This Is Hollywood, Darling

Chapter 1: Setting the Scene

I am spread open, in a tiny red dress, on a mattress that smells of sandwiches. Usually, this would be off putting, but I haven't eaten in six weeks and if I weren't in the middle of a take, I might press my nose into the foam and inhale. The director, Malcom James, asked me to lose five pounds for the role of Suzie Wilks, forgetting, like an idiot, that I have a predisposition for chubbiness.

Ezra Anderson, my current co-star, an eighteen-year-old ex-Disney kid is preparing himself for our scene. I should too, but I'm transfixed by visions of pie and simple carbohydrates.

Ezra undoes three buttons, revealing the scrawny boy that lives underneath his plaid shirt.

"Quiet on set." Malcom calls, shooting a hand into the air. "Action!"

Ezra, playing Joshua Kelly, slides a sweaty hand up my thigh. I pout my lips, the way I've been told to by Malcom, and breathe heavily so that my chest rises considerably, drawing attention to my cleavage. The push up bra they've stuck me in is suffocating me, digging into my breastbone. They've got me in a 10A when I should be in a 10B, maybe even a 12B, because they think it will make my breasts look bigger. However, it's so tight that it's created a band of fat along my ribcage. So sexy.

"Is this alright?" Ezra stutters. I'm not sure if it's a character thing or if he's still having trouble fighting the nerves he's been carrying around with him all afternoon.

"Yes." I sigh seductively.

"Cut!" Malcom ignores his stars and begins discussing the set-up for the next shot with the camera men. Malcom never tells you when you get the shot right, only when it has to be done again.

Ezra looks down at his chest and grimaces. I consider complimenting him, perhaps telling him some girls like skinny guys. It wouldn't be a lie, some girls do. Myself included. But I don't think it would be the right moment. Or entirely appropriate. Malcom was involved in a sexual assault scandal ten years ago and he gave us all a stern talking to the week shooting began, assuring us that he wouldn't be making any lewd comments or inappropriate advances. I'm not interested in sexual assault scandals. Tipping paparazzi off on beach dates is one thing, sex scandals are another. I'm trying to rub the child actor stench off me, but not by telling grown men I think they're sexy.

Malcom comes out from behind the camera and points at Ezra. "Next shot. Ezra when you kiss her, I want you to be kind of shy at first. And then really take it over, I mean, not in like an aggressive way. Remember, we're still aiming for innocence here."

"She's a prostitute though, I mean, how innocent can it be?" Ezra has an unfortunate habit of misunderstanding directorial instruction. He likes to discuss scenes. On some sets, this is fine. But Malcom James does not enjoy discussion.

"She's an occasional prostitute." Malcom rubs his brow bone. "Look, just go off of what Lottie's doing, she gets it."

I smirk. When I was a kid I craved the approval of adults. It was kind of like a drug habit. I sought it out, I got high off of it and if I was ever in short supply I'd start climbing walls. I never quite kicked the habit.

It's probably what makes me a decent actress. My goal for each take it to have someone like Malcom tell me I get it. Nothing else matters, I just wants someone to tell me I'm better than everyone else in the room. It's sick, I know.

Ezra's shoulders hunch. I feel momentarily bad for him. Then I remember that he had a burger for lunch and a coke. Full strength. Not diet. And I decide that my life is harder than is.

Malcom goes back to his chair, his eyebrows knitted together, not because he's pissed off, he's just tired like the rest of us. We had a night shoot yesterday and now we're at it again.

"Quiet on set...Action!"

Ezra looks at me way we rehearsed, longingly, the way only an eighteen-year-old rumoured virgin can.

"Can I kiss you Suzie?"

I lean my face in towards his. "Please."

Ezra's lips touch mine and I swear to god; they're trembling a little. Lord help this boy!

It's supposed to be romantic but we've both got our heads tilted in odd positions so that camera one and two get the shot. And there's a room full of men (yeah, all men) watching us. And there's a little voice in my head reminding me that I'm going to be taking off this dress in the next hour and because of this stupid bra, a room full of men might see my nipples.

Ezra's really getting into it now, mashing his lips into mine, poking his tongue in and out of my mouth. Yeah, the dudes a virgin. No one with experience kisses a girl like that.

I put my hand on his shoulder, which is (surprise) sweaty. The caffeine in his soda won't be helping. Which is exactly why I drank decaf today. Again, a little thrill courses through me, because I did something better than someone else.

Because we're going to slap a love song over this scene Malcom is free to yell out directions. "Good work Lottie! That shiver works perfectly!"

My stomach rumbles, loudly enough that Ezra pulls back a little. But he makes it work, using it as an opportunity to go back in hell for leather. God I wish they sent him for kissing lessons.

"Faster. Faster! Amp it up!"

I snake my hands through his hair, making sure his face is still in shot.

Ezra pushes himself up against me, squashing my boobs, which makes breathing all the more difficult.

"Almost there guys!"

I really throw myself into it, kissing him with the same fever.

And that's when the phones start going off.

A/N 

Hiya! My name is Charlotte, I'm the author of this novel. I'm in a writing rut and I need something fun to get back into the swing of things. This is something I've had sitting on my computer for a while and I have finally decided to make it into something. Let me know what you think!