating in a scene with her.’ I let out a bit of a laugh at this and he takes a step towards me.
‘And trust me, that was even worse an insult than you think – I’ve met the dog.
He’s horrible.’ I laugh at his joke and his face lights up. A brief silence falls.
‘I’ve got a poster of her up in my childhood bedroom,’ I say to fill it, closing my eyes at the thought of it. When she was about my age. The film that launched her career.
‘Take that shit down,’ he says, his tone firm. ‘Or don’t. But either way, what she said wasn’t about you. If I let in half the stuff people said about me it would destroy me completely. It almost did, actually.’ His face darkens a little and I want to ask about it, but he speaks before I can.
‘Look,’ he says, leaning in. ‘She’s a tough old girl who’s spent her whole life having to prove her worth in an industry that didn’t want her to succeed.
If you want my professional opinion, I think she sees young actors at the beginning of their career, feels jealous of the attention they’re getting over her and puts them down to compensate for the fear that one day she’ll become irrelevant. ’
‘Wow,’ I say, after a few seconds. ‘Quite harsh, but very insightful. Thank you.’
‘I have my moments,’ he says. And then his expression changes, becoming more serious.
‘And for what it’s worth,’ he says, taking a step towards me. Crouching down. Placing his hand gently on my arm. ‘Lara, I think you’re really talented.’
‘Thank you,’ I say quietly.
I find myself suddenly more aware of his proximity.
The feeling I had earlier, after we kissed, surging up again.
Of the years we were apart collapsing into one another.
Until it’s just us, again. Back in that pub.
At the Christmas party where he kissed me.
Right before he left, again, disappearing for ever.
He has a girlfriend, I think to myself. Chastising myself for the thought. The emotions I can’t seem to get away from. But the way he’s looking at me, right now, is kicking them into full throttle.
‘Do you want to maybe get a drink, instead of running lines?’ he asks. And I let out a breath, the words coming to my lips before I can stop them.
‘Sure,’ I reply.
‘Okay,’ he says. ‘Let me just get out of costume and I’ll meet you in five?’
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
We meet outside Avi’s trailer about ten minutes later and he calls his driver to pick us up.
I watch as we wind down a few side streets, my heart in my throat.
What am I doing? I think to myself as the car journey goes on.
Trying to convince myself that the decision to get drinks with him wasn’t incredibly stupid, given my current state – that this is fine.
Even while the knot in my stomach tells me it’s not.
That I should get out of this car right now.
‘We’re here,’ Avi says, and I get out of the car and follow him to the entrance of a bar – a doorway, with some steps downwards. It looks… dodgy, to say the least.
‘Have you brought me here to kill me?’ I ask, making an attempt at humour to mask my anxiety. He laughs.
‘No,’ he says. ‘Unless you have an allergy to dive bars. In which case, we should probably go somewhere else.’
I’m not sure what I was expecting – some fancy rooftop bar, perhaps.
But as we walk down the steps, I realise how far off my expectations were.
This place looks old, in a sort of crusty well-lived-in way.
I get the sense that if I touched the wall my hand might stick to it.
There are beer mats stuck along the wall behind the bar, and a man with a huge beard who could be anywhere from his thirties to his sixties standing behind it.
He greets Avi as if they know each other and slides two beers across the table, along with some tokens.
‘What is this place?’ I ask, but Avi just hands me the beer and gestures for me to follow him to the other side of the room. There are a few pool tables in the corner. A couple of people playing at the one next to us, who barely look up as we approach.
‘This is where I come to hide out when I’m in London,’ he says, putting a token in the table. Handing me a cue. ‘When I want to feel normal for a few hours. Everyone in this bar is here for two reasons and two reasons only: beer and pool. Nothing else registers.’
‘That’s nice,’ I say uselessly, taking hold of the cue.
I imagine there aren’t many places Avi can go to where he doesn’t get recognised.
I wonder what that must be like, feeling exposed wherever you go.
Kind of like being on-set, I suppose, but followed by fans and paparazzi rather than runners.
A life, observed. It must be lonely, I think, suddenly.
I watch as he sets up the table, placing the triangle in the middle.
‘Do you want to break?’ he asks, rolling up his shirtsleeves.
His forearms flexing as he does. Fuck, I think, at the flash of heat in my chest at the sight.
I shake my head to hide my reaction and he breaks first. But that was a mistake.
Because the way he looks playing pool – with masterful, smooth strokes that allow him to pot three balls in a row – does things to me that it shouldn’t.
‘So… how’s Sienna’s Paris trip going?’ I say, to remind myself both of her existence and the fact that I am a horrible person for having these feelings about her boyfriend.
He looks up at me, as if he’s confused by the question.
But then seems to remember himself. ‘Uh, good. I think she’s at a modelling gig right now.
’ His dismissive tone gives me pause and I frown momentarily.
But then he clears his throat awkwardly and starts speaking again.
‘You know, about her… There’s something I need to—’
‘It’s okay,’ I say quickly. Because I can’t risk hearing him telling me it was a mistake for the second time.
‘It was my fault, the other night. And it didn’t mean anything.
I mean, nothing happened, right? It was nothing.
I just got caught up in the moment and…’ I trail off, embarrassment and shame coursing through me.
He nods slowly, an expression passing across his face that makes my heart jump. Because it looks almost like disappointment. But that wouldn’t make any sense at all.
‘Say no more,’ he says. ‘Your play.’
We exchange shots for a few minutes, the tension rising as we do. Like something has suddenly shifted in the air between us. And it’s setting me on edge, so much so that my hand slips off the cue as I’m playing my next shot.
‘May I?’ Avi asks, coming up behind me. Placing his hand gently on my elbow.
His fingers brushing across my skin in a way that drives me insane.
That feels like a drug in this moment. I nod slowly.
He leans over me, helping to steady my hand.
To aim the cue. Our bodies pressed up against each other.
His breath tickling the side of my ear. I inhale, struggling to remember where I am – what I’m even doing.
‘That’s great,’ he says. ‘And now…’ And he gently, slowly, helps me pull my arm back, releasing the cue.
The cue ball shoots off clear, sending the target into the pocket.
And I wait for him to move. But he doesn’t, not right away.
His hand still on my elbow. The heat of his body against mine sending me insane.
I close my eyes and breathe into it for a moment, and find myself imagining a million other things we could be doing right now.
That involve fewer clothes, and my hotel room.
Oh, my God. I need to get out of here.
‘Lara—’ he says. And I don’t know what he’s about to say. But I do know that I need to leave.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say, stepping back. ‘I shouldn’t have come tonight. I’m not feeling well. I…’ I grab my coat from the hook where I left it and start to make my way towards the door.
‘Did I say something wrong?’ Avi asks and I shake my head. ‘If it’s about Sienna, Lara, I can explain—’
‘No,’ I say, my throat tightening. ‘It’s nothing like that. You’re great. She’s great. I’m just… I need to go home. Get an early night, ready for tomorrow. I’ll see you on-set, okay?’
He nods, his shoulders slumping a little. ‘Okay,’ he replies. And I practically run up the steps into the fresh air outside.
Oh, fuck, I think. I’m in trouble.