HAS SHE EVEN ACTED BEFORE? She's a singer, not an actress, this doesn't make sense." I had just told Mason what was said in the phone call, and I didn't know what was happening to me. I haven't felt so much emotion piling up in me all at once and now one by one, they striked me nonstop. I think, despite everything that I had already been through, I've never been so overwhelmed before.
Mason was staring at me, and I expected him to be frowning, or already convincing me to drop the project because of her. I knew he wanted me to get over her, and in all honesty, I've never really gotten over her, how could I? But at least for the past two years I had been able to not talk about her and maybe that has fooled him. Now, all those emotions were surfacing up and for some reason, I wanted him to tell me to drop the project.
Instead of doing any of the things I expected of him, he calmly got up and went to the sink and started washing his cup. The sink water ran with a calming pattern of splatters, and I stared at it until he turned the faucet off.
I watched him do all of these things; wash the cup, dry it, put it away, walk to the living room and bring his plant to the kitchen, watered it, went back to the living room and put it where it had been, and then came back to the kitchen table and sat down. Then he looked at me with such calm eyes I was starting to get mad for no reason. He hadn't said one thing since I told him about her.
"What? Are you not going to say anything? Aren't you going to make me drop the role?"
"Why would I make you drop the role?"
"Because she's also on the project!"
He still wasn't frowning, just looking at me with those doe eyes, and he looked at me sideways like what I was saying was the most unreasonable thing he's heard before. "Maeve, I am not going to make you drop your first," he looks back at the bathroom door where Cameron was still in it, talking with someone. A breath escapes him when the door stays unmoved. "Your first given lead role just because she's on there. I would be a terrible agent if I did that."
I thought I didn't know why I was getting so irritated, but really, those few simple meanings of why I was freaking out and annoyed at both myself and Mason were too clear in my heart.
He stood up, went to the sink and started washing his hands, what for?
"You're going to take the project, you earned it for yourself."
I sat there, staring at the table and listening to the running water. I wondered how much water was needed to be taken up in order for him to wash his hands.
"I..."
He stopped the faucet again and turned around, but instead of coming back to sit down he leaned his elbows on the sink counter and watched me. No, waited for me. He had always known me too well.
"I don't think I can take the project, Mason." It was finally out, I admitted it. And I was half expecting a crack of smile out of his face or something like, 'Ha! I knew it!' But that doesn't happen.
"Sometimes," he looked down at the floor instead of at me. "We think we can't do a lot of things, we think that we're not good enough, or we just can't do it and maybe someone else will be better for the job. But I think, really, we're all just too consumed by our fears to accomplish what we want to accomplish, and those who do accomplish their dreams are ones of the miracle who stepped over their fears instead of letting it consume them."
As he said this, not one moment did he look up at me. During that time, I was too self involved to notice something was up with him and what he had said wasn't exactly towards me. I wish I had noticed, as his best friend.
"Though Maeve," he looked up at me now. "It doesn't have to be one in a million to consume your fears instead of letting them consume you."
Before I could answer him—I had no idea of what I was going to say anyways—the door to the bathroom opened and Cameron came back, the mole on his side cheek being swallowed by his dimple as he gave us a tired smile.
He went by Mason, kissed him on the cheek, and came over to me. "How was the call?"
Mason doesn't answer him, and I wasn't going to either.
"I think I'm going to go on a run." I got out of the chair, threw on a jacket, and headed for the door.
"Wait, bring a mask or sunglasses or something, you know what a mess it'll be when people recognize——"
I turned around—with a sort of anger—when my hand was already on the door, and to a bit of a surprise to me, Mason was right behind me, his usual worried frown back on his face and in his hands a mask.
I took a deep inhale and when I opened my eyes I felt tears on the verge of coming out. I didn't take the mask. "No one will recognize me, no one knows me here."
"Maeve——"
I couldn't hear any of it anymore, I needed air so badly and if I didn't go outside now, it felt like it wasn't fear that was going to swallow me whole but the lack of oxygen that'll come for me. So I ran, I can't remember if I even closed the door, but it didn't matter. I ran and ran, wishing to run away from my problems, wishing to run away from me.
Like I knew, no one bothered me because no one knew me, and it was both a relief and dreadful reminder of the fact I've been invited to Hollywood as a mock.
I wandered around the streets for a bit until my stomach started grumbling, with the sun already setting and not even my phone on me, I proceeded back to our apartment with the slightest bit of shame from bursting out.
