Page 20 of When I Picture You
“Well, life’s like that sometimes, isn’t it? We’re not always ready for what it throws at us, but there we are.” Deborah pulled one arm across her body to stretch her shoulder. “You girls always had aconnection. That’s got to count for something when you’re making a movie about someone.”
Renee hadn’t considered that. She knew Lola better than any other director would—certainly better than Chess Waterston. But on the other hand, Reneedidn’tknow Lola, not anymore. She still couldn’t square that smiling, stage-ready version of Lola with the woman who’d brought her back to her hotel room and kissed her like her life depended on it. Renee was beginning to understand why Kadijah and Zane were obsessed with Lola Gray. There was the squeaky-clean girl photographed on the red carpet beside her equally squeaky-clean actor-boyfriend, and then there was the woman caught sneaking out of Ava Andreesen’s house with what looked like a hickey, if you zoomed in and squinted. Which was the real Lola Gray?
“What did your dean say?” Deborah asked.
“I can’t tell him about this!” Renee scoffed. “Dragan Kapic has shown his work atCannes. He was almost nominated foran Oscar. I’m not going to impress him with a movie about the teen queen of Michigan.”
This had no impact on Deborah whatsoever. “You should ask if you could use this as your thesis project. The timeline is perfect, isn’t it?”
“The timeline isridiculous! My thesis only has to be thirty minutes, and I’m stressed enough about finishing that by May. This isa full-length feature due in March. That’s only eight months!”
Deborah’s hands were on her hips. “But wouldn’t it be nice to bedone? Dave and I want to take a trip to New York for your graduation.”
The instructor took her place at the front of the class, so Deborah and Renee moved to their spots. Renee was in no mood for a fitness dance party, but at least it would end this conversation. Because unfortunately, Deborah’s idea made some sense.
“I’ll talk to Dragan,” Renee conceded as a reggaeton beat filled the air. “But this is so far below his taste level, he’ll never approve it.”
“PHENOMENAL!” DRAGAN SAIDover Zoom. He was wearing a Western shirt embroidered with blue roses, and glasses with matching blue frames. “I love it!”
“You do?” Renee said. “But it’s socommercial.”
“Film is an expensive art. A true filmmaker finds a way to put his artistic stamp on any project.”
Renee was shocked. Dragan could discourse indefinitely about nonfiction film as the art of knowledge, or interleaving visual story with conceptual purpose, or cinepoetics, but she had never heard him admit that films had budgets.
“To stand as your thesis project, this film must go beyond simply showing this Lola person singing songs. It must have real cinematic value. A story, with purpose, yes?”
“Yes,” Renee said.
“You’ll check in with me every few weeks.”
“You’llbe my advisor? For real? I mean, thanks—I mean, I’m not sure I’m doing it.”
Dragan squinted at her. Renee felt like a bug caught under a magnifying glass. “Why wouldn’t you?”
Renee wanted to explain that it was terrifying, that she couldn’t conceive of a scenario where this didn’t end disastrously.
But she couldn’t say that. Dragan had only ever treated her as a problem to get off his desk, and now he wanted to take her under his wing. Renee recognized a last chance when she saw it.
Spending a few months with Lola might not be that bad.
It might even be kind of nice.
6
Lola anxiously sipped an iced turmeric latte in the glass-enclosed conference room at Gloriana’s Hollywood office. Gloriana herself sat at the head of the large table. The stylish ribbon of silver running through her black hair was the only visible sign that she was, in fact, the same age as Lola’s mother. Despite her assiduously wrinkle-free fair skin, to Lola, Gloriana had the reassuring presence of an older woman, full of wisdom and experience and, when necessary, tough love.
Ringing the table were core members of Lola’s team. There was Veronika, her longtime publicist, whose wardrobe of stylish neutrals belied the fact that she was an absolute bulldog, professionally speaking. A representative from the comms group that did social media sat beside her, as well as someone from marketing and brand relations. Lola’s creative director was there, and the label had someone on speakerphone. Micah, the man-bunned producer, was there too. He kept checking the time on a Rolex that he’d once explained to Lola, against her will, was durable enough to wear surfing.
Several assistants were also present. Lola’s assistant, Cassidy, always looked like the most highly strung person in the room. Her milky complexion mottled red when she got nervous, which was often. A lot of stars worked with friends as personal assistants, but Lola had hired Cassidy as a favor to Cassidy’s uncle, a top exec at her label.On her first day, Cassidy had arrived with a perfect coffee order and a stammering speech about how she wasn’t there to spy for the label, but to do the best job she could. Lola had appreciated the honesty, but she knew that no matter how many NDAs Cassidy signed, if Lola ever tried to enforce them, she’d jeopardize her relationship with her label. Lola did come to trust Cassidy when the secrecy with Ava made it unavoidable, but she’d always kept Cassidy a little at arm’s length.
They’d gathered to meet the documentary’s director. At least, that’s what they would have been doing, if Renee had been there.
Gloriana’s assistant looked up from her phone. “She’s almost here. Traffic out of LAX.”
“Who doesn’t expect traffic out of LAX?” Gloriana muttered.
“It must be unusually bad today,” Lola offered. She’d really had to make a case for Renee. Once the team had gotten past their surprise that Lola was seriously putting her foot down about Chess Waterston, they had not been happy. They’d been even less pleased when the replacement Lola found didn’t have an IMDb page. Lola showed them the student films Renee had sent over, which were great—but at under ten minutes, hardly evidence that Renee could handle a feature.
