The Sackler Trap

Fangirling

The next morning I was taking the train to work and going over the script for the next show. As the train lurched to a halt at the next to last stop before mine, two young girls, fashionably dressed and incredibly beautiful stepped on and took the seat right across from me. The first one was incredibly tall and slender, with coffee-colored skin, cat-like eyes the color of warm honey and waist length braids. Her companion was also tall, but fair-skinned with  gorgeous blond highlighted curls and startlingly blue eyes. Both looked to be no older than eighteen or nineteen. Models? I wondered. They were certainly pretty enough.

I was so absorbed in my reading it took me a moment to realize that the two girls were whispering and nudging each other while stealing glances at me every now and then. My brow furrowed, then I smiled. I could feel my cheeks begin to redden. Was I...recognized? Surely not. We were still filming and the pilot for this season was far from airing.

I glanced up at them and offered a friendly smile and a "Hi." before looking back down at the script.

"Ask her," I heard the girl with the braids whisper.

"No, you," replied her blond companion.

I glanced up again in time to see the first girl roll her exquisite eyes and then they both looked at me simultaneously with dazzling wide smiles.

The girl with the braids leaned forward. "Um, excuse me, but we were just wondering...I mean I feel stupid for asking, but I noticed the script your reading. Are you at all involved in The Chemist?"

Oh, shit. My smile slipped just a fraction, before I enlarged it quickly and dipped my head in assent. "Um," I said, glancing down at the script. "Yeah, but I can't really..."

The girls ignored my stuttered reply and turned to each other squealing.

"I knew it! I fucking knew it!"

"How amazing!"

"Adam Sackler is so fucking hot!"

They turned predatory eyes on me again. The blond one spoke. "So, what's it like working with Adam Sackler?"

Before I could answer, the braided one asked, "Does he have a girlfriend?"

My mouth opened and shut like a fish out of water as I tried to process the questions, wondering what the hell I should say. I shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I really couldn't say..."

"Are you guys, like, friends off the set?"

"Yeah, like do you get to hang out with him?"

I bit my lip. My agent had not prepared me for this. What was I supposed to say? "Um, yeah sometimes..."

"Oohh, ooh, what's he like to do? What does he drink?"

"What's his favorite music?"

"What's it like doing scenes with him?"

I shrugged, a little dazed. "Well, we..."

"What's it like when he touches you? I think I'd melt!"

My lips twitched. "Well, we don't really..."

"I'd give anything to do a love scene with him," said the highlighted one, her eyes glazing over.

Mercifully, the train lurched to a stop. I stood up, sighing in relief. "Well, this is me. Nice to have met you," I said brightly. "Thanks for being fans of the show!"

I stepped off onto the platform before they could pepper me with more questions. As the doors slid closed behind me, I swiped a hand across the imaginary sweat on my brow and, shaking my head, started for Studio C.