Page 46 of Marisol Acts the Part
There’s a general air of unease when he interrupts. Producers and PAs on the edge of their seats as he storms over, his heavy steps echoing in the dead-silent room.
Walking straight up tome.
I flinch, not sure what I’m bracing myself for—a shout, an insult, a tackle to the ground—but preparing myself. And yet, nothing can prepare me for Rune closing the distance, leaning down until his face is pressed inches from my neck, and inhaling deeply, sniffing me like he’s a dog searching for a bone.
What. The. F—
“It’s you,” Rune murmurs, interrupting my confused line of thought. “That perfume you’re wearing has been giving me migraines all morning.”
“O-oh” is the only thing I can think to say as I reach up to cover my neck with my hand, as if that can cover up the scent of Chanel’s Coco Mademoiselle. “I—I’m sor—”
“Go wash it off,” Rune instructs, cutting off my apology. “Don’t come back until it’s gone.”
His voice is as strong as a shove. Not a shout, but something somehow worse. Something laced with anger, and disgust, and worst of all: disappointment.
“Okay,” I manage to choke out, unsure what else Icansay.
Over Rune’s shoulder, Esther gives me a sympathetic frown. Even Miles looks like he wants to reach out for me as I rush off set, doing what little I can to hide my face.
The room is quiet as I weave through the crowd, bodies parting for me as I rush out. When I close the door to set behind me, I hear Rune call out for them to move on to the next scene, not bothering to wait for me to come back and take it from the top.
For once, I pray that Jamila’s not in our trailer, but of course she is. The universe just doesn’t want to cut me a break today.
“Hey. Wasn’t your scene supposed…” Jamila trails off once she takes me in, setting down her phone and carefully approaching me. “What happened?”
I don’t realize I’m crying until her fingers brush my cheeks and come back glistening. Once I see it, the tears come harder. Jamila swims in and out of view, her image broken and jumbled like I’m seeing her through a kaleidoscope. Shaking, I sit down on the edge of the couch, trying to keep my voice from cracking as I tell her everything.
“That’s fucked up,” she whispers as I finish, unable to keep myself from hiccupping as I choke back sobs. “I know he’s always been…a lot. But this is on another level.” Shepauses, biting her lip before continuing. “Maybe we should talk toEli…”
The confirmation that I’m not overreacting is encouraging but doesn’t make me feel any less likeI’mthe one who’s the problem. Rune has taken shots at everyone on set, sure, but it feels like I’ve been the punching bag of the season. From the first day I walked on set, Rune has seemed irritated by me. Not only in my performance, but in who I am as a person. I’m left constantly wondering if I’m going to get fired mid-scene. Some days are steadier than others, but on rocky days, it feels like I’m seconds away from stumbling and falling over the edge of a cliff.
And as encouraging as it was to find out Eli went through the same thing, I know we’re not the same caliber. They were the lead. Their role completely changed the trajectory of their career—made them the kind of star Miles wants to be, and I never thought Icouldbe. Rune may have been awful to them too, but they were able to come out on the other side of that experience a star. And if everything goes right, that’ll happen for me.
“It’s…” I begin, but can’t continue. My heart clenches as I meet Jamila’s eyes and see myself reflected back in them. Tired and pale and so unlike myself that it’s like staring at a stranger. “It feels like I’ve changed everything about myself to be here. My clothes, my hair, my…”My everything,I think, but can’t say out loud. “And it’s still not good enough.”
I know that sometimes I’m over-the-top and dramatic and “too much,” but I’ve never felt a need to apologize for it before or felt ashamed of the things I love most about myself. I’m willing to adapt and change, to push myself and my actingabilities for the sake of exploring new possibilities. But is it worth it if the person it makes me is someone unrecognizable? Do I really want to do this—leave my comfort zone, completely change the direction of my career—if it means I can’t be myself?
Jamila shifts closer until our knees are brushing beneath the dining table. She allows me to sob until I can’t anymore, runs a hand down my back until my wails have died down to ragged whispers. I know I’m supposed to be taking a shower or rubbing wet wipes down my neck so I can head back to set, but I can’t find it in me to stand up yet. They’ve moved on without me, anyway. I doubt anyone in that room is waiting anxiously for me.
“I know this might not mean anything, but for what it’s worth…” Jamila takes my hands in hers and, finally, they stop shaking. Tears cling to my lashes as I blink up at her, resisting the urge to hide my puffy-eyed, snot-smeared face when she’s always—always—so beautiful. But if she thinks I’m gross, she doesn’t let it show. She squeezes my hand and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “I think you’re pretty perfect already. As you are.”
In that moment, with her fingers brushing my neck where Rune inhaled and wrinkled his nose like I was a piece of rotten fruit, it’s impossible not to believe her. And impossible to deny what I have known and fought since the first time I saw her: that I’d give anything to kiss her.
Before I can linger on that thought, she loops her fingers through mine and tugs me toward the entrance to our trailer. “C’mon,” she urges when I drag my feet.
I quickly wipe off my cheeks, unsure what her plan is asshe throws the door open and guides me through the maze of trailers, crew, and crafty until we’re fully away from set and walking toward the block that overlooks the water. I’m prepared to ask her if we should be straying this far from set when we turn a corner and the water comes into view, immediately silencing all my questions and protests.
The sun has finally started to rise on the edge of the horizon, painting the sky above the East River the dreamiest shade of orange, with a hint of pink. The skyscrapers in Manhattan are bathed in soft golden light, the water so serene it’s easy to forget how green it actually is in regular daylight. I consider pulling out my phone to take a photo for my socials, but I know I’ll never be able to capture the beauty of this moment on a screen.
“Now you can cross watching the sunrise off your bucket list,” Jamila explains as she gestures to the water, reminding me of our conversation on the subway during our first week on set.
All thoughts of Rune and the way he always tears me down are gone as I smile at Jamila, torn between lingering on her or the sunset. She was right: It was worth the crack-of-dawn call time. And that she’s the best tour guide in the city—because I know this view wouldn’t be half as stunning if she hadn’t been the one to show it to me.
Chapter 16
Despite my acting background, I’ve never been good at hiding my feelings. Even if I were, I’m too exhausted by the time I get home to act like I’m anything other than irritated about how the rest of my day went. After a thorough shower to ensure I’d washed off every trace of perfume from my skin, and another round with hair and makeup, I walked back to set and spent nearly two hours waiting around before being told we’d reshoot my scene tomorrow morning instead.
I try my best to put my annoyance at Rune for wasting my time behind me as I head straight from set to meet up with Kevin at a boutique downtown. With the amateur drag competition this weekend, we need to lock down an outfit for his performance ASAP. There’s no way I’m letting my cousin make his debut in a dress he stole from the back of his mom’s closet. Shopping is the cure for all wounds, but I don’t feel my usual buzz as I stroll through the racks. No euphoria as I finda champagne sequin jumpsuit that would go perfectly with the wig I spotted at a beauty supply store down the block from my apartment.
