Will the Real Abi Sanders Please Stand Up? (17 page)

“Sure. Where’s the bar?” I have no desire, whatsoever, to walk into a crowded bar on my own looking like Tilly. I could get mobbed or anything. Surely Jon realizes this.

“To the left of the reception.”

“Well, meet me in reception. If I’m supposed to be Tilly, people won’t expect me to wander around on my own, will they?”

“Good point. But don’t keep me waiting.”

“I won’t. Promise.”

I replace the handset feeling happy with myself for actually standing up to Jon and letting him know what I want. Then I quickly call Mom and let her know I’m fine. She’s a bit cranky with me for just leaving a note, but she’ll get over it. I don’t have time to get into a full-scale debate about it, anyway.

I then rush back to the bathroom so I can touch up my makeup. The stuff they use on set lasts forever, so it really is just a case of adding more lipstick and a touch of mascara.

As I stare at myself in the mirror, it hits me how used to seeing myself as Tilly I’ve become. I like what I see. It’s cool looking like her. And it’s not a shock now. In fact, sometimes seeing the real me makes me look twice.

Everything’s going to be so strange now that I’ve finished the movie, and I’m not sure I want to go back to how things were before, even if it is only for a short while until I get my career off the ground.

It’s not that I wasn’t happy. I was, sort of. But hanging out with Matt and Liv was never like this. However scared I am, it’s going to be the most memorable time of my life.

I mentally crush the little voice of doubt that starts to rear up inside my head.

Chapter Nineteen

My heart’s hammering like crazy against my rib cage. I don’t think I can do this. Hundreds of people are lining the sides of the red carpet, behind rope barriers, shouting and screaming. And there are loads of cameras and reporters standing there with mics. I think I’m going to be sick, and that’s no joke.

“Ouch,” I cry out, as I feel a pinch on the side of my leg. Did Jon do that on purpose? Because it wasn’t very nice.

“Hurry up, and be quiet,” he says, in a loud whisper.

Yes, I think he did. Why?

The door of the black limousine we’re in is being held open by our driver, but it’s not like anyone would have heard me speak, not with all the noise going on out there.

I slide along the back seat and swing my legs around onto the pavement, trying to hold the sides of my dress together in the process so I don’t give everyone an eyeful. Tilly probably wouldn’t care if she gave everyone a glimpse of her booty, but I do. Bryan offers his hand as I get out. He must have left before us if he’s already here.

As I stand upright, there’s a huge eruption of screams. They must be for me. Well, Tilly-me, obviously. It’s crazy. And exhilarating at the same time.

“Smile and wave,” Bryan says without even moving his lips. “The way we practiced.”

Just as I’m doing as Bryan tells me, Jon takes hold of my other arm and we walk slowly along the red carpet. Luckily I have Jon to lean on, because the noise and flashing cameras are making me feel dizzy, even through the sunglasses Jon brought for me to make sure that I would be taken for Tilly.

I give the Tilly wave and tilt my head to the side with the ironic smirk, just like she does and how I’ve practiced hundreds of times in the mirror.

“Hey Tilly, tell us about your new movie,” yells one of the reporters as we pass.

“Ignore them,” Jon whispers tersely in my ear.

I glare at him through my giant black lenses. Surely he doesn’t think I’m going to speak to them? I’m not stupid.

Suddenly, I realize that I’m overreacting. I’m sure he didn’t mean to get on my case. He’s just nervous about the premiere. And worried about me being Tilly. I glance up at him and smile, trying to say sorry with my expression. I’m not sure if he understands, but he smiles back.

After what seems like forever, we get to the entrance of the movie theater, and as the doors close behind us, the silence hits me. Well, not total silence, but compared to what I’ve just been through…

“Well done,” Jon says.

I nod, unsure whether I’m allowed to say anything yet. There aren’t many people close by, but I don’t want to risk upsetting Jon. Even though it’s not super bright inside the theater, I keep the glasses on. Movie stars do that sometimes, right?

“Hi, I’m Dana,” a young girl in uniform says as she walks up to us. “I’m here to show you to your seats.” She looks directly at me. “I love your movies,” she adds, lowering her voice a little.

I can’t do anything but smile. She must think I’m so lame. Fortunately, Jon speaks.

“Thank you, that means a lot to Tilly.” He puts his arm protectively around my shoulder and a shiver shoots down my spine. “She’s got laryngitis. Doctor’s orders to rest her voice.”

