All my life, I've been told I wouldn't make it as a writer.
Well, no, not all my life. The funny thing about people is their expectations— everyone puts expectations on someone else at some point and then becomes disappointed when that person doesn't meet them... but when did anyone ever ask for someone else to give them expectations?
For me, expectations from others started young. I loved reading and read way above my reading level. My teachers thought it was fantastic and kept giving me harder and harder books to read. Then, my fourth-grade teacher encouraged me to write stories one day because she thought since I loved to read, I'd like to write— and she got that part right. I started writing stories. It began with talking cats and dogs, and then as I gained the courage and ability to write better, I started creating original characters who were actually human. I filled notebook after notebook with short novels written out on lined paper.
My teachers, intrigued by my story-telling potential, talked to my parents. My parents, ever enthusiastic about a gifted child, bought me a laptop at age twelve to encourage my writing. They praised me as my teachers did— talented, gifted, creative, smart, beyond my years. I wrote my first full-length novel at age twelve, encouraged by everyone around me.
Back then, my parents were enthusiastic and supportive. And with their support, I became passionate and excited.
"You got an A+ on your creative writing? That's our little writer!"
"You'll be in bookstores in no time, Maisie! You're so talented!"
The more encouragement I received, the more effort I put into writing. I worked hard on multiple stories a week, typing on the expensive laptop holed up in my room. I wanted to keep getting that praise from everyone around me. I began posting online and gaining a following. Every day was exciting.
But as time went by and I got older, everyone's words of encouragement turned to words of criticism. Writing was not an actual job. No longer did they care about my stories and plots. They wanted to see me secure a stable future. They wanted me to focus on school instead and think about what would look good on college applications.
"You're writing again? You really should be studying."
"Staying inside all the time makes you look lazy, you know."
Then those criticisms turned to words of doubt. It didn't matter that I'd gotten a scholarship thanks to my writing— it wasn't a viable future for me in the eyes of my parents. It didn't matter that my stories were blowing up online— they were people I didn't know personally, and no one really understood online fandoms. It didn't matter that I grew up hearing that writing was my calling, and I'd spent the past years working on following that calling— it was now wasted time.
"You'll be graduating high school soon. You need to stop wasting your time writing. Get studying."
"Are you even focusing on your future, Maisie? Do you know how many writers actually make it? I don't mean to be harsh, but it won't be you. Let's be realistic."
"What if one day you find out you're not actually good at writing, and you've wasted all your life on it? Then what? What will you do, Maisie? You need to make money."
"Look at your siblings— they all have stable jobs and a good income. You should want to be like them. Are you going to live off us forever?"
It was the age-old tale— money or happiness. I'd chosen happiness with the hope money would follow suit. My parents wanted me to choose money with the chance of happiness to come. But it was my life, and I wanted to make my own decisions and choose my own path. Even if I had to lie in the process.
Even if no one believed in me along the way.
"Stop wasting your time, Maisie."
Somewhere above me, a crow called out sharply, pulling me from my reverie, and I took a deep breath, trying to force those thoughts away. That was all in the past. I didn't need to be bogged down by it.
"And it's not a waste of time now, is it?" I mumbled to myself, staring up at the sleek, modern building in front of me. Infinite Studios— the studio producing the movie based on my book. Here, my dreams would become reality. All my hard work would pay off.
I'd been to the studio before, but I felt especially anxious today. It was the first day of filming. I'd be seeing my book being turned into a movie in real-time. My stomach flip-flopped from a mix of nerves and excitement. I still couldn't believe it was happening, even though it'd been in motion for over a year now.
It was such a struggle to not share any news with my readers, but whenever a writer is told to keep a secret, there are certain people they tell, anyway. For me, that was Levi. I told him all my secrets that I couldn't keep to myself, and he'd never told another soul.
I immediately texted him a picture of the studio's main building.
Maisie: Today is the first day of filming. I just got here. I'm so nervous.
He answered almost immediately.
Levi: Wow! That's so amazing! I'm so proud of you, Maisie. Don't be nervous. All your hard work is paying off.
Levi: Remember to be confident today. You were specifically asked to oversee the film, so don't hide in some corner! I know you. Try to make some friends, okay?
