Chapter 6
Chapter Six
CLOVER
“Hello,” I singsong as I step into the warm room.
The space is mostly dark, with the floors and walls being black, save for the one opposite the casting team’s table, where the camera is focused.
It is a deep blue. There are two green taped Xs on the floor, showing where Roman and I should stand for today’s read.
The table is full of faces I don’t recognize for the most part, but the one I do from my research is the director, Arnold Chen.
“Clover,” he says warmly, “great to see you again.” He steps out from the table to shake my hand.
He’s tall and handsome, with his jet-black hair perfectly placed, and wearing a white long-sleeved shirt.
“Here we’ve got some people from the casting team — Julia, Sean, Davina, and Harlow,” he announces.
Each casting team member offers a little bob of their head in hello and some smile at me.
“Our camera tech, Mike,” he gestures to the friendly face hiding behind the camera, “and this is Roman,” he says, tossing a hand toward the other side of the room where a figure looms. I look over at him, and cool indifference rolls off him in waves.
I wait for him to give me some kind of greeting, but it never comes.
His face is a hard mask of impenetrable pessimism. He gives me a quick look up and down, as if scanning over my body to get an indication based on appearance alone of how good my performance today will be. Prick.
Fuck this guy, thinking he can get away with not even giving me a polite little hello. Not today, shithead. With balls way bigger than my brain, I saunter over to him and look up straight into his pale blue eyes.
“Hi, I’m Clover. Nice to meet you,” I say cheerfully as I whip my hand in front of him.
I’m forcing the issue–there’s no way he can ignore me now or not shake my hand–it’d be way too awkward and frankly unprofessional at this point.
I plaster a smile on my face that feels fake, but I don’t give a shit if he sees that or not.
Right now, this is a dick-measuring contest, and I refuse to lose.
Looking up at him, I realize that my heart rate has gone up. Partly because I’m still so pissed off and I’m right in front of the jerk himself, but then also partly because my body is having some weird visceral reaction to being this close to him.
There’s no getting around the fact that Roman is one of the most attractive men I’ve ever seen, and that was something I’d admit to having only seen him on screen and in pictures before. Now, being in his presence, being under that piercing blue gaze... it’s something else entirely.
While I wait to see how he’ll respond, my eyes trace a trail over the features of his face.
The strong line of his jaw, the slight cleft in his chin, and smooth beautiful lips that are twisting up slightly into a smile.
His eyes crinkle at the corners with a sort of annoyed amusement, and he brushes strands of dark caramel hair away from his eyes, where they’ve fallen haphazardly.
He pushes them back into a mussed hairstyle that looks as though it was borrowed from all the leading men in the 90s.
I notice the arm he raised is covered in ink.
The movement is too brief for me to make out anything in particular within the sleeve of tattoos I can see, but it appears intricate.
Roman tracks my gaze, and his smile turns more devious, his tongue darting out ever so slightly to wet his lower lip. I flush with embarrassment as I realize I completely and utterly watched that move like a hawk.
“Clover,” he says, as if he’s tasting how my name feels on his tongue.
He doesn’t offer me any empty platitudes like “it’s so great to meet you,” “nice to see you,” or even a simple “welcome”, but if anything, that suits me just fine seeing as it would have been so disingenuous for him to do so that I might’ve laughed in his stupid, beautiful face.
Instead, his warm, broad hand envelopes mine, holding it in a tight handshake. I look down to see where we’re connected, and there’s a compass tattoo on the back of his hand.
“Shall we?” he asks in a way that tells me he totally thinks this’ll be a waste of everyone’s time, but he also thinks he’s being a hero and throwing me a bone and making my dreams come true by simply acting alongside me for the next few minutes.
His smarmy expression makes me want to scream. I have just as much of a right to be here as he does. I was invited here today to do this, and yeah, sure, technically I’m not hired yet and he is, but I am no less deserving of respect because of it.
“Lead the way,” I grit out behind my forced smile. I am going to act my fucking face off, and this guy better prepare himself. Roman drops my hand and saunters over to one of the X’s marked on the floor.
“This other X here is for–” he speaks slowly like I’ll have a hard time following instructions.
