Spotlight (7 page)

Once there, Lily dutifully turned off her cell phone and camera, slipping them into her bag. Her stomach did a few somersaults then. It was her first press screening.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to memorize every detail. The décor, the lighting, even the hum of voices filling the lobby. Morgan happily introduced her to all the people she knew. Lily saw some familiar faces as she looked around as well—faces she knew from her longtime interest in the entertainment industry. She managed to suppress a grin at the fact that she was about to watch a movie with the hosts of
E!
and
Entertainment Tonight
. Lily also overheard several people saying they were with this blog or that blog, which she found surprising. She mentioned it to Morgan, wondering aloud how many people in these seats had degrees in journalism.

Morgan smirked. “Probably not many. But don’t forget, you’re here representing a website, too.”

“Oh, I know,” Lily replied. “It’s just that anyone with a blog considers themself ‘media’ these days. And in some sense, that’s true. I just hope they take it as seriously as a journalist should.” A small smile formed on her lips. “Not everyone gets to do this, you know. We’re lucky.”

Morgan smiled at Lily’s impassioned soliloquy. “Here, give me your notebook.”

She handed it to Morgan, who drew a quick sketch of a cartoon Lily in a superhero pose. Under it she wrote the words: LILY THE JOURNALIST. Lily laughed, then thanked her and promised to hang the drawing in her cubicle as a reminder of why she did this.

One of the publicists from the studio made her way to the front of the theater to welcome everyone and give a quick introduction to the film. While others may have needed the refresher on the plot, Lily did not. She had followed the filming through various websites and on Twitter. She had also read the book and had no doubt that Daniel Brighton would make an impressive Dr. Grady Pierce.

Chapter Five

The bed in Lily’s hotel room was covered with a five-inch feather mattress topper, memory-foam pillows filled with even more feathers, and a down duvet—all in white. She should have been able to sink into the crisp, ultracomfortable space and dream she was floating on clouds. Instead, she could hardly sleep.

Lily couldn’t seem to turn her mind off. Her thoughts drifted back to the press screening earlier that night. Her inner fangirl wanted to jump up and down in excitement—not only had she seen
Borderlines
before everyone else, but Daniel had made her very proud. His performance had captivated her attention, and she was sure it—along with the rest of the movie—would be a hit. The journalist side of her agreed and mentally jotted down reminders of all the subtle nuances to mention in her review.

That part of her brain also mentally reviewed her notes for the press junket the next day, committing to memory the questions she wanted to ask each participant. When her mind eventually drifted back to Daniel, she sent up a quick, silent prayer that she would get the opportunity to ask him her questions and that she wouldn’t embarrass herself while doing it.

The next morning she woke up groggy and in desperate need of caffeine and a hot shower. She hurriedly choked down a granola bar, but it did nothing to settle her stomach or the nervousness that plagued her mind and body. She wanted the day to both be over and never to end at the same time.

With a few deep, calming breaths, Lily centered herself and gathered her things into her work tote to head to the hospitality suite on the fourteenth floor. It was much quieter than she thought it would be. Just a couple of people putting packets of information, promotional photos, and the film’s soundtrack into bags bearing the film’s logo. Lily was early—as usual—but she’d expected that at least a few journalists would be there jockeying for a key position.

Had this been a fan event, she thought with wry smile, there would have been girls camped out for days.

Lily signed in and made her way to the ballroom where the press conferences were being held. When she took her first tentative step through the doorway, she was reminded of her high school cafeteria—where seating arrangements were determined by importance. Reporters she had seen on television and those representing major magazines graced the front row. A few bloggers were seated in the back. Lily managed to score a spot in the second row, just a few seats from the middle. She had an angled view of the microphone and was close enough to get decent pictures and good sound quality on her digital recorder. She grinned, pleased with her seat.

The hum of the room soon grew louder and seats filled quickly. The chatter among the group was lively as each of them readied their own recorders and video cameras. Lily saw a few familiar faces thanks to Morgan’s introductions the night before and went over to chat as they waited. Los Angeles was a city of millions, but this group seemed to be close-knit. It was apparent they knew each other well, yet they seemed happy to have someone new in their fold.

Lily made her way back to her seat when the lead publicist for the film stepped in front of the crowd, welcoming everyone. First up was the director, Marcus Williams. He was questioned about the casting of the movie, as well as whether or not he’d already been approached about helming the sequels.

“Well, I guess that will depend on what you all thought of this one,” he answered with a smile.

Lily tentatively raised her hand.
Better to just dive in
.
Like getting over the shock of cold water
, she thought. She cleared her throat as the microphone was passed to her.

“Hello. Could you talk a little bit about filming internationally? It’s clear that was an important aspect of the movie—almost as if Africa is a character itself. Tell us about your experiences there.”

A genuine smile spread across the director’s face. “It was a life-changing experience. I was so moved by the places that we went and the people we met that I had to put them in the film. To go there and see firsthand what life there is like affected us all. It opened my eyes, and I hope what audiences see in the film inspires the same thing in them.”

The actor up next caught Lily’s eye when she saw the film, so she was looking forward to his interview.
Borderlines
was the South African actor’s first role in an American film, and his performance dripped with emotion. He played the local doctor who helps Grady treat some of the villagers. They become quick allies and friends, and while the role wasn’t large—the actor had third billing—it was significant. The time he spent on screen was memorable and left an impact on the audience.

When the microphone was passed to her this time, Lily felt a little more at ease. “Hi. Since this is your first movie for an American audience, tell us what you’d like us to know about your country.”

