“And when I say you’ve joined on, it will make the deal what much sweeter.”
“How far is this along?”
“I’ve been busy, and I wanted you to join on because you thought it was a good idea not because you thought it was already sold,” I admitted.
“You know I wouldn’t do anything I didn’t think was a good idea.” He crossed his arms over his chest and I was worried I’d offended him.
“I know but still. I wanted to sell you on it.”
He nodded. “I guess I’m extending my stay through Monday.”
A grin spread across my face. “Can you afford to?”
“My assistant director can do what needs to be done for the weekend. Most everyone is off anyway.”
“Good. It will be better to have you there.” It was all coming together.
“Where’s Rachael?” Mel glanced around my office like he hadn’t noticed she wasn’t in the house before.
“Filming. They needed to fix a scene they found an issue with in post-production.”
“You didn’t go with her?” I felt like my excuses were Swiss cheese and if Mel saw through me already, maybe everyone else would too.
“No, I was taking care of this. It’s just for a few days.”
“Do you really have the time in your schedule to go right into this?”
“Yeah, Rachael and I talked about it. She starts her new movie and I didn’t want to let this go. It’s all about timing. She’ll be finishing up by the time we go to film and she can come up to Vancouver when she’s done.”
He nodded, satisfied. Maybe I could do this. Maybe I could carry the secret that was slowly killing me. If I didn’t say it out loud, it wasn’t real.
Two
HALE
Auditions were brutal. Actors and actresses were herded like cattle into a small room and we waited to be called to our death or close enough, to read lines and be judged. Not only were they awkward, because you have no idea what casting directors really want to see, but you also basically stand in front of judgmental people and make a fool of yourself for a living. It’s a good thing I loved my job because I couldn’t say ‘hey pick me, I’m better than all these people’ as it was frowned upon. Or so my agent told me. If an audition went well, your agent got a call, if it didn’t they don’t. For us unknown people, if we’re lucky, we survive on scraps like commercials and playing an endless stream of dead bodies. If we’re really making it, we get a three-part reoccurring role on NCIS. This was the day in and day out process and it wasn’t glamorous. It took as much luck as talent to make it.
I’d been lucky enough with national commercials and reoccurring roles to survive without a day job until this point, but it wasn’t pretty. I scrimped and saved, and lived in a shit apartment with three other people. There was always a thought in the back of my mind that I wouldn’t get the next gig and I’d have to start bartending again to pay the bills. This shit was looming in my brain on the way to every read and the fear was real.
This one could be something. It wasn’t huge—a side character on a pilot, but the show had already been picked up for two seasons because of Quellcrist King. He’d bought the show and was producing it himself. There wasn’t anyone hotter in Hollywood right now and since he’s playing one of the leads, as long as it didn’t suck, it was practically guaranteed three seasons at minimum. Two full seasons meant a full-time gig, and after seven years of barely paying the bills, maybe I’d get lucky.
I had to make this work. I racked my brain for a way to stand out in my audition without making a complete fool of myself.
“You’re reading for…?” The person who I assumed was the assistant casting director said and then looked down at her sheet.
“Dante,” I prompted.
“Right. We finished up with the other roles, and you’re the first back from lunch. Sorry, my head isn’t all here.” She scanned the paper again. “Have you read the books?”
“I read the first yesterday when I got the call.”
She raised her brows. “The entire book?”
“I read fast, and I loved it.” I wasn’t blowing smoke up her ass. I did.
“So you know the arc of Dante?”
“Yes, he’s a huge piece in the puzzle and a secondary antagonist to the prince along with Sehver.”
She narrowed her eyes and looked me over again. “You look taller than your audition photos.”
“Head shots are deceiving, even full body ones.”
“How tall are you?”
“Six foot four,” I said. This was all the usual type deal. We were assessed for more than our acting. Casting directors scrutinized body type, did we fit the role, and our presence in front of the camera. I’d made sure to hold myself like the character would from the moment I’d walked into the room. Sometimes decisions were made in the first thirty seconds.
A dark haired woman came up to us while I was getting questioned. “Let me have this one.”
The assistant casting director turned to the newcomer. “Why?”
“I have a feeling,” she said like she was in charge.
The assistant casting director shrugged. “If you want. Are you going to bring him back?”
“I doubt it, but I’ll let you know.” She turned to me. “I’m Ella. Come with me.”
Fuck. Did this mean they didn’t think I fit the part? They didn’t even want me to read? I was twenty-four years old, maybe it was time for me to get a real job.
Ella led me into another room and walked up to the fucking director. Melone. He and Quell went way back.
“This guy is auditioning for Dante but look at him,” Ella said to Melone.
Melone put a hand over his mouth. “You’re right. Take him into the other room.”
And Ella dragged me into another room before I knew what was going on. Turned around entirely, I followed her and when we stopped, I nearly fell over. There stood Quellcrist King, and his name gave away his presence. He was the king of the room. I wondered if it was a stage name or if his parents had some type of foreshadowing. I did believe people grew into their names, and names had a profound effect on what a person would become.
“You’re going to have to get used to him at some point, quit staring.” Ella elbowed me in the side.
“I’m like a deer in headlights over here and you’re laughing at me?”
“Just a smidge.” She held up her thumb and forefinger.
“You love this don’t you—torturing poor starving artists?”
“It does make my day go faster.” She smiled over at me. “I like you already. You’ll do fine.”
“If by ‘fine’ you mean ‘bumbling idiot who doesn’t know what to do with my hands?’” I put them by my face, making my eyes big.” My agent had not prepared me for this.
She glanced over at me. “You would have figured they taught you how to use your hands in acting school at the very least.”
“Well, they didn’t. I’ll be writing letters.”
“I’ll be sure to snap some photos you can send with those letters.”