Chapter Seventeen #2

I see the first mockup of Ashla and can’t help but

squeal with pure joy. Sure, she’s an alien with orange skin, blue eyes, and

white facial markings. And she has headtails instead

of hair. But she’s so beautiful, she takes my breath away.

She’s a far cry from any character I’ve ever played, but I

love her so much already.

So much of my time is spent being in awe of this process. I

think about how I thought they were done making more Galactic Wars

stories. So, being here now, originating a brand-new character, makes me feel

like I’ve won the lottery.

Plus, this role could allow me to leave a legacy like the

well-known characters before me. No one will remember me playing the punk

rocker in a movie, or any of the characters I played on Workin'

for Laughs, but this? This really could be my breakout role. The

one that finally has people knowing my name.

A lottery I can literally tell no one about.

The plan is to record the entire first season before any

announcements are made. I’m very lucky that I have understanding family and

friends. Jen’s made a game of asking me vague questions, hoping to get me to

give her even a tiny bit of information, but it never works. She and her

boyfriend are huge Galactic Wars fans, so I know she’s excited for me,

but she’d be even more excited if I gave her the scoop.

Gah! I’m so frustrated yet giddy at the same time.

Which pretty much sums up my life at the moment.

When I’m in LA and working on The Echo Wars, every

day is filled with nothing but positive energy. Everyone working on the series

is psyched to be a part of it, and since we can’t share what’s going on with

anyone outside of the studio, we’ve become like a little family.

Or a really cool and exclusive club.

But when I’m back in St. Louis, I have a lot of anxiety

and…well…frustration. I’ve done everything but tie Christian to a chair to

prevent him from going to the stadium, but nothing’s worked. He’s still

playing, still in pain, and every day when he leaves the apartment, he comes

home moving a little slower and wincing a lot more.

What else can I do?

“Hey, Ella!”

I turn and see our showrunner, Amy, coming into the studio.

I smile. “Hey. How are you?”

“I’m fine, thanks. Listen, we made some revisions to the next

episode. Twenty-two pages worth,” she adds with a small laugh before handing me

an envelope.

I inwardly squeal with glee because…twenty-two.

We get hard copies of all the scripts to ensure nothing gets

leaked. People working on the Galactic Wars project in the past have

had their emails and computers hacked by fans trying to find out what’s coming

next.

“We really love what you’ve done with Ashla so far. And now

that we’ve completed the artwork for her, the animators can finally get

started.”

“I have to tell you, I love how the writers have her

developing. Ashla really is such a fun character, and I’m having the best time

breathing life into her.”

She nods but doesn’t say anything at first. I can sense that

something else is coming, but I don’t know if it’s good or bad.

When she doesn’t move to leave, I feel a knot forming in the

pit of my stomach. Nothing good ever comes when a showrunner—or any of the

creative executives—comes to talk to you privately.

“Is everything okay, Amy?” I ask.

She hesitates for just a moment before seeming to resign

herself to the conversation.

“Obviously, Griffin Lawson is overseeing this project,” she

begins.

Griffin is the creator of the entire Galactic Wars

franchise. He is very involved in this project, but we don’t really work with

him directly. He works out of his office in San Francisco, and we record the

show in Los Angeles. But we hear many stories about what he thinks about the

project, and sometimes, we even receive notes about our performance. Seriously,

I cannot believe that Griffin Lawson knows my name.

I nod and wait for her to continue.

“He’s been listening to the recordings and looking at the

artwork we have so far, and he’s not sold on some of the voices.”

I feel like I’m going to be sick.

Wasn’t she just praising me? Didn’t she say how they all

love what I’m doing with Ashla? And she gave me a script. That has to mean

something, doesn’t it?

My head starts spinning when I realize this is how the

conversation typically goes when you’re being let go. You get a heap of praise

before they lower the axe.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

But the script…

Swallowing hard, I nod again.

“We all know Griffin is the genius behind the entire

universe. It’s practically unheard of for a movie to launch an entire saga that

remains popular for thirty years,” she says with another small laugh.

A nervous laugh? A normal one? Does she find this amusing?

Another silent nod as my lunch feels like it’s lodged in my

throat.

“The man knows this world better than anyone. So, if he

feels a voice isn’t right, then we need to fix it.”

She pauses, and I swear the room feels about twenty degrees

warmer. I may pass out if she doesn’t get to the point in the next ten seconds.

I let out a shaky breath. “Amy, am I…am I being fir—?”

She cuts me off before I can even finish the sentence.

“What? Oh. Oh, no, Oh, Ella, I’m sorry. I should have led with that.” Reaching

out, she gives my arm a reassuring squeeze. This time, her laugh is definitely

nervous. “Gosh, I’m so sorry. This whole day has been a little wild. We’re

recasting the role of Lukan Karzen. Griffin

insisted.”

“Oh, wow…” I murmur. I’m devastated because Mark Andrews

voiced that role, and we were becoming good friends. I feel so bad for him. “Do

you have someone lined up already?”

“We do. Griffin went over all the auditions

and—ironically—we’re going with another Mark. Mark Taylor. I wanted to let you

know what was going on before you heard it from anyone else.”

“Does this mean we’re going to re-record the episodes that

we’ve already done?”

At this point, we’ve only completed four, but I’m curious.

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