And They Told Me I Couldn't Act

TAKE 5

I AM DEFINITELY not looking over to the door for Harry Wolfe. I'm just focusing on exit signs in case there's a fire or something. There have been worse tragedies than this. After all, no movie set is worth my life.

"Cut!" The director yells.

The director isn't a fifty-year-old man with a love for teen dramas. No, he's a young guy, definitely rich. The child of two actors or something. And this is his first director role so he's all about yelling and shouting and getting the perfect take even though we've gone through this like five times.

I mean, I'm not a professional yet, but I'm sure this scene is too easy and it's not like it even requires a lot of lines.

"Phillips," He's probably my age but he insists on calling me, Philips. For now, eventually I'm sure he'll mellow down and call be by my name. After all, I'm acting opposite to the lead actress, and a story is only as interesting as it's villain. 

I look towards him.

"You need to look more menacingly at the protagonist when she's not looking at you."

"I will." I smile at him. He's clearly going for tough love because his frown deepens so I turn to look at one of the side characters, also known as one of the antagonist's minions so we can begin rolling.

"Oh my gosh," the minion says as I hear the clicking of heels behind me. I turn and look at the brown-skinned girl with dark hair and vibrant hazel eyes who's walking into the locker rooms. She's strutting, really trying hard since this is her first acting gig and we all want, no need, for the pilot to air.

"Oh my gosh indeed," I say irritated and annoyed and I keep my eyes on her though I very much would like to look at the door and see Harry Wolfe.

"Cut," the director yells. "I want to see the playback."

Someone runs to give him the playback. The lead actress deflates a little, and she's all nervous again picking at her nails and waiting unsure if she should move.

I don't move from my spot in case the Director finds another issue to grumble over. I look at the door. My minion, an actress called Emma asks me, "Why do you keep looking over there?"

I look at her, and I smile, "Kind of hoping for my boyfriend to show up."

Emma blinks a little stunned, "I thought we weren't allowed to bring our partners on set."

I don't get a chance to reply because, and well, what perfect timing, Harry Wolfe comes through the door I was just looking at. And of course, he's handsome.

He's the kind of handsome that makes every head turn. I can see from far in front of the set that all the production crew straightened up, some fluffed their air and others just downright stared at him.

And he, Harry Wolfe, is my fake boyfriend.

I want to grin.

Our director notices the strangeness on set, he even turns to look and see the Harry Wolfe on set, standing to the back, not at all bothered by everyone looking at him. He turns around quickly, his eyes bulging. I can see him asking the assistant, "Why is Harry Wolfe here?"

Then, just like that, his eyes shoot at me.

"Vanessa," he says, softer, almost nicer even. "Can you come here for a bit?"

Emma's eyes shoot to me, "No way," she whispers, already excited, looking between us. I smile at her, then slowly strut my way to the Director.

I know. I'm awful. I shouldn't be taking advantage of this situation, but damn, would I be an idiot if I didn't. When I'm in front of him, it's an effort not to smirk, "yes?"