Stars in Your Eyes(18)

“I don’t.”

I know what he’s said in interviews, but…“Why?”

“Craft is a set of rules made up by people who want to gatekeep what is technically good and what is not. If they get to have the power to decide what’s good, then they have the power of who makes it in this industry. Not a shocker that we’re surrounded by a bunch of white men, right?”

“I’ve always thought craft was more like guidelines,” Matt says. “Take it or leave it. Do what works for us individually.”

“What works for you?”

He gives a self-conscious smile. “Personalization. I know, it’s a little expected.”

“Yeah, well.” I eye him for a second. “You need to have lived experiences to pull from, for personalization to work.”

He meets my gaze. “Why would you assume I don’t have any experiences?”

Because he’s so innocent. He’s a fucking cinnamon roll. “Tell me. What’ve you experienced?” I add, before he can speak, “Start with romance.”

“Why there?”

“I need to know what you’re like as a boyfriend to be more convincing.” Also, I’m nosy as fuck.

He shrugs, but seems embarrassed. “I’ve never actually had a partner.”

I squint at him. I have the feeling that there’s more to the story. “But you’ve been on dates, right?”

“Here and there.” He seems nervous.

“Have you had sex?”

His eyes glint. He’s pissed off. “Is that any of your business?”

I watch him. Funny enough, I get the feeling that he’s had sex before. A lot. I recognize the typical way he won’t meet my eye, like he’s flustered and ashamed and trying to hide the fact that he’s had a shit ton of casual sex and one-night stands. Interesting. He isn’t the innocent golden boy everyone thinks he is. That just makes me more curious.

Matt looks away, arms crossed. “There was this one guy that I was casually seeing for a while, but it never really went anywhere. I’ve just been too busy, you know? With the filming and everything.”

“Bullshit.” I take a sip of bourbon.

“What?”

“That’s bull. That’s what everyone says when they’re scared to date. I’m busy.” I snort.

His expression is tight. “Tell me more about you, then. Why were you in a fake relationship with Willow Grace?”

“She needed the publicity, and I wasn’t working yet. We both got some spotlight out of it, and then I was cast in this film, so I guess it worked.”

“Any real relationships?”

“Nope.” I smile. “Unlike you, I have the time. People just can’t fucking stand me.”

Matt sits straighter in his seat. The waitress returns with his fries. “Thanks,” he says with a smile at her that makes her turn even redder. When she’s left again, he plays with a fry like he doesn’t plan on eating. The food here sucks. “I want to challenge you a little, if you don’t mind.”

Okay. Also interesting. “Fine.”

“You say people can’t stand you, with this tone like—I don’t know, you can’t do anything about it. But you can. You could change your behavior, if you wanted to.”

“You know that Riley saving Quinn is just supposed to stay in the film, right?” That trope has always annoyed the hell out of me. No one can save another person.

“I don’t think you’re as much of a jerk as you pretend to be. I think it’s another role that you choose to perform.”

“Oh, really?” Another sip.

“I saw you helping out that assistant,” he says. “Andrew.”

“I didn’t realize you really were a stalker, Mattie.”

“You’re a lot kinder than anyone would think, when you want to be.”

“Emphasis on when I want to be,” I say. “I don’t want to be kind very often.”

“Why not?”

“What’s with the twenty-one questions?”

“I think it’s so that you don’t have to worry about anyone getting close to you. It’s your defense. That’s what I think.”

I spin my bourbon around in my glass. He’s right. I’ve already discovered all of this on my own. It’s the mask that I choose. It’s a little annoying that he would judge that choice with a steady, holier-than-thou gaze.

“You’ve got a guard, too, right?” I say. “Too busy to date. Focus on your work. Try so hard to be perfect. Maybe you’re not in a position to judge.”

Matt’s voice is lower. “I’m not judging you.”

“Sure.”

I drain my bourbon and think of ordering another one. Matt eats a fry. He gives me a quick smile. “We’re supposed to be having a good time. Sorry. I got a little too serious.”

“That’s all right. We’re actors. We analyze other people.”

“True.” His smile widens. “I know that we haven’t gotten off on the right foot, but—well, I wanted to say I’m grateful to be working with you.” He looks away awkwardly. “I—uh—admire you a lot. As an actor, I mean.”