Page 50 of Steamy on Set

“You really think you did nothing wrong? Do you ever own your shit?”

“Do you?” I ask, spinning on my heels. “Or did you just find someone else to blame now that I’m gone?”

My words register with her, and she at least has the decency to look guilty even if she tries to hide it. Having not spoken since our friendship dissolved, all the words are heavy between us.

“Whatever, why am I surprised?” She turns to walk away.

A harsh laugh breaks past my lips at her remark and the nerve she has.

“I guess this is another reason for you to think I’m a bad person.” I try to keep the hurt from my voice, knowing damn well that it kills me that she thinks this.

“You’re right, not that I need convincing,” she calls over her shoulder.

Stuck between anger and defeat, I shuffle into my trailer, not looking back. While I get dressed, I try to get back into the mindset I was in this morning, leaving the fight as something to think about later. Excitement dances with nerves in my stomach as the time for me to be called comes near. I reread the words Errol texted me, using them to get geared up. When the knock comes, I pull my shoulders back. Walking onto the set, I lift my head, ready to face down my first scene.

“You were amazing today,” Errol says as he walks up to me at my car.

I turn to face him, throwing my bag onto the passenger seat. He is grinning like his lips are incapable of any other expression, his eyes sparkling as they look into mine. The day of filming must have gone to his head, because he seems giddier than he was at the start.

“No, you were incredible,” I say, squeezing his arm.

Watching him in his element as he took control of our direction and guided us to the perfect scene was like seeing a symphony come together. The way he conducted us through our moments was music to my ears. He was calm, engaged and authoritative. For all the talk he had about not knowing how to own a room, the way he commands one is sexy.

“I mean it Errol. Watching you work today was something else. I can honestly see how you have the career you have.” And what a career it is. Starting with some student films and directing on TV shows, his first feature length indie film opened up at Cannes to roaring success, landing him a studio one. This being his second big production, he has solidified himself as a force.

“Thank you.” He looks away, rejecting the praise like it wasn’t meant for him. Like he doesn’t deserve it. So used to his cocky demeanor, I don’t know what to do with this impish version of him. It’s like that day in the coffee room. It seems like he doesn’t actually believe in himself.

I go to reassure him again, but he cuts me off, resting his hand on my shoulder.

“What are you doing right now?”

I tilt my head to the side.

“I was going to go home and decompress from the day. Got a better offer?”

“Come get drinks with us.”

“Who’s us?”

“Some of the crew and cast. I promise it will be fun.”

With my less than popular status around here, I doubt anyone but him actually wants me to join. Even still, I could use a moment to bask in the reality that I just had my first day of filming.

“Come on.” His hand slides down to squeeze my arm.

I relent and agree to the plans. He gives me the name of the place, and we go our separate ways to take our own cars.

I see him sitting by the bar when I walk in, surrounded by familiar faces of people I have gotten used to seeing every day. I also see the newer ones of the actors I filmed with today. Michael, who plays the lead role of Dante, waves at me as I slide in to order a drink.

“Hey Farrah.” He moves in next to me, resting his hands on the wood.

“Hi.” Turning to face him, I can’t help but notice he is all the hotness and glamor of a leading male actor wrapped up in a brown skinned package. Every time he shines his megawatt smile in my direction, I try to keep my wits about me. I don’t always succeed.

“I heard this is your first movie.”

The bartender walks over just as he says it, so I quickly turn and put a drink order in. With a look back at him, I nod in agreement.

“Well, you could have fooled me,” he says.

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