Page 13 of The Actor: Harrison

“I’ll find other investors.” I’m scraping the bottom here. There is no chance I can find someone for that sum.

“Listen. I don’t care if you have a problem with him or not. He’s here to stay. You, on the other hand, are not irreplaceable. He is Hollywood royalty. He has fans that will do anything to watch this movie. He’s the one pushing it high, not you. You’re good, but I can find a million good directors out there willing to work with me and Harrison Bates. You want to do this movie? Good. I’ll put you at the wheel. You want to complain? Feel free to find another job.” He never raises his voice, never lose his composure during his speech, but the message is no less clear.

If he has to decide between Harrison Bates and me, I’m easily replaceable. I’m the one with no power to negotiate this project. I have to consider myself lucky that Harrison Bates wants to work with me or I will be out of a job.

I don’t know what his agenda is, if he wants to sink this movie with a mediocre performance out of spite because I humiliated him, but I won’t make his life easy. If he thinks he can do whatever he wants because he’s Hollywood’s golden boy and everyone will bend to his whims, he’ll regret every single decision he’s ever made.

I fought tooth and nail to climb this fucking mountain. I’m almost there, and I won’t let an arrogant asshole ruin everything I worked for these last ten years.

“Fine. I will work withPretty Boy.”

I sit alone on one of the chairs set up for the table read. It’s been a month since the company I partially own signed the contract to give money to make this movie but I’m still nervous. I asked them to keep my involvement with them quiet, but I expect every day to get a call from Sienna telling me I’m an asshole.

Aaron would say that this is my conscience screaming at me to come clean, but I’m not famous for following other people’s advice. I was so angry that night I thoughtFuck it! I don’t care. But the more time that goes by, the more I feel a bit guilty about it. There should be another guy waiting in this chair to start filming this movie. Someone less famous than me that needs this job a lot more. It’s the only thing I feel guilty for. Not the fact that I forced my way into this movie.

I need this movie more than anyone else. Not for money, but for the script. As soon as I got it in my hands, I knew it was going to be the greatest challenge I’ve ever faced but also the greatest reward. My agent was mad because I signed on for something I won’t be paid much for. To be honest, considering the money I put into this project, unless it becomes the greatest movie in history, I’ll probably lose money on it.

What my agent doesn’t understand is that I don’t care about money. I need something to drag me out of the pit I have fallen into and thathemakes me dig deeper and deeper with every blockbuster movie he makes me do. I can’t take it anymore. I’m tired of being the joke of Hollywood Hills. And this is my chance.

I studied the script, I learned my part, I made notes where we can make it better. It’s a great movie, but it can be better. Iwantit to be better.

The door opens and Viola, the actress who will star opposite me in this movie scans the empty long rectangular table surrounded by two rows of chairs. She lights up in a smile when her eyes land on me.

“Hello! Nice to meet you,” she says, walking around the table and extending a hand when she reaches me. I stand up, smile, and greet her.

“Nice to meet you too. It’s a pleasure to work with you.”

“Oh, shut up. You’re the star here. I barely pulled off a couple of good movies and a lot of commercials.” She playfully swats my shoulder and sits down next to me.

“Well, they were good movies.”

She snaps her head toward me, wide-eyed. “You watched them?”

“Of course, I did! Not having the chance to audition together or test the waters about your style, I went through them at least a couple of times.” She seems surprised that I took the time to watch them.

This is something I see a lot. Nobody expects me to come prepared on set and they all look surprised when I actually know what I’m doing. It’s frustrating. In the beginning I felt humiliated, but I’ve learned to let it go and not let it affect me.

The door swings open again and this time half dozen people come in chatting—two other actors we will work with and others I don’t know. They all wave and greet us with big smiles and the tension I was harboring inside slips away.

I love the table reading because this is the most intimate part of making a movie. We’re all here, seated around the table, reading the script, taking notes, changing things and getting to know one other. But the best part is we all share the same excitement of starting something new, something amazing, almost magical.

There is a buzz of energy in this moment that’s irreplaceable. The wrap at the end of the movie is great because you celebrate the end of months of hard work and long hours, but the expectation at the beginning of a project is even better.

Fifteen minutes later, everyone has arrived, including Sienna, who since she stepped foot inside this room has not acknowledged my presence.

“Thank you everyone for being here today,” she starts with a warm firm voice and a smile. “This movie will be big. This movie will be great. And you know why? Because we hand-picked every single one of you because you are the best. We spent days going through names, casting for the actors, and in the end, we chose the best. That’s why this movie will be great. Becauseyouare the best!” She concludes and the small crowd cheers and whistles.

I don’t miss the backhanded insult that comes with this pep talk. I wasn’t chosen—hand-picked as she put it—I was signed into this movie by a contract she couldn’t turn down. I deserve it, but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less.

Like every other time life slams its fist in my gut, I put a smile on my face and clear my throat. “Well, we have the best director, so I think that’s another reason we’ll be great.”

She turns to me as the others clap. It’s the first time she’s looked me in the eyes and, while she is smiling, her dark, almost black eyes turn ice cold. She looks spectacular in those tight jeans and fitted button-down red shirt, even better than the night of the party, but her coldness is something that leaves a mark on my skin.

She says nothing, just nods and goes back to what we were doing. I swallow my pride and take a deep breath before digging out my script and the notes that come with it.

The reading is a blood bath. At least for me. We are two hours into it and Sienna has shot down every single suggestion I’ve made. The only time she accepts a proposal I make is when the writer says that it’s actually a good idea and reasons with Sienna until she changes her mind.

It’s a continuous push and pull between us that became uncomfortable for everyone one hour ago. I’m sure half the people in here think if this is the tone we’ve set for the movie, working with us on set will be a nightmare. And I don’t blame them. I would think it too.

---