12. Ben
12
Ben
A fter escorting Willa to her hotel room, I stride down the dimly lit hotel hallway towards my own room. I'm accompanied by one of the hotel’s security guys. The plush hotel carpeting muffles the sound of our footsteps, which makes the sudden ringing of my phone seem even louder and more disruptive. Transferring my rolling suitcase from my right hand into my left, I dip into my jeans pocket for my phone.
“Hey Dad. Hold on a sec, will you?”
Jamming the phone between my ear and shoulder, I slide the key card into the hotel room door and turn towards the security guard, dismissing him for the night with a murmured goodbye and a polite wave. Since our driver is picking Willa and me up at the butt crack of dawn tomorrow, I don’t plan on leaving my room tonight.
“Hi, Ben,” my dad’s gravelly voice, much like my own, greets me. “We haven’t heard back from you yet about the holidays, so I wanted to check in. You get your mother’s voicemails? She’s left you several.”
“Yeah, Dad, I did.” I drop my luggage inside my suite, letting the door slam shut behind me. “I’m sorry I forgot to respond. My life is crazy right now. I have two movies opening in December, and another one in the can. ”
“In the shitter?”
“No, Dad.” I can’t help but chuckle. You can take the man out of Texas, but you can’t Texas out of the man. “In the can means that the filming and editing of the movie are complete and it’s ready for release next year.”
“Why didn’t you just say that then?”
“Okay, Boomer,” I kid, stealing a joke from Carlisle. “Anyway, with my current schedule, I doubt there’s any way that I can come home for Christmas. I don’t have my schedule in front of me, but I have a ton of publicity going on in December.”
“What about Thanksgiving, Ben? It’s next week.”
Sighing, I rub my hand through my short hair. My dad isn’t going to let me off the hook easily, not after I missed spending the holidays with them for the past two years. “I’m not sure about Thanksgiving. If I can make it, I’ll only be able to slip away for a day or two.”
“Try, son. It means a lot to your mother to have you home at the holidays. Especially since–”
“I know, Dad,” I cut him off before he can continue. There is so much left unsaid between us, but I don’t have the energy or desire to get into it now. I can’t fault my parents for the untenable situation they’re in, and it sucks that they’re caught in the middle. “Will Cole be there?”
“He will be. Your mother misses you so much, Ben. She loves you too. It would mean a lot to her to have both her sons under one roof for Thanksgiving.”
Now that my dad’s guilt trip has been properly laid, he gets off the phone after eliciting a promise from me that I would try to make it to Austin for Thanksgiving. I toss my mobile onto the bed and open the minibar. I think I’m entitled to a finger of whiskey after that conversation. Maybe even two. Or three.
After an hour of styling, including hair, make-up, and wardrobe, Willa and I are seated next to each other in comfortable teal velvet club chairs on the set of Good Morning, USA . During the commercial break, staffers float around us, attaching our mikes, applying a final dusting of powder, and adjusting the lighting and camera angles until it’s time for our segment to shoot.
Willa and I exchange glances and begin whispering, psyching each other up for the interview, even though we both feel like shit from lack of sleep and overindulging in yesterday’s bottle of champagne. And whiskey, in my case.
God, I forgot about the wine we drank at dinner too.
I catch the Good Morning, USA co-host, Samantha McGriffin, watching Willa and me over the flashcards she’s thumbing through. Sending her a brief smile, I concentrate on slowing my breathing and heart rate to help clear my mind. It’s time to sweep the cobwebs from my brain and turn on my public persona. I might feel a wee bit hungover and off my game, but I sure as shit can’t act like it.
Leaning towards me, Willa places a swift kiss on my cheek and murmurs, “Thanks again for listening to me yesterday, Benji.”
“Anytime, Pipsqueak.” Smiling, I reach over and give Willa’s hand a squeeze, which she returns. Instead of letting go, she threads her fingers with mine and holds onto my hand like it’s her lifeline. When I glance down at our conjoined hands, I notice her knuckles are turning white. It's obvious that Willa is still grappling with her emotions from yesterday.
“Thirty seconds to air!” An associate producer yells as morning show employees make snappy last-minute adjustments before returning to their places out of camera range.
