Starlet's Man

Starlet's Man ~ 1 Setting ~

“Whatever. Just chill. Anything else, losers?”

Manny did not feel guilt. Only the students who worked on the film for their senior project worked for free. Besides, Alan put the project on a funding website and acquired contributors in exchange for some tee shirts and production note emails. The deal was that Alan would pay his reluctant actors for their work. Manny said, “You say you need me in this stupid film and then make me be a Latino rapist. It’s stereotypical bullshit, Alan.”

“Race has nothing to do with it. You’re the best built guy in school and every girl, somehow, thinks you’re hot.” Alan asked his student crew, “A show of hands: anyone see Manny as a person of color?”

The film crew members raised a hand or gave a nod, all accustomed to seeing people of color and knowing they are equals. Blessed with striking genes from his father, a former Latino boy-band heartthrob, and his Irish-American mom with perfect skin, Manny had an athlete’s body with a built-in tan. From his love for sports, he turned natural talent into sculpted, bronze 6’1” perfection at just seventeen years old.

Alan flipped them all off, again, for disagreeing with him.

The video playback assistant said, “Don’t be such an idiot, Alan, and let’s get to work. My grade is on the line, here, too. Stop pushing Manny or we might lose him.”

Alan slammed his body into his director’s chair and pouted. Students snickered.

For a high school senior, Manny was unique. Everyone liked him. He spoke English, Spanish and German fluently,  which helped him connect with others because he understood that meanings get lost in translation. His good looks, wit, and disarming humility endeared him to people. He resisted temptations most of the time and always told the truth if asked. He was also a young man in a  moral state of contradiction, a product of Hollywood culture—a potpourri of ethnicities and beliefs.

“Of course you look Latino, like Zayn from 1D in a Hemsworth body.” Beth whispered, exaggerating her Polish accent, “You should cover your yummy brown eyes in sunglasses so you don’t tempt me.”

Manny shook his head, dissing her flirtation. “I thought I looked like A-Rod, and isn’t Zayn half-Pakistani, not Latino?”

“A-Rod is off my list of hotties. He’s a cheater.”

“Actors could use steroids, too. They want to be competitive. Look at all the plastic surgery on girls; I’m sure guys do what they need to do.”

She slid her hand along his bicep and smiled. “Glad you’d never cheat.”

He removed her hand. They had dated their sophomore year and were now nothing more than friends. Until his recent breakup with Kate, they always hung out together in their clique. She teased him relentlessly in fun. Besides, she dated his friend, Mitch. He warned, “Don’t.”

She smiled. “What bugs me is that you think I’m hotter when I’m a blonde. Look at you squirm.”

Manny stared at her. “That’s so lame.” He smiled. “But it’s not really that. It’s how you’re packaged. You look like Alan’s mom.” Switching to German, the language they used together when they did not want to share their thoughts with others, Manny shared that Alan’s mom wore the same shirt when she propositioned him.