Page 1 of Just for the Holidays
One
I’m bored of playing the same character,” Gael Montez muttered as he flipped through the pages of the script Manolo, his manager—and uncle—had asked him to review. “Is there nothing else I can do than play the ‘ambiguously ethnic guy’ in superhero ensembles?”
“Ambiguously ethnic guyparts in billion-dollar franchises make for a very good living,” his uncle responded in that lecturing tone that put Gael’s teeth on edge. “Space Squadron money is nothing to lift your nose at, mijo,” Manolo continued, offering more unsolicited advice. “And this role has you as the lead, plus you’d get a producer credit. You’re just in a mood this time of the year.” The older man lifted his champagne flute, signaling to the private jet’s flight attendant. Gael glanced away, annoyed that his uncle was right on both counts. His current gig as part of the cast of one of the most popular movie franchises ever was a dream job for anyone,andhe hated Christmas.
Well, he didn’t hate it exactly; it just brought back memories he’d rather forget. And he’d have to put his most cheerful face on by the time they landed, because there was no way he was going to put a damper on his mother’s favorite holiday. Not after the year she’d had.
“I’m not in a mood.” That got him a scoff from his sister, Gabi.
“You’re always in a funk in December, Señor Grinch.”
Gael bared his teeth at his sister, who loved to comment about his less than festive disposition around the holidays and every other “attitude” of Gael’s she found lacking. Gabi lived to bust his balls. “I’m just tired,” he sighed, and he felt it. Bone tired and depleted in a way that was starting to worry him. It was like in the past year he’d become completely numb. He did his work, and he did it well—Gael had high standards for himself and he never gave anything less than one hundred percent to any of his performances. He just couldn’t get excited aboutanythinglately. Maybe he was burnt out. Since his breakout role in an acclaimed cable series five years ago, he’d been working constantly. Offers just started coming in, and they never stopped. And having been raised by a single mom, who at times struggled to put food on the table, didn’t let Gael even consider turning work down. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d taken more than a few days off to just do nothing. Maybe he needed a break.
He had the next ten days, at least.
The production schedule for the most recent installment of the Space Squadron—in which Gael played the brown guy with superpowers—allowed for time off from the press tours for the cast and crew for the holidays. Which was why Gael, Gabi and his uncle were on their way from LA to his house in the Hamptons, where his mother and the rest of their family would be spending Christmas. He was looking forward to not having to be “on” for the cameras 24/7.
He wasn’t an ungrateful ass. He knew how lucky he was to have made it as far as he had. You didn’t have to be in Hollywood too long as a Latinx actor to notice there weren’t many others around. Never mind being cast for one of the most profitable movie franchises in the industry. On paper, he was living the dream. His profile was growing with every one of the movies he was in, and what was more, he was able to provide for his entire family. Hell, it seemed he employed half of them.
But five years into what seemed like movie after movie where his culture had no bearing—where his roots were some muddled inconsequential footnote—he yearned to take on a project that would show a different side to him. He had a couple of co-stars from Squadron—Tanusha, a Malaysian actress who was his love interest in the movies, and Kwaw, a Ghanaian actor who was his friend off-and on-screen—who had warned Gael about that, to not let himself get pigeonholed as the “hot ethnic guy” in all his projects. Kwaw already had indie projects lined up before filming for the next Squadron, and Tanusha was directing a documentary about the effects of climate change in her country.
Meanwhile, Gael was reading scripts for more movies that only required him to flex his muscles and look pretty. He tossed the script on the table and took a swig of his own glass of champagne. “I’m not interested in this, Manolo.”
“Did you even read what the starting offer is? It’s more than what you’re making with the Space Squadron movies and you would havethe leading role and an executive producer credit. That’s a great opportunity.”
“I’ve never heard of this production company, anyone in this writer’s room or the director. Looks like it’s a bunch of frat bros trying to make a buck off the popularity of the Marvel franchises.” That came from Gabi, who for the past three years had been working as Gael’s publicist. It was a bit of Latinx cliché to have his family working for him, but his sister was excellent at what she did, and had a keen eye for what was a good use of his time and what wasn’t.
“Gabi, I appreciate your opinion, but I’ve been doing this a bit longer than you have. I’ve been with your brother from the time that no one gave him an audition.”
