Page 84 of Off Script
JOJO
Ugh, seriously??! I need a freaking pay raise and my eyeballs bleached after reading that text.
I feel like I’ve accomplished something. Well, two things actually. Annoying Jo and spoiling Carlisle. With a smile on my face, I switch my phone to airplane mode and recline my seat to get comfortable.
Willa’s quiet, even breathing tells me that she’s already asleep. This eleven-and-a-half-hour flight may afford me the longest stretch of sleep I can get in the next few days, so I pop a melatonin and take full advantage of the opportunity to rest.
A red carpet premiere is an intensely coordinated event with lots of moving parts, any of which can break down and cause issues and delays. Experienced staffers work diligently to choreograph every detail to make them run as smoothly as possible, but there’s always a certain degree of unpredictability. To combat this, my agent has assigned a handler, James, to shadow Willa and me for the duration of the press tour. James will get us where we need to be, when we need to be there, and for however long we need to be there.
James is basically a well-paid babysitter.
This evening is our London premiere. The streets immediately surrounding Leicester Square are blocked off, and enormous white tents have been erected to form a long tunnel. It’s inside these tents that we meet with the media to conduct short interviews and have our photos taken in front of the step-and-repeat. Outside the tents, thousands of fans are lined up, chanting and cheering, and pressing up against the metal barricades. Willa and I are allotted exactly eight minutes to shake hands and smile for photos with fans before James corrals us into the tunnel to begin our round of press interviews.
Inside, James leads us to the first reporter and discreetly points out the placard behind her cameraman which identifies the reporter’s name and news outlet, and murmurs, “This is Marsha Baldwin from BBC 1. Ben, she last interviewed you two years ago whenEye of the Beholderwas released.”
As actors, Willa and I have been interviewed by countless journalists and it’s difficult to keep track of all of them. Luckily, it’s part of James’ job duties to do that for us.
While the cameraman sets up, Willa surprises me when she reaches up and gently swipes my bottom lip with her thumb. Leaning into me, she whispers loudly with a saucy smile, “You had a little lipstick there.” Then speaking to the reporter, Willa jokes, “Don’t want to get that on camera!”
Good lord, Willa is good at bringing this farce to life.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re joined by the stars ofCaptain Commander, Ben Sutton and Willa Radford! So good to see you both tonight,” Marsha begins cheerfully, aiming her microphone in our direction.
“Wonderful to see you again, Marsha,” I smile, standing next to Willa with my hand pressed against her back.
“As much as I’d love to learn more about your experiences filmingCaptain Commander, our fans are positively clamoring to know what’s going on between the two of you,” the reporter blithely grins. “Are the rumors true? Are you two dating?”
When the paparazzi photos of us hit the internet, the gossip and speculation became relentless, which is exactly what the studio wanted when they manufactured our relationship. Rather than confirming it, our publicist has remained mum. Becky’s refusal to confirm nor deny it has only served to heighten the fervor.
Returning the reporter’s smile, Willa slides her fingers across her mouth, zipping her lips. But then she moves in closer to me, plastering herself to my side.
“We’re good friends, Marsha,” I respond with a tight smile.
“Verygood friends, by the looks of it.” When the reporter’s eyebrows rise in coy disbelief, I can tell that Marsha is buying what Willa and I are selling. “Did you meet on the set of the film?”
“No. We’ve known each other for several years; however, this was the first time we had the opportunity to work together.” Shooting me a cheeky wink, Willa adds, “But hopefully, not the last.”
She slides her arm from my waist, trailing her hand down my arm to interlock our fingers. Then Willa steps slightly in front of me, bringing our joined hands to rest against her abdomen and she leans back, rubbing her ass against me.
The intimacy of her touches sets off a myriad of confusing feelings. These subtle movements unfold so naturally between us. They speak to a level of comfort that authenticates and legitimizes our relationship to the casual observer. It scares me how good Willa is at portraying our affair as a genuine romantic relationship.
I told Carlisle that Willa and my arranged relationship was merely an extension of our acting roles, but it’s more complicated thanthat. When we’re acting on set, especially when we’re filming sex scenes, we have a script to provide us the exact words to say, the noises to utter, and an intimacy coordinator who choreographs every move we make with our bodies. Where I place a hand, when Willa kisses me, how the sheet drapes over us, even down to the number of thrusts we fake. All of it is discussed, planned, and plotted out beforehand so that we feel as safe and as comfortable as possible while filming intimate scenes.
But out here, in front of the press, very little has been discussed in terms of how to portray our physical intimacy. Willa and I had media training to help us best verbally answer the expected questions about our relationship, but we haven’t explicitly outlined our boundaries regarding physical touching.
Which is something that I now realize needs to be addressed as soon as possible.
If I’m not feeling comfortable with Willa’s touches, then Carlisle certainly won’t feel comfortable watching Willa touch me either.
After our BBC 1 interview winds down, Willa and I move to the next member of the press and repeat the process. Each news outlet seems more interested in discussing our relationship status than our movie, and with each interview, Willa plays her part to perfection. Longing glances. Flirty banter. Loving caresses.
As the lead actors inCaptain Commander, Willa and I are the last to arrive at the premiere, so as soon as we finish our interviews, we’re whisked into the auditorium for the screening. After the movie is finished, the cast members stand through the rolling of the credits as the attendees applaud. It’s always a heady rush of excitement when the months of hard work filming a movie culminates in this moment.
As we make our way toward the reception, I tug Willa into a quiet alcove, eager to discuss our physical boundaries.
“I think it went well tonight, don’t you, love?” she asks in a chipper tone. Smiling up at me, she places a hand on my chest and slides her other hand around to the back of my neck to play with my hair. Before my brain realizes what she’s about to do, Willa rises onto her tiptoes and brushes her lips against mine.
I step back, stunned at her overt affection. Hardly anyone is around us. All the attendees had their phones confiscated for security reasons and the majority of the press has left, so there’s no reason for her to continue with our charade. A flash of hurt crosses her features before she composes herself and drops her hands to her sides.
