Page 56 of This Time It's Real
“Come on,” Caz says, holding his hand out. “I’ll show you around.”
I take it, knowing that it’s all for show yet feeling my pulse race all the same, and he leads me across set. As we walk, I watch him straighten, his smile widen, easing into a different version of himself. He greets all the makeup artists and extras by name, laughing at jokes I swear he wouldn’t usually find funny, and stops and poses with some of the supporting actors, his chin tipped up at the perfect angle, his hair carefully brushed. Farther ahead, he points out the equipment to me, explaining in detail how the props work and how certain scenes are shot and how the wires here are old and should’ve been replaced months ago but still hold up well enough for flying stunts.
It’s useful material, all things I can work into my blog post later, but I’m acutely aware that I’m not the only one watching him. Wherever we go, countless pairs of eyes follow, the weight and intensity of it all like a blazing spotlight. Directors, camera crew, the other members of the cast. I’ve always known in theory that Caz was under a lot of pressure, but it’s another story to be here with him, to witness how hard he has to work just to make sure he doesn’t slip up in front of all these people.
I can’t ruin that for him, a small voice whispers in my head. I can’t complicate his already-complicated career by revealing that I have a crush on him, knowing he can’t possibly like me back. The best thing I can do to help him is to continue our arrangement without causing any unnecessary drama.
We come to a stop at a set designed to look like the exterior of a palace—half blue screen and half completely realistic-looking, ornate stone pillars—where they’re just wrapping up another scene.
“That’s Mingri,” Caz murmurs to me, pointing at one of the two actors standing before us. “He’s playing the young, orphaned general. Unfortunately, he swears an oath of brotherhood with Kaige over there”—he motions to the other actor—“ who turns out to be the crown prince of the enemy realm, and his father’s murderer.”
“Tragic,” I comment, which earns me a faint, familiar twitch of his lips.
Mingri looks twenty years old at most, but he has the kind of face that seems young no matter his age, with naturally crescent-shaped eyes and dimples that show even when he’s not smiling.
Next to him, Kaige seems to be his complete opposite in every way. He’s around nineteen or twenty years old too, but the somber expression carved into his features and the hard, rigid lines of his face look more suited for someone who’s been alive for decades. He also looks strangely familiar, though I’m certain I’ve never met him before.
As soon as the director calls cut, the two guys walk over to us. Well,Mingriwalks; Kaige kind of just follows, eyes down and poker-faced, dragging his heels the whole way.
“Well, well, the star himself has come to visit us,” Mingri sings in Chinese, doing that weird one-arm-hug thing guys all know how to do. Then he beams at me. “And he’s brought the famous writer with him!”
Kaige merely nods in my direction.
“Come on, Kaige.” Mingri turns to the other actor, nudging him once in the ribs. “The first ever time Caz brings his girlfriend on set, and you’re not even going to say hi?”
Kaige’s eyes widen briefly, flickering to the spot where Mingri’s elbow bumped his shirt, and his ears redden. Then he scowls.
Interesting.
“Hi,” Kaige greets me, though there’s a hard, wary note in his voice. Or am I only imagining it? Before I can figure him out, he glances past me at Caz, and they exchange some sort of look I can’t quite parse. A reference to an old conversation I never witnessed.
Caz shakes his head once, and Kaige clears his throat. “Well, if you’ll excuse me,” he mumbles, and stalks off alone in the opposite direction.
A long silence follows.
It’s definitely not my imagination, then. “Um,” I venture. “Did I . . . do something to offend him, or—”
“No,” Mingri says quickly, flashing me a sheepish grin. “Don’t worry about him. He’s just naturally a bit skeptical of any relationship between actors like us and people from outside the industry.”
I frown. “What? Why?”
“Well, it’s just a lot to handle, isn’t it?” Mingri says, looking surprised I’d even have to ask. Beside me, Caz has gone very quiet, his jaw tensed. “We’re always out shooting, and our schedule’s intense, and we’re either getting too much or too little attention, and the fans can be lovely in some cases, and pretty . . .extremein others. And the thing about celebrities, you know, is that you’re only ever getting a piece of them—often not even the biggest piece. Most people aren’t satisfied with that.”
“Oh.” Now I remember where I’d last seen Kaige’s face—though it wasn’t reallyhisface, but his sister’s. Kailin, a well-known C-drama actress. There’d been a huge news story last year about her dating an accountant. The details are blurry now, but their breakup had been very messy, and very public.
“But don’t worry,” Mingri repeats, his grin broadening. “There are always exceptions to the rule, and whatever it is you guys are doing, it’s clearly working.”
I force out a weak laugh, and a few beats too late, Caz joins in.
Once Caz is finished shooting for the day, I find myself in a corner booth at a bubble tea shop with him and Mingri. Everything here has been painted in shades of teal and pink, and the chic interior decorations appear to have been chosen solely for the purpose of luring in wanghongs to take pretty pictures. It must be working: All the customers here are at well-above-standard levels of attractiveness, and a table of girls dressed in full designer clothes have been unabashedly ogling Caz ever since we walked in here. I try to ignore them and focus on mentally outlining my blog post for the day. Maybe I’ll start by describing the costumes, their texture up close, how it feels to see your boyfriend moving around in historical robes—
Mingri heaves a loud sigh.
I look up. This is maybe the tenth time he’s sighed since his mango milk tea came, which was only five minutes and two giggling groups of wanghongs ago.
Caz raises a brow. “Something wrong?”
“No.”
