Chapter XXII
XXII
Ana
“Cut! Take ten to reset.”
My arms collapse at my sides the second the scene ends.
Sweat sprinkles my forehead, my palms, and gathers beneath the draped linen covering my chest. My shoulders rise and fall as I catch my breath and take a moment to come back into myself.
I slip out of Athena like she’s a cloak I can drape carefully over my forearm until I need to put her back on.
“Ana, can you come here?” Francesca asks.
My eyes shift to her standing next to the primary camera, squinting as she watches playback. With tired steps, I make my way over.
“Take a look—when you’re approaching Ares from behind, I’m not getting the full weight of your emotion because your face stays blocked by his shoulder a hint too long.”
I see what she’s saying and tell her as much.
“For the next take, try to swing wider so we can feel the anguish and the audience can dwell there, just for a second, before Ares notices you and the scene continues.”
“Of course, that’s a great call. Thank you, Francesca.”
“Thank you for really digging in here; I know this isn’t an easy scene to film.”
“I want to get it right.” I smile.
“I know you do.”
I’ve been stewing on what to do with this Colt revelation, and I decide on my move. “Hey, could I stop by your trailer after the shoot today? I’d like to talk through something with you.”
“As long as you don’t mind a late night.
In the meantime, go get something to drink, sit down for a minute.
We’ll be ready to go again in five.” She shoos me toward craft services, and it’s remarkable, really, how different it is having a female director on this film.
It feels like all my weariness from years spent on sets with every note given through the male gaze has been erased in the months that I’ve been working under Francesca.
She’s so different than I thought she’d be after that tense meeting in the conference room before filming started.
She’s focused, with high expectations for our performance, but she’s also encouraging.
More and more, I’m realizing that she’s a lot like me, with a reflex to protect herself and what she’s worked for.
I think she recognizes it in me now too.
Cast and crew members hover around trays of muffins, veggies, and tubs of hummus. My eyes bounce around, looking for someone to hitch myself to, to engage in conversation with. But of course, they fall to him—he’s right there, fifteen feet away, talking with Colt. My stomach drops to my toes.
God, he looks like everything I don’t feel.
Content, easy. He lets out an open-mouthed laugh, dropping his head back and bringing a hand to his chest, and it may as well be a bullet the way it tears through my gut.
Being on set together is apparently no problem for him.
And if it’s no problem for him, I will make sure he knows it’s no problem for me either.
My “Hey, guys!” as I approach the table comes out bright, a bit too sharp.
I soften the tone. “Colt, how many more takes do you think we’ll have today?
I’d put money on six.” I give him my best grin, one with megawatt teeth and smile lines crinkling around my eyes.
“Six if we’re lucky,” Colt says. “I’ll put a hundred down that it’s ten plus. Want to shake on it?”
Our hands clasp. Levi’s jaw flexes in my peripheral vision. I place my other palm on top, feigning warmth or nipping at Levi’s ego, I’m not sure which. If it gets a rise out of him, he doesn’t show it.
At “Places!” we perk up like dogs who’ve heard a whistle.
Colt puts a hand on my shoulder as he makes his way past me. Levi’s presence is both silent and insistent, like a pregnant pause before a secret. Except, when it comes to Levi, he doesn’t share secrets. Not with me, anyway.
“Ana, I—”
I turn back toward set without acknowledging his bid for my attention. It’s time to get back to work, and he knows better than anyone that’s what we’re here for.
I drag my fingers across the storyboard hanging in Francesca’s trailer.
It maps the narrative arc of Athena’s War, complete with sketches, production notes, and fabric samples used to inform costume design.
It’s like seeing the inside of someone’s brain, looking at this.
Everything we’re doing on set—this story we’re telling—started with her brilliant mind. It’s incredible to witness.
She smiles, letting her eyes drift back and forth as I touch the two-dimensional plan we’re bringing to life each day.
“Crazy, isn’t it, how an idea can turn into an outline, and then a script, and then a movie?