I smiled down at the text message. Although I had never met Levi in person, he was still my best friend. We'd known each other for almost a decade now, and not one day had passed where we hadn't talked to each other in some form of way. Between texting, sending each other funny videos on social media, and playing video games together over discord with some of our other gamer friends, Levi was a constant in my life. Constant friendship and constant support.
Sometimes I felt sad that he was more supportive than my own family, but I didn't dwell longer than a few seconds on it. Someday my family would be more supportive of me. I knew they would.
And for now, I had Levi. And I was grateful for it.
But as for the making friends bit of his text... that was another story. I didn't have many friends in real life. Online? Sure. Between my readers and my online writer friends, I could say I had a lot of friends. But for real life, in real life friends? Well, I could count on half of one hand how many I had of those. And even with those friends, any time I spoke of my writing, their eyes would glaze over, and they would lose interest, just muttering oh and yeah, cool. So, Levi became the only person I talked about my writing with, and even more so when I decided I needed to keep furthering my writing career a secret.
Still... this probably was a good opportunity to try to make friends. There would be more people I'd been around in my life on set every day. I was bound to make friends with someone... right? How hard could it possibly be?
I threw the hood of my hoodie over my head, tucking my hair under the collar. Wearing a hood weirdly gave me a sense of safety in a way. I was always told to take it off, but I didn't see the issue with having it on.
Hesitating for only a moment more, I entered the building, trying to swallow my nerves. It wasn't my first time here, so I didn't need to be like this. But the director had told me to meet her before filming began and hadn't told me exactly where she would be. I figured she would be inside the studio, but the filming would take place in the backlot where the sets had been built, so there was a chance she could be milling around out there, too.
It was oddly quiet inside the main building, considering how hectic the set had to be. The receptionist looked up from his computer immediately as my sneakers squeaked on the polished floors. His eyes narrowed a bit as I walked over to him. "Can I help you?" he asked.
"I'm looking for Director Ahn," I said, feeling sweat bead on my forehead under his gaze. I resisted the urge to pull at the neck of my hoodie. Why did it feel so suffocating all of a sudden?
"Everyone is looking for Director Ahn," he said flatly. "What are you? Sound? Lighting? Make-up?"
"I'm the..." I stopped myself, biting down on my tongue. That was close. "I'm a script supervisor."
"Then you should be on set already."
I blinked. "What? I thought filming didn't begin for another hour?"
"Supervisors are supposed to be on set two hours beforehand to go over the script," he stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You're late. Head to the back lot immediately. Director Ahn will be waiting."
My chest tightened as I hurried past the desk and down the hall that led to the back exit. Why hadn't Director Ahn told me that? Although my role was technically a façade, it was still one I had to keep up. No one could know I was actually the author of the book. Director Ahn had wanted me on set, and this was the compromise we'd come up with— I would oversee production as long as no one found out who I was.
Director Ahn didn't understand why I needed to keep it a secret at first, but she'd agreed after I explained myself. I'd been lying to everyone I knew except for Levi for almost six years now. I couldn't have it be undone now... not yet. Not until I reached all my goals and could prove myself to everyone who told me I couldn't achieve anything as a writer.
My parents believed I'd gone to school for nursing and had been working as an RN for the past two years after graduating... but the truth of it was that I'd never even gone to college. I'd moved out of my family's house at eighteen, started lying to them, and worked part-time jobs to pay rent as I wrote and wrote, trying to further my writing career. I avoided my family as much as possible, so I wouldn't be caught.
It wasn't what I wanted, but it was what I had to do. I refused to give up on my dream. And I didn't. And look where it'd got me. I was on the set for a movie based on my book. I'd made it where everyone told me I could never go.
But... I still wasn't prepared to come clean. Not yet. Not until the movie was released and I could make them go to the cinema with me, and I could show everyone I hadn't made a mistake with my life choices. Then they couldn't say anything negative about my life again.
I clenched my hands into fists. I worked hard for this. I couldn't be outed now. Not only because of my family issues but because I also hid my identity online. I used a pen name and never showed my face. Rarely ever used my voice. I had complete anonymity, and I wanted it to stay that way. Being a big influence on social media left you open to the worse kinds of people. It was just safer to hide my identity. I had enough death threats on the daily. And with my presence online, it was likely someone who knew me in real life would catch on if they found out my real name.
