Page 4 of The Singapore Stunt

The director says, “None of them will work for a variety of reasons. Wrong body type, height, skills, training. Remember, the action sequences are going to be close up. We’re not shooting from a distance where you can toss a wig and shoot over their shoulders. Ariana was a perfect fit for Kimberly. Two peas in a pod. Same for Xavier and Cameron.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll have a replacement for me before we hang up from this call.”

“That’s what I want to hear. Solutions.” Elliot leans his palms onto the table. “Let’s talk about the girl.”

“That woman has a name. It’s Ariana, not ‘girl’ and not ‘stunt girl.’” Xavier looks like he’s ready to rip Elliot in half, and the respect I’ve had for him on set as he prepped the team grows in leaps and bounds. Elliot is one of the most powerful producers in Hollywood, yet Xavier doesn’t cede an inch.

A defensive wave floats through me, and I lean forward on the tips of my toes.

“How long before she can be back on set?” Elliot pivots, and I bite my lip in disbelief that he has the audacity to form this sentence.

“It’ll take as long as the doctors say it will.” I speak for the first time, and the entire room goes silent. I think of my last co-star, the incredible Trace Edwards. He’s a billion-dollar box office darling, but he took it upon himself to mentor me on the ways of dealing with studio executives. I’m no longer the bashful, quiet actress cast as girl three in the crowd. “We will not compromise anyone’s health for a movie. Our stunt people already give us everything. Sweat and even blood.” I steal a glance at Xavier, who is holding his ribs yet nodding. “And we barely acknowledge them, their names hidden in a three-point font a minute and a half into the credits when most people have left the theater. The least we can do is not make them feel pressured to return to a set before they’re ready.”

“It’ll be almost a month,” Xavier chimes in. “For an injury like what she has, the recovery time is six to eight weeks. Ariana is tough. We all are. We’re athletes. She’ll be ready in four. Not a day sooner.”

Xavier gives us a definitive timeline that shuts down all conversation. “And by the way, I’ll be out three months in case anyone cared to ask.”

If Xavier is out for three months, that means his injuries are more extensive than any of us feared. Xavier is damn near superhuman. I heard on his last movie he broke a finger in one fight scene, put some skin-colored tape on, and continued working for the next two weeks before getting it treated.

“Shit,” both Elliott and Marlon say at the same time.

“We don’t have a month to wait. We don’t have the three weeks it would take to find someone else and have them train up for the part.” Marlon is already looking at the calendar, and I know what word is about to come out of his mouth before he speaks. “Singapore.”

Elliot adds, “I know. We can finish the theater sequence here in LA another time, but Singapore won’t wait. It took us six months of negotiating and contracting to get all the approvals. Hell, the head of the studio had to call directly to their government. We’re taking over one of their most iconic monuments for two days. If we lose this window, it’ll be another year before we can get it again—even if they allow it.”

“The Singapore Stunt,” Xavier says with a reverence reserved for gods and heroes.

It’s the same reverence I heard in Ariana’s voice. A climatic speculator fight scene on the roof of the Marina Bay Sands hotel and casino.

If we lose Singapore, we lose the movie. The entire project goes into a can, probably never to be revived. Hundreds of people lose their jobs.

My focus is on the only person who matters—Xavier. He’s the stunt coordinator. He knows the intricacies of the stunt. And over the last few weeks, he’s seen me on set. His is the only opinion that matters. “I can do it,” I shout and hold my breath. Xavier pushes up in his hospital bed and gives me a smirk while the rest of the room gives me a look that says I’ve lost my mind.

“You? You want to do the Singapore Stunt?” Marlon gives me the reaction I expect.

“A stunt that has never been done before?” Elliott adds.

For the first time, the lawyer looks engaged. “She can’t. It’s not covered in her insurance policy. Nor the studio’s policy. Contracts will need to be reworked. And after what happened last night, the insurance company—”

Elliot cuts him off. “We’ll take care of the insurance company.” He turns his attention to Xavier. “Xavier, am I the only one who thinks she’s crazy? Yet I didn’t hear you jump across the screen and yell at her for treating your profession as interchangeable parts. Aren’t those the words you used?”

I hold my breath. I don’t know Xavier well, but Ariana vouches for him. He’s tough and can be a hard-ass, but she’s always said he’s fair and knows his stuff.

“You guys really can’t recognize a jewel right in front of your face.” His reprimand is directed at the guys, and it sounds much like something Trace would say. “Kimberly is the only actor I’ve seen in my over a dozen years of doing this that attends every stunt session for her double. I even caught her with a notebook, taking notes back on week one. She’s a student. She doesn’t think I’ve noticed, but I’ve seen her practicing with Ariana on the back lots. I’m not saying she’s good. She’s not. She’s going to need a crash course by someone who knows what the hell they’re doing. But she’s your best bet.”

I nibble on my lower lip. Having a room full of men assess my talent is never comfortable. One day, I will own every part of my future and will no longer have to fight for every scrap a man decides to drop. I hold on to the fact that I’ve had a crash training course. Now’s not the time to reveal that tidbit. I’m not some uncoordinated, pampered starlet who’s never worked a hard day in her life. I’ve struggled most of my life. I ran track in college. I know the basics of the profession. I’m a quick study. I can do this. I have to do this.

“I can do it.” I repeat the words with more confidence in my voice than I should have.

“And your agent is okay with you doing this?” Elliot asks a question that is so rude that even Cameron looks up from his script and rolls his eyes.

“My agent works for me.” I let the words hang in the air like a boss.

Xavier chuckles and grabs his ribs. “Listen up, team. Update the paperwork. My brother is already in Singapore prepping. He’s also my double and can fill in for me. Let’s stick to the schedule. Which means we shoot in Singapore in four days.”

I’ve been in back meetings with heads of studio, billion-dollar stars, and top executives that will go down in Hollywood history, but Xavier takes control of the room as if he owns the entire damn back lot, every person listening intently and taking notes.

“Here’s what we’re going to do.” Xavier continues, and even Elliot remains quiet. “Put Kimberly on the next flight to Singapore. I’ll have my brother meet her and train her in the next few days. I trust his assessment. After three days, he decides whether you guys have a movie. Only him. Am I clear?”

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