Stars in Your Eyes(23)
“You really don’t care that Riley’s a guy?”
“Why would I?” Her smile is warm. “Do you love him?”
“Yes.”
“Does he love you?”
“I think he might.”
“Then that’s all that matters.” She even has tears in her eyes. My mom half stands and wraps her arms around me. I let myself think that she really is my mom, saying the words I’ve always needed to hear. I swallow. It’s hard to keep the tears from coming. I roll my eyes. It pisses me off, it really does, that I feel so sorry for myself. But it doesn’t stop the dramatic, lone tear from rolling down my face.
Dave’s voice echoes. “Cut!”
I wipe my face with a palm impatiently. Monica purses her lips as she sits back into her chair. “You wet my shirt, Gray.”
“Sorry. I’ll try to aim my tears better next time.”
She glares at me. Monica doesn’t like many people. Bitter, I think, that she never got her due as an actress with so much talent. I try not to take it personally.
Dave ambles over. “That was pretty good. Possibly a little melodramatic, though.”
“I agree.”
“Let’s try another take.”
I nod. Monica and I run our lines again, and though I feel emotion well up, I try to feel more comfortable with her. Trust that she really means what she says. Envision that maybe, one day, I could have someone like her in my life. Someone who cares about me, even when I mess up. The smile I give is genuine this time. Dave says that was the better take. Rare to see a smile on my face, I guess.
*
Monica and I are finished for the day, so I’ve got my next scenes with Matt. When I’m leaving set, I see him with the stylist, who is giving instructions to the assistants. But Matt’s gaze is on me. He realizes I’ve caught him staring. Again. He practically jumps and turns away, blushing. Interesting. Okay.
Same set, different scene, much earlier in the timeline of the story: I’ve invited Riley over to discuss the project we’re being forced to work on together. I don’t love him yet, but by this point, Riley and Quinn have a good amount of sexual tension. We constantly fight about the book’s direction. Riley considers himself to be commercial, popular, more of a guilty pleasure sort of romance writer, whereas Quinn is a snob about his craft and writes literary books that win a shit ton of awards but almost no one reads or buys. When we’re both done with hair and makeup, cameras in position and sound ready, I lean against the counter while Matt awkwardly stands in the middle of the kitchen, looking out of place and uncertain. Not sure if he’s just acting that one.
This is the first scene we’re shooting alone, just the two of us together. It made sense production-wise, but it’s taking a second to adjust to what I’m supposed to be feeling about him. Condescension. Frustration. Attraction, and anger that I’m attracted to him.
Matt isn’t exactly my type. He’s shorter than me, with a smaller frame. I usually go for guys like Briggs: taller, bigger and stronger, a jerk in and out of bed. Mattie is unbearably wholesome. Like a live-action version of some cartoon character that’s filled with an overwhelming amount of innocent joy. Some people just don’t have any childhood trauma, and it shows. I’d feel like I’m dirty, somehow, if I even considered fucking him.
Mattie takes a deep breath and gathers this look of determination. Something tells me he’s struggling, too. Trying to find even an inch of attraction for me. Organic chemistry can be hard to get on-screen, but I’ve always been good at setting aside my own feelings. Just pretend it’s Briggs, standing in the kitchen with his arms crossed, smirking down at me.
“Take one. Action!”
“Commercial is always better,” Riley says. He gestures in frustration. Unnecessary hand movement. I haven’t seen Riley gesture in many of the scenes I observed before this one. “What’s the point in writing a book if no one is even going to read it?”
I sneer. “So you’re willing to forgo your dignity for a few extra reads?”
Riley glares. “Try a few extra thousand. I’m a bestselling romance author for a reason.”
This hits a nerve. Quinn works hard and is particular about his craft, but he hasn’t hit any bestseller lists before, something that he’s wanted for some time now. “I’m not going to become a sellout and write the sort of book everyone will like just to hit the bestseller list. I have my craft to think about.”
“There’s nothing wrong with writing a book that people will enjoy.”
There we go. Mattie’s getting into it now. Leaning forward with some softness. I glance at his mouth. I hadn’t planned it, but he’s biting the corner of his lip again, waiting for my response. No, Matt isn’t anything like Briggs or anyone else I’ve invited into my bed before. But I wonder how fun that could be. Figure out how to make golden boy squirm. I smirk. He stands straighter, clenching his jaw. That’s one thing you learn when you’ve acted for most of your life. Energy is real. Feeling what another person is feeling. Matt’s looking at me like he straight up saw the image that flashed through my head.
“Sure,” I tell him. “Because no one enjoys reading my books.”
He swallows. “I didn’t say that.” Pause. “I didn’t mean to say that. I’m sorry. But, well, there’s a reason Jake Powers asked us to work together on this one.”