"Tell me everything!" Gesine demands before Sandra has even walked through the door of her Beachwood Canyon home.
Sandra shrugs. "It was fine," she offers, as she begins to sort through some junk mail.
Gesine stomps her feet, transforming herself into that obstinate four-year old to Sandra's eight, ready to tell mom that her sister won't play with her.
Sandra guffaws.
Gesine grabs her by the elbow and pulls her over to their round dining table. "Sit! Spill it."
"He's shorter than I'd expected. Still has most of his hair." Sandra continues to thumb through her mail.
"He's shorter than... Most of his hair? Isn't he like late 20s?"
Sandra smirks.
"Sandy! Ugh, stoooppp!! Come on, don't mess with me. I walked your dogs, you describe every second. We had a deal."
"Alright, alright, alright," she feigns acceptance, but so enjoys torturing her sister. "He's nice, if you like the tall, dark and handsome type, I guess."
Gesine swats her sister's hand and glares.
A couple of years ago, Sandra and Gesine saw Point Break in the theater. Five times, if anyone was counting. They had regular debates about Team Keanu vs Team Patrick Swayze, his co-star. Gesine fell firmly into the Keanu camp while Sandra was wishy-washy, but what else is new? She'd always had a hard time committing to anything, from a lipgloss shade to a name for her truck, and yes, this includes preferred Hollywood "heartthrobs". The greatest mystery of her life thus far was how she'd remained in her current relationship for so long. Secretly, her family suspected her boyfriend's back-to-back projects and out-of-town press junkets might be related. Sandra felt most at ease an arm's length away.
"Okay. He's tall, like I said. He seems cool, respectful. He spent a lot of time pushing his hair off of his face. Ridiculously shiny hair, by the way," she rolls her eyes, "On what planet does it seem fair for a guy to have hair like that?"
"He's so beautiful," Gesine purrs.
"Really smooth skin, too..." Sandra stares off for a moment.
Gesine shoots her sister a look. "Smooth skin. Smooth skin and shiny hair?" She laughs. "You think he's ho-ot! I knew it! I was right. Team Keanu!"
Sandra sneers. "I never said he wasn't good-looking. I don't know, I haven't seen the dude dance yet so we'll just have to wait and see. Patrick is still up there," she winks.
Gesine is incredulous, but continues, "Whatever. How'd it go?"
Sandra cringes, holding her head with her hands. "I...I accused him of grabbing my ass."
"You did what?!?"
"It slipped out. We had to roll around on the floor in front of everybody and, you know how I am if something is uncomfortable. I turn into Roseanne Barr or something."
"Sandy, you've been on so many of these auditions. What was so uncomfortable?"
"Look, in my defense, it was really funny. You shoulda seen his face for a minute." Seeing her sister's mouth fall agape, she quickly continues. "Stop worrying. He laughed, it's fine." Did I blow it? Sandra wonders, thinking of the leggy blonde that walked in before her.
Gesine hands Sandra a beer as she puts Notorious, her favorite movie, in the VCR. "I want that," she sighs, pointing to a black and white Cary Grant embracing Ingrid Bergman.
Alicia: Say it again, it keeps me awake.
Devlin: I love you.
Gesine snickers. "Is that what it'll take for you to agree to Nathan moving in? Just have him kiss you like Cary kisses Ingrid?"
"He doesn't want that...we're both so busy, you know...and he doesn't want dogs."
"Sandy, he helped you rescue that dog. He loves dogs."
She ignores Gesine's point and returns to the movie. "We're fine. Besides, we're still getting to know each other—"
"Do you even hear yourself? You've been together for three years! What are you afraid of?"
What is she afraid of? Right now, she decides, she is afraid of missing the rest of her movie.
~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*
Keanu grimaces as a well-built man stands behind him, arms ready to catch whatever falls. The stench of metal and testosterone is overwhelming in the LAPD on-site gym. "Keep going, man, keep going. You got this, don't be weak. Five more, five more."
There's a dark ring of sweat around his neck, causing his grey shirt to stick to his skin. Arms shaking, he presses out ten more before he hangs it on the rack with a loud CLANG! He remains on his back a few minutes, panting. Justin punches his shoulder, "Nice work, bro."
Keanu stands to spot the L.A. SWAT officer. They've been training together for a few months in preparation for this film. His partner, Toby, chats his way through some curls. "How'd it go today? Did you get your girl or what? Is she hot?"
Keanu dodges his question. "I gotta cut my hair. Filming starts in three weeks."
Justin stands up, "We got you. We can do it in the locker room, right Toby? You got your clippers?"
"Always," he deadpans. "How do you think I stay so pretty?" Toby strokes his military cut and bats his eyelashes.
Keanu looks at Toby, then back at Justin. "Sure, let's do it." The guys slap his shoulders as they head back to the lockers.
Minutes later, Keanu sits on a cement bench as Toby turns on the razor. He watches in the mirror while locks of hair fall to the floor. His jaw clenches as he thinks of what lies before him. It's not a challenging role, not as fulfilling as some of his recent work. A bomb. On a bus. Typical blow it up crap his agent insisted on doing after the success of Point Break. He yearns for artistry but his agent yearns for a paycheck and for now, he is stuck.
He feels his muscles tense up. Straightening his spine, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.
Inhale, exhale, inhale again.
His mind takes him to the Buddhist lamas he trained under in Nepal during the filming of Little Buddha.
"There is no path to happiness: happiness is the path." (Buddha)
Inhale, exhale, inhale again.
He opens his eyes as his muscles relax. The reflection he sees now is not of a movie star. He reaches up to feel his scalp and he loves it. If I'm going to do this, he thinks, I'm gonna fucking do this. Let's go.
~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*
Back in Sandra's house, the credits roll. Gesine gathers the beer bottles.
"I guess I better call Nathan back," Sandra mutters.
"Where's he at now, London?" Gesine asks.
She nods, reaching for the phone and jumping as it rings in her hand. Rather than pick it up, she freezes. "That's too fast. It's too fast, this is bad news."
It continues to ring while she stands there. Two times, three times, four. Finally Gesine grabs it and shoves it at her. "Hello?" she whispers.
It's the director. "Ms Bullock! Look, I have to keep this short, but I wanted to be the one to call you. We all loved you and we'd like you to play the part of Annie. Whatdya say?"
Sandra's jaw drops and the phone slips out of her hands. Jan's voice can be heard through the line as Gesine scrambles to pick it up and shove it back into her hands. No movement. She cups her sister's face and taps it a few times. It works. She places the phone to her ear and to her embarrassment, shrieks, "Yes! Yes yes yes!! Like now? I can come now. Wait." She laughs. "No, of course. I'm an idiot. When? YES!!!"
Jan laughs at her awkwardness. It's like she walked out of the script, ready to go. "We'll be in touch with the details, but soon. Looking forward to telling a great story with you, Sandra."