Page 2 of Method Acting

She paused again. Her smile made me nervous.

“We’ll be live streaming!”

Wow.

Well, it was exciting and daunting, and then Deirdre started running through roles. Director of photography, assistant director, unit production managers, script continuity, camera operators and grips, picture and sound editors, and people around the room began to buzz as they got the roles they clearly wanted.

And then came the eight leads.

A quick glance around the room told me the eight remaining people were seniors, all of us theater majors, me included. Admittedly, we didn’t have a huge class...

But damn.

I was one of the eight leads.

Everyone was split off into their preproduction groups, leaving Deirdre with the eight of us. She handed us each a manila folder. “Phoebe and Jess, you’re the best friends.”

Phoebe and Jess both squealed, excited.

And then I looked at the others and began to do the math.

“Max and Holly,” Deirdre said. “You’re couple number one.”

And the math wasn’t mathing . . .

“Tucker and Didi, you’re couple number two.”

Aaaaand there it was.

Deirdre smiled at me. “Chase and Amos, you’re couple number three.”

Amos and I. . .

I turned to Amos and he looked as stunned as me.

Could I be his on-screen boyfriend?

It was all acting, right? It was no different pretending to be the boyfriend of Amos or Didi or Holly. I didn’t know them, or have any interest in any of them on any personal level, so gender made no difference. Right? Don’t get me wrong, this was not a he’s-a-guy thing.

I was bi. I’d been with guys before. I was not opposed to dick, mine or someone else’s.

But Amos Beddington?

He was reclusive and broody. Tall, lean, longish dark hair and dark eyes. He idolized James Dean. He’d even done a re-enactment of Rebel Without a Cause for his final last year. I mean, he’d done it well, and he did have that natural X factor that most actors could only dream of...

“Is this going to be a problem?” Deirdre asked, looking between us.

Was it a problem?

“No,” Amos answered simply.

He said it so nonchalantly, so blasé. Like he couldn’t have cared less if he tried. With his Keanu Reeves hair and handsome face and a confidence I envied.

“Yeah, no,” I added, trying to play it off as aloof as he had. “No problem. Not at all.”

“Good,” Deirdre said. She gave us that stage-worthy killer high-watt smile. “Because we’ve got a lot of work to do. Starting now.”

Chapter Two

---