Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Over the next week, I spend my extra time writing scripts, jotting down interview questions, and filming spots for my new BellyLaughs podcast. I start posting quick little teaser videos.
The first one is a thirty-second video of Remi’s makeup brushes sitting on the tray she lays them out on.
I add the text, “Prepare…” over the film and let that one sit for a couple of days.
There are plenty of comments. Most of them are just a question mark, but some people ask things like, “Ari, is that you?” or “Is Ari finally coming back?”
Then I add a second video of the Keds I often wear for my character, propped up next to a megaphone that I borrowed from one of the millions of assistants. Over this short video, I add the text, “…to be…”
The comments flood in on the second post. Some fans post a series of excited emojis or the waving hand. There are still loads of question marks, even multiples in the same comment. But I see the occasional, “I can’t wait!” or “We’ve missed you, Ari.”
The third and final teaser video I post is a close-up of one of the big cameras on set with the text reading, “…entertained!”
This video gets the most response. It’s absolutely explosive. There are thousands of comments within hours. “OMG, is this your movie?” “I heard Ari was going to be in a movie. I didn’t believe it.” “Is this a movie camera? What’s going on?”
Then there are the responses to comments. “She’s not in a movie, dorks. She’s just making new podcasts.” “There’s no way Ari will do this without her dad. She’ll probably just repost old videos.”
There hasn’t been a ton of coverage about me being in a movie, so I tip my hat to the few fans who have seen any of the miniscule amount of news.
In the meantime, I’ve recorded interviews with Sally, Terrell, and Grumpy Troll Lady – a.k.a.
Grimilda, who is actually quite a character when she relaxes.
I’ve been recording takes of my new life for the intro video I plan to release next week.
I’ve asked Glory to record a few specific spaces and places back home to give my fans a little comparison of what I came from and what I’m up against now.
I plan to release a new video twice a week.
Every Tuesday and Friday, which have notoriously been my best viewership days.
It's so great to have this additional project. Even though working on a movie is hard work, the podcast is all mine, and that kind of hard work feels extra special. I know Dad would love that I’m doing this.
I pause, waiting for the grief to slice through me at the thought of Dad, but only a dull ache hits.
And along with it is a little bit of happiness over the memory of the time we spent together making the videos.
It has been so long since a memory of Dad has prompted anything other than pain that I sit with my eyes closed, soaking it up.
I’m slumped in the camp chair outside my dressing room, laptop balanced on my knees, editing Grimilda’s interview when a shadow falls over me.
My gaze is reluctant to leave my computer screen because I want to get this cut exactly right to add to the levity of the answer Grimilda just gave to my ridiculous question.
I freeze the video and peel my attention from my computer.
“Oh!” I say, surprised to find Crispin standing over me, a quizzical expression on his face. I cock my head because he’s not in character. “Don’t you work today?”
“I just finished up. I was hoping you had the afternoon off too?”
It’s clearly a question, so I shake my head. “My call is after lunch. Why? What’s up?”
He’s about to answer when Grimilda stumps into the area, carrying four identical t-shirts that she hangs on the mobile wardrobe. Apparently, the scene I’m shooting this afternoon involves mud.
Crispin turns his attention to her instead with the most genuine smile I’ve ever seen him give, curving his lips. “Grim, it’s great to see you.”
She grunts in reply.
“Charming as ever, I see.” His eyes track her into my dressing room and back out again. “Still running a tight ship, as well.”
“Always.”
I snicker at her grumpy reply. She doesn’t even look at Crispin as she shuffles around him, shooing him like he’s a pesky fly.
“I see the love is thick between you two,” I say.
Grimilda rolls her eyes at me before she tromps out of my makeshift dressing area completely.
With arched brows, I look to Crispin for an explanation.
He watches her disappear around a corner before explaining.
“I’ve worked with her several times over the years.
Productions often ask for her by name because she’s so organized.
” He finally turns back to me, mischief sparking in his eyes.
“I always have to mess with her. Sometimes I would just rearrange the wardrobe.” He points to where my four identical shirts hang.
“But one time I replaced all my movie clothes with personal items of clothing from home.”
I cringe, imagining her reaction.
“Another time, I squirted grape jam on every piece of costuming she staged for the day. And another time, I dressed up in the clothing for one of the girl characters from the movie.”
By now, my mouth hangs open, but I’m not sure if I’m impressed or horrified. “Do you have a death wish?”
“Something like that. I really love to rile her up. Something about that Hungarian accent.”
I squint. I had to interview her to learn she’s from Hungary.
Did Crispin ask her or recognize the accent?
I’m surprised at how well he gets to know the people we work with.
I’m beginning to understand how far off my first impressions of him were.
But I’m not sure whose fault that is. “Your devilish streak surprises me.”
He simply shrugs, looking pleased with himself.
Finally, I steer the conversation back to his unexpected question. “Why were you hoping I’d have the afternoon free?”
“There’s this little museum that I swear nobody even knows about, that’s packed full of juicy Hollywood couples’ drama through the ages. I thought you and Sally would enjoy visiting. Sally seems to really be into that kind of stuff.” He shrugs.
“Oh, uh…” I stammer as I try to figure out the rush of emotions that unexpectedly fries my brain. But most importantly, why I’m feeling disappointment to hear his invitation includes Sally. Did I really think he was here to ask me out? Alone? That’s ridiculous. “You two should go!”
“Well, I mean, no. It wouldn’t be fun without you.”
I eye him suspiciously. Since when does he consider me fun? Didn’t he say I walked around with a black cloud over my head?
“Maybe we could go this weekend? Any plans Saturday?”
I blink. What is happening right now? Am I becoming friends with Crispin Moore? “Um, honestly, I never have plans, so whenever works best for you two.”
“Great. I’ll get with Sally and see if Saturday works for her, too.”
I nod at the last minute, erasing my confused look and replacing it with a smile. It literally feels like I’m in a dream that could quickly spiral into a nightmare as I watch Crispin’s head expand into a laughing fun house clown bobbing to and fro.
“Okay, then. I guess I’ll see you later.” Crispin takes a couple steps backward and waves awkwardly. “Have a good shoot.”
“Thanks.”
He backs into my mobile wardrobe, almost toppling it.
His arms and legs fly in all directions at once, and his tall frame teeters precariously.
Scrambling to keep himself and the wardrobe upright, he clutches the metal frame but almost knocks all the clothes off.
They sway dramatically. I imagine the hangers scrabbling at the slick metal rod by their fingertips.
My mouth hangs open in shock as I watch him compose himself again.
“Whoops. Grim wouldn’t have liked that.” His laugh is forced, and his cheeks are blazing.
I shake my head. “No, she wouldn’t.”
“Okay, well, um..” He steps dramatically around the wardrobe. “Bye.”
Unable to close my mouth, it still gapes as I nod and watch him go. Did the writers who wrote my pratfall character, Stella, just write that entire exchange for Crispin? Because that was cringe-level awkward.