Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 65643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
“I’d appreciate it,” I said begrudgingly.
Julian laughed. “I can tell.”
“It is about Destiny.”
“Yeah, I could tell that, too.” Julian paused. “Just be careful with Adrian. He’s brilliant, but he’s an asshole. If you piss him off…”
“He won’t cast her, I know.”
“He’s more vindictive than that. He might cast her just to make her look bad in the role.”
“And tank his own movie?” I asked in disbelief.
“The guy comes from deep pockets. He’ll self-finance a follow up that wins an Oscar.”
I shook my head, amazed as always by what crawled in and out of this town. “Thanks for the warning.”
I hung up with Julian and headed home to get my head on straight. Noemi swore by Transcendental Meditation. I’d never gotten into it, but a few hours alone, swimming laps in the cold, clean water of the pool, looking out at my view, and things usually came together in my head. And if they didn’t, well, I’d figure it out anyway.
I had to, for Destiny.
I’d only been sitting next to Adrian Yester for ten minutes when I came to the realization that Julian had understated how much of a prick he was.
Twenty-eight with a vaguely European accent, only a couple inches shorter than me, but he couldn’t have weighed more than Destiny. He was gaunt in a way that might look elegant when he was an old man, but for the time being, he just looked sick. He was wearing a pair of gray stonewashed jeans that I recognized from basically every picture I’d ever seen of him, and a black leather bomber jacket that smelled like smoke.
Julian introduced him like he was a long-lost brother, but there was a smirk playing around the edges of his mouth. He sent me a look that said good luck with this asshole and seated himself on the opposite side of the table. Ostensibly, he was only a couple feet away, but there was a massive centerpiece that blocked him from view.
That was fine with me. I wanted Adrian’s undivided attention.
I could tell he was happy to give it, even though there was a layer of condescension over that accent that I was becoming more and more convinced was fake. His dark eyes kept darting around, landing on people he found more interesting than me, apparently, but I was the only one listening to him, so he wasn’t going anywhere.
Listening to him was an exaggeration. I was looking back at him and nodding and occasionally throwing out bullshit comments like ‘yeah, it’s a new paradigm.’ He was obsessed with the paradigm, whatever the fuck that was. All I understood was that it was new, and that animated his otherwise droll voice.
Finally, he got started on the topic of his new movie. I’d been wondering how I was going to bring him around to that without making him suspicious, but he brought up Destiny’s name even before I could.
“You know who auditioned for the role of Marla?” He leaned in close so I could really enjoy the smoky leather smell of his jacket. “Destiny Pollock.”
“Oh yeah?” I feigned surprise. “Was she any good?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, she actually was.”
Shit, maybe this was going to be easier than I expected. I tried to keep my voice neutral. “So she got the part?”
“No one has the part yet,” Adrian corrected sharply, like I was overstepping.
I raised my eyebrows and waited, letting the silence lengthen. He looked like he was chewing on something he wasn’t sure he liked. His mouth kept working, but nothing was happening.
“The problem is, she’s fucking Magical Melody,” he said finally, pronouncing it like it was some sort of vile revelation. “So if she’s Marla, people aren’t going to be thinking about post-modern feminism and the role the matriarchy has played in oppressing itself, they’re going to think about fucking Magical Melody.”
I nodded thoughtfully while inside I wondered what the fuck he was talking about. Post-modern feminism? The role the matriarchy has played in oppressing itself? Sometimes I wished life was a movie so I could call cut and regroup. For example, if I could send Adrian off to craft services for a scene break, I’d go ask Julian what the hell this movie was about and if he’d even read the full script.
But I couldn’t, and it didn’t matter anyway. This was what Destiny wanted, and I was here to get it for her.
“Magical Melody was a long time ago,” I said, banking on the fact that eight years would feel like a long time to this twenty-eight-year-old wunderkind.
“Sure,” he acknowledged. “The problem is, my target audience grew up with her. It’ll be a challenge to get them to see Marla instead of Melody.”
I scratched my chin the way I’d seen him do no fewer than ten times in the last hour. “True,” I said slowly. “But isn’t the challenge part of the fun? Everyone knows you’re hot shit as a director, right? If you make another brilliant movie, it’ll be par for the course. But if you can transform how an audience sees a major public figure, well shit.” I trailed off, partly because I was out of bullshit to spew, partly because I could tell what I’d already thrown out was landing. Now I needed to let it settle.