Anxiety was making my hands feel numb the further I walked down the hall. I wasn't ready to go out to the set yet. I needed a moment to collect myself. Pausing, I turned to a random door in the hall and shoved it open, only registering the paper taped to the door at the last second.
Theo—dressing room.
I'd already taken three steps into the room before the sign registered in my head, and I'd turned back to read it again. A sense of dread filled me, and my eyes slowly traveled from the sign on the open door to the interior of the room where a man with dark black hair stood half-naked.
I froze, my eyes glued to the bare, broad expanse of his shoulders. His collar bones were prominent, and his skin stretched across the muscle of his chest, his pecs defined and taut from the position he had his arms in. Arms that were also well-defined. My mouth went dry as my gaze dropped lower toward the smooth lines of his stomach, the grooves of hard muscle that I wrote about in my books to hopefully appeal to readers.
When my gaze went even lower, and I realized I was staring at the waistband of his pants, I jolted, taking note of a white shirt in his hand before raising my head, heat crossing my cheeks. He was in the middle of changing. I'd walked in on him changing. And then checked him out.
The man hadn't moved at all, and as our gazes met, I wanted the Earth to open up and swallow me.
I recognized this man. It was Theo Park. The actor playing the male lead in my movie.
"How did you get in here?" Theo asked, his deep voice unnervingly calm as if someone barging in on him was an expected occurrence. His dark brown eyes never left mine, pinning me in place.
"H-huh?" I responded as if he hadn't asked a perfectly clear question.
Still not releasing eye contact, he began to put the shirt he had in his hands on, sliding one arm in one sleeve and then doing the same with the other, leaving the front hanging open and unbuttoned. I kept catching glimpses of his skin as he adjusted the collar of the shirt. "I know the idea of meeting someone you admire is exciting," he started, "but you still have to respect people's privacy."
Oh my god. He thought I was a fan stalking him. Heat rushed up the back of my neck. "No, that's not—"
"You're not the first who has broken into my dressing room and probably won't be the last." He paused, adjusting the sleeves of the shirt, rolling them up to his elbow. "I guess you should be proud of yourself for getting this far. My manager seems to be lacking at his job again."
"No, I'm just—" I started again, but my voice died in my throat as he started walking toward me, shirt still open, the cotton sliding against his skin with each step.
He paused only a foot away from me, so close I could smell his cologne—something sensual with hints of amber and vanilla— and deodorant. "Are you satisfied?" He stepped closer yet, and I moved back as he did, bumping into the open door. He reached his arm up, catching the top of the door and caving me in, the scent of his cologne even stronger. "Did you get to see what you wanted to see? Or did you want something more from me?"
My face was level with his shoulder, his chest nearly brushing against my nose. I didn't move for a moment, my mind not processing his actions. Then his eyes met mine again, and the muscles of his jaw clenched, and it jolted me back to reality.
He was too close.
I pushed him back, trying not to notice how firm his chest was. He moved back, but I knew it was by his choice, not by force. I backed away from him, holding my hands up in front of myself defensively. "I'm so sorry!"
Turning on my heel, I ran from the threshold of the room and bolted to the exit of the main building, stepping into the crisp October air. Immediately I heard the clamor of dozens of people shouting to each other across sets, calling out instructions, and the banging of hammers as builds were adjusted. I glanced behind me to make sure Theo wasn't following me before leaning against the exit door to catch my breath. I'd barely run at all, yet it felt like I'd run a marathon.
I threw off my hood before I put my face in my hands, groaning. That was not a good first impression. He thought I was a fan creeping on him? Would he think I was a stalker now? And we had to work together now? What had I done? It was going to be so awkward!
But... I thought back to him standing so close to me. He really was handsome. Even more handsome in person than in the films I'd seen him in before. My readers were going to lose it. They were going to go crazy over the cast.
I grinned to myself before shaking myself out of it. Judging by his response, it sounded like he'd had to deal with some overzealous fans before. And although his voice had been calm, up close, anger had laced his eyes. I'd done something to upset him, and I had to apologize later if I got the chance.
The idea made me anxious again, though. It was best for me not to interact with anyone like Theo Park too much to keep my identity hidden, but I needed to apologize.