“First, that you shouldn’t be afraid to visit,” he said with a smile. “I know it may seem scary, but it truly is a place full of wonderful people and interesting culture. Second, that in some ways, it’s a bit like America, with so many different ethnicities and backgrounds coming together in one nation. But you should come see it for yourself!”

Lily took the opportunity to follow up on her question. “Do you think the film is an accurate portrayal of what villagers go through?”

The actor thought a moment before answering. “Well, it is fiction, of course, but there are elements based in reality. Doctors Without Borders exists, of course, and their work in the care and prevention of HIV/AIDS has made an impact. I’d say the scenarios in the film are more possible than probable. But, mainly, I believe the humanity and general . . . goodness . . . in Grady—and my character—are accurate. Courageous people are everywhere, and you often see the best in people under the worst circumstances.”

The next interview was heralded by a young girl—an intern, most likely—juggling two cups of coffee and a pack of cigarettes on her clipboard. Lily knew that meant Daniel Brighton was next. When he rounded the corner, she took in a deep breath and let it out, steeling herself for whatever was to come.

Bulbs started flashing. The buzz in the room tripled in volume. And Lily’s heart hammered away in her chest as all the attention in the room focused on one person.

His slightly uneven walk contrasted with the graceful way he folded his lanky frame into a chair placed at the middle of the table on the platform stage. He looked tired as he reached for one of the cups of coffee provided for him, but happy to be there. Lily could tell that he was nervous about facing a room full of reporters by the swift move of his long fingers over the stubble covering his chin. She had no way of knowing if the other journalists in the room had picked up on this habit.

With a soft smile and quiet “hello” to the crowd, things got started. Lily tried to pay attention to the questions that were being asked and the responses to them, but found herself drawn to watching Daniel. The way he handled the onslaught of questions was rather fascinating. It was clear that he took each one seriously. He held eye contact with whoever posed the question and answered them directly. He took a moment to form his answer, wanting to be as honest as possible. And those answers turned out to be thoughtful and, quite frequently, clever.

The press conference moved at a brisk pace. The reporters all wanted the opportunity to ask Daniel at least one thing since he was the big draw for this movie. Lily patiently waited her turn. Her hand went up, and she caught the eye of the person holding the audience’s microphone. He gave her a slight nod, indicating that she’d be next. While she waited, she locked eyes with a man to the right of the stage who seemed startlingly familiar. She held his gaze for a beat, trying to place him, but couldn’t before it was her turn.

Lily took the microphone when it was passed to her, gripping it so hard that her knuckles turned white. She bit down on her bottom lip and took a deep breath in through her nose as Daniel finished answering the previous question.

Lily had no idea what had been asked.

After a beat of silence, the organizer pointed to her. “Right up front, Daniel.”

Here goes nothing
.

The corners of Lily’s mouth twitched up in a fleeting grin as the actor’s eyes locked on hers. She fought to keep her expression serious despite her excitement.

“Hello,” she began. Daniel voiced a quick greeting back to her before she continued. “It’s obvious that charity shapes a big part of Grady’s character. In this case, he’s just one man working toward something bigger. Do you think people who have a bigger voice—people with your celebrity, for example—should use those voices to support causes that are personally important to them?”

Daniel’s eyes widened enough for Lily to notice. Holding her gaze steady, he looked at her as though he were trying to figure her out. The question obviously wasn’t what he was expecting. Lily tried her best to keep her composure as she waited for his response. Her only tell was the anxious back and forth of one sling-back pump tucked behind the other. It felt like an eternity, but Daniel was quick to recover.

“Yes, I do think it’s important for celebrities to use their voices to support causes. But that goes for everyone else, too. When you’re talking about helping others, no voice is too small. Even the guy standing on the street corner holding up a sign has something valuable to say. Speaking up for something you believe in is the greatest use of freedom of expression.” He sighed and ran his fingers across his chin one more time. “I guess celebrities just have louder voices, and they should use them responsibly. The attention I can bring to the causes I believe in and the money I’m able to donate because of what I do help make the rest of this worth it.”

Lily’s interest was piqued.

“What causes are those?” Something in his tone made Lily think he had specific charities in mind when he said that.

“Arts in education programs, for sure,” he replied. “They are horribly underfunded. I made a donation to help build a theater at a local high school, for example, and I volunteer—when I can—at an after-school arts program for underprivileged kids. They teach everything from painting to drama. And there are a couple of others I donate to and do volunteer work for on a more personal level. But it’s not about attention for me. It’s about giving back. That’s what’s important.”

As he finished his statement with a self-deprecating shrug, Lily felt as though she had gotten to know a small piece of the real Daniel Brighton. Breaking eye contact, she handed the microphone off to the next person, but while that journalist asked her question, Lily’s gaze returned to Daniel, and he gave her a genuine smile before turning his attention to the next inquiry.

Another fifteen minutes passed before Daniel strolled out of the ballroom and Lily was able to let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She took one look at the hastily written words in her reporter’s notebook and silently thanked God that she had brought her voice recorder. She remembered him talking. She even remembered him speaking to her. But she couldn’t for the life of her remember exactly what he said. And her notes were little help. On the pages were random groupings of keywords she thought would trigger her mind. So far, no luck. But she figured when she listened to the recordings, she would piece it all together.

Twenty-seven minutes and two seconds. According to Lily’s voice recorder, that’s how long Daniel spent answering questions. About three minutes and fifty-seven seconds into the recording her own voice was on there talking to him! She couldn’t help but shake her head in disbelief. This recording wasn’t going to be erased anytime soon.