Will the Real Abi Sanders Please Stand Up? (8 page)

The Fountain’s our second favorite place to go. It’s close, and they do the most amazing fruit smoothies.

“Sounds good to me,” Matt says. “I’m so hungry I could eat the entire menu.”

While we’re walking, he talks non-stop about the latest
Grand Theft Auto
. He’s a total gamer and is always trying to get me and Liv to play. It’s fun for half an hour, but after that I get bored. I really don’t get how people can pull gaming all-nighters.

When we get to the café, we sit down and wait for someone to take our order.

“Don’t you want to know how the movie is going?” I’m feeling a little miffed that he hasn’t even bothered to ask. Especially as I haven’t seen him for a while. You’d think he’d show some interest. It’s not like it’s something people do every day of their lives.

“I figured you’d tell me eventually. You usually do.” He shrugs.

What does he mean by that? It’s not like I go on and on about the movie set. At least I don’t think I do. Liv hasn’t mentioned it. She can’t get enough of it. She always wants to know everything that goes on. All we’ve ever known before is what we’ve read in the magazines or online. Now I’m getting everything firsthand. It’s a real eye-opener.

“Well, I won’t if you’re not interested.” I scowl at him.

“Now look who’s having a movie star tantrum,” he says arching a brow.

“I’m not.” I fold my arms tightly across my chest, but can’t stay mad for long. He’s right. I am acting no better than Tilly and her tantrums. “Okay, I’ll tell you, whether you want to hear or not.”

Chapter Eight

“Emotion, Tilly. Emotion.” The frustrated look on Zac’s face belies the tolerant tone in his voice.

He’s definitely losing it with her. Who can blame him? Judging by the state Tilly came in this morning, he’ll get more emotion from the tree she’s leaning against. This is take fifteen, and each one has been as bad as the next. It’s like she’s not trying. It’s written all over her face. Every time Zac calls action, she gives an extremely loud sigh and deliberately screws it up. Why? What the hell does she hope to gain by it?

I was in make-up when she arrived earlier, at about eight, and I didn’t recognize her right away because she looked so rough. Her hair was matted. She had black rings under her eyes, which were dull and lifeless. I don’t think she’d showered because there was a definite whiff of stale sweat in the air. It was disgusting. Lucky for the rest of us, Mel made her go and wash.

And
I overheard Mel say that she overheard Nathan say that the hotel’s night manager was moaning to the day manager about the noise coming from Tilly’s suite last night. I wonder who she was with and what they were doing? You’d think she’d try to be more discreet. Not that it’s any of my business, even if I can’t wait to tell Liv who, like me, will be dying to know everything that happened.

“You try being emotional with a script like this.” Tilly folds her arms and glares at Zac like a petulant child. She’s treading on dangerous ground if you ask me.

Zac strides toward her, visibly relaxing his facial muscles on his way. “You’re the best, Tilly. You can do it. Come on, do it for me. Let’s wrap this scene up,” he says when he’s standing in front of her. He turns away from Tilly, the expression on his face unreadable, and faces the crew. “Okay, guys. Close up on Tilly, show her emotion at seeing Hui alive, then camera left to shoot Abi from behind as she runs with Vince and jumps on the back of the motorcycle.”

What is it with this movie that I seem to spend so much time jumping onto the back of a motorcycle? I don’t see why they can’t keep using the same shot each time. Who’s going to know? Okay, I guess that’s not the attitude, and without all these shots I’d be hanging around doing not a lot, but even so.

“Make sure you shoot from the waist up. I don’t want my fans thinking I have a b-b-b-butt the size of an elephant,” Tilly growls.

Suddenly, all eyes are on me, and I just know my face is crimson. When will she stop with the mockery? I won’t let her see I’m upset, though, because she’ll only be worse. Not that anyone is going to say anything to her about it.

She’s the star.

What’s wrong with my butt, anyway? It’s not that big, and everyone says Tilly and I are the same size. Plus now I have my fake boobs, which makes me a lot more curvy and in proportion than before.

“Ignore her,” says Vince cutting into my thoughts. “She’s not having a good day. And by the way, your butt is fine.” He casts a glance at my ass and nods.

