Chapter 4
Al dropped us off at the Hotel Bel-Air. Ellen and I had to take three different elevators to get to my suite, which had a living room and a huge patio with its own miniature heated pool. It was larger than the studio apartment I’d had when we filmed Warhol.
I texted Juniper: My room has a pool.
Juniper texted back: If you turn the TV on and walk around the room, it follows you. Even when you live in a city, the studio will put you up when you’re doing promo, and so while Juniper was an Angeleno, she still got a free hotel room.
I turned the TV on. Romantic piano music played while the screen showed information about the Hotel Bel-Air.
Ellen and I walked all around the room, and the TV tilted itself to face us wherever we went.
When I ducked, the TV rotated downward so that I could still see all of the information the Hotel Bel-Air wanted to share about itself.
I had a text from Bob. Call me when you can. Arawas update. I didn’t really want to call him, though. Bob talked so much it was kind of exhausting, like the world was on fire and only his talking could put it out, and I was a little dizzy from the plane.
The living room couch looked beautiful but uncomfortable. Lots of right angles. There was champagne on the coffee table in front of it, and the bottle shifted a little as some ice melted. I turned off the TV. “Are we doing anything after we see the movie?” I asked Ellen.
“You are going with Juniper and the producers to the only vegetarian restaurant on earth with two Michelin stars. I am going to eat take-out Thai with my wife on our couch while we watch television and continue our long-standing argument about whether we can start a family when one of us travels so much for work.”
I went into the bedroom and lay on the bed on my stomach. Ellen followed me in, sat in a desk chair, and said, “The movie is really good.” She said it like she was sorry.
“But?” I said.
“No but. It’s a great movie. And you’re great in it.”
“But?”
“How do you feel about Juniper?”
“I love Juniper.”
“Wonderful.” Ellen checked her phone, stood up, and typed while she talked.
“Kai, the test scores for this movie are insane. Do you know what test scores are?” I nodded, even though I didn’t really.
“Ninety-two percent top two boxes. Ninety-two percent. So the scores are amazing, but it’s an art movie.
Nobody even knows this film exists. Nobody knows what it’s called because the title has five fucking words.
You know how many hit movies have five-word titles?
None. Think of the movies that do well: Transformers is about cars that transform.
Meet the Parents is about meeting the parents.
This is a movie about an artist who is dead.
You can’t possibly know how rare this is, how lucky you are to get a first movie that is pure fucking gold and could be in the awards hunt.
But we have to get people to see the movie. ”
Ellen tossed me her phone and said, “You see a pattern there?”
It was Juniper’s Instagram.
“A lot of pictures of her and me?”
The bed at the Hotel Bel-Air was the nicest bed I’d ever laid on.
I started wondering how many nights I could stay there consecutively before I ran out of money.
I’d never had a lot of money, but I’d gotten eighty thousand for the movie, and I hadn’t spent any of it.
I had enough from being in two Lowe’s commercials to cover the rent in the apartment where I supposedly lived.
“How much do you think this room costs a night?” I asked Ellen.
“Are you listening?” she asked.
“Yeah, sorry. What?”
“Juniper transparently and authentically likes you, and you transparently and authentically like Juniper, and this transparent and authentic fondness should be regularly reinforced to your followers, which Juniper has been doing magnificently.”
“Well, isn’t Katie the Publicist doing the actual posting?”
“Another thing you need to understand is that Katie is Juniper, and that I am you, at least for the next twenty-three days.”
“So I should give you my Instagram password.”
“Also Facebook,” she said. “You aren’t dating anyone, are you?”
“Not really?”
“No.”
“What?”
“If you’re not really dating someone, no, you’re not dating anyone. Yes, you’re single. No, you’re not in a relationship, and yes, you transparently and authentically like Juniper. Will they? Won’t they? That’s what we’re going for here.”
“Right, yeah,” I said. “No, I’m not in a relationship.
” I wasn’t, either. There was this girl in New York I had been out with a few times.
She was a grad student at Columbia studying something called “social virology.” She was smart, and interesting, and attractive, but she wasn’t especially nice.
On our last date, she had called me “fascinatingly undereducated,” which stung because I was undereducated, and I felt it all the time.
Everyone knew more than me about everything—about wine and about strains of weed and about Russian literature and about social virology.
I was always behind in every conversation.
“Kai. Your socials.”
“Yes?”
“Are you literally not hearing the words I’m saying?”
I literally was not hearing the words she was saying.
“We’ve got your Insta and Facebook verified. You don’t have a Twitter, correct?”
“Correct.”
“Well, you do now. You won’t ever have to think about it. Listen, your socials are great. We just need to up the PPD a bit. I can post for you—with your approval of course.”
“PPD?”
“Posts per day. I know it’s a lot. But when you see the movie, you’ll understand. It’s a special film, and you are a revelation in it. But we’re gonna be heavily reliant on social to promote it.”
“Okay,” I said.
“What’s your Insta pass?” I gave it to her, and my Facebook, too. She stood up, ruffled my hair like I was a little kid, and said, “I’ll let you get ready. So excited for you.”
_____
While I was in the shower, Agent Bob called me and left a voicemail. I listened to it on speaker while lying in a Hotel Bel-Air robe on the Hotel Bel-Air bed. That bed was so nice it made me almost feel like I was weightless, like I wasn’t even in a body.
“Kai, it’s Bob. I know young people don’t listen to voicemails but I gotta tell you kid I’m so proud of you and what you’ve achieved and so excited for the future.
I got a call from the head of the studio this morning and he said he saw the movie and you’re an epiphany.
That’s what he said. An epiphany! Don’t fire me when you blow up, okay?
I’m kidding but I’m not kidding. I’m setting up a meeting with Brian.
He wants to talk to you about Gods of Andromeda.
Wants you to test this week while you’re in town.
With Juniper already cast it’d be great for us.
Same studio, same power couple. Not that you’re a couple of course.
Unless you are. None of my business! Enjoy this, Kai!
This is as good as it gets. You’re going to absolutely explode. ”