And They Told Me I Couldn't Act

TAKE 9

I KNOW I'M LATE TO WORK but a selfish part of me was glad I didn't have to see Harry Wolfe on a Monday morning. Since learning how Harry Wolfe really felt, I'd spent the weekend breaking every altar I've had for that hypocrite.

He is the biggest hypocrite of all. From claiming to care about his fans when every good deed he's ever given out was a pre-mediated move to persuade us of his good nature.

I wouldn't be surprised if those raw songs of his have been retouched, worded better, to carefully articulate the perfection that is Harry Wolfe.

He's so charismatic that at first glance you won't realize that all he talks about in his interviews is himself.

"Are you okay?" Priya, the lead actress asks me. I'm leaning on the wall outside my dressing room drinking a glass of water. I'm late, so the director, Elliot, has decided to shift the schedule around while I get my hair and makeup done.

That doesn't mean the Director is pleased. His eyes glare at me, if not for all the press Vanity High has gotten because of me, I'm sure he would have tried to cut me out. That doesn't mean I'm off the hook. He gave me a snide remark, and announced we'd finished my scenes last. Which meant that I'd be hanging around well till late.

As a side character, one of the only perks I got was that I didn't need to stay on set for the full twelve hours. I come in when we're shooting the scenes my character was needed in and I'm off the hook - welcome to hang around and watch or chill outside.

And at the rate we're going, with Christopher, the male lead struggling to go through his scenes. Which involve him looking at a camera in a expression that meant he was thinking about the past, it looked like it was going to be a late night.

"I'm fine," I reply curtly to Priya. I sip some water and watch him forget his lines for the 100th time.

"Are you upset Harry Wolfe didn't come today?" She prods gently.

I squint looking at her. "No." I down the water and crumple the paper cup throwing it in the bin.

Priya walks with me, "You know you can talk to me Vanessa," She smiles, "We're friends."

Right. We're friends. More like co-workers. Priya had swiftly grown from the nervous actress she was on the first day. She's a lot more confident now, her back is perpetually straight and with the way she talks - I know she comes from money or connections.

Whatever nerves she'd had, they'd been drowned out with the bright glaring light of the praise Elliot gives her. It's always a kind word for her, Christopher and I get the brunt of his sarcastic quips, irritated comments and senseless retakes for scenes that don't capture whatever vision he has with the writers.

The truth is, the biggest reason my guard is up with her now, is how she is with my fake boyfriend - Harry Wolfe.

Harry Wolfe is the biggest singer of our generation. Even the crew, who's about used to working with a variety of celebrities are a bit in awe of him.

I don't trust anyone who pretends they're not fazed by Harry Wolfe, one of the biggest male singers in this era.

"I'm just down that I'm late to work," I reply. Then pulling out my script, I read through it hoping that she'll get the message. She does. She leaves me alone and I see her later talking to some of the other side character actors.

When, I finally get the chance to shoot my scenes, I'm so determined not to struggle, to prove Harry Wolfe absolutely wrong. That I'm great in my own right.

Maybe it's the bit where I came late, or maybe I've an inflated sense of self.

"Cut - Philips, what are you going?"