Page 115 of My Lucky Star
Chapter 42
Aria
ISAT IN FRONT OF Athree-paneled dressing mirror, examining the 1930s dropped-waist dress and head scarf that transformed me into Eloise –the woman who had to make a choice between love and a great fortune.
I felt her pain.
I preferred her pain.
For the past week, I’d lived through the 1800s gold rush and the tumultuous 1930s. I’d journeyed with my character as she witnessed the ugly things in her family’s past. It was a pain I could handle. The faux pain played for the cameras. The other pain, I’d locked away. Over the days, the tears had dried, other than for the scenes I needed them for. The joy of bringing the story to life, of doing what I loved to the best of my ability, gave me strength.
I hadn’t heard a word from Cem, but I suddenly had a lot of lines to learn and no time to think about him. Well, no. I still thought about him, almost constantly, but I didn’t have time to google him, searching for the headlines about his new role and international stardom. Maybe that was for the best. As much as I wanted to see his career rise to new heights, every photo of him made me ache. I’d never been more grateful to have a job to do, a job that required my full attention and pulled me into a completely different, imaginary world.
After a week of outdoor shoots, we were back at the hotel. Stepping back into the pink building brought back a flood of memories, but I tried to brush them aside and focus on the job.
This was my chance, the one I’d waited for my whole life. And it was all because of Cem. I couldn’t be angry at him. He’d given me more than I’d ever thought possible. He’d made me believe. He’d made me dream, but I didn’t dream of international stardom. I dreamed of him. That was the price I paid – the fresh stab of disappointment every time I didn’t find him behind the door, or around the corner.
It hurt, but also amazed me. Because that hope I nursed and pain I felt wouldn’t have been possible without a dash of faith. Part of me now trusted a higher power that didn’t hate me. I believed that good things could happen, that I could be lucky or even blessed. Life felt a little less random. A little less bleak.
“You’re up in five,” Lindsay called from the doorway. “Have you checked the changes? Are you ready?”
With a small crew, her producer role seemed very hands-on.
I lifted my script. “Yes, I did a read-through. Good to go.”
Lindsay’s eyes glinted. “By the way, Ali’s role got recast. I’ll take you to meet him now. Don’t worry. It’s a short scene with two lines, you’ll have a chance to rehearse the other scenes later. He’s very experienced.”
My heartbeat kicked up a notch. “What happened to Petros?”
I’d already run lines with the quiet, slightly wooden Armenian guy. He didn’t exactly match the character description, but he’d done a solid job.
Lindsay waved her hand. “Petros is fine, but Lars wants to go a different direction with this.”
I was still getting used to the fast-moving, ever-evolving nature of this film production. I could only hope our director shared more than his first name with Lars von Trier. I’d never heard of a character being recast after rehearsals, unless they did something like... my thoughts ran away before I could catch them, and I tried to mentally wipe Cem’s famous dick pic from my mind.
“We’re still shooting in order, right?” My stomach twisted.
Lindsay winked with a knowing smile. “Yes, don’t worry. No intimacy today. Just scene five, as per your call sheet.”
