Chapter 8
Chapter eight
All or Nothing
My vision zooms in on the call sheet. Season four, episode two. It’s his name and Graham’s at the top of the schedule. From what I can remember from this episode, the two “brothers” are set to perform a fight scene.
The production assistant on set has just laid out his clothes for the morning shoot—basketball shorts and a sleeveless tank. Holden looks restless, barely aware of his surroundings.
“We have to be there by six a.m. at the latest,” says a woman who appears at his side. On his kitchen table, a fresh new coffee is set out for him.
Holden takes a large swig from his cup as the assistant rambles about the latest rumors.
“They are saying this is our last season.”
“Yeah, they said that last year,” Holden says.
“I heard it from the director.”
“You did?”
“Well, sort of. Jenny told Kim, who told Tim—your PA—who told me.”
They go back and forth for a bit. Holden playing the unlikely optimist as he assures his assistant that everything is going to be just fine.
The conversation abruptly ends when the PA pops his head back inside the trailer to remind him of his call time.
Holden is escorted to hair and makeup. When he opens the trailer door, everyone perks up at his arrival.
“Good morning, Holden,” they all said in unison as they direct him to the black chair in front of the mirrors. The table in front of him is laid out with all the products—concealer, hair gel, hairspray and even blush.
From the sidelines, I stand watching Sloane, a semi-recurring character on All or Nothing, greet Holden by tousling his hair and whispering, “Hi baby” in his right ear.
The hairstylist who finally tamed his hair into a slicked-back style looks seconds away from blowing smoke out of her ears as she watches Sloane run her hand through it.
Shaking his head, I watch him signal the hairstylist to not say a word. An unspoken agreement.
Sloane plops down on the empty chair next to Holden, extending her feet to rest on the table covered in products, running her fingers through her glacial white blonde hair, glistening with a full face of makeup already.
“So, my agent told me that I have a real shot at becoming a serious main character on the show this season. Like every episode with you guys. Isn’t that great!?”
She buzzed with the energy of a chihuahua—bouncing and gleaming with excitement.
Her fingertips make their way from her hair to his hand, begging for his eyes to look at her. My stomach drops. Were they dating at this point? I walk closer to the both of them so I can get a better look at what I’m seeing.
“I am trying to get my dad to whisper in their ears for me to become your love interest.”
He looks up from his phone. “Oh nice. I thought you were happy with your storyline?”
His voice is pitched higher than I am used to hearing. He rubs the side of his neck a few times before he finally looks up at her.
“I mean, I am, but everyone knows that being a love interest is what gets the audience’s attention. I want a career after this. Everyone already thinks I am a good girl cast as the teacher’s pet. I can’t let my acting skills solely be in that lane, you know.”
“Right…” Holden says back to her, using the same inflection he did with me earlier today, as if he isn’t quite sure he agrees with her but nonetheless doesn’t dare to say his real thoughts.
“That’s really good news,” Holden says, reassuring her with a kiss. Sloane deepens into his hold, hanging on to his lips a few seconds longer before they part.
Her body settles back into the chair next to him, reaching for the phone that is now playing “Thank U, Next” by Ariana Grande.
“Hello?”
She answers too quickly. My nose scrunches up at the sight of her sucked into her call, distracting everyone with how loud she is.
Was she always this obnoxious?
Sloane was introduced on the series midway through season two. She was well-known for her other series called The Unforgettable that ended a year prior.
She had transitioned from being the main character on that show to potentially being on theirs for a four-episode arc each season.
“Do you want to go out tonight?” Holden presses as he waits for her to answer. All she can do is point to her cell attached to her ear.
“I don’t think this will work for me. I am booked until March…” she says into the phone just before she covers the speaker, mouthing to Holden, I got to take this.
“I need four cups of espresso to get whatever she got,” Kira says as soon as Sloane leaves the chair and exits the trailer.
“I appreciate you not saying anything. I know she can be…”
“High-maintenance?” Kira fills in, adding more gel to his hair.
“She means well…”
The PA I just saw in Holden’s trailer bursts into the makeup trailer with a set of sides in hand.
“Last minute rewrites, sorry, man,” he says, tossing the pages onto his lap before bolting back out the door. Holden barely looks at them.
He only needs about twenty minutes total before all the new rewrites are perfectly memorized in his head. Holden is reciting the words out loud with ease.
And seeing it up close? I’m in awe.
An hour later, his assistant is escorting him to set and the day has officially begun for him.
Holden shapeshifts into a smart-aleck jock who never took anything seriously. They are in the middle of the episode, rehearsing a fight between Graham and him. A pivot point in the series where the two brothers duke it out over Graham not taking the sport seriously.
Fifteen takes of the same fight—Graham and Holden collapse to the ground from being shoved apart by their coach, both characters seething at the sight of each other as the camera rolls.
