“Okay then. I’m fucking walking.” I stand up, fully prepared to follow through.
I don’t need this job. I don’t need to be an actor. I can find something else to do if I have to. Sure, I get paid well, and being famous is pretty fun, but it’s not important to me. I’m ready to let it all go for Tara.
“Hold on,” he says before I can turn away. “How about this. You can break up with Holly when filming is over.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Why not right fucking now? If we’re not doing promos as a couple, what’s the point?”
“It’ll look bad if you break up so fast,” he says. “There’s a difference between a relationship that doesn’t work out, say, and a fucking volatile one. People will think you’re both crazy actors.”
“Who cares?” I ask him.
“Trust me on this. We want the public to see you two as wholesome people that just didn’t work out, not as crazy actors that fucked for a bit before dumping each other in the middle of filming. That’s bad news for the movie.”
I hesitate for a second. “The second we wrap, I’m done. And no more public appearances.”
“Fine,” he agrees. “Studio might leak some fake stories, though.”
“Whatever. But I’m not doing shit for this, and I’m dumping her very publically when it’s all over.”
“Fine.” He grins at me, puffing his cigar. “You really would walk, wouldn’t you?”
“Absolutely,” I say to him, before turning and leaving his office. I show myself out of his house, get into my car, and head back to my hotel room.
That’s not the solution I wanted, but it’s a good start. At least I can tell Tara that I did something. Mickey is going to be pissed but Mickey is always pissed. I’m still in the movie, he’ll still get his money.
I just hope this is enough to make Tara happy. I hope she can see that Holly means shit to me, that Tara is everything.
20
Tara
At work the next day, I’m optimistic.
Sure, I slept with Jackson in his trailer. Well, really, I had an intense and almost angry fuck session with him, but that’s not the point. Holly was at least tolerable toward me for the rest of the day, and I’m starting to think that maybe things are turning around.
Sure, I’m still confused as hell about Jackson, but whatever. I can figure that out one day down the line. I mean, I can sleep with him and not get emotionally invested, right? That’s totally possible. Absolutely. Definitely something I can do.
Except, of course it isn’t. I know myself. I’ve never been able to separate sex and emotions, but especially not when it comes to Jackson. I can’t even do it when we’re having sex. Yesterday I felt every single moment of anger and frustration come building up inside of me, even as the pleasure built up at the same rate. When I came, it was like releasing all of those emotions, flushing them away and getting rid of them. It was an incredibly emotional and a physical thing, all wrapped up into one.
So of course I’m lying to myself when I think that I can just sleep with Jackson and nothing else. I know I’m getting sucked back into his bullshit, but I have to be careful.
He’s already complicated my life more than I want. Holly seems like she’s going to tolerate me, or at least she did yesterday, but that girl is dramatic and volatile. She can explode basically at any moment. And when she does, I’m afraid I’m going to be directly in her crosshairs.
Even still, despite knowing all of that, I’m slightly taken off guard when it happens.
We’re resetting for the next shot. It’s around nine in the morning, and we’ve been shooting since six. It’s going to be a long day and everyone knows they’re in for some overtime, so everyone is trying to work as hard as they can to get through today’s schedule. Nobody messes around and the early morning portion goes smoothly. The stunts are clean and we get them on the first take, and I can tell that Lionel’s pleased.
And so I’m not expecting Holly to come up to me as I’m skimming the script to get a feel for the rest of the day.
“Script girl,” she says to me.
I look up, still a little groggy, a cup of coffee nearby. Jackson is in makeup at the moment, so he’s nowhere to be seen, and I figured Holly would be with him.
“Uh, hey,” I say to her.
“We need to talk.” She stands in front of me and crosses her arms.
“Sure,” I say, wary of this. “What’s up?”
“I heard from my agent last night. Apparently, Jackson went to a studio executive’s house and tried to get out of our relationship.” She steps toward me, her eyes narrowing.