Chapter 32 Luke
LUKE
The Zoom call started exactly as I should have expected: chaotic and slightly unhinged.
The director’s face popped onto the screen, his hair wild like he’d been electrocuted, a cigarette dangling from his lips even though he wasn’t smoking it.
“Luke Fisher, Hollywood’s golden boy.” He waved a spatula for some reason.
“You gonna phone this in, or are you finally ready to act like someone who's seen the inside of a Walmart?”
I blinked. “Good to see you too, Gerald.”
Gerald Fargo, the most eccentric man in Hollywood and proud of it, leaned closer to the camera, inspecting me like he was trying to find a flaw. “You look too polished. We need grit. Show me the pain. Show me a man who’s been kicked in the nether regions by life and still manages to stand upright.”
“Do you want me to act or fight a bear?” I deadpanned, unable to resist.
He grinned. “Same thing.”
As weird as the guy was, and he was absolutely the kind of person who’d eat spaghetti for breakfast to make a point, I could tell he liked me.
His questions were like those weird riddles a troll asks you before letting you cross a bridge.
And for once, I felt ready. I'd spent enough time away from the Hollywood bubble to realize most of it was held together with Botox and delusion.
I deserved this role. I could bring something real to it.
The audition went well, I was sure of it, and our conversation afterwards was easy until Anna walked through the background, holding a mug in her hand. She froze mid-step, her eyes widening as she realized she was in the shot. Gerald’s eagle eye zeroed in on her instantly.
“Who’s that?” he barked, waving his spatula like a weapon. “Is she part of your method?”
Anna’s face went bright red. “I’m so sorry,” she blurted, holding the mug up like a shield. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I didn’t know you were still on a call.”
“Relax, sweetheart,” Gerald said, squinting at her through the screen. “You’re his muse, aren’t you?”
“No, no,” she stammered, backing out of the frame. “I’m just… I was getting coffee.” She disappeared so fast that she almost left a puff of smoke behind.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying not to laugh, but unsure how I should describe Anna to the director. “She’s my… She’s—”
“Not important,” he interrupted, pointing the spatula at me.
“What is important is that you’ve got the look of a man who’s been inspired.
That’s what I need for this role: love, pain, misery.
And also redemption. You can do that, right?
” Before I could respond, he slapped his spatula on his desk and said, “You’ll hear from me soon. Don’t make me regret this.”
The screen went black, and I leaned back in my chair, exhaling deeply. As bizarre as it had been, I had a good feeling.
Anna peeked her head back into the room, her cheeks still flushed. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I said, biting back a grin. “Honestly, I think you just sealed the deal for me. He liked you.”
“So, am I your muse?”
I tilted my head, smiling as I looked up at her.
“You’re more than that.” I reached for her hand, my fingers brushing hers as I gently pulled her closer.
She leaned down, her gaze steady but her breath hitching just enough for me to notice.
When our lips met, it wasn’t the first time, but it still felt new.
Every kiss with her was like that. Each one left me feeling like the ground had shifted beneath me, like I was standing on something more solid and yet more thrilling than ever before.
Her lips were warm and soft, a perfect match to the electricity buzzing between us. When she pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, and her smile was just shy enough to make my heart ache.
“Well,” she murmured, her voice low but playful. “Guess I really am inspiring.”
I laughed, resting my hand on the arm of the chair, unable to look away from her. “You don’t even know the half of it.”
She stepped back, her fingertips brushing lightly against mine. I sank into the chair, the tension from the call beginning to ease. Gerald liked me. I could feel in my bones that I had the role.
And for the first time, I believed I could balance it all. My career. My love for acting. What I had with Anna.
I didn’t have to choose between the life I’d built and the one I wanted.
Maybe I could have both.