You know, when Vince is made up to look like Nathan, he’s quite cute, with his dark, close-cropped curls and big brown eyes. Not that I have the hots for him in that way. He’s just a great guy to hang out with. I prefer the less chiseled and more ruffled look, like…like… No, I’m not going down that path. Matt’s just a friend.

“Thanks. I just don’t get why she has to be like this when she has such an amazing life.”

Even if what Vince says about being a star—about how it’s not all it’s hyped up to be—is true, there are still millions of girls in this world who would give everything to have what Tilly has, and she should stop for a moment and think about that. I know that if the positions were reversed and I was the movie star, then I’d be nice to everyone and I’d be grateful for everything I had.

Even just doing this gig I’m pretty grateful, because it’s more than most girls my age would ever get to do.

“It might seem amazing to you, but her career is close to the edge. No one will employ her. This low-budget movie is her last chance,” Vince says, folding his arms across his chest and leaning against the tree.

“You’re kidding. Why, when her movies are so successful? I don’t get it.”

“Because she’s so hard to manage, and directors are getting sick of having to deal with it. Every time she pulls a diva routine, it costs the studio money. The producers get pissed since they have to pay all of the crew overtime because movies are behind schedule. She’s not as bankable as she used to be, and if she’s not bringing in the money she’s costing the studio…”

“I had no idea.” I shake my head.

So the investors really are taking a huge risk. Scary for them if everything depends on Tilly pulling it off. Maybe that’s why they had to hire a total unknown like me. If Tilly screws up, they stand to lose a lot of money, so they have to keep costs down in other areas where they can. I sort of feel sorry for her.

“No, they—”

“Action,” says Zac, cutting dead my conversation with Vince.

We both turn and look at Tilly.

“Hui. You’re here. They told me you were dead.” As Tilly clings to Nathan, tears stream down her face. Finally, we get to see the Tilly magic. It’s incredible that with so few words she can give the most spell-binding, heart-wrenching performance. It even brings tears to my eyes. It’s so amazing how she can turn it on for the camera, when she wants to. Yet for me, every time I speak it’s a monumental effort, requiring absolute concentration.

Her attitude aside, I could learn a lot from Tilly.

…

“Cut and hold,” yells Zac. “Good work everyone. Abi, you were spot on. And Tilly, you should be more like Abi. Have an early night, get plenty of rest, and leave the liquor alone.”

Whoa! I can’t believe he just said that. I’m desperate to take a look at Tilly’s face to see how she’s taking it, except I can’t since when Zac says hold, it means we’re not allowed to move until the cameraman says so. He has to check that everything’s okay and that the scene’s in the can and, if it isn’t, we have to go over it again. So it’s important for continuity we stay where we are. Which, for me, is sitting behind Vince on the motorcycle, looking behind as we’ve managed to escape from our pursuers. A few minutes later, we get the all clear, and I swing my leg around, get off, and head toward the resting tent. My work for the morning is done.

“Hey, you. Abi.” I glance up and see Tilly heading in my direction. And she doesn’t look like she’s in a good mood.

“Yes?”

“I know what you’re doing; don’t think I don’t,” she says in a harsh voice that’s barely above a whisper but still sends a shiver down my spine.

Not that I have a clue what’s she’s talking about.

“Sorry?”

“Trying to make me look bad in front of Zac.”

This has got to be a bad dream. Since when have I ever done anything to make Tilly look bad? I know Zac said she should be more like me, but he didn’t mean it. Not really.

“I’m n-not doing anything. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“I’m n-n-n-not doing anything
,” Tilly says, imitating me so well it’s like talking to myself. “Don’t give me that crap.” She narrows her eyes. “
Yes, Zac. No Zac. How do you want me to do this, Zac? Is that all right, Zac. Let me kiss your butt, Zac.
”

Why doesn’t she just shut the hell up and leave me alone? So what if I’m doing as I’m told? I don’t know how much more I can take of her going off on me like this. At least, not without landing a kick right where it hurts. Well, in my dreams that’s what I’d do.

“I just wanted to get it right. For the movie. I wasn’t trying to get you in trouble.” My voice starts to quiver, and it takes all my resolve to pull it back in. There’s no way I’m going to lose it in front of her, because she’ll just love that.