Gael scowled at Manolo’s harsh tone. He loved his uncle and he was grateful for the support he’d given him over the years. It was true that he’d helped him get to where he was. That he’d been there every step of the way. But sometimes Manolo acted like Gael’s abilities and talents were incidental. Like it hadn’t been Gael busting his ass working two jobs while going to drama school. Or it wasn’t Gael who ran from audition to audition from the time he was eighteen until he finally caught a break that last year of college. And he didn’t owe that break to Manolo; that had been because of...well, that wasn’t anything Gael would be rehashing, not if he wanted to show up at his mother’s in a better frame of mind. None of it mattered anymore. What did matter was Manolo’s high-handedness.
Gael turned to his sister, ignoring the glares she and Manolo were directing at each other, and pointed to the stack of screenplays he was supposed to look over. “What project do you think I should do next?”
“Nothing in that pile,” Gabi replied, clearly ready for the question. “Gael, you’re in a good place in your career. Money-and work-wise. Youcanafford to take on a passion project, bro.” That earned her a sneer from Manolo, which Gabi completely ignored.
She was in more casual attire today, her usual designer power suits replaced by Gucci sneakers and a tracksuit—a Prada tracksuit, but nonetheless, it was dressing down for her. They may have been twins, but Gabi took more after their mother. She was short and very curvy, while Gael was tall and brawny. He’d inherited his father’s bronzed skin and green eyes, as well as his height. Gael was well over six feet tall and made sure he stayed in Hollywood Heartthrob shape. It was part of his job to look the part, after all. Like his mother said, if the acting gig hadn’t worked out he could’ve been right at home in an NFL defensive line.
What Gabi lacked in stature she made up by being a total hard-ass, and his sister was rarely wrong when it came to the moves that would push his career in the right direction. Whether Manolo liked it or not, Gabi had an instinct for this stuff.
In the family they’d always joked that Gabi had been born clutching her planner and with her iPhone to her ear. His sister worked hard and kept her finger on the pulse of what was happening in the industry. Manolo was more focused on the money side, on what kept the family financially secure. They both loved their jobs, and frankly, their jobs depended on Gael’s staying employed.
That meant that when it came down to it, he always made the choice that guaranteed him—and all of them—security. That particular approach had cost him dearly through the years, but he was a realist, and when you had people depending on you like he did, you didn’t always get what you wanted. Gael thought he’d made peace with that, but in the past year he’d started losing his drive. Taking every lucrative offer that came along was killing his passion for the craft. He needed something to rekindle the fire he’d always felt for acting. In theory, he had everything any Latinx actor at this stage in their career could ask for, and still he felt...dissatisfied.
And yet...there had been a time not too long ago when nothing and no one felt more important than career success. A time where he’d made choices that might’ve seemed heartless to some in order to stay on the path he’d set for himself.
“Did you hear me, Gael?” His sister’s voice snatched him back from his thoughts.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
She sucked her teeth at him for daring to ignore her, but soon was talking excitedly. “Word is Violeta Torrejos just signed on to direct a period series about Francisco Rios and his wife. It’s about their time at Harvard.” Gael perked up immediately at the mention of the Puerto Rican freedom fighter who was one of his heroes. “They’re still looking for an actor to play the lead.” Gabi smiled knowingly as he sat up in his chair. That last morsel of information jolting him out of the ennui he’d been steeped in a second ago.
“No eso, no. I already told them this part’s not right for you and—” Manolo protested, but Gael held his hand up, annoyed that Manolo had passed on a project like that without running it by him first.
“Tio, esperate,” he interrupted and turned to his twin. “Tell me.”
Gabi grinned icily at their uncle, then bent her head to scroll on her phone, presumably looking for the information she had on the project. “It’s calledThe Liberator and His Love. The showrunner is Pedro Galvañes.”
That was a good sign. Galvañes’s name attached to a project usually meant there would be a lot of buzz for the show. “They’ve cast Jasmine Lin Rodriguez as Claudia Mieses,” Gabi informed him, eyes still on her phone screen. Also a good sign, Gael thought, excitement already coursing through him. He knew Jasmine and she didn’t sign on to just any project.
