Chapter 12
ANYA
The first day Danny and Callum are on set together is already a disaster. I’m a big believer in signs so as soon as the camera cards corrupt and they have to change the kit, we might as well all go home.
The tension is already high from the arrival of Callum, and Danny’s unprecedented freak out. I have already heard whispers of his Diva-ism, which had started to die down once Charles had left us alone for a few weeks. Danny was quiet when I took him home that first day. He didn’t say anything in the car and didn’t even say goodbye when we got to his hotel. The days following were much the same. I could cajole him out of his moods most of the time, but it was like trying to get a stone to bleed. Or laugh.
If he wants to be a child about it, he is more than welcome. He can treat me like a coat rack for all I care. So what if there was that…moment in his trailer before he agreed to stay. It almost felt like he changed his mind…because of me? I decide to just log that with all the other moments that have raised the hair on the back of my neck and caused a swoop in my belly, and just forget about it completely.
He hasn’t spoken to me today. I’ve kept it up as long as I could without saying anything, but unfortunately, this job relies on communication — even if it is one-sided.
I linger outside his trailer, psyching myself up to confront the moody bastard. The June sun is beating down on me and I curse myself for forgetting my sunscreen. I have maybe five minutes before I turn into a lobster.
Get over yourself, I think in Danny’s direction in his tin can, before huffing up the steps to his door. Before I can even reach the top step the door swings open, nearly knocking me out. Danny emerges, and he doesn’t even acknowledge my near death experience before he’s backing me down the stairs.
“There’s a delay on set.” I hurry after him as he strides towards makeup. “You don’t have to be in makeup for like twenty minutes.”
“We can just start early.” He doesn’t even look at me.
“I mean, if you want to un-corrupt the camera cards yourself, then sure? Otherwise I think we’re at the whims of the camera loader.”
Danny ignores me and stomps up the steps of the makeup truck, pulling the door open.
“Danny,” I reach for his arm but think better of it.
His large body blocks the doorway so I can’t make out the faces of the girls inside the truck but I hear their startled gasps. Danny ignores them and sits in his usual chair.
Sally steps up, wringing her hands and glancing at me for support. I throw my hands up in the universal I don’t know what the fuck is going on sign.
Sally glances at the call sheet taped to the wall and the big red cross covering it. à la the camera cards. “Danny, you aren’t supposed to be here for another twenty minutes.”
Danny glances around at the empty truck before settling into his chair. “I’m here now.”
Sally glances at me again. Chewing my lip, I glance at Danny. Yes, he is being a prick right now, but he won’t even look at me. Something is going on. So, I pick a side. “Is it okay if you do him now?”
Sally looks to the ceiling before throwing her hands up. “Fine.”
Danny doesn’t even acknowledge us, pulling out his phone. He’s probably just looking through his settings, the loser.
“I’ll uh,” I mutter, “I’ll go let production know.”
Sally glares at me as I make my hasty escape, her eyes screaming, “C oward” .
Stepping into the fresh air, I start to panic. You can’t just decide when to start filming, that’s just not how it works. The thought of telling Rachel that the lead actor has decided the shooting schedule almost makes me break out in hives, but the thought of going back in there and telling Danny to leave is not an option.
Fortunately–or unfortunately–I spot Sarah outside the food truck typing on her iPad. Taking a deep breath, I approach certain disaster.
“Uh, Sarah?” I ask
Sarah replies with a vague “Hmm?”
“Yeah, so Danny is in makeup right now.” I say, gesturing to the truck behind me.
Sarah’s brow furrows, glancing at her watch. “Why did you do that? He’s not supposed to be in makeup for another twenty minutes.”
“Yeah, so I know that, and also he knows that. But he— uh—well he doesn’t seem to…care.” I finish lamely.
Sarah looks at me blankly. “What?”
“Yeah, he seems really keen to uh, get rolling.”
“Right, so I will go and tell the director, and the DOP and the sound guys and the art department that Danny is ready to get rolling .” She says it so flatly that the words swallow me whole.
Humiliation burns my cheeks but I have nothing to say. My teeth bite into my lip hard enough to sting.
“I thought your job was to handle him,” Sarah says. “So handle him. We’re not starting any earlier.” She strides off muttering under her breath.
My lip will be chewed off by the end of this shoot, and I am going to send my plastic surgery bill to Danny Covington’s door.
