Page 2 of Script
“Yeah, you’ve already said that.”
He continued to pace, punctuating each step with a curse word. It was a long perimeter to pace, at least twenty-by-twenty, so that was a lot of cursing. I focused on the posters on his wall, from movies featuring his clients, including theRapidfilms with me front and center, my quirky sidekick at my side. Action movies with snark and banter had been my golden ticket to the big time. From soap opera wannabe to the face of a franchise, I’d risen like cream on milk. Who knew that an archaeologist solving mysteries with the aid of a psychic would get so big? Of course, comparisons to older whip-wielding archaeologists were made, but fuck that, there was no such thing as a new story. Add some spectacular car crashes, and the first in the trilogy grossed a lot, and with me signing up just for a percentage, it made me rich. Not only that, but I was everyone’s breakout darling.
And the Oscar goes to Finn Kerrigan for his not-quite-dramatic role inRapid Loss!Yeah, right. No one got an Oscar for crashing cars and searching for treasure while shirtless.
“Earth to Finn!” Atlas snapped his fingers under my nose, and the hysterical thought of me being handed a golden statue forRapid Lossdrifted away. Was Atlas done with his pacing already? When he ruminated, it normally took a while, but he’d apparently come up with a solution quick as anything. Or had I been daydreaming too long?
“You’ll never get anywhere by staring out of the window!”
Take that, Mrs. Appleton, sixth grade English. Which one of us was the daydreamer with a career he loves?
Which reminded me—I needed to send my annual charity amount to her and the school. After all, besides the accusations of daydreaming, it was her after-school drama classes that had pulled the actor out of me. Maybe I should add my name to the donation this time, get an auditorium named after me, just to show the residents of Gibson Hills how far I’d come. So far,despitetheir doubts that the kid with verbal diarrhea who couldn’t sit still, could ever amount to anything.
Obviously, they knew how far I’d come given that I name checked the town every interview, and my mom was all about giving out bits of information from my childhood, but there was no school auditorium named after me yet.
I should get on with that.
“Jesus, Finn! Are you even listening to me?”
“I’m listening,” I lied. I could picture the new addition to the school already. A complete stage set-up where anyone could act in peace, with a designated teacher/director, that was a safe space away from the attentions of school bullies.
“So, you agree,” Atlas pushed.
Agree with what? “Yes?” I said, hopeful that this was the right answer.
“Okay. It might cost you, but for now, you taking the part is only a rumor, so it won’t hurt your brand when you pull out.”
“Sorry? What did you just say?”
“What you agreed to. That we pull you out of the movie.”
What? The fuck? No. “Now hang on—”
“You just said—”
“I wasn’t listening.”
He let out a dramatic sigh. “Finn, you know I love your need to do this project, but we have a potentialRapid4 in the pipeline.”
“I’m not doingRapid4.”
“But it’s your franchise,” Atlas said. “Ten percent of ticket income, and a thirty-five-million payday—”
Like I needed more money. “No. Anything butRapid4.”
“Well, there’s no point in signing contracts onThe Cupif you can’t skate—”
“I doubt the due who played Aquaman could really breathe underwater,” I reminded him.
Atlas closed his eyes, pinched his nose again, tense, frowning, and exasperated. “You can’t special effect away the fact that you’re not able to fucking skate, Finn.”
“I have time. Filming doesn’t start until July. So, that’s what, six weeks? I’ll learn to skate just like I learned how to rappel down a mountain.”
Atlas muttered under his breath as I stared at the movie poster forRapid 2: Rapid Start, in which I was seen in the montage as I rappelled heroically to save my sidekick, the bespectacled psychic. I’d cleaned up good on that poster.
At least I think I did. Doubts were my constant companion, because I didn’t always see the square-jawed, blond, and blue-eyed action hero, but instead the kid from Gibson Falls with my deep dark secret. Still, the outside packaging was good, if a little airbrushed where they’d gotten rid of my random freckle. My face sold seats, and that was what theRapidseries had been—a money maker.
I could sell the lead in a gritty movie likeThe Cup, and I refused to doubt that.
