On the Set
“That’s lunch! Be back in one hour. That includes traveling time!” Jackson, the director, shouted through his megaphone on the set of Rome’s movie.
The scene they’d been working on was particularly difficult, so he was ready for the break. When he’d originally auditioned for this movie, he’d wanted to play this part because it would push his acting to new levels, but it was also emotionally draining, so he was glad to have a few minutes to go into his trailer and recoup. While most of the rest of the cast and crew would choose to go out and grab something to eat at a local restaurant, Rome would spend his hour focusing on the next scene while he nibbled on a sandwich from craft services.
“Do you need anything, Mr. Verona?” his assistant, Phil Brink, asked as Rome headed inside of his trailer, which was parked not far from where they’d been shooting, out in the desert. It was still within driving distance of LA but seemed like it may as well be another planet. Thank goodness for air conditioning.
Phil, who had been Rome’s assistant on movie sets for a couple of years, was a good guy, but was often way too formal. “I’m good,” Rome said, giving him a little wave with his free hand as he pulled the trailer door open with the other. “You can go.”
“All right. Thank you, sir. I’ll be back before the hour is up to see if you need anything. Your phone rang a few times while you were shooting.”
“Okay. Thanks.” He imagined that it was likely Ella or his mother. They were about the only ones who ever called while he was shooting. Ella would only call if it was important since she knew his shooting schedule.
Inside, Rome found his phone sitting next to the sandwich he’d snagged earlier and a copy of his script. Before he checked it, he grabbed a cold water from the small refrigerator and wiped his face with a wet cloth. He’d have to have his make-up fixed before they started shooting again anyway, so he may as well get some of the grit off of his skin.
He had two messages. One was from his mom. The other was from an unknown number. Alarmed, his gut tightened, as he remembered all of those days he’d been terrified that his parents would discover where he was, but then he realized those days were over. There were still secrets to be uncovered, but he doubted this had anything to do with Ella still being alive.
He listened to his mother’s message first. She just wanted him to call and check in--as usual. Then, he clicked over to the other message.
“Mr. Verona, hello. This is Al Lancaster. I’m one of the head producers for what used to be your father’s company. Now that the contract is complete, we’d like to meet with you, introduce you to the new owners, and get an idea when you are available to start filming your first movie with us. Ten movies is a hefty contract number, so we’d like to get started right away. Give me a call at this number, and we’ll figure out when is a good time. The new owner is flying in from Paris next Monday. He should be here for a couple of weeks, so if you can fit us into your schedule, we would appreciate it. Won’t take long. I know you’re filming another movie right now, so we’ll work around your schedule. Talk soon.”
Rome stared at the phone for a moment. He knew of Al Lancaster and had met him a time or two when Rome was younger. He was one of his dad’s head honchos--or had been anyway. Now that the company had shifted hands and his dad had nothing to do with it, remembering the company belonged to someone else would take some getting used to.
Meeting with the new owner and discussing his obligations brought a wave of anxiety over Rome. He hoped whoever the new man in charge was that he would know what he was doing and select some quality films for Rome to star in. If his current project took off the way he hoped it would, he could potentially be looking at some award nominations. The last thing he’d need is some idiot, brand new producer casting him to play subpar roles in what were sure to become B movies. He had to trust that this person would know what he was doing and not want to embarrass himself or lose any money.
At least they wanted to meet with him ahead of time. That was something. Perhaps they’d even give Rome some sort of say in what roles he took on. Deciding he may as well call Al back before he got distracted, Rome glanced at his production schedule and saw that he had the afternoon off next Wednesday. He got Al’s voicemail and left him a message to call him and confirm if that would work for the new owner.
Satisfied that everything would have to work out, Rome sat down and took a bite of his turkey and cheese on rye, his script open to the next scene. He had all of his lines memorized, but he wanted to read through the entire scene and get a feel for the emotions of the other characters as well. It was the complexity of the relationships between the men in the film that had drawn Rome to the production in the first place, and he wanted to make sure he tapped into those emotions as deeply as possible so that everything appeared genuine to the viewer.
Before he realized it, his hour was almost up, and Phil was coming back in to see if he needed anything before heading to make-up. “No, I’m fine, thanks,” Rome assured him. He was a little surprised Ella hadn’t called. She typically phoned during his lunch break, but then, she’d had that appointment or whatever it was that day. Realizing he hadn’t checked in with her on the first day she’d left the house, Rome grew anxious. “Just let me make a quick phone call,” he said, wishing he’d remembered sooner. Jackson would be pissed if he wasn’t ready when the director was.
Phil nodded. “Is there anything I can do to help you out?”
Slightly annoyed that Phil was so eager to please, Rome shook his head and dialed his wife’s number. She didn’t answer, so he left her a message, asking her to text him and let him know she was okay. Frustrated at not having reached her, Rome set his phone down on the counter and headed to make-up, wishing he could trust Phil to check in with her, but since he wasn’t even aware that Ella was still alive, he didn’t want to take a risk with yet another person knowing the truth. Deciding his security personnel would’ve let him know if anything were wrong, Rome went to make-up. He’d check on Ella again on the next break, and if she still didn’t answer, then he’d call Charles.
“Are you okay? You seem anxious,” Phil said as the sun caught his blond hair.
Rome shielded his eyes from the glint and then looked away. “Yeah. I’m fine. Anxiety is just a part of my life now, Phil. You’ll get used to it.” He tapped Phil on the arm, an attempt at reassurance or camaraderie, or some other emotion Rome wasn’t really feeling, and continued on his way to get his make-up touched up.
“That’s really too bad,” Phil mumbled under his breath.
Rome turned to look at him, watching the man who’d known him before his involvement in Tim, Mark, and Ella’s deaths as he slowly shook his head. Rome agreed, but there was nothing he or anyone else could do about it.
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