Chapter 15 #2
I stood up. Charles Oldham told me to break a leg, and I said Yeah you too, and I followed Juniper and Nina down a hallway lined with headshots of every famous actor you could imagine, and then into a room with black foam sound insulation lining the walls.
At the table near one wall sat Brian, two women wearing all black, and a woman with long silver hair who introduced herself as the author, Valentina.
I walked over and shook their hands for some reason, even though Juniper didn’t. “Our creator,” I said to Valentina.
“What’s that?” she said.
“I’m sorry. That’s stupid. I’m nervous. Why am I nervous?”
Brian stood up and walked around the table. He reached out and kneaded my arms just below the shoulders. “You’re nervous because you want this,” he said. “And I like that. We good, Nina?”
“Just formatting a card, hold on,” Nina said.
Brian nodded to me, and squeezed me one last time before letting go.
Juniper took out her earbuds, and walked over to me.
She gave me a hug, and as she did, I heard her whisper, “Give me that John Wick 2 look right now,” and as we parted I looked at her, and I watched a blush spread across her face, and then Nina said, “All right, I think we’re good to go,” and Brian said, “I think we’re already going. ”
After that it was easy. I was Gavinth, and she was Agrippah, and my lines felt mine, and I wanted her, and I wanted what she had, and she wanted me and wanted to keep me from getting what she had.
When Brian said, “Cut, that was great,” I was genuinely surprised to learn that I was in a dingy room with laminate floors surrounded by strangers.
“How did that feel?” Brian asked.
“Wonderful,” I said. You’re always chasing that high as an actor, feeling like you aren’t stuck inside your mind, that you actually can leave your consciousness.
I’d never had the experience in an audition before, not like that.
Only when Juniper turned toward Brian did I realize I was still looking at her.
“I think we can go bigger,” Juniper said. “I mean, this is an epic, right?”
“I’m actually wondering if you can try a little more insular, Juniper. A little more reserved. He wants what you have.”
“Sure, but he’s not smart enough to get it,” Juniper said. “I’m not worried about that just yet, am I?”
“You’re a little worried, maybe,” Brian said. “Just try it.”
And she did. As she became protective, I became more conniving, more intent on unlocking Agrippah’s affection.
Now when I said, “Surely Her Majesty knows she is beautiful,” and she said, “I surely know that men believe so,” it seemed like we were jousting rather than flirting.
But I still felt, as they say, in character.
“That was great,” Brian said.
“Incredible,” added Valentina.
“It didn’t feel too quiet?” Juniper asked.
“Not at all,” said Valentina.
“Maybe a little,” said Brian. “I wonder if you can show us what she wants.”
“What she wants,” repeated Juniper.
“What Agrippah wants from Gavinth. If you can show us that a little more nakedly. If that makes sense?”
“That makes sense,” Juniper said, although I could hear the doubt in her voice.
And so we went again, and now I could feel her aggression.
She stepped toward me this time as she said, “I surely know that men believe so,” and I felt somehow small, only eking out my next line: “In this, if nothing else, men are wise.” And she seemed only to grow as she said, “Indeed, in that, and nothing else.”
“Wonderful,” Brian said. “Brilliant. Kai, I love how you roll with her, and Juniper, I love how you know you’re the Queen. It’s great. Valentina, Nina?”
“I think we can move to the next scene,” Nina said.
“We’ve got great options.” And so we moved to the other scene, later in the movie, when I’m beginning to chafe at the servile role I’d earlier accepted.
I started that scene with, “Am I a handmaid to you?” and Juniper paused a long time—so long I was pulled out of it and thought she might’ve forgotten her line—before she said, “No, my dear, handmaids…are…critical. You are my husband.”
“But am I not critical to the Realm?”
“Every citizen is critical to the Realm. Each has duties to fulfill. Even I have duties to fulfill.”
“I do not wish to be just another citizen of the Realm,” I said.
“And I do not wish to have the responsibilities of a Queen, but here we are, my love.”
“Am I?”
“Are you what?” she asked, clearly done with the conversation.
“Your love,” I said.
She surprised me then with a kiss, a quick one on the lips, and a little patronizing. “Of course you are my love.”
“And you are my love,” I said, surprising myself by kissing her back. But she pulled away quickly and smirked. “Ah, but no,” she said. “I am your Queen.”
“Can we try it without the kissing?” Brian asked.
“Sure,” I said, and we did, but it wasn’t as good.
We ran it a few more times—in moments it felt like Juniper was too attached to her power, and I too smarmy in my pursuit of it.
Brian could sense it, too, and he talked us through options.
With Juniper and the table between us, I didn’t mind Brian.
He did manage to make me feel like I was doing something more than being in a dumb fantasy movie, like I was after something universal and important.
By the fourth time we ran it, I wanted to keep going, just so I could stay in the world with Juniper, stepping back as she stepped forward.
But soon it was over, and I was back in the reception room, and the earbuds were back in Juniper’s ears, and I was walking past Charles Oldham, who told me to have a good one bro.
Outside, I called Bob and started walking. He picked up on the second ring. “How’d it go, kid?”
“I don’t know. But Juniper makes it easy.”
“I’ll call you the second I hear something. I’m sure they loved you, kid. I gotta go.”
I walked a few more blocks before I got an Uber.
I could’ve gone anywhere, of course—to a museum or a movie or the opera or whatever—but I just went back to the hotel and ordered room service lunch and watched TV.
All the networks were covering the fire.
There wasn’t much to say about it—it was raging and people were trying to stop it from burning down buildings—but they managed to keep talking about it nonstop anyway, and I managed to keep watching.
It was past one when Bob called me. “It’s you or Charles,” he said. “I think there is some internal debate. The director loves you. Nina loves you. I think we’re on a journey to make sure the studio loves you. Todd is on the fence, and his boss…well, Charles has experience. He has a name.”
“Right, I get that.”
“Did you know he has fourteen million Instagram followers?”
“I did not.”
“The studio salivates over that shit. They love a number. Juniper only has four million. That’s what Todd told me. Only four million. Christ. You are basically dead on social is what I hear.”
“So it’s me or Charles.”
“Yeah. This one might not go our way. It’s the studio that makes the decision. I’m having Kathryn call Todd’s boss. That might help. And Matthew has already made a pitch for you. Juniper will have some say. You should call her.”
“And say what?”
“Tell her you want to spend six months in fucking Vancouver with her. If there’s one thing that’s obvious, it’s that she wants to fuck the living daylights out of you.”
“She’s an actor. It’s acting.”
“I’m just saying,” he said. I really hated when Bob said shit like that, because it reminded me that he thought shit like that.