Chapter 14
Awesomesauce. For Best Results, Add Me
In between filming, rehearsing, and rerecording voice crap that hadn’t turned out right, I was doing interviews. Everyone was still going nuts over the whole band breakup. I didn’t really want to talk about it anymore, but talking about it gave me a chance to talk about my show—and that I did want to discuss.
Stretching out in my motorhome-trailer, I enjoyed a moment of peace and quiet while I waited to be called to the set again. There was a lot of standing around and waiting involved in this job. I hadn’t expected that. I hadn’t expected a lot of things, like pissy directors telling me I couldn’t convince an ape I was a human. He’d sent me to my trailer to “cool down,” after I’d informed him that his penis was more appropriately sized for a fruit fly than a dude. I’d even given him a friendly tip, that manscaping that shit would make it look bigger, but he hadn’t appreciated my thoughtfulness. Whatever. The break was nice anyway. My feet hurt.
I was just considering popping open a beer when the door to my trailer was knocked on. Was it time to return already? Ugh, I couldn’t yet. Maybe if I ignored them, whoever it was would go away. No such luck. The knock returned even louder. Damn it.
“Mr. Hancock? Are you in there?”
Recognizing Harold’s voice, I smiled and got up to get that beer. He wouldn’t be the one collecting me to go back on set. I had time. “Yeah. Come on in¸ Harry.”
Opening the door, he frowned as he walked inside my trailer. “I wish you wouldn’t call me that.” Like always, he was wearing a suit, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he did all day that required him to wear a tie.
“How’s it hangin’ on your side of the universe?” I asked him.
Normally he’d roll his eyes when I talked, but today he only gave me a tight smile. “Things are just fine, my friend,” he said, taking a spot on the couch. “How is filming going?”
We’d just started filming the second to the last episode earlier this week, and it was already giving me a headache. It seemed like most of my scenes involved me standing in the room while other people talked. It was a waste of my talent, if you asked me. But the writers said my silence made my speeches more impactful. Whatever.
“It’s going,” I muttered. I popped open a beer, brought it to my lips, then changed my mind and offered the bottle to Harold. He had just called me friend, after all. With a small grimace, he shook his head and turned it down. Then his expression shifted to reluctance. It was subtle, but I saw it. “Something going on?” I asked, sitting on the opposite end of the couch.
“Nothing major, but I feel obligated to tell you…LMF has decided to go a different direction with their fall lineup, but not to worry, Acing It is slated for midseason replacement. That’s actually good news for us. Some of the greatest shows in history started out as replacements.” By the smile on his face, you’d think we’d just won the lottery. I wasn’t so sure.
“They’re pushing us back? This wouldn’t be because of the crap between the writers and shit, would it?”
Harold seemed surprised that I knew about that. His face immediately settled into a carefree expression though. “Oh no, of course not. All television shows have drama behind the scenes. It helps fuel the drama happening in front of the camera. But have no fear, Mr. Hancock, the show is moving forward perfectly. It’s just a matter of time before you’re on top of the world.”
“Okay…good.” Even as I said it, I couldn’t help but think I’d already been on top of the world with the D-Bags…but not really. I’d been on top, but in the backseat. Now, I was the driver.
Once we were done filming the six episodes LMF had ordered—a feat that I had doubted on more than one occasion would ever actually happen—the really fun stuff began. Parties, parties, and more parties. Say what you will about the entertainment industry, they sure knew how to wine and dine. The fluffy schmooze coming out of people’s mouths was as consistent as the alcohol going in. And everyone I met told me how incredible I was and how amazing this show was going to be. I was in heaven.
Anna wasn’t enjoying it quite as much as me. “Again? This is the fourth party this week. I’m all for having a good time, but I’d like to spend some evenings with my family too.” She was flipping through the clothes in her closet, looking for a party dress that she hadn’t worn yet. By the look on her face, I could tell a shopping trip was in her future. Personally, I thought she should just wear what she was wearing now—a black and pink bra with matching boy shorts. Damn, she was smoking. Maybe she was right about sitting this one out…
Shaking those thoughts out of my mind, I told her, “The network wants us to go. It’s good for the show…I guess. Fuck if I know why we really need to be there. All I know is it’s an open bar.”
Sighing, she muttered, “It always is.” Turning to look at me over her shoulder, she asked, “Chelsey is going to watch the kids tonight, right? As much as I like Carl…he’s not a babysitter.”
Our enormous closet was divided down the center by a long row of dressers. As I opened a drawer to pull out some clothes for tonight, I imagined laying Anna on the top them and having some fun with her before we left. Another time maybe. “Yeah, Chelsey should be here soon.”
Anna turned back to her clothes. “Good. Remind her to keep Gibson away from Onnika.” With a long exhale, she shook her head. “I don’t know what her problem is with her sister. I asked the doctor, but he said it was just sibling rivalry.” Pulling out a tight, black dress, she turned to me with a pout on her full lips. “It seems like it’s more than that though. I mean, just the other day I caught Gibson drawing a picture of our family.”