“I’m well aware of where to go, thanks,” I cut him off. His eyebrows raise slightly, clearly not expecting me to bark back at all. Big mistake, because not only do I bark, I also bite, and this guy’s about to learn really quickly how sharp my teeth are.
“Right,” Arnold clears his throat from the table at the back of the room. “Whenever you’re ready, Clover, let’s start with the confrontation scene. We’re rolling now, so when you’re set, begin.”
“Perfect, thanks.” I smile back at him sincerely before placing my script a few feet away from me on the floor. Arnold’s been nothing but pleasant so far, and I have a feeling he and I would get along great.
“You sure you don’t need that?” Roman asks, looking at the script.
“No, some of us actually memorized our lines for today,” I reply sweetly with an edge in my voice. As soon as the words are out, I want to kick myself for being so outwardly rude to him. But I couldn’t help myself. I can’t stand being talked down to.
“Well, in that case...” Roman replies before tossing his to the ground a few feet behind him. “Let’s see what you’ve got,” he smirks. It’s totally a taunt, I can tell that this guy doesn’t think I’ll be able to do this. I can’t wait to prove him wrong.
I close my eyes for a moment and take a few deep breaths.
When I open them, I’m looking out through my character’s eyes.
I say my first line, and then immediately Roman is volleying his back to me.
And while I want to be pissed off at how he handled me, Clover, right now I need to be Moonbeam.
Who, conveniently, is also pissed off at Eclipse.
The lines flow out of me as though they’re coming straight from my soul. I feel my character’s intentions and her emotions in my bones as if they were my own.
Whatever I’m giving, Roman serves it back in spades.
His emotions and the eye contact he’s giving me are nothing but fuel to my creative fire, and I am igniting.
The scene builds until my character is supposed to slap Roman’s.
I know this, and I can feel my blood racing and my heart pumping ferociously as I step closer to him to mime the slap.
Obviously, I’m not going to actually slap him, but I won’t lie – I’m not opposed to the idea after hearing him talk shit about me.
He invades my space, and I’m momentarily overcome by the heat coming off of his body.
He’s only a few inches taller than me since I am five foot nine, but his presence is overwhelming.
It sets my heart racing even faster. I step forward for the slap and move my hand toward his face, but I stop it before it can make contact with his skin.
Admittedly, it was a bit of a wimpy lead-up, but I wanted to make extra sure not to make contact with him. Somehow, I don’t think slapping him would make me lock down the job.
“Good!” Arnold calls from behind the monitor. “Let’s go one more time from the top.”
“You can do better than that, can’t you?” Roman whispers in my ear before pulling back. It was so quiet and quick that I’m stunned for a second, wondering if I heard correctly. I look up at his face, and his expression tells me I 100% did.
I’m seeing red. We do the scene once more, and I pour even more of myself into the performance, and when it comes time for the slap, I make sure not to do a slow lead up this time. It’s better, but still miles away.
“Perfect, and for this one can you please angle a little more toward the camera so we can get a better shot of your face?” Arnold calls out.
“Of course,” I say, stepping slightly to the side. Roman tilts his body so that his back is angled more toward the camera, and he leans in close.
He whispers, “That all you got?”
I open my mouth to gape like a fish for a second, shocked that he has the audacity to talk like this. It was so quiet that no one else appears to have heard.
“No, that’s not all that I’ve got.” I hiss under my breath. I look up into his icy blue eyes and the contempt oozes through my pores.
Roman leans forward, and places his mouth so close that I can feel his lips ghost along the shell of my ear.
“Prove it. Approach the slap like you fucking mean it, Daly,” he whispers before pulling away.
“When you’re ready,” Arnold calls. We run through the scene one more time, and when it comes time for the slap at the end, Roman raises an eyebrow and smirks in challenge. I take his advice and go for the slap like I mean it. And clearly, I did, because I accidentally make contact with him.
It’s not hard enough to seriously hurt, but it’s hard enough that the noise it makes sounds loud and clear in the otherwise quiet room.
My eyes flare in surprise, and immediately I drop character and cover my open mouth with my hands.