Shamefaced, I return to the makeup truck but linger outside for the rest of Danny’s time. When he finally emerges, I can’t even look at him, my embarrassment at getting told off hardening into fury in my gut.
Fuck this man thinking he can treat us all like servants, ready to obey his whims at the snap of his fingers. My fury morphs into resolve as soon as Danny opens the door. I stand with my arms crossed and what I hope is a fierce glare.
Danny doesn’t even acknowledge me as he brushes past me in the direction of the costume truck. Unlike my earlier hesitance, I have no qualms about grabbing his arm and pulling him to a stop. I will jump on his back and tackle him to the ground if I have to.
He glances down at my arm with an indistinguishable look on his face.
“Your trailer is that way,” I say, not bothering to point.
“I’m going to costume.”
“Not for thirty minutes you’re not.”
“They’ll be ready for me.”
“No, they won’t.”
“Yes, they will.”
“No, they won’t.”
“Look I haven’t got time to play this game with you, freckles.”
“ Au contraire , you have buckets of time, thirty minutes in fact.”
Danny rolls his eyes. “Give me a break. I’m being a good boy and ready to get this over with. You should be happy.”
“I’ll be happy when you just do the things you’re supposed to do when you’re supposed to do them.”
“I’m going to costume.”
“They’re not ready for you, Danny. Go sit in your trailer until it’s time.”
Danny glares at me, his arms crossed over his chest. I stand my ground, ignoring the biceps bulging out of his t-shirt.
“You’re very bossy, do you know that?”
I shoot him a toothy grin that doesn’t quite reach my eyes. Huffing a breath, he stalks off in the direction of his trailer. I follow behind him, gloating in my win. He closes the door behind him.
Message received, I think. I detour to find Sarah and tell her that Danny is back on schedule. Sarah doesn’t thank me, obviously, so I make myself scarce. Heading to the food truck, I grab a banana.
Jess is pouring what looks like a dozen cups of tea from the vat.
“Can I help?” Jess jumps, spilling some tea out of the small disposable cup. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Jess laughs nervously.
I start placing the lids on the cups, hoping she has already got a system to remember which is which.
“Thank you,” she says, piling them into a carrier.
A young guy reaches between us and pours himself a coffee. “Hey Jess,” he glances at me. “Danny’s girl.”
I raise my eyebrows. That’s a nickname that I’d rather not catch on.
“Anya,” I say, striving for politeness but not quite making it.
He leaves without a word.
“Sorry,” Jess says, awkwardly.
“It’s fine. I’m not offended.” Lie.
“I need to get back to Danny ,” I say, emphasizing his name as if to prove a point. Although what that point is I can’t say.
Jess ducks her head and goes back to her tea as I head back to the truck. Danny’s girl.
I feel a touch of guilt for snapping at Jess, she’s not even the one who said it. I rub my eyes, praying this shitty day is the result of a bad dream.
I’ve meandered long enough that by the time I get to his truck, Danny is right on time. He swings the door open before I can even knock.
“Am I on time now?” he asks sarcastically.
“Precisely.” I smile. I expect it looks more like a grimace but he doesn’t seem to notice. His foul mood settling over both of us like a dark cloud.
He’s already made me look bad in front of Sarah, I snapped at Jess and even the sound guy thinks I’m just his bitch. Throughout his costume fitting, I stand fuming against the wall. I’m so angry I don’t even allow myself to acknowledge that he is basically naked behind the thin curtain separating us.
On set, I settle into my corner and watch as Gwendoline speaks to Danny. Usually he nods or looks at her or in some way acknowledges what she’s saying, but today he stands stone faced and still.
Callum McBride swans onto set. From my research, Callum is a heartthrob in his own right, coming up through the TV route and jumping over to film after his last show went viral. Largely because of his good looks and fueled by rumors of a liaison with his married co-star.
As soon as Danny spots him, all the tension that’s been rising in him this morning finally pushes to the surface. His jaw clenches and his shoulders hunch. Seeing the two in the same room, it’s understandable why Charles wanted to push this. Callum is tall and blond, and looks like he just stepped off a yacht. Though standing next to Danny, Callum McBride’s good looks pale in comparison. A few inches shorter with a wider face and a cruel smirk.