It’s easy for it to become so familiar you forget the magic of it—of creating something out of nothing. ”
“Yes . . . though filming this movie has felt particularly wild, and not always in a good way.” I turn to face her, and she appraises me, her eyes skating over my expression.
She nods and lets out a breathy laugh. “This process hasn’t been what I expected either, though that’s largely on the personal front.”
I raise my brows, questioning.
She claims a small loveseat, and when she motions for me to sit, I take the one opposite. For a brief moment, I feel unsteady with déjà vu, the image of Levi and me sitting for our interview with People. How quickly things have changed.
Before I can lose the nerve, I say, “This may be unprofessional, but . . . Did Colt ask you to recast my role? Did he try to get me fired?”
She clears her throat and averts her eyes.
“He did. And when the story broke with the Star, we were concerned about ongoing negative press . . . but he was stressed about his image, not about me, and certainly not the film. You could say it was a tipping point for us, that I didn’t let you go.
He’s so used to getting whatever he wants without question.
He didn’t handle my decision very well.”
“Levi and I got into a fight about it,” I blurt, inserting my own heartache into the middle of hers with all the grace of a newborn giraffe.
“About the Star?”
“About whether he should have told me that Colt was gunning for me. He knew for weeks and kept it to himself.”
Francesca shifts forward in her seat and brings folded hands between her knees. Compassion oozes from her stance, her eyes.
“You know, I wasn’t sure what to make of it when you two started up.
It was a clever idea, by the way, to attempt this switcheroo with the press.
It obviously impressed me enough to keep you on the film—and I’ve been thankful every day that I did.
And your plan worked. But you know why it worked, right? ”
Heat prickles at the back of my neck, and my nerves stand at attention. I don’t answer, and she continues.
“It worked because I don’t think it was ever actually fake between you and Levi.
It was obvious from the start, to me and everyone else, that there was a connection between the two of you—friendly at first, and then something else.
The charade with Levi worked because it wasn’t a charade. Not really.”
“I suppose it wasn’t.” I sink into the dense weight of that truth, like quicksand I’d like to disappear into.
“To be honest, seeing you two together, it was such a stark contrast to my marriage. My relationship with Colt has been deteriorating for a long time. I think part of me hoped that working on this film might fix things between us. Instead, the 24/7 proximity made it very clear, very quickly, that our marriage isn’t fixable.
” She presses her hands into her thighs.
“Keep this between us, of course. It’s been a long time coming. ”
I nod, knowing her pain is of a different order of magnitude than my own. How could it not be? Theirs is a Hollywood unicorn, a decades-long relationship. Even so, she seems steady. Resolute.
“But the only way I know that our marriage isn’t fixable, and the reason why I can sit here and talk about it like this, is because we tried to fix it. For years, honestly. But you and Levi? My hunch is that it may be fixable. And don’t you want to try? If only so you can know for sure?”
“But what if he doesn’t want to try? And what if I . . . majorly overreacted and said some really awful things?”
“Who among us hasn’t?” she says with a laugh. “Part of fighting for a relationship is taking responsibility when we do.”
“Are you sure you’re not a therapist moonlighting as a director?” I wipe at my damp eyes.
“Just someone who’s been there. But I’ll answer one more question, even though you didn’t ask it.
Why did I fight to keep you in this role?
” She smooths a palm over her slicked-back bun.
“Because you’re tough—but in different ways than people seem to think you are.
I saw that when you walked into that meeting with Colt and me.
But you’re also softer than people think. You’re the full Athena package.”
My jaw opens and closes, but all I can do is press the heels of my palms against my eyes. The tears pass the floodgates. It’s not just Levi who sees and knows and appreciates me. Francesca does. And Emily does. And I think—finally—I can too.
“Now.” She pats her hands against her thighs and stands up from the couch.
“It’s late, and we’ve got another early day tomorrow.
Go get some sleep. Take a few days to figure out your feelings, and then talk through them with Levi.
One thing I know for sure: 10 p.m. is never the right time to try to fix a relationship. ”
A warm wall of air hits me as I leave her trailer.
She’s right. Maybe about everything.