I mouth, “Thank you.”

“Poor you,” says Dana. “Can I get you anything?”

I shake my head and give another smile, which causes her to lower her eyes and blush. I’ve never had that effect on anyone before. You know, in a different time and place, I could grow to enjoy this.

We follow her, and I just know all eyes are on me as I’m walking. It’s the way pockets of silence precede my every step—people are talking, then see it’s me, then stop and stare. I’m not imagining it. Inside I’m counting slowly and taking long breaths. I can’t blush because, if I do, it will ruin everything. Tilly would never blush.

We walk through the double doors and into the gold section of the theater that has individual reclining seats. Dana stops by two seats at the end of a row and gestures with her arm for us to sit down. Bryan nods to Jon and then disappears. So it looks like it’s just me and Jon together for the whole movie.

…

“You were amazing,” I say to Jon when we’re back in the limo and on the way to the party. “Your best movie so far.”

I mean it. He was awesome. I couldn’t take my eyes off him every time he was on screen.

“Thanks,” he says, seeming more preoccupied with checking his messages than talking to me.

“Especially when you arrested Gregory. I was on the edge of my seat.”

“Thanks,” he mutters. “But I wasn’t happy with the editing on that shot. They got my bad side.”

“Well, I thought it was good,” I reply, unsure what to say. There was no need for him to be rude to me. Then again, Vince told me that actors are always hyper-critical of themselves on screen, so it’s probably that. “How long do we have to stay at the party?” I ask changing the subject.

I’m not looking forward to it. Having to stand in silence and have every move I make scrutinized by everyone. I’d much rather we went out for dinner somewhere and spent the rest of the night alone. We wouldn’t have to talk about the movie, if Jon doesn’t want to, which he will have to do while we’re at the party.

“Not long,” Jon replies, giving my leg a squeeze. “We’re here,” he adds glancing out of the window. “Now remember, not a word.”

I grab the sunglasses that I’d put away in my purse for the ride and put them back on. “Got it,” I say just as the driver opens the door.

“Ssshh,” he hisses in my ear.

I’m just about to say sorry when luckily something inside makes me slap a mental hand over my mouth. Why didn’t someone tell me this was going to be so hard? We’re not even in the party yet.

I link my arm through his, and we walk around the outside of the hotel to where the party is being held in a large suite that has
PRIVATE PARTY
written on the board outside. There are loads of people there and, as we head toward the bar, they all want to stop and talk to Jon and congratulate him. He’s all happy now, instead of showing the real uncertain side of himself like I saw in the car. That says something about his feelings for me if he can confide in me like that.

“Tilly, drink?” asks Bryan walking over to us. I nod. “Wine okay?” Another nod.

I’ll be nodding in my sleep at this rate. He passes me a glass, and I take a large mouthful. Gross. I hate wine, especially red. I’d much rather have a beer. But I don’t suppose that’s Tilly’s drink of choice. Come to think of it, I don’t know if wine is either. From what I’ve seen, I think she’s more of a hard liquor girl.

“Take it easy,” says Jon leaning in and whispering in my ear. “I don’t want you falling all over the place, especially as you’re not used to drinking.”

I am so. Except I can’t tell him that, so I scowl at him instead, hoping he’ll get the message.

“I’m not having a go,” he adds. “But you hardly had anything to drink at the club the other week, and look how out of it you were.” I shrug. He has a point, I suppose. “Come on, let’s mingle. And remember, not a word.” His arm rests in the small of my back, sending a shiver rippling through me, and he guides me toward a group of people.

True to his word, we spend the next hour
mingling,
and my feet are killing me and my neck is aching from all the nodding. I tap Jon on the arm when there’s a short lull in the latest conversation, and he leans in, putting his arm around my waist, which makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” I whisper.

“Okay, I’ll pop outside for a smoke.” He kisses me on the cheek.

How come I didn’t know he smoked? I hate smoking.

I follow Jon until we get to the entrance, and he takes a right toward the doors at the back, which lead out to the grounds.

“Don’t be long,” he calls over his shoulder as I go left.

I smile and nod.

There’s nobody in the bathroom when I get there, so I decide to check out my Tilly smile and nod. Except I’ve hardly opened my mouth when I hear the door open, so I rush into one of the cubicles and sit down.

