BENJAMIN
Was there a break-in?
LORD LUCAS
No, but I think somebody is tainting my ingredients.
BENJAMIN
Who? Why?
LORD LUCAS
There are some who believe we shouldn’t help the infected. They believe we should eradicate them to stop the spread.
BENJAMIN
Don’t let them influence you. Don’t give up on her.
LORD LUCAS
Death is the only thing that can stop me.
Seventeen
The next morning, after hair and makeup, I had some extra time, so I walked to Amanda’s trailer. “Come in!” she said after a single knock, and I stepped just inside her doorway. She was flipping through some papers, and when she looked up her hand flew to her chest. “You really shouldn’t do stuff like that when you’re in full zombie makeup. You’re going to give a girl a heart attack.”
“Says the girl who hid in my shower yesterday.”
“You’re right. I deserve much more than a casual scaring.” She studied my face for a moment. “Everything okay?”
“Ugh.” I leaned my head back against her door. “Someone here doesn’t like me and shared their feelings with Remy yesterday.”
“And Remy told you this?”
“No, I overheard them talking to him.”
“You seem to attract drama: lights falling, ripped wardrobe, missing kneepads, and now on-set gossip.” She laughed.
I started to laugh too but then stopped and walked farther into her trailer. “Wait, do you think . . . ?”
She waved her hand through the air. “I was kidding. Accidents happen. And people, don’t get me started on people. They talk trash on set all the time. They complain and whine. It’s part of being in a cast. I once worked with a girl who complained about every single person in every single one of her scenes to anyone who would listen. She thought she was the absolute best actress in the universe, and any time there was a mistake it was someone else’s fault. So take this for what it is: someone venting.”
“You’re right.” It’s the conclusion I had come to the day before too, but it felt better to hear her say it.
She held up a remote and pointed it at the television that was behind my head.
I turned to look and saw on the screen a frozen Amanda. “What are you watching?”
“I’m watching my audition. In some of Faith’s notes she mentioned how I performed in the audition, so I wanted to see what she was talking about because I didn’t remember.”
“Ooh, fun. Push play. I want to see your audition.” I sat down on the couch.
She pushed play, and we watched her standing in the room I remembered so well, delivering lines to a table full of people taking notes. It had been an intimidating process.
“What do you think about tomorrow being the day?” Amanda asked while the television version of herself was talking.
“The day for what?”
“Kissing. I’ll swing by your trailer after filming with Grant, you suggest a practice kissing session. I step in to show you how it’s done.”
“Oh yeah. Tomorrow is really the only day, considering we’re filming that scene the day after that.”
“Exactly.”
“Then yes, I think your plan will work.”
“It’s really your plan.”
“True. It’s a good one.” I pointed at the screen. “Does this have everybody’s audition on it or just yours?”
“I think it’s all of them. Want me to find yours?” She started fast-forwarding, her body on the television jerking and moving in fast unnatural movements. After her was a guy I didn’t recognize, obviously someone who didn’t end up making the movie.
“Ooh, look who we could’ve been acting with,” Amanda said, pushing play so we could listen. He had a deep, velvety voice. “He’s cute.”
“He’s okay,” I said. “Kind of old.”
“Not too old for me,” she said. “But speaking of cute guys, if Donavan isn’t your boy, why is he always hanging around?”
“Oh, I didn’t tell you he’s my tutor?”
“Really?” she said. “I would’ve done every last bit of my homework if I had a tutor like that. Dark hair, intense eyes, I don’t see why he can’t help you find your chemistry.”
“Stop.”
“What? He’s cute. It shouldn’t be that hard.”
“I’m not going to use him to help with my chemistry.”
“I didn’t say anything about using him. I’m talking about real feelings here, not fake ones.”
Maybe I didn’t know the difference, I’d been acting too long. “I can’t even conjure up feelings for a cat, maybe I’m not built to form attachments to living things.”
She rolled her entire head along with her eyes.
A familiar voice came onto the television, and I looked over to see that a new person was reading lines. A very familiar person. Before I could say anything, Amanda said, “Hey, that’s Faith.”
“Faith auditioned for this movie?” I asked.
“Apparently. Who knew.” She pushed fast-forward again. “Here, let me find yours. Are you one of those people who can watch yourself on television, or do you freak out?”
“I had a great drama teacher in high school who made us record monologues, watch them, and analyze our performances in front of the whole class.” I’d gotten used to seeing myself on a screen as well as using the opportunity of watching myself as a way to improve.
“Nice, because here you are.” She pushed play. As I watched, I noticed something: I had been more confident that day performing, more sure of myself, than I had been since actually landing the job.
“What’s wrong?” Amanda asked after a minute. “You were great.”
I must’ve sighed out loud while watching. I stood. “I better get to set before I’m late. Thanks for that. It was actually very helpful.”
Watching that audition had reminded me that I had earned this role. And I took that feeling and used it. The lights, the people, energized me today.
“You’re feeling it today,” Grant said during a break to move lights.
“I am. It’s like I remembered what I was doing.”
“You’re kind of hard on yourself, I’ve noticed.” He put his hands on my shoulders and squeezed. “Never doubt that you’re exactly where you should be.” And as if he didn’t have the ability to be nice without ruining it, he added, “Right next to me.”
I shook my head with a smile, knowing he was at least partially kidding. “You were almost supportive.”
“I’m the most supportive person I know.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
Even if I was trying to forget about the person talking about me in the hall, there was one thing they said that was absolutely true. “You’ve been in the public eye pretty much your whole life now. How do you recommend I change the online narrative of me?”
“Is it bad?”
“You haven’t seen all the things people say about me? That is, if they’re talking about me at all.”
“No, I haven’t. I only ever look up my own stuff, which hasn’t been great lately. I don’t know if I have an answer for you. Hire a publicist?”
The same thing his agent had suggested. “And if I can’t afford that? What do you think about me going to talk to that group of fans that always lines the fence holding their devotion to you on poster boards? Would that be good for me or bad?”
He shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt.”
“Do you talk to them?”
“Sometimes.”
“Would you go out there with me sometime? Maybe say something nice about me. Sign some autographs or something? Maybe they’ll post about it. Or maybe you could post something online.”
“I’d have to ask my publicist if that’s a good idea for me. I’ll let you know.”
“Right. Okay.” Did I really expect that we were good enough friends now that he would do something as a favor to me? Whatever. It didn’t matter. I’d gotten here with my own group of people supporting me; I’d keep going forward the same way. I didn’t let this affect me. I finished out my day as strong as I started it and left the set with determination to make things work.
Eighteen
The next morning, as I climbed out of my car at the studio, a car pulled to a stop next to mine, revved its engine, and then idled. I looked over to see Aaron sitting behind the wheel of his dad’s black convertible. I only knew it was his dad’s because I’d seen Remy driving it before.
I smiled. “Excuse me, sir, but aren’t you too young to be driving that?”
“My dad lets me drive it around the studio.”
“Your dad is very brave.”
“Do you want to go for a ride?”
“Your dad is much braver than me.”
“You can at least sit in it.”
“Fine.” It was a nice car. I didn’t know makes or models of cars very well but it had a tan leather interior that looked brand-new. I opened the door and sat down.
“What do you think? When I turn sixteen, he’s giving it to me. Does it seem like an old-man car?”