13. Chapter 13
Chapter 13
Meeting the studio executives cements for me that this is my life now. No longer just a stylist working a job on a movie set, I’m now an actress, who people are relying on to perform. What have I done?
Alongside learning lines, I spend time with Errol. Our combative personalities cause us to chafe at some points, but we are both trying so hard that it doesn’t ever result in any of our typical fights.
Determined to work with me one-on-one, he’s had me running lines with him for the past three days since our meetup.
Today I have to meet with him again, after visiting Mira to go over the changes in the clothes. This will be the first time we’re seeing each other since that night at the restaurant. I don’t know if Errol has spoken with her, but this is finally my chance.
Never one to back down from a fight, I’m ready for this confrontation. I strut into the room, my hands already finding a home on my waist.
“Mira.”
She swivels in her chair to face me, her eyes slowly trailing up to meet mine. The frown pulling at her lips forces her cheeks to sag.
“Well, haven’t the tables turned? Usually you’re doing the fittings, and now you’re the one getting fitted.” The bitter tone of her voice matches her scowl.
“Is that all you have to say to me?”
“Were you expecting a congratulations?” Getting up, she points for me to move to the middle of the room and grabs her measuring tape.
“No, I was expecting you to say sorry, actually.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” She turns away from me, crossing her arms.
“So you don’t remember telling Errol that I called for the lingerie to be changed? Or that I made clothes that you worked on? You don’t know about any of that?” I’m trying not to ruin my makeup, but the urge to wipe away the frustration on my face has me clenching my hands.
“We don’t have time for this. I need to get your measurements.”
So this is how she wants to play it. No way am I letting her ignore everything that’s happened.
“Oh, we can make time for this. You need to own up to your actions.” I move in front of her, forcing her to look at me.
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Farrah.”
“I want you to say sorry, or at least explain why you did it.” Every moment of our seven-year long friendship is playing in my mind, trying to pull focus from my anger.
“No.” She looks into my eyes, an unjust defiance shining in her own.
“No?”
“I am not having this fight at work, it’s unprofessional.”
“Well, I’m not going to wait forever for closure. I’m sick of people not being able to communicate properly. We are meeting up tonight.”
“I can’t. We are now short staffed and have a whole new wardrobe to make for you. We will be working long days for the next few weeks.”
“Sorry, but I’m not waiting that long. If not tonight, then tomorrow.”
She shifts from foot to foot, before nodding once. Ending it there, she moves racks of clothes meant for Fiona closer to the center of the room.
We pass the rest of the time in silence. Once finished, she dismisses me with a wave and a quick word. With nothing else to say, I turn and make my way towards the set to meet up with Errol.
He’s talking on the phone when I approach. A nod of his head is the only acknowledgement he gives me while he finishes up the call. When he hangs up, he turns to me and offers that smile that makes me feel like he is so happy to see me. It inspires my own, letting him know I feel the same.
“Before we head to my place to run lines, I have to check in with Priyanka.” She is the production manager, the one in charge of making sure this whole thing runs smoothly. I follow behind him as we make our way over to the front of the studio. Standing by the entrance, she is talking to one of her assistants.
“What’s up?” She says, turning to us, while waving for her assistant to walk off.
She then looks down at her phone.
“I want to check in about the schedule. Jeff just called me and confirmed Farrah, but I want to see if we can push by a day or two to give her time to learn lines,” Errol says.
This catches her full attention. She lifts her head to look into his eyes.
“You want to push the entire schedule? Are you crazy?”
I feel like the subject of the conversation shouldn’t be standing here, so I take a step back. As if sensing my retreat, he pulls me forward, drawing her to look at me.
“She just agreed to the role four days ago. We are set to start filming next Tuesday, which gives her only eight days total to learn the whole script.” While he puts the timeline in perspective for her, he is also shifting the panic inside of me. Four more days, and then I’m supposed to be on camera. Holy crap.
“I can’t do it. I’m sorry,” she says, meeting my gaze. I can see that she means it. “I am sorry Farrah, but the turnaround time for this film is already long.”
Willing to take her apology and let it drop, it’s clear Errol has different plans.
