There's something scarily intoxicating about the acting industry. It's like a siren beautifully singing to lure you closer and closer to the cliffs, waiting for a fatal collision. Yet (to her family's dismay) it had affected Y/N - and now her little brother, Jackson. Their father had been a lawyer and their mother a teacher; both reliable jobs meant to procure a salary and stability. They had tried so hard to instill the idea of the American Dream and all that nonsense into their children.
Self-destruction must skip a generation, Y/N supposed.
Y/N had spent most of her acting career twiddling her thumbs as she waited for auditions and call backs that never came. She did her best to present everything good and unique about herself on resumes, but (nine times out of ten) not even that was good enough. It was disappointing to say the least and depressing to say the most. Initially, she didn't want Jackson to pursue acting either. All the experiences he'd miss, like all the experiences she missed, could never be replaced. All the self deprecation and angst and the thoughts of 'I'm not good enough' - how in God's name could she wish that upon her baby brother? But, as she sat in the backseat of a white limo, little Jackson sitting across from her, she acknowledged how wrong she had been. He was wearing such an expensive tuxedo, yet he was still pressing his nose to the window's glass and making patterns with the fog. He wasn't missing experiences - he was making them. Like a kid should.
It was her mother who first brought it all to light one evening over dinner, It wasn't all bad, she had said after shoveling runny mashed potatoes onto her plate. And that was true; Y/N had played Odette Polinsky on Hemlock Grove. She was barely eighteen when she got the role and, though job single-handedly saved her career, yet it wasn't even a completely positive memory.
Y/N was the youngest cast member on Hemlock Grove, and was completely (and pathetically) infatuated with a boy who saw her as nothing more as a friend. She had to witness the endless stream of girls come and go, as he conquered them and moved on.
"Did you talk to Ellie?" He whispered in Y/N's ear during the show's second season. He was leaning on his chair, with his elbow propping up his chin as he smiled boyishly. She tried to ignore the tingles as they ran down her spine, swallowing thickly. Ellie was his latest prize and she was constantly prancing around set in tube tops and denim short shorts. He followed her like a moth to a flame.
"Ya, I - I did. She really - likes you." She managed to splutter out. Sometimes, when she was concentrating and focused, she could pretend conversations with him where just a scene. Their interactions all had a script, she would tell herself, therefore there's no reason to panic. But this was not one of those days.
"Mmhmm," he hummed as he scratched his chin with his thumb and index finger. He cocked his eyebrow at her and smiled, his lips slightly parted. He was so close to her, that she could smell his cologne - oranges and mint. Y/N had to stop herself from closing her eyes and leaning in.
"Well, catch you later Oddi!" He said quickly, as he briskly stood up from his chair and cracked his knuckles.
"See you Roman." She replied quietly to herself.
Said boy just so happens to star alongside Jackson. She wondered if he still smelt the same like oranges and mint, maybe he even was -
Y/N shook her head, her curls bouncing around her shoulders. She couldn't think about him today, today was Jackson's day. Besides he had every other damn day to consume her thoughts. She would avoid him and that was that.
"Y/N! Y/N! Look! Look!" Jackson was pointing as he stared at all the flashing cameras and interviewers with microphones stood at the ready. His eyes lit up as he spoke and he smiled that dimpled smile of pure joy. Make those experiences, Jackson, thought Y/N as she smiled and stared with him. Soon enough they were parked and helped out of a limo by a wide shouldered man who fistbumped Jackson. Y/N smoothed out her silver dress (hoping to God, there were no wrinkles) and touched the earrings on her ears (those bad boys cost as much as a mortgage).
The boy bounded outside of the limo and was immediately bombarded by interviewers and questions ("How was working with older actors?" "We're you scared?" "Are you going to see the movie?").
Y/N stifled a laugh as she caught up to Jackson, making sure to look more confident than she really was in her black pumps. She subtly pointed in attempts to direct his attention to an interview who looked kind enough. Immediately the young boy caught on, at seven years old he was more aware of social cues then Y/N. Y/N went off to stand next to her parents, making sure to stay in direct earshot.
"Hello!" Jackson exclaimed happily, interlocking his fingers and letting his arms go slack. He looked so professional and gentlemanly, Y/N could've sang.
"Hello there Jackson! It's so great to talk to you!" The interview knelt a bit, getting down to his level. She was tilting the microphone towards his mouth as she smiled genuinely.
"And you!"
"Thank you very much! Anyway, so both you and your sister have both worked with Bill Skarsgard right?"
Oh boy here it is.
"Yep!" Jackson said just as happily.
"How did you like it?!"
"Well, his costume is kinda scary but I saw him - em - get ready and stuff so - so it wasn't too bad. I mean, eating me was kinda scary but not too too bad. He's actually really nice and a really good actor and he told me a lot of stories about my sister and a lot of them were really funny but some of them weren't really funny." Jackson rambled, his tongue was officially detached from his brain. Now it wagged along in his jaw.
"What were the not so funny stories?" The interviewer asked puzzled, as she tried to reposition herself so the microphone was right underneath Jackson.
C'mon kid. I love ya. I care for ya. I support ya in all aspects of life. But if you say some of those not so funny stories, you better hope to God you - Y/N's mind was in complete freefall, every secret fantasy, dream, and hope was currently abandoning ship.
Jackson, giddy as ever, had no problem wagging his tongue some more. He took a deep breath of air before saying, "Well, he told me about how sometimes on the show he would try to - um - get her attention and it never really worked and she never liked him. He told me that she thought he was, well, I dunno what it means so it could be a bad word ... "
"Go on, I'll make sure it isn't a bad word." The interviewer egged on. Y/N was starting to like this woman less and less.
"He said that she thought he was a player." The interviewer just laughed and assured him that 'player' was not in fact a bad word before asking him other questions about the movie.
Y/N looked around her as if to say, Did anyone else just hear that? Her jaw was now completely slack as she hung it open stupidly. Her shoulders unstraightened, her back slouched, and she had to check to make sure that the earrings were still hanging from her ears.
"Did you hear that?" A familiar voice asked in her ear as tingles shot down her spine. Y/N looked up at the tall god that was Bill Skarsgard and nodded fiercely, as she felt her forehead with the back of her hand. Was she ill? Because now she was feeling a bit feverish in this dress.
"Did you really?" He asked again, looking down at his shoes and smirking, his lips just parted. She just nodded again. "Well, I suppose the truth is out there." His slight accent on the word 'there' caused Y/N to smile widely.
"I never thought you were a player. I thought you were ... popular." Y/N finally said, breaking the tension. Bill tipped his head back, his hands in the pockets of his tailored trousers, and gave the heartiest laugh. The breeze caught his hair and Y/N could smell oranges and mint on the wind.
Once he had stopped laughing, all Y/N could think was just say it, just say it.
"I - uh - I well I was trying as much as - I - well wanted your attention too." Y/N finally spoke out, raising her voice to make sure he heard it too. "Wow - I always thought you didn't like me and I want you to kno-"
"HEY CAN WE GET A PHOTO OF YOU GUYS?!" A photographer interjected the sweet moment much to Y/N's dismay. But Bill snaked his hand on her waist and softly pulled her into him, so she was pressed into his long torso. She smiled at the small gesture, looking down at his hand as she felt him smile down on her.
