Page 35 of Out of the Gold

The woman next to me puts her hand in front of her mouth, hiding her giggle. “You’re bad.”

“She was so mad! She spent the rest of the run trying to get back at me.”

“What did she do?”

“She tried to get me to flub my lines, but I was too prepared for that. So she resorted to tampering with my wardrobe. Her worst was shaving cream in my shoes.” I chuckle.

“That one never gets old. Although”—she cocks her head—“she probably should’ve tried to mess with your hair.” She reaches up and runs her fingers over my undercut, ending with shaking the top askew.

“Nice try.” I rake my hands through my hair, catching sight of myself in a window. “Looks normal to me.”

She checks me out. “The trials of having perfect hair. Guess you left your actress friend no other option but the shaving cream.”

I grimace, remembering the squishy feeling against my feet. “It was pretty effective.” We resume walking.

“So, you loved Shakespeare on stage but now are playing Doctor Manipul8. Is it the challenge of acting before a live audience that you miss?”

I shove my hands into my pockets. “That’s part of it. The connection with the audience simply can’t be replicated, especially here on these massive movie sets. There’s a tension, a camaraderie, with other actors that’s also missing. But don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy the movies.”

“While wishing you were on stage.”

“Lately, yes.” But I’ve only given her part of my reason. Sure, I do miss the adrenaline of live acting. Dare I share the more gnawing reason? I glance at her but can’t share such a deep secret. “It looks like you’re living your dream to me.”

She blinks. Clearing her throat, she replies, “I’m trying. That’s all any of us can do, right?”

Am I trying? Instead of shutting down like I normally do when a subject gets too heavy, I find my mouth running away from me. “Some more than others.”

Her expressive eyes peek at me from under her long lashes. “What’s holding you back?”

I inhale and consider her question. She waits for me to reply but doesn’t push. Lets me work out what I feel able to share. What Idareto share. For some reason, I think I can trust her. “Well, you see, I guess there are a couple of things. First, I’ve recently lost some roles to younger actors.”

Her head pops up. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Because I want to do something with my hands, I grab the bags away from her. “Two times in the past couple of months, studios went with an unknown over me.”

“That sucks.”

Like Russian dolls, I shove one bag into the other in an effort to assimilate her belief in my skill. “Actually, it only hurt my pride. I wasn’t all that into the roles. However, the increased competition has shown me that, unless I change tracks, my career is definitely on the downswing.” I switch the now one bag to my other hand. Before I can confess more, I bite my lip.

“Hence your renewed interest in the stage?”

“Sort of.” I switch the light bags again. “Truth be told, my heart never truly left the stage. Movies don’t really allow me to expand my acting chops.” I shake my head. I’m not explaining myself.

“I get it,” she murmurs. “You want longevity and meatier roles than what you’ve been doing in front of a green screen.”

I’m a little shocked at her perception. “Yeah. Exactly.”

“Then you should try out for Broadway, instead of the rom-coms Sam’s throwing your way.”

“Easier said than done.” Movement to my right catches my eye. A line of reporters form along the side of the walkway toward the ferry. “Shit.”

“What?” Melody’s head swivels from side to side, stopping when she spies the paparazzi. “Oh, crap. I thought we’d be able to avoid them all day.” She rummages in her purse for a moment and offers me a baseball cap.

“Thanks.” I bring the bill down over my forehead. One of the reporters yells my name as our ferry makes its way toward the dock. “Our ferry’s coming.”

“Good.”

Melody twirls around in front of me as if to shield me from the cameras, causing me to chuckle. “I doubt that’ll put them off.”

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