“I think we got it!” The director yells and they lift each other up from the ground, ending the moment between them with a smile.
A familiar woman I’ve seen in photos with him on red carpets frantically runs to him, throwing a jacket over him.
“You look cold,” she says.
“I know my own body temperature, Theresa.”
“We have been over this. We can’t afford for you to be sick.”
Staring at her side profile, she has his cheeks and nose. The freckles across their faces are identical. Even their facial expressions, side by side, look uncanny. It clicks that she is the woman in the photo I saw.
Theresa picks up the black wind breaker from the floor and lifts it back over his shoulders. This time he doesn’t move it. He wistfully accepts her gesture and marches for his chair behind the monitors.
Sitting in the chair, he watches his castmate, Graham Walker, perform the next scene. This time, the scene is between their father and Graham.
“I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t hold you to the same standard as everyone else.”
“What standard? Me, playing in the conference finals?”
“No, you peeing in this damn cup and proving to our team that you can show up.”
“I don’t have a problem.”
“Then explain this!”
The actor playing their father puts a white baggy in front of their faces. A small, pained expression surfaces on Graham’s face. The back and forth arguing spirals off script, becoming so heated that I can’t even look at them acting anymore.
“He’s amazing,” an intern says to Holden, passing him an apple to snack on.
“Yeah, he’s got it down.”
The words are flat and lifeless as he responds to her. When the intern walks away, I can see the switch.
He now looks worried.
“Do you have a pen?” he yells after her.
She nods, walking back to him, wielding one out her pocket before walking away again. He brings the pen to his script, etching notes near a few lines on the page—
Look more remorseful here.
Cry at this line.
Touch her hand and watch her a second longer.
It doesn’t take long before he has marked up the entire page of sides in red ink. Scribbling on his script and drifting back to Graham’s performance in front of him.
“Well done. Now that is how it’s done, folks.” His voice shouts to the whole cast and crew.
Graham struts off set with a perfectly engineered smile, meeting Holden’s eyes in the chair next to him.
“Good job, man.”
“Thanks. Hey, I was thinking you, me and Sloane head to Chucky’s after work.”
“If she’s free…”
“Don’t worry, man, already confirmed with her,” Graham says. Holden quietly balls up his fist on the side of his chair, nodding back.
“Awesome. Chucky’s it is!” Graham says before walking back to his chair.
I’m now feeling dizzy, standing in a room with nothing but beige walls and a few inspirational quotes hanging on them. At the front of the space, there’s a long wooden desk with stacks of paper lying on both sides.
I am transported to what looks to be their classroom, with three desks spaced out in the room. Each one reserved for the individuals working full time this week, under eighteen.
The teacher hasn’t arrived yet. Holden is so far the only person in the room. He stares at his watch expectantly as Sloane walks in. Two minutes later, Graham strolls through the doorway, settling into his assigned seat.
Sloane has yet to sit in her desk, placed between the boys.
Instead, she jumps on top of the teacher’s desk, holding out some new sides, waving them in the air.
“I got it. I will officially be a series regular starting next week.” Sloane is unable to contain her excitement.
Her feet are dangling over the desk like a little kid.
“Aren’t you excited for me?” She waves to the both of them in their chairs. They both look at each other for a second before standing up at the same time to go over and hug her. Holden embraces her first before softly leaving a kiss on her lips. I find myself looking away.
“I can’t wait to start getting paid to make out with you,” Holden says.
“Did they tell you the storyline?” Graham interjects, raising his eyebrow as if he knows something Holden doesn’t.
“Just read this.” She pulls their copies from behind her back, displaying them. I am not sure how she managed to get an early release of the next episode before everyone else…
Without question, they both go back to their desks and laser focus on the new pages. Hovering over Holden’s shoulder, I read the page he has opened.
ALLISON(annoyed, rushing the conversation)You didn’t even notice me last week…
BILLY (smiling) Of course I did. You were wearing a yellow sundress last Friday.
They exchange a quick glance, sizing each other up.
BILLY(whispering)Go to prom with me.
Billy leans in, but not quite ready to kiss her.
Holden looks up from the pages to see Graham’s sly smile. Sloane’s focus is locked in on him. The side of her lip is curved slightly, lifting into a faint smirk. The stare between them does not break. Because I’ve seen this show before, I know exactly who Holden plays—and it isn’t Billy.
This only makes Holden grind his teeth and furrow his eyebrows, unable to take his eyes off them. Before I can see more, the vision fades to black. My body is no longer watching this.
In the black void, a chant is said three times.
“Duas almas incompletas.”
“Duas almas incompletas.”
“Duas almas incompletas.”
As soon as reality sets in, confirming it was indeed a dream, the ice-pick headache hits me all at once. My necklace activates with a radiant shade of blue spreading across my neck, so bright that my whole bedroom is bathed in it.