I begin to get the feeling I probably shouldn’t have left Danny alone to stew earlier. Whatever bad mood he was in has just intensified during the time he sat sulking in his trailer. The notion proves to be pretty accurate after one hour rolls into two which rolls into four.
It’s pretty clear that Callum is a classic agitator. Every time they yell cut, Danny’s expression shutters but Callum’s grin climbs along his cheekbone as he mutters something too quiet for the crew to hear.
As time goes on, I notice the crew getting restless. Every time the DOP pulls away from the camera he grimaces, and every time the boom operator pulls his arms down he sighs audibly. There is no way Danny is unaware, but it’s like his attention is warped by the blond acting opposite him.
Gwen and Rachel huddle and I can immediately smell trouble.
“Alright guys listen up,” Rachel announces, “We’re looking to go into grace to get this done.”
Groans and shuffles fill the room. Grace is essentially fifteen minutes of overtime. Unpaid overtime.
Danny doesn’t notice.
The hair and makeup trainee, Katie, creeps onto set and heads for Danny. I’m moving before I even question why.
The question is answered as Danny explodes, “Can you back the fuck off? Jesus Christ.”
Katie nearly drops the concealer brush in her hand. I step up and put my hand on her elbow, steadying her as I feel her arm tremble. I glare at Danny.
“Hey man, back off,” Jerry, one of the crew, says.
“Oh piss off mate,” Danny snaps, his face scrunching. “Go back to your corner.”
“ Danny ,” I hiss, stepping in front of Katie.
He doesn’t acknowledge me, still staring over my head at Jerry.
Rachel forges into the fray. “Is there a problem here?”
“Yeah there’s a problem,” Danny seethes. “I’m surrounded by fucking idiots.”
The grumbles of the crew get louder and the animosity bubbles in the crowd. I feel tethered to Danny’s side. It’s clear to me what side I’m going to end up in this fight, no matter how infuriated I am.
Eventually Gwendoline pipes up. “Alright everyone let’s cool off. We’ll forget the grace, I think we have enough.”
I see Callum hide his smirk behind his hand.
Katie finally backs away, ungluing her feet from the floor.
I turn to Danny. “Let’s go.”
Danny clenches his jaw and storms away, shrugging off the hand I place on his arm and giving Callum a wide berth.
The walk across set is terse, the ride back to base even worse. My anger whirls in my belly, tinged with embarrassment. All day I’ve been fending off criticism and scorn because I’ve been saddled with a belligerent man child who can’t even be a decent person to Katie, who is easily the sweetest girl on set.
Danny slams the car door behind him as he heads to his trailer. I hasten my strides as I chase after him, catching his trailer door before he can slam that too. I’m going to have to replace it with a curtain just to stop him taking his feelings out on the poor door frame.
“What is going on with you today?” I ask incredulously.
Danny ignores me, pulling off his shirt. I glance away at the sight of his broad back, refusing to acknowledge the dip in my belly that should be full of righteous anger.
Recovering, I say, “You’ve been in a foul mood all day. Just tell me what the problem is and I can help.”
“Would you just piss off, Anya? I don’t know why you think you’re helping me because you’re not. You’re just making everything worse. I don’t give a shit about this vanity project, I hope I waste enough money to bankrupt the whole fucking lot of them.”
I clutch my hands at my hips, my frustration from this horrendous day finally spilling over.
“You might not give a shit about this job but every single other person here does. They’re away from their families working grueling hours before you even get out of your thousand euro a night bed. They work hard all day whilst you lounge in here, and they have to stay and work longer when you are being completely selfish just to piss off your father.”
“It’s pretty cushy for you in this trailer too though isn’t it?” he seethes. “All you do is buzz around my ear and fetch me my fucking coffee.”
I see red. “You know what Danny? Fuck you.”
“Fuck me?” he laughs scathingly. “Original.”
“Don’t you patronize me, you stubborn prick. I’m here running around after you, getting treated like a social fucking pariah on set, and for what? A shitty credit working with a pretty shitty person. You know when I got this job I thought I had finally had my big break? But it’s all fucking pointless. I have a pointless job. But every single person out there is working really fucking hard for this vanity project and you just offended every last one of them. You’re pathetic. You need to grow up and appreciate what opportunities you’ve been given because there are thousands of people who would not be so careless with theirs.”
I finish my rant, heaving. Unable to even look at him, I turn and slam the door behind me for once.