Page 34 of Catch Me
“You’ve experienced that on the set ofLate Nights?As Shawn?” I ask, referring to his character’s name.
Surprisingly, he shakes his head. “Not quite, but close,” he answers. “It’s coming.” He looks at me and smiles, and my heart nearly seizes. “Michael wrote a hell of a script. I can’t wait to see it once it’s all put together.”
The humility in his voice endears me to him even more. As the lead actor in the film, most eyes will be on him, but he’s giving Michael Keith, the writer and director, his credit.
“This movie is going to be huge,” I say without thinking. I don’t need to see the finished product to know the outcome. The passion in Andreas’ eyes says it all.
“How do you know?”
“I’ve seen that look before,” I blurt out. “In design school, one night I was invited to a Broadway performance. We got to meet some of the actors and costume designers before the show. They all had that look in their eye, especially when they spoke about the play.”
I meet Andreas’ stare. “Two of the actors went on to win Tony’s that year, and the play won best musical.”
“Passion,” he says, his voice taking on a wistful note. “Guess you could say I have a passion for exploring the range of emotion that comes from storytelling. I never want to explore the same story over and over again.
“The goal is to test my range and push it to its limits. I think it stems from my love of reading. So many character stories piqued my interest and I want to play them all.”
There’s an evident fervor in his voice.
“A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies …” I say.
“R.R. Martin.” He smiles and then nods to a stack of books on the counter that I hadn’t noticed before.
I move to the counter and inspect the books. On top isA Dance with Dragonsby R.R. Martin, followed byThe Bluest Eyeby Toni Morrison,The Vanishing Halfby Brit Bennett,The Great Gatsby,and a few romance novels.
“This is quite a range,” I say, thumbing through the stack of books.
“My mother’s a librarian. I spent half of my childhood inside of the walls of a library. Reading became second nature.
“I like to keep some of my favorites and some new-to-me books in my trailer whenever I’m filming.”
The closeness of his voice startles me. I spin around to find him standing only a few inches away from me.
“I loved going to the library even as a teenager,” I confess. “It was one of the free moments I had to sneak away and explore the magazine section.” I laugh, thinking of the memory.
“Let me guess,Playboy?” He laughs when I playfully swat his arm.
“No, you perve.Vogue,GQ, Essence,andJetand magazines were my favorites. Our local library kept a few vintage covers. When one of the librarians found out what I was doing, shestarted holding off on putting the magazine out so that I could look through them first.”
I could spend hours thumbing through the pages, assessing the looks the stylists put together. I would read about what was in during a certain season or why a designer chose the designs they picked for a spread or a certain look.
“My aunt was a seamstress in New York, and when she visited we would talk about the latest fashion trends. She’d take me to the library so we could look through the magazines together. I?—”
I cut myself off from talking about how I started collecting, especially vintageJetandEssencemagazines, soon after my aunt died.
“You, what?” Andreas asks.
The memory of my mother’s hands snatching my most treasured magazine out of my hand and ripping it up in my face, comes hurtling back to my mind.
“I …” I push a few strands of my hair behind my ear. “Nothing. It was a long time ago. I can’t really remember.”
“Ivy.”
The softness in his voice is what makes the water already gathering in my eyes threaten to spill over. But there’s a knock.
“Andreas, we’re ready for you in five,” a male voice calls through the door.
Andreas curses. His hands are on my arms, turning me to face him. “I have to go.”
