My Leading Man | Timothée Chalamet

chapter seven

I spun around and froze, my mouth agape. At first I just stood there, unable to react, but for a slight tugging at the corners of my mouth. I was brought back to reality, though, by Sydney jumping up and down beside me, tugging at my arm.

"Ahhhh!" She screamed in my ear.

Not knowing what else to do, I ran over to Professor Singh's desk to see for myself.

"Here," she moved, motioning me to her laptop. She smiled with her hands on her hips beside me. I turned to the laptop screen and read:

To the desks of Devi Singh and Violet Ross,

Thank you so much for reaching out to me with your screenplay. Violet, it was unique, bold, and conveyed an original theme we don't see enough of in the film world.

Violet Ross, after much consideration between my colleagues and me, we have decided to select you to be the winner of this term's Young Short Film Creatives' Grant. We hope it will allow you to create your film and many more like it. I look forward to seeing what else you will create and hope you will turn to me for help and friendship as your journey to success continues.

Here is the link for the grant's requirements and additional information. Good luck.

Best,

Q. Langley

I turned to my professor, only just realizing the subtle ache in my cheeks from smiling that entire time.

"Congratulations!" She said to me.

"Thank you!" I grinned, and quickly hugged Syd who had materialized next to me, oblivious to how else I could cope with my newfound excitement.

"Well?" Syd grinned at me. "Click on the link to see how much money you get."

"Oh. Right." I chuckled, and clicked on the link. It opened to a PDF, that I scanned over until I read the line: You have been awarded $12,500 to use solely for production of your short film, For Lies and Loyalty.

"$12,500?! That's even more than you said!" I exclaimed at my professor, who just shrugged and smiled at me. I turned back to the document, skimming over the information about how to receive the money, and stopped short at a line two paragraphs down: You must begin production within 12 months of March 31 in the Los Angeles County of California to maintain your scholarship.

I reared back, not understanding. I reread the statement once, twice. I felt like I had been hit by a ton of bricks. I hesitantly turned to my professor, looking for clarification. "I have to make it in L.A.?" I whispered.

Professor Singh's face fell. "I didn't tell you?" She asked me.

I shook my head. "No... tell me what?"

My professor sighed and looked away. "The requirement for the grant is that you produce it in L.A., because they're not only giving you money, but they also have an on-site crew of USC college students who will help you make your film for free, for college credit."

I turned away from her, back to the computer screen. I scanned for where I missed this vital piece of information, and sure enough, right below explaining the money I had been awarded, was another line explaining this requirement.

My stomach clenched and it felt like my lungs were collapsing. All this, I thought. All this excitement, and possibility, and meeting Timothée Chalamet... all for nothing. I sighed heavily, looked at the ground, and fiddled with one of my rings. There was just no way this could work, then. $12,500 was not enough money to buy plane tickets, hotel rooms, equipement, etc. I knew it was too good to be true.

I felt Syd touch my arm reassuringly. "We can work this out," she said quietly.

But I knew there was just no way. I shook my head sadly and told Professor Singh to please politely decline my acceptance of the grant.

"Wait, Violet." I was already walking away. "Just think about it. Talk to your parents. It might be able to work out."

I turned back to her, already checked out. "No, thanks." I felt tears prick my eyes and I smiled sadly at her. "Thanks for giving me this opportunity, but I just don't see how it will work out."

Professor Singh called out to me once more. "Violet, if it's supposed to happen, it will. There's no harm in trying to find a way to make it work." I just gave her a noncommittal smile and left the room, Syd right behind me.

-

I decided to skip my next class that day and head home. I wouldn't be able to focus on the lecture anyway.

As I walked out to my subway stop, there was a slight, cool breeze that blew my white blouse along my stomach. Despite the omnipresent sounds and crowds of Manhattan, I couldn't seem to hear anything. I felt like a swimmer fighting against a tidal wave, trying to get over the crest before it crashes but never making it over.

Once I made it home, I went to the kitchen to make peanut butter toast and then headed to my room to watch TV. Both my parents were at work, so I could watch it as loud as I wanted, trying to drown out my disappointment.

Six and a half episodes of Friends later, I was still feeling numb, but now I was really just bored. I checked my phone and saw several missed texts from Syd asking how I was feeling. Her last text caught my attention, though; it was sent an hour after the previous ones, and it was long. I opened her texts and read: Ok Vi. I've done some thinking and here's a new plan: talk to your parents still about going to L.A., see what they think. If they're on board, then lmk asap, because I realized my grandparents only live about an hour south of L.A., and I bet we could stay with them during production. We could do it this summer, so missing school's not an issue. Then, you could tell Timothée he's in, and use your grant money to just buy plane tickets for you, me, and Tim. The rest of the crew is in L.A., and we can find local actors down there too for cheap.

In a separate text, she added: I think it's worth a shot. Talk to your parents and then call me when you get a chance <3

I set my phone down, my heart racing and my breathing shaky. This... seemed like a possibility. Taking out housing costs made it actually doable, and I allowed myself to get the tiniest bit excited over this new potential. I checked the time on my phone, and realized my parents wouldn't be home for another two hours. Feeling a burst of excitement and motivation, I hopped up from bed, started on some homework I'd been neglecting, and then cleaned the house. Syd and Professor Singh were right: I'd been given a rare opportunity, and it seemed foolish to not try to make it work. I smiled to myself, hopeful again.

-

The rest of the day went by in a rush. My parents were skeptical at first, but then my dad told me his sister, my aunt Dayna, was living just ten minutes out of L.A., and after calling her, she was thrilled at the idea of me staying with her this summer. Once they were on board and I told Syd the news, I mustered up all my courage and called Timothée's agent. The woman who answered sounded intense but friendly. She told me she couldn't reach Timothée that night, but she would call him the next morning. She wasn't enthusiastic about my having no plans for his housing that summer, but said she would still talk to him, and that apart from a few festivals and a scheduled audition going on in August, she was pretty sure his summer was open for the time being. I bit my lip with excitement, and told her I couldn't wait to hear back from her the next morning. After the call, I emailed my professor and told her I would accept the grant, and thanked her profusely for her guidance and patience.

Once it was all done, I slammed my laptop closed and took a big sigh of relief. This might work, I thought to myself, and smiled so wide I was sure all of my teeth were showing.

I spent the rest of the night dancing and singing in my room, dreaming about what it might be like to work alongside such a talented actor as Timothée, live in L.A. for the summer with my best friend, make a movie with my own script and crew, and what this might do to boost my future career.