Act Like Love

Chapter 2

His face appeared carved from some hypnotic stone.

It caused anyone to focus on Grant no matter where he went. His talent rivaled those performing for decades, and yet, his personality was... so hideously wrong. I briefly toy with the theory that some ancestor of his annoyed a witch, cursing his family evermore, where their beauty will only ever be skin deep.

Despite his gruff nature a small part of me is happy by this turn of events. No one thought I could be an actress, least of all my parents and here I am about to do a scene with Grant Trenton. It may just be a class assignment but when I call my parents they might finally accept that I can do this.

I trail behind Grant as we weave through the backstage, down a narrow hallway to the costume room. He finds the furthest chair by the sewing machine, slapping the scene on the table as he sits. I take a chair near him.

We are silent. His chair squeaks and I shift my eyes without turning my head. Grant is not looking at the script, but his cell phone.

That's when I get mad.

Perhaps his bad attitude and the air of superiority about him should have ticked me off before, but it didn't. I accept that everyone is different, have had different lives and some have gone through things I can't possibly imagine. Plus, in this business, there are lots of divas.

It's laziness that bothers me. I may be in awe of his talent and unhappy to be saddled with a scene partner who makes Genghis Kahn seem like a sweetheart, but I refuse to slack on an assignment. Acting may come easy to him, but I want to work on my craft. There is a reason I chose this school to study theater; some of the best actors and actresses went here. People who won Tonys, Emmys, and even one Oscar-winner all matriculated here.

He may be spoiled with it, believing acting should be done for a paycheck, but that's not why I am here. I want to work hard on this scene, even if the play isn't that great. This is an assignment and half our grade for the class. I won't think twice about punching him in the gut, no matter how famous he is, if he causes me to fail this assignment.

"I guess you want my autograph." Grant said as his eyes shift to the window that overlooks a small parking lot.

"What?"

He runs his hands through his perfectly tousled black hair and sighs, "It's fine. I am used to people asking the first time they meet me. Let's get it over with."

I blink in rapid succession waiting for him to look at me. When he finally does the corner of his mouth wrinkles giving him a relaxed ease. I have only seen this expression in his movies as he has been everything but relaxed since the first day of class.

It occurs to me, he's acting. Putting on some show for me to make me happy. Only his words, his actions just infuriate me even more.

"I really don't want your autograph."

He puts his hands up in surrender and shakes his head, "It's alright. Don't be embarrassed. I get it all the time."

Curling my lip over my teeth I stand and walk over to him, "Look Grant, I don't want you as a scene partner any more than you want me as a scene partner or even want to be in this class. But, we are both here and, unlike you, I care about this class. So, if you wouldn't mind breaking out your calendar so we can arrange time to rehearse, that would be great. Then I will be more than happy to leave you alone."

I watched as the angry blush crept up his neck and over his face. His jaw squared as his nose flared before he rose to his full height. Grant towered over me as he inched closer. We almost touched, just a slip of air between us.

"What is your name again?"

Of course he doesn't know my name despite the teacher using it not ten minutes ago.

"Mirabella." I cross my arms in front of me and witness his eyes dip to my chest before rising back to my face.

"Well, Mirabella, I hate to break it to you but any scene you are in with me will get you an automatic A. Professor Dunhill out there practically falls all over himself to make me happy. So, don't worry about the scene. I'll talk to him. Tell him my agent doesn't think it's a good idea for me to act with anyone without a contract, or something like that. Anyway, we sit here for another minute or two, then leave."

Grant shrugs and waves his hand at the discarded paper on the table.

He is worse than I thought. Just a pampered movie star used to getting his way. I do the only thing I can do, turn and head to the door.

"Where are you going?"

I stop at the door and look back, "I'm leaving and asking Dunhill for a new scene partner. I actually believed you might challenge me. Keep me on my acting toes." A soft chuckle escapes as I shake my head, "Should have known all that money may have bought you nice clothes and I am guessing a fancy car too. But what it can't buy you is talent and drive—"

"You don't think I can act?" Grant's brow creases and the angry flush is back.

"That's not what I was saying. You didn't let me finish."

But before I could explain further he was on me. Four quick steps and Grant's body was flush with mine, the heat from his chest prickling my face.

"Fine. You want to do the scene, we will do it. Rehearsal will be Saturday night, eight o'clock in the black box."

He brushes past and I am too stunned to go after him. I watch him disappear as he turns the corner at the end of the hall.

I feel good, like I won something. The prize being an ape-like scene partner. Yay, me.

Sighing I stroll over to grab the papers noticing he left them behind. I may have a scene partner -- and a talented one at that -- but it looks like I will be the one prepared.