Oh shit. I am so not booking this gig. I had a shot until I literally slapped Roman freaking Everett across his beautiful stupid face.
I look up at him, and instead of being pissed off, he rubs at his reddening jaw, and his eyes dance with amusement mingling with disbelief.
“Nicely done,” he mutters with a dark chuckle.
“I didn’t mean to–”
“Roman, are you okay?” Arnold calls out.
“Yeah, I stepped in too close. It’s my bad.” He replies quickly as his eyes lock onto mine.
“Okay, well in that case I think we’ve got all we need for that scene. Let’s move on to the romantic one?”
If I didn’t feel like throwing up before, I certainly do now. I mean, sure, I thought I wanted to clock Roman, but now that I actually did, I’m feeling terrible about it. Did he deserve it? Yeah, but that doesn’t change the fact that I feel guilty.
I move back toward the X on the floor, and shake my arms a little, trying to dispel the nervous energy in them. I’m having an out of body experience right now.
“Roman, start us off.” Arnold calls. I barely have a second to collect my thoughts and hop back into character before Roman starts delivering his lines.
“I thought I told you not to come after me,” he says intently as he scans my face.
I’m still a little dazed after the slap fiasco, but I try to rally quickly. “And I thought you’d know that I don’t take orders from you,” I reply somewhat breathlessly.
Roman scans my face, and his eyes swirl with emotion, causing my stomach to do a dumb little flip.
“And you should know by now that it’s not about taking orders, it’s about keeping you safe,” he says, but it almost comes out like a plea.
It feels magnetic when he says it, and I find myself stepping off my mark on the floor and being pulled toward him.
“What if that’s not what I want?” This close, I can almost feel our chests pressing together if we were to both take big inhales at the same time.
“What do you want?” he offers back as his face slowly lowers toward mine.
I tilt mine up so that we’re sharing breath.
Breaking contact with his eyes and looking down to his sinfully beautiful mouth, my stomach once again does a traitorous dip.
My heart thunders so hard in my chest that I worry for a second that Roman can see it.
The ringing in my ears threatens to overpower my next line.
“I think...” I whisper as Roman closes what little distance remains between us and his body presses against mine.
His warm hand cradles the back of my head, sending a dizzying wave of pleasure down my neck.
His lips lower to within a hair’s breadth of mine, and I can practically taste him.
My knees are threatening to give out with him this close to me, with him being so all-consuming.
Quickly inhaling, I ready myself for our lips to make contact, closing my eyes as my own hands snake behind his neck, encouraging him to close that tiny bit of space that remains between us.
With that, Roman lowers the last bit until I can feel the beginning of his lips dusting mine and–
“Great!” Arnold calls out loudly, sending a jolt through my entire body.
Instantly I remember where I am and who is holding me.
My hands fly off Roman as if I’ve touched a hot stove, and I take a step back from him, putting some much needed distance between me and the dick himself.
Fidgeting with my ponytail, I glance over to Roman quickly.
He’s watching me with a look I can’t quite discern.
All I know is that it’s not the same look from a few minutes ago when I’d walked into the room.
I look back toward Arnold and the rest of the casting team, trying to see if they’ll make me do that again, or if that was enough torture for them to judge me on. I swear out of the corner of my eye that Roman is still looking at me, and that his hand comes up to touch his lips.
“That was...” Arnold starts, looking around at the rest of the casting team. Their expressions range from vaguely amused to straight-up elated. “Perfect,” he finishes, and warm relief flows through my body.
“I... um... thanks,” I say, unsure of what the proper response is. “Do you need to see anything else from me?”
“I’ve seen everything that I need to,” Arnold says. “Roman, do you need anything else?”
Setting my jaw, I face Roman head-on. How was that for not needing a script? Asshole.
He smirks, appearing to be amused with my irritation, which only serves to further infuriate me.
“That was everything I needed,” he confirms as he scans my face.
“Perfect, well thank you so much for your time today, and please reach out to me or my agent if you need anything else from me,” I say in a chipper voice.
“Excellent, thank you, Clover. We’ll be in touch,” Arnold calls from the table. I take that as my cue to leave, and head toward the exit. I don’t look back as I push out of the room and into the hallway.