Chapter 36
Chapter thirty-six
The Final Act
There are days when I wonder if you will ever come back. I can’t see you, feel you or hear the faint whispers of your tone. There is nothing steering me in any direction anymore.
Nope, this is all me. It is fucking terrifying.
So, in case one day you decide to surprise me, to appear out of nowhere— flipping your hair, giving me some sage advice about a path not taken…
Here are my days documented. All the days you weren’t peering over my shoulder. Cheers to not being angry anymore.
Day 1
When I called Audrey last night, her voice was groggy and it took about five minutes before she could coherently say something back to me that sounded like English. Now, I am driving to an abandoned building in a sketchy part of town to meet her.
I’m assuming this is my punishment for disrupting her beauty sleep.
Day 5
It’s been a few days of work with Audrey. So far, I must impress her because I’ve been tasked with finding a writer to help with the rewrites for the script.
“The bones of it are good. We just need some flavor.”
I’m going to get carpal tunnel with how often I am emailing and scouring the internet to find someone who has the “flavor.”
Day 25
The new writer I found is asking me to help with the second pass of the third act.
Who knew leaving annotated notes throughout a script would give such a high?
Day 40
Gabriel Eclaire has finally approved the rewrites of the script and just signed our contract to join the film.
The second Audrey told me, we just about exploded from the news. Jumping up and down in each other’s arms, girlishly screaming.
Day 41
Audrey took me out for margaritas to celebrate locking down a writer and director for the film. We have entered the “casting phase” of preproduction.
I wish I could see your audition, Skye. If my dream of you on stage was accurate, I bet you would be incredible.
Day 65
With Theo Alder signed on, a new script finalized, and Gabriel Eclaire attached to the project… we can finally shop around at production companies.
I’m tired all the time. Each day it’s basically a new crisis to resolve.
Day 80
Audrey and I are meeting up more and more for after-work drinks. I’ve never liked a boss before. Talking to her is so easy that I can say one thing in passing and she takes it seriously.
Some days it doesn’t even feel like work.
Day 100
Audrey is allowing me in the room for a few of the casting calls. A smile has been glued to my face for days.
I can’t remember the last time I had a panic attack.
Day 150
Who knew insurance and permits were the most difficult thing about the filmmaking process…
I sure didn’t. Somehow I need to set three days of shooting at a house in Calabasas, but there is no street parking allowed for production vehicles.
If there is, it is another fee. I’m ripping my hair out at this very second.
Day 190
I unblocked Aidan from social media today. The first picture I saw was him surrounded in a field of roses, on one knee at his family home in the Hamptons.
I downed a whole bottle of Josh red cabernet. I’m not even angry, just a deep-seated irritation settling in my stomach the longer I look at it.
Day 200
Holden texted, telling me he is out of his inpatient treatment program. It was only a “Hi,” but I spent the day obsessing over it.
There are so many ways to respond to “Hi.” Every response is lackluster and incapable of coming out witty.
So I do the uncool thing and never reply.
Day 250
Over a happy hour with the crew and Audrey, I may have divulged too much about Holden. Because all that is left is a spitting headache and the bad memory of me describing the styling suite kiss to everyone.
I’m mortified to say the least.
Day 300
After another lavish post of Aidan and his fiancée in Europe, I can say with absolute certainty, I made the right choice.
Our extensive travel only ever was the Hamptons.
Day 310
On the way to work, I drove past my old work building and remembered I hadn’t texted Lena in ages. Turns out she is working for On the Rise Media as of last month.
Every employee at Blackburn Press was let go. After receiving her text, I circled back to the office building and there was a “for rent” sign for the suite I used to work in.
Day 355
We just lost our lead male actor. Production starts in fifteen days. I’m not panicking…
Day 370,
Our first day of production of the film Ageless.
I ball my hand into a fist, bringing it to the door to yell, “Audrey!” several times until she answers. I tug on my necklace as the nerves of today hit me.
Even though Skye left me a year ago, the pendant has decided to not leave me quite yet. Not that I am complaining, because it’s a staple of my wardrobe at this point.
I still cling onto it when I’m nervous.
Audrey finally swings the door open, a pencil stuck in her hair and her undereyes showing her state of mind.
“Fashionably late, as always,” I say, handing her the chai latte.
“Ehh, they love the anticipation.” Audrey shimmies her shoulders before taking it from my hand.
She smacks her lips a few times after the first sip before pushing the cup in my face. “So good, want some?”
“No, I’m good. Chai has never been my thing.”
“Your loss…” We walk in unison through the video village, passing the trailers as everyone frantically runs around trying to memorize new lines.
Audrey’s creative adrenaline after a long night of cocktails has led to most of the cast panicking.
“How are you feeling?” Audrey grabs my shoulders and scans my eyes. I am puffy and exhausted, but none of that fazes me.
I let out an exasperated breath. “Good. I’m good. This is big.”