“So we push forward, we make her do it unprepared, and the schedule gets shifted with constant reshoots? That is worse for the budget, and you know it.”
His hand is still on my arm, and he brings me even closer, like the distance is causing her to miss the panic clear on my face. I try to stop the unsettling feelings that rise up from his touch by focusing on the fear lacing my body.
“Tell her Farrah, you aren’t ready.”
Hating that I agree with him on anything, I can’t help but speak my truth.
“I’m not ready.”
Priyanka rolls her eyes and takes in a deep breath.
“Fine. Best I can do is have the scenes rearranged. We will start shooting scenes with her a few days after we start with everyone else. That work?”
He leans forward and pats her arm, confirming it does. Finally letting me go, they hug before she walks away. We agree to meet up at his place again, and I take off to my car.
As I pull up to his home, I finally gain control of my senses enough to calm myself. After talking myself up for a few more minutes, I make my way to his front door. He opens it before I get to the steps and waves for me to come in.
Having been to his house a few times now, comfort allows me to ease onto the couch.
We fall into the routine we’ve created for the past few days of dissecting lines as we read them. When we get to the end of the script, I throw my head back on the couch.
“This is insanity.” I close my eyes while my thumbs work circles beside them. I can feel a pressure headache coming on, and the thoughts bubbling up in my mind aren’t helping.
“I know I say this every day, but you’ve got this.” He scoots closer to me and lays a hand on my shoulder. The tingle that accompanies his touch moves into my stomach.
My feet land solidly on the ground as I shoot up from the couch, freeing myself from his touch. No more of that . Making myself at home, I go to his kitchen and get myself a glass of water. He follows, not remarking on this fact, and watches me open his cupboard.
“So what is the movie really about? We’ve broken down the characters and the words, but we haven’t discussed the theme.” I look to him for the answer. Water pouring into the cup is the only sound between us, while he thinks this over.
“It’s about generational trauma, how our parents can directly affect how we navigate through this world, especially when it comes to dating.”
My mind goes right to Christian. With an emotionally abusive father and distant mother, he never knew what healthy love felt like. All he knew growing up was the toxic rhetoric that emotions aren’t for men. Did he have the chance to succeed in our relationship without causing so much hurt? I wash down the sudden urge to cry with a large sip.
“So Dante breaks up with Fiona because of his unresolved issues with his father? But when he goes to see him, he gets the closure he needs to try again with her?” I ask.
What was it that Christian needed? I thought as his friend I knew. He just needed someone to finally believe he was worth it. Worth their whole heart and effort. I thought time and gentleness would ease the tension on his shoulders and get him to finally reveal the wounds he carries in his chest. Yet every time I reached for him, he pushed me away. That’s why we had fought before he left.
“Yes. During the conversation with his father, his dad’s excuses for how he raised him trigger Dante. He starts to see the way his father’s need for control resulted in him needing to constantly feel free. That urge prevented him from being in a healthy relationship,” Errol concludes.
I take another sip, but the water builds in my mouth as my throat closes, preventing it from going down. I breathe in through my nose to try and ease the tension. When the liquid finally clears my airways, I speak.
“Well, I can see how layered this idea is in the story. It will make for an interesting romance.”
“Every romance is interesting, if you look beyond the kissing. Everyone has a past that determines how they operate in a relationship.”
I can’t help but wonder what he carries into his dating life from his past. Before I can get the nerve to ask, his lips turn the page on the conversation as they lift up.
“Are you excited for the party on Saturday?”
“I’m excited to dress up.”
I must look worried, because he steps closer.
“Don’t worry, you’ll do fine.”
I nod, unable to voice all my concerns.
Seemingly satisfied, he heads back to the couch. We go through the lines one more time before the sky dresses itself in its darkest colors. My mind never fully leaves the talk we had. So even as I drive home, I still think about all the ways we let our futures be determined by our past.
I can’t see myself having much of a future at this point, so I don’t linger on how mine may be affected. Instead, I think about Errol. Who hurt him and what caused him to be the player he is today? What would it take for him to open himself up? Has he ever? I don’t think I’ll ever get the answers to these questions, but my mind can’t help asking.