A little more collected, I went to move off the door, but not before it swung open, making me fall backward. A pair of strong hands caught me and kept me steady, and for a horrifying second, I was worried I'd turn to see Theo standing there. But when I righted myself and looked over my shoulder, a different man was standing there. He had blonde hair tied back into a short ponytail. His eyes crinkled in amusement, and I found myself taking a second glance at them— they were the lightest green I'd ever seen.
"Woah, I'm sorry," he apologized, hands still on my shoulders. "I wasn't expecting someone to be leaning against the door. Are you okay?"
I immediately stepped back so I could turn and face him properly, my cheeks getting warm again. What was this? Why were there so many attractive people here? I didn't know how to deal with this. I only knew how to deal with good-looking fictional characters. Not real people. "I'm okay, thank you," I said when I found my voice.
His eyes narrowed a bit as he studied my face. "Hmm... are you by chance—"
I quickly turned my head to the side. "Sorry, but do you happen to know where Director Ahn is?"
"Director Ahn? I think she was talking to the props master. She should be on set now." He pointed in the direction of one of the set builds. "Over there."
I dipped my head in thanks. "Thanks!" I said before scurrying off before I could get myself into another embarrassing situation.
True to the man's words, as I stepped into the set build, I found Director Ahn immediately. Her long black hair was tied up into a high ponytail, and she wore a black button-up tucked into a pair of light wash jeans. She stood alongside who I assumed to be the props master. I hadn't met many people yet, having not attended the script readings. Director Ahn had still been trying to tempt me into coming onto the set at that point.
When Director Ahn noticed me walking toward her, her face split into a wide grin, and she said a quick goodbye to the props master before coming over to me. "Maisie! There you are." Then she gasped, eyes widening, and a hand shot over her mouth. She came closer to me, lowering her voice. "Oh, I'm sorry. I should have asked this before. What would you prefer me to call you in front of everyone?"
"Maisie is fine," I answered. "Just don't call me by my pen name."
"Great!" She beamed at me. "I can work with that. I know it wasn't an easy decision to agree to come and oversee the filming since you're usually so private, but I really wanted you here, so I appreciate you coming."
I scratched the side of my cheek, embarrassed. "I don't know why you wanted me here so bad..."
Her voice was still low as she spoke. "Because you have a creative mind and wrote an amazing book, and I want to make sure we stay true to it as we film. And you know your book the best, so it makes the most sense to have you here."
I smiled a little at her compliments. "It's really nothing..."
"It feels like a real privilege to know your face, you know? I get to know something almost no one else knows. I'm still shocked you even agreed to let me in on the secret," she said. "But if you ever feel like there's too much pressure here, or you're ever uncomfortable, you can feel free to leave. I feel like I might have guilted you into this."
I shook my head, trying to stand up straighter. I didn't want her to feel bad. "No, not at all. I'm actually excited to—"
"Alright girls, that's enough chit-chat," a loud voice interrupted us.
Both Director Ahn and I turned toward the voice and saw an older man with streaky, dyed brown hair walking toward us. It took me a moment to realize it was the movie's producer, Marco. His hair had been greying the last time I'd seen him. He was dressed in a black t-shirt with a sweater tied around his waist and jeans that looked too tight for his age. Although the set was inside, a pair of sunglasses rested on the top of his head.
"Marco," Director Ahn greeted him, her smile looking more plastered than real.
"I told you inviting the writer would just slow things down. And look, you're already distracted. What are you two talking about? Fashion? Makeup? How handsome Theo is?" Marco rattled off, coming to stand too close to my side.
Marco was the only other person who knew my true identity. I hadn't wanted anyone else to know, but since he was the producer, Director Ahn had suggested we tell him.
Director Ahn's smile tightened. "No. We were discussing how grateful I am that Maisie has come to the set to oversee the movie."
Marco nudged me in the side. "You sure she didn't come to shoot her shot, as the kids call it, with one of the actors?"
I tried to subtly step away from Marco, not responding to his teasing.
Director Ahn's smile fell away completely now, and she folded her arms over her chest. "We're all professionals here, Marco. She came here to do her job, just like you and I did."
Marco nodded absent-mindedly. "Right, right. But you know how girls her age act. You were that age once, weren't you?"
"Maisie is focused on making this movie a hit just like you and I are," Director Ahn said. "She has a massive fanbase. I want to make sure this movie encompasses everything the readers love about the book. And to do so, we need Maisie. She knows her audience. She's not here to fool around."