“Yes, I was hoping you would feel that way. Oh—I forgot to tell you about the recasting for the male lead. With all the great press lately we had gotten, a big name on the film to keep Fairwinds happy.”
“Okay, yeah, I was wondering what the plan was for that. Did you decide to go with my backup choice?”
“No,” she says flatly, flashing a slanted smile as we keep walking.
“I liked Theo—poor guy.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll like this guy better.” Audrey and I link elbows as we make our way to the sound stage. A chair reads “Charlotte Tate, Assistant Producer.”
“Did you know about this?” I whisper.
“Yeah, silly. Everyone important gets one.”
I jump into the chair like a little kid and situate myself in the perfect position where I can cross my legs and read my script peacefully before we start.
“T-minus ten minutes, everyone,” the PA yells across the set. Audrey and I both look at each other, buzzing. Our smiles couldn’t be wider. Before the ten minutes are up, I’m almost finished with my coffee, rereading the lines I wrote in the script.
“Alright, everyone on set,” the PA yells, and the lighting gets brighter over center stage.
“Holden, stand at marker two. Brooklyn, marker one.”
I blink a few times, trying to catch what the PA just said.
Audrey whispers, “We are starting,” when my eyes snap away from my script to see the scene play out. The whole set comes together perfectly. We are surrounded by rolling gurneys, a circular reception desk with nurses placed around the table and a bustle of extras looking sick or dying.
“Do you think you can give us one more chance?”
“Chance? You didn’t even tell me you were dying. One minute I am falling in love with you, the next you are fainting in a parking lot.”
“I know. I wanted to.” Her voice is shaky. A tear rolls down her cheek so effortlessly. No menthol stick needed.
“Tell me one thing…”
“Anything. Anything at all,” she pleads to him.
“Were you ever going to tell me?” His face is locked in on hers. Every word is sharp. His facial expressions do all the acting—the way his eyebrow arches the whole time, pupils dialed in on the monitor. Lifting the words right off the page.
I can’t believe it’s been a year since I set my sights on him. His bright green eyes. Tousled brown hair. Holden is pulling me right back in.
“Cut!” The director interjects after they stare longingly into each other’s eyes for a few moments. I find myself lost in watching him.
They both walk off set when they hear the director. Except he is walking toward me. My heart is pounding outside of my chest and my stomach is swirling into knots.
“Shit, what do I do?” I say, leaning toward Audrey.
“Talk to him. That seems like a logical first step.” She grins mischievously.
Rolling my eyes at her, I lift myself up from the chair. I step forward. My heart drums as we close the distance. I can no longer see what’s happening around me.
In a little bubble separated from the masses, I nervously ask him, “How are you feeling?”
“I should ask you, big shot. I heard you rewrote today’s scene.” Holden playfully pushes my shoulder back, letting out a smile.
“Yeah, I helped Audrey.” My cheeks are going flush with my title staring at us on my new chair.
“Don’t downplay it. It’s good,” he says, pointing to the chair.
“So, you are acting in Ageless?”
“All thanks to you…”
“Oh?” I twist my body left and right, a sneaky grin on my face.
“Audrey called me a week ago and said it was your idea. I can’t believe you remembered I wanted this script.”
“She did?” I say, hesitantly. My neck flips toward where Audrey is sitting, smiling devilishly. All I can do is shake my head at her parent trap moment.
I should’ve known my inebriated thoughts that spilled over during happy hour would cause this.
“You did really great with your lines. Everyone is going to love you in this.”
“Thanks,” he says dryly. “Can I be honest with you?”
“I would expect nothing less.”
“They offered me the movie originally, but I turned it down.”
“Why?” I demand.
“I just didn’t gravitate toward the script back then. But with the rewrites, and Audrey mentioning you are a part of it, it felt like a no-brainer.”
“You picked this movie because of me?”
“Well, you never responded to my text, how else would I get you to talk to me?”
I find myself unable to contain my smile. It takes so much effort that my cheeks hurt. We stand there, looking at each other in this unspoken silence. Skye isn’t hanging over my shoulder.
As I am about to open my mouth, the director yells, “Alrighty, back to one.”
Holden doesn’t take his eyes off me as he walks backward to his marker. I sink into my chair, giddy, and watch him captivate the room. As I hear his next line to his scene partner, I imagine I am her and he is talking only to me.
“Sorry, should’ve told you sooner,” Audrey cuts in.
“No, this was perfect. Thank you.”
I settle back into my chair, feeling the cool breeze brush past my shoulders. I haven’t seen Skye since that day on the beach, but for the first time in a year, I find the pendant glowing.
I hear the chant in my ear: “The light knows two incomplete souls. One guides the other.” I grip the arms of the chair, bracing myself for her to appear.
No figure. No flickering light. No dazzling outfit ready to blind me. Just a tan line of where my pendant was a moment ago around my neck.
Somewhere, scattered in the wind, my pendant is swept away, probably orchestrating the life of some other young soul in desperate need of redemption.