Page 24 of Marisol Acts the Part
When I finally glance up from my script, my eyes instantly find Jamila, standing off to the edge of the crowd surrounding the set. She gives me a wide smile and a double thumbs-up once she catches sight of me. The tension in my chest loosens as I meet her smile with one of my own. My hands are still trembling as I give her a thumbs-up back, but the world around us doesn’t feel like it’s spinning off its axis anymore.
“I thought you said you’ve done this before?” Dawn pipes up from her seat beside Jamila.
My stomach drops, all of the nerves Jamila’s vote of encouragement quashed rushing back. Dawn’s expression is bored, and her own script hangs limply in her hand. Most people I’ve met in this industry aren’t nearly as intimidating as they seem on-screen. Dawn, however, is the exception.
“I—I have,” I stammer out, wishing she didn’t throw me off my game. “I’m just…”
Terrible at memorizing lines?
“Let’s take it from the top,” Rune announces after what feels like barely any time, saving me from having to finish that thought.
Dawn’s lips twitch into a smile that doesn’t feel kind, while Jamila shoots her a look that isn’t very nice either. I hand back Rune’s script and take as many deep breaths as I can while everyone gets back into position.You can do this,I tell myself, screwing my eyes shut and blocking out the world for a few more seconds. In the darkness, I hold on to the warmth that spread through me when I smiled back at Jamila. The same way I’d felt whenever I met Miles’s gaze from across set onAvalon Grove,knowing he was watching me. The comfort of knowing someone wants to see you shine.
It’s not perfect. I make it through most of the scene without issue but stumble on my last few lines, combining the edited version and the original version into an unintelligible mess. We do another take, and another, and another, until the lines come to me as naturally as breathing. If you’d told me three weeks ago that I’d be able to perfectly recite my lines after having them changed seconds before filming started, I never would’ve believed you.
I guess anonymous commenters weren’t the only ones downplaying my acting abilities.
We’ve done well over a dozen takes of the scene before Rune finally calls cut for good, giving us a “great job” before the crew gets to work setting up for the next scene. I’m able to sit the next one out while Jamila takes my place in Miles’sbedroom. I breathe a sigh of relief when Dawn stalks off toward crafty as soon as I sit down beside her.
Jamila’s outfit for the scene—a pair of sunflower-patterned overalls and a white crop top—is a stark contrast to my own devil-red bodycon minidress. It’s odd, watching someone play the role I’ve played for years. The sweet, bubbly girl who wants the best for people. And Jamila plays it well, her posture morphing as soon as she steps onto the set. She holds herself with a certain lightness, a new bounce in her step as she twirls a finger through one of her curls. Part of me wonders if this would feel easier if I were playing her part instead. Something that feels more familiar, even if the tone of the show is a far cry from what I’m used to. But that defeats the purpose of why I’m here: to try something new.
Like earlier, Rune approaches Jamila and Miles with his crumpled script in hand, briefly showing them the tweaks he made before returning back to his chair.Unlikeearlier, Jamila and Miles fly through the scene without a single hitch. It’s such a flawless first run that Rune even gives them a round of applause in congratulations.
“Fantastic, you two. Let’s run it a few more times.” He murmurs excitedly to the executive producer on his left, unable to hide his excitement like a giddy toddler.
I can’t even be mad at myself for my stumbling performance while watching Jamila and Miles on-screen. They’re so captivating together, they pull the entire focus of the room. The usual subtle shuffling and clacking of laptop keyboards dies down completely, so silent you could hear a pin drop as everyone cranes their necks and stands on their toes to get a peek at Jamila and Miles.
It’s one of the first few scenes of the pilot, focusing on Miles’s character in the hours after his family’s funeral. One that’ll be sure to reel viewers in—especially when it comes to setting up the blossoming love story between Miles’s and Jamila’s characters.
“I don’t know. It feels like everyone hates me,” Miles says, nearly on the verge of tears, wiping at the corners of his eyes as he gazes at the tastefully photoshopped photo of him with his “family” on the nightstand.
Jamila tentatively reaches for him, her hand hovering in midair for a moment before finally resting on his arm—and like during the read-through, I can hear sparks ignite when he turns to face her. “I could never hate you.”
The two of them have a natural chemistry, not afraid to get closer than they need to, or let their touches linger. They fit together like puzzle pieces, communicating with their eyes like they’ve known each other for years.
I can already see the flurry of tweets, comments, and posts fans will make about them as they wrap their second run-through of the scene. There’s no world in which the internet doesn’t latch onto them—both the characters, and the people behind the roles. I’d seen it for myself with Jolia, then again with the M&Ms shipping me and Miles. He and Jamila are the type of couple people will instantly fall for—on- and off-screen. They even have plenty of adorable ship name options. Jamiles, or, the better option, in my opinion: Mila.
The smart thing to do would be to go over my remaining scenes while the two of them film, but much like a car crash or a terrible reality TV show, I can’t look away. The tension between their characters burns hotter and hotter with everytake, building until it feels like they’re moments from throwing the past aside andfinallykissing when Rune calls cut one last time.
“That’s the one!” Rune exclaims, giving the two of themanotherround of applause that the crowd—myself included—eagerly joins.
Both of their cheeks flush as they humbly wave down the applause, thanking Rune before stepping off the set and letting the crew reset for the next scene.
“You were incredible,” I say to Jamila as she passes me. Shyly, I glance over at Miles. “Both of you,” I add when his eyes meet mine.
Angry as I am with Miles for not giving me the respect of a private breakup, that doesn’t erase the almost four years I spent loving him. I still care for him now, and maybe I always will. And today, I’m really damn proud of him. No one knows how hard he worked for this role like I do, and even if this show is what ultimately led to him dumping me in the first place, I can’t shake off the pride of seeing him absolutely crush it the way I always told him he would.
“Thanks, Mari,” he replies with a smile that brings me back to the early days of our relationship. The bashful compliments after every scene, the cautious hugs, our arms around each other. Something shifts in his eyes, his lips parting slightly, and I wonder if he feels it too. The pull of our shared past.
“You were great too,” Jamila adds, disrupting my nostalgic fantasy.
Which is definitely for the best. I’m not here for Miles, I tell myself as I clear my throat and straighten out the hem of my dress. I’m here for me. This isn’t about rekindling what wehad onAvalon Grove—this is about proving myself to him, to the world, to myself.
Rune calls out for quiet on set again before I can reply to Jamila’s compliment. The two of them take their seats in the chairs beside me, their names monogrammed on the backs, and let the adults playing our parents take the lead for a bit. We spend the morning knocking out a dozen more scenes—capturing several takes of each until Rune is satisfied.
Before beginning each scene, Rune, without fail, makes his line adjustments. It’s comforting that not everyone adapts to the sudden changes as easily as Miles and Jamila did. Even some of the more seasoned actors stumble, Dawn included, easing my worries that I’m the lone disaster of the cast.
“Dawn, take ten and restudy the script,” Rune calls out to her, and I resist the urge to whisperYouhavedone this before, right?to her as she stalks past me in a rage. I’m not a petty person—most of the time—and as stuck-up as she might seem, I definitely don’t want to be on the bad side of a Hollywood golden child like her.