Marco pursed his lips a little, appraising me. I hated the feeling. I folded my arms over myself. "You're putting a lot of trust in this kid, Director Ahn," he mentioned.
Director Ahn bristled. "Maisie isn't a kid—"
"Oh! The man of the hour is here!" Marco suddenly shouted, thrusting an arm into the air and waving it wildly. "Theo! How are you feeling? We're counting on you today!"
Ice ran through my veins. Theo? Already? I mentally prepared myself to face him, closing my eyes briefly. I could just apologize now and then, and it would be over.
Theo was already staring at me when I turned to face him.
I wanted to run away.
Director Ahn had other plans, however. She hovered her hand behind my back as she gestured me forward. "Theo, I don't believe you've met Maisie yet, have you? She's here as an assistant script supervisor."
I tried not to show my panic. Would this be the moment where he outed me as a stalker? What would happen then? I would just apologize and say it was a mistake and—
"No, I don't believe we met yet," Theo said, his voice calm and polite.
That wasn't what I expected. My eyebrows furrowed. Why was he lying? Or... I tucked my hair behind my ear, remembering my hood was off now. Could he not recognize me because I'd been wearing one? Our encounter had been short. Maybe he didn't remember what I was wearing.
Theo held out his hand toward me. "It's nice to meet you, Maisie."
I hesitantly took it, shaking it. "You, too."
"Your hand is cold," he commented and then paused, his eyes narrowing.
I immediately took my hand back, placing it back at my side. "Uh, yeah, I have cold hands," I muttered, avoiding his gaze.
"You know what they say," Marco said. "Cold hands, warm heart!"
Director Ahn spared Marco a bemused glance before giving Theo a much warmer smile than she'd given Marco when he'd walked up. "I hope you two get along. It's Maisie's first time on set and doing something like this, so I hope you can help her out if she ever needs it, Theo."
Theo smiled back at Director Ahn, all white teeth and just one dimple forming on his right cheek, and for a moment, my heart skipped a beat. How could someone be so handsome? I was really lucky to have him as my male lead.
I bit my lip to keep from smiling. I wouldn't act like a fangirl. I couldn't. I had an identity to hide.
"Now that introductions are over, I actually wanted to suggest a different camera angle for this scene," Director Ahn said, turning her focus to Marco. "Come here and see what you think of this."
I attempted to follow Marco and Director Ahn as they headed off to the set, but Theo held out his arm, blocking me. Confused, I looked up at him. "Yes...?"
Theo frowned, his hands coming up to my shoulders. They slid by my neck, and goosebumps ran down my spine. What was he doing? I was about to step back when he suddenly pulled my hood up and plopped it on my head, pulling it down over my eyes.
"What are you doing?" I demanded, pushing it up and out of my face.
Theo's head tilted to the side a little. "Ah. So, you are the pervert from earlier."
"P-pervert?"
"What else would I call someone who barged into my dressing room when I was half-naked?
I shook my head, pulling my hood off my head again. "No, that was just an—"
"Theo, can you come here for a second? We're thinking of changing your attire for this scene, if that's okay with you," Director Ahn called.
Theo supplied me with an unamused look before walking over to where Director Ahn and Marco had moved to. I stared after him for a moment, my mouth open, and then I hurried to catch up to him, needing to correct him.
"Any change is fine with me," Theo said to Director Ahn, but still looked at the iPad in her hand, depicting a storyboard.
"Well, we're thinking of having you shirtless," Director Ahn clarified.
"A thirst trap, as the kids would call it," Marco added, making Director Ahn cringe visibly.
Theo hummed lowly. "I see. That's fine." He glanced over his shoulder at me, his gaze focused on me. "In fact, I think someone would be very happy about that..."
My scalp prickled.
I was doomed.
Author's Note:
Hello everyone! My name is Jordan, and welcome to my new book! I haven't started a new series in years, so this feels weird. But I've joined the Wattpad creators program, so it's time for another romcom! This one is obviously going to be writer x actor. I hope everyone enjoys it! And thank you for reading!!!
I always find writing the beginning of books so hard. I don't know my characters at all. I'm always like...
Does anyone else feel like this? I hope I get to know Maisie and Theo very quickly so I can get an idea of their personalities and how they'll interact lol.
P.S... I'm not so set on the cover or chapter headers and endings, so these may change in the near future.