Cameron was asleep on the couch with a blanket pulled over him, and Mason was waiting for me when I came back. I don't think I can imagine the number of burdens I had put on him in this life.
Everything was so quiet, but my mind felt clearer than it had since the phone call.
"I can cancel it," he says. "It's still not too late to cancel, we'll find something else for you to play in."
I shook my head, and he didn't look puzzled or any of that, I think he expected it. I was after all a competitor, and even as I had thought I couldn't, I could. I could play in a movie with her, because being on the screen had always been an importance in my life. And even Klarise Kong wasn't going to stop me from achieving that again.
"No, I'm going to take the project. I'm going to take it." And by taking it, I had done my career the justice it had starved for.
MASON COULDN'T MAKE IT to the first day on set with me.
There was something about him that was making me eery at the time, but I was too overwhelmed with everything about myself to look more into it. So as he apologized before leaving our apartment at me, I casually told him I was fine and let him go. I was not fine.
Cameron was still dealing with his jet lag, and even though he offered to come with me to set, when I found him still sleeping soothingly in the morning I decided not to wake him up.
By all means, though as I was being paid poorly in Hollywood at the time and we were renting a small apartment, we weren't in any shortage of money. I'm not just saying that Cameron was sending us money—he did but Mason didn't like that—me and Mason still had our own somewhat amount of money from when I was paid in China. I blinked back my urge to just not go to set and called myself an Uber.
When I got in, the driver turned back at me and then his face cracked into a large grin.
"Hey! I know you!"
I was organizing my purse but at that, my spirits jumped up. I smiled my pleasing smile to him, "Oh, is that?"
He started nodding, taking his phone out and then he snapped a quick picture at me, his eyes on the screen of the picture he's taken. It made me a little uncomfortable, but I've gotten used to overlooking certain things.
He then looked up, still grinning. "Yeah, you're that girl who exploded in X-Men! Jeez, I can't wait to show my friends this, we all thought you were so goddamn hot in it." He went back to his phone where his fingers started tapping the screen aggressively.
My small grin dropped and I slouched back a little in my seat. Suddenly it felt like the world was trying to claw its jaws at me, swallow me.
He turned around again behind the wheel when we were on the highway at some point, and then he frowned a little, staring at my face. "You know, you do look a little asian now that I'm seeing you in person."
I forced a smile back at him before looking out the window, my own reflection dancing off of the glass at me. "Yeah, because I am and Hollywood is a bitch."
When I finally arrived at the film set, I was at least thirty minutes early, and only the few crews were there.
"Information ID please," one guard stopped me from going in and I pulled out my phone to show him what the caller had told me to show. He nodded and let me in.
The place was filled with cameras and lights, a few green screens, and these were the things I had always been so used to seeing. But this time, for some reason, everything felt a little bigger.
The producer I slept with that had landed me this role, Mr. Henreid, he was sitting in front of the camera when I arrived. His head shot around at the sight of me, arms outstretched and smiling, he bawled toward me like I was one of his dangly girlfriends. Or maybe that's what he thought I was.
"Oh Maeve, how nice to see you. Come come, let me show you some of this camera stuff."
A chair next to him was offered as he showed me the cameras and microphones, throughout it all the crew were giving me these sort of looks. I knew what they were thinking, I'd be thinking it too if I were them. It was obvious as day that I had slept with Mr. Henreid and now I am the lead female role, hell, they might've still thought I was sleeping with him. If only they knew what I really was.
One by one, crew members and actors and actresses dropped in. Their assistants next to their sides, personal makeup staffs pouting things onto their faces. I looked around, and other than Mr. Henreid, no one was giving me much of any good attention. Mason wasn't even there with me.
"Here," he pointed at one button near the camera set. "This is the function for..."
He started talking, but by then my eyes were elsewhere.
"Oh, I heard about her, interesting she's choosing to star in this film when she's clearly a singer." Some crew member in the back was whispering.
"I heard all those guys she dumped one by one, they're saying some terrible shit about her."
"Yeah I know right. Oh my gosh, wait wait, shhh, she's coming over here now."
It has been seven years since I last saw her, and she never failed to take my breath away. Not this time, or the other times to come.
Mr. Henreid stood up from his chair, face smiling, arms outstretched again. "Klarise Kong! To what shall I owe you the pleasure to?"