“You good?” I ask Willa, arching an eyebrow in her direction, concerned. “Ready for this?”
She slowly expels a deep breath. “Born ready,” she replies confidently, sending me a saucy wink and dropping my hand to fluff her hair.
Compartmentalize.
It’s one of the things we do best as actors. I can think about everything else later—my dad’s phone call about Thanksgiving, my upcoming date with Carlisle, my concern regarding Willa’s well-being, my jam-packed schedule over the next month. There’s time for all of it later. Right now, I shut out the noise in my brain and concentrate on nailing this interview.
As the camera rolls towards us, Samantha begins her introductory monologue staring directly into the camera. “Good morning, USA. Thank you for joining us. I’m here today with Willa Radford and Ben Sutton, the stars of the new movie, Captain Commander , which opens nationwide on December 10th. In this suspenseful film, our favorite superhero fights to save Earth from an impending nuclear attack from an alien warship.” She turns her attention away from the cameras and faces us. “Ben, you play the superhero Captain Commander. How different was this role as compared to ones you’ve played in your previous films? This is your first action movie, right?”
“Yes, it is, and the preparation was vastly different. Much less emphasis on dialogue and character development and a lot more emphasis on performing stunts and blowing things up,” I respond, garnering a few laughs from the studio audience.
“I read that you did most of the stunts yourself, Ben. Is that true? ”
Nodding, I answer, “It is. It was something I wanted to try my hand at, and I was surprised by how much I enjoyed that aspect of filming. It was physically exhausting, but really exhilarating. It may have turned me into an adrenaline junkie.”
“The transformation that your body went through in preparation for the role had to be grueling.” Samantha smirks and then quips, “You have to be quite buff to be strong enough to save the world.”
Forcing a chuckle, I place my clammy hands on my thighs and lean back in my seat. These live interviews always make me nervous. Playing a part in a movie is easy. The lines are written for me, but here, even with intensive media training we receive, everything is off the cuff. I pray that I don’t inadvertently say the wrong thing and fuck it all up. With it being live, there’s no room for error.
“As an actor, my appearance changes somewhat for each role. For this film, instead of changing my hair or clothing style, I had to radically change my physique. It required months of sticking to a restrictive diet and exercise regiment, so that I would be able to have the stamina to perform.” As I’m speaking, a publicity photo of me wearing the Captain Commander suit flashes onto the green screen behind us and the studio audience shrieks and claps. I worked damn hard to achieve those muscles, but their reaction to my body is embarrassing. Despite my discomfort, I add one last comment that the audience will appreciate. “And to fill out the costume properly.”
“And fill it out, you do! Doesn’t he look good, ladies?” Samantha asks the audience, which causes the audience’s screams to crescendo. I glance at Willa, silently pleading for her to jump in and end my embarrassment.
Instead, Willa only adds to it, when she interjects with a smile, "Believe me, there's no padding in his costume. That's all Ben."
I'm going to kill her later for that comment.
Luckily, Samantha moves on and begins peppering Willa with questions about her character in the movie.
As the interview is winding down, Samantha lobs a grenade our way. “Even from the trailers, I can tell that this cast has something special. The camaraderie and rapport that the two of you share onscreen is palpable, but tell me, does it translate offscreen as well?”
Whoa, going off script there a little bit, aren’t you, Samantha? This line of questioning was not part of the approved question list our publicist submitted to the morning show’s producers.
When Willa’s tinkling laughter fills the air, I realize that she’s stalling, unsure of how to respond, so I jump in to provide an answer. “Definitely,” I reply. “ While Captain Commander was the first movie that we filmed together, Willa and I have been close friends for several years. It’s safe to say that our experience on the set of Captain Commander only strengthened our bond.”
“Close friends? Just how close are you?” Samantha tilts her head, shooting the studio audience a knowing glance. “I’m not the only one who noticed you two kissing and holding hands before we started filming, am I?” The hooting and hollering amps up again.
Christ on a cracker . I hate this aspect of the press. Trying to make a story where there isn’t one.
But I recognize that this is the kind of story that sells movie tickets, so I play along.
Spreading my hands apart, I give her a lopsided shrug and a wide smile. “C’mon, Samantha. You know I never kiss and tell.”