“Trust me,” says a young-sounding girl with one of those high-pitched grating voices. “She’s definitely on something.”

“You don’t know that,” says the girl she’s with.

“If she isn’t, then tell me how come she looks so lifeless. Where’s her usual sparkle? The fire? The reason she gets paid what she does.”

I wonder who they’re talking about. I didn’t notice anyone on drugs; then again, I’m not sure I know what to look for. If it’s someone famous, Liv will love it. She loves celebrity gossip…if she ever talks to me again, of course. I mentally berate myself. Even to my ears, my thoughts are becoming repetitive. I should put all thoughts of Liv out of my mind instead of rehashing the
will she or won’t she ever talk to me again
ones.

Except I can’t stop feeling guilty about her, though I don’t know why. It’s not like I haven’t tried to patch things up. And look at her, with Rich. She’s probably leaving Matt all on his own now, which is nearly as bad as me missing her party because of Jon.

Sort of.

“Well, I love her,” the nicer girl says.

“Whatever.”

I don’t like the sound of squeaky-voice girl. She seems nasty. What’s the poor person they’re talking about ever done to her? “I don’t know what you’ve got against her. I love her movies.” You go, girl.

“You know, she hooks up with all her producers.”

“That’s just gossip.”

“Even if it is, you’ve got to admit she looks really rough tonight.”

I figure they’re talking about that woman, I can’t think of her name, but she was in the comedy about a hairdresser. I noticed her earlier standing at the bar, and she didn’t look that great. Her eyes and mouth had more lines around them than I remember her having on film, and her hair looked like it had been barely brushed. I wonder if it’s true about her getting it on with all her producers. I bet Jon will know. I’ll ask him later, once we get back to the hotel and I can actually open my mouth.

Then again, what if it’s me they’re talking about? But they said this person hooks up with her producers. I know Tilly has been with Dean and other guys, but no one has mentioned her with producers. I’m sure it’s not her. I mean, me. Me as her. Whatever.

“Not her normal self, maybe. Not that I’ve ever seen her in the flesh before tonight.”

“I met her once when I was filming in the L.A.”

Ooohhhhh, that’s interesting. Squeaky-voice girl must work in the movies. Though that’s hardly surprising if she’s at the party.

“Filming what? I didn’t know you’d done any work over there.”

“Well, I wasn’t filming exactly. I’d gone with a friend for an audition, and we were at the same studio as she was.”

“And you met her?”

“Kind of. Someone my friend knows was talking to her at a party, and we all stood together.”

I hold my hand over my mouth to stifle a giggle. The one thing I’ve learned about this business is people are full of their own self-importance and like to exaggerate big time. I guess this girl qualifies on both counts.

“Does she still look the same?”

“No, that’s what I was saying. There’s no star quality about her tonight. I’m telling you, she’s definitely on something, so I guess the rumors were right. Anyway, put your lipstick away and let’s go. I really want an invite to the producer’s party later.”

“Will she be there?”

“I guess so, unless she’s collapsed in a heap somewhere.” Her voice gets fainter and I hear the door open. “I can imagine the headlines in the morning. Tilly Watson wasted again…”

The door closes.

Oh. My. God. It was me they were talking about all the time. I’m the one who looks like she’s on drugs and out of it. This is so awful. What’s Tilly going to think if I let her down tonight? Thing is, everyone on set says I look like her, so what have I done wrong? What should I do now? I can’t go back inside, yet. I need to see Jon and tell him what happened so we can decide what to do together. He might want to go back to the hotel now, before I do any more damage. Hopefully he hasn’t gone back inside already.

I smooth down my dress and take a quick look in the mirror to make sure I haven’t smudged my makeup. I weigh the decision over whether to wear the sunglasses or not, and then I put them in my clutch. Tilly and I have similar round brown eyes, and maybe wearing the things indoors was part of what made me look like I’m high as a kite. I open the bathroom door and make my way to the rear entrance. Someone is looking out for me, because I don’t bump into anyone on my way. When I get to the outside door, I push it open and look left and right. I can’t see anyone, it’s too dark, but I can hear voices coming from down the stone steps and off toward the left. I hold onto an iron banister and walk down. When I reach the bottom, my nostrils are assaulted by the disgusting smell of smoke. I want to turn back except the voices are now much clearer so I stay and listen.