“Tilly.” Fraser’s call distracts her, and she turns from me.

“What?”

“Zac wants to speak to you about the next scene.”

“Now what does he want? We went over all this yesterday.” She looks back at me and rolls her eyes to the sky. “That man. I’ll tell you, he must be the worst director I’ve worked with.”

She lets out a long groan then slowly walks back towards the main set area, slouching and dragging her feet all the way.

I watch until she’s out of sight, conscious only of my heart pounding mercilessly against my ribcage. I just don’t get it. I’m trying to do a good job for
her
movie. I’d be happy if she’d just treat me consistently, instead of one day being okay and the next being awful.

I can’t go wait in the resting tent. Not when everyone else is there, because they’ll want to talk, and now I’m not up to that. I just need to be by myself, to think. I’ll go sit by the river. There’s no filming there today, so I should be undisturbed.

The river is a few minutes’ walk away, and on the way I can’t help but notice the peace and quiet. Well, not peace and quiet as in total silence, but no voices or motorcycles— just the sound of the birds.

When I get there, I’m just about to sit on the ground at the water’s edge when, luckily, I remember my dress. If I get it dirty, Fran will go mad because I ripped the other one on Wednesday, all down the back, and it might not have been repaired yet.

Instead, I sit on a large rock and wrap my arms around my knees. I rest my chin on them and draw in a lungful of fresh air.

I’m so sick of Tilly treating me like her whipping girl, I could scream. I know when Danny offered me the role I was unsure, but I hoped, deep down, that it would be a great experience. I mean, look how well kickboxing worked out. I didn’t want to do that either, but ended up discovering something I was completely passionate about.

Since I got this role because of kickboxing, it should work out, right?

Wrong.

How much of a loser would they think I am if I say I don’t want to do the job anymore? The way I’m feeling today, I’d really like to. But would I dare? Would I be allowed to, seeing as I signed a contract? I wonder if it says anything about leaving. What if I had to give back all the money I’ve earned so far? I’ve already spent some on Christmas presents and on an adorable pair of jeans.

I strum my fingers on my leg and mentally give myself a shake. I’m being so pathetic, thinking of giving up at the first hurdle. Working on a movie set is just like being at the dojo. We’re a team. We look out for each other; well, some more than others. Even so, I’ve got to stick at it. I actually need to be more like Tilly and grow a backbone. She doesn’t let anyone push her around. I’m not saying I want to be exactly like her, just that there are some things I could take from her.

A rustling noise from behind brings me back to the present. I jerk my head around and quickly scan my surroundings, but there’s nothing there.

I hear the noise again, only this time it’s coming from my left. Yikes. The hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention, and my arms have goose bumps running down them. I jump up from the rock and quickly look from side to side but see nothing. Is it an animal? Or a person? Whatever, something’s not right. Crap. What should I do? It might be a stalker. You read all sorts of things about stalkers and their obsession with movie stars and how they find their way into the star’s bedroom and…

“Gotcha,” a male voice whispers in my ear at the same time covering my eyes with his hand.

I open my mouth, but before any sound comes out, he spins my body around and my jaw drops as I glimpse a guy so cute he should be illegal. He kisses me firmly on the lips.

A butterfly sensation shoots through my stomach in the split second between wanting to lose myself in his kiss, which is totally crazy, and panic.

Luckily, reality takes hold, and I know I need to think of something quick, before he does something horrific to me. No one just kisses a stranger like this without having creepy motives. So, using as much force as I can muster, I put my hands on his shoulders and push him away, while at the same time lifting my leg and aiming a front kick at his groin, which doesn’t quite connect because of the uneven surface. I lose my balance and fall over backward, landing on my butt.

Pain shoots through my tailbone, but there’s no time to nurse my wounds. I scramble to my feet and race towards the trees.

“Tilly,” he calls. “What are you doing? It’s me. Stop.”

Chapter Nine

Me? What does he mean me? Who’s me?

I slow down to practically walking pace and glance over my shoulder. He’s standing there, hands on hips, staring in my direction. There’s something really familiar about him, but I can’t think what. Come to think of it, he did call me Tilly. He thinks I’m Tilly. He kissed me thinking I was Tilly.