Double translation: me.
“Do you think I saidcreamiestweird? You know when you say a word too many times it starts sounding made-up?” I ask, catching Heather’s dismissive look but continuing. “CREAM-ee-est. Cream-EE-est,” I mutter under my breath, stepping over the taped-down cables running through the set.
“Reese, it was flawless.You’reflawless. But if you’d like to take fewer yogurt baths, we need to stop being so selective with the scripts.”
She’s not happy with me. I have a three-month pile of rejected projects that probably weighs as much as a sculpture from City Park back home in New Orleans.
“The roles aren’t challenging enough,” I remind her, kicking off my heels and ascending the stairs to my makeup trailer. From my stainless-steel mini-fridge, I grab an iced tea for me and a Diet Coke for Heather. “They’re…”
The words hang in the air. In the world of carefully scripted kisses and airbrushed love, I’m as successful as they come. But with just one more year until the big 3-0, I worry my days of starring in romantic comedies are numbered.
Aniston fought the same battle, trapped in the rom-com box because heaven forbid we allow pretty women to be complicated. At least she broke free in her thirties, proving she could do more than merely make audiences comfortable.
For a woman in Hollywood, getting older is practically a death sentence. If I can’t demonstrate that I’m an actress with range, I might as well sign up for water aerobics and 4:00 p.m. dinners now. I refuse to fade into the background playing mothers and quirky sidekicks to some twenty-year-old’s great romance.
The next movie I choose is my chance to land a messy, complex role. I need a character who has more on her mind than finding Mr. Right—a film where I get to feel in control, come into my power, and be fearless.
I want more.
Ineedmore.
“They’re your bread and butter, Reese,” Heather states, settling in at the tiny table in the middle of the trailer and popping open the tab on her Diet Coke. “Those scripts are whatyou excel at. Quantum Media Group is begging for you to sign on to a new film. The signing fee alone could pay for a new summer home for us both.”
“Heather,” I plead, fidgeting with the label on my bottle of tea. “One summer home is plenty!”
“Maybe for you, darling.” Her expression remains granite-solid. “Besides, we should focus on your secondVoguecover this weekend. Have you prepared for your interview?”
The vapid interview questions already echo in my mind:
Who was a better kisser, Chalamet or Powell? Be honest!Chalamet, though a lady would never admit that.
What’s your secret to staying so thin?Forcing myself to resist my favorite carbs.
Is Reese Sinclair dating anyone new?Sorry, I only fake-date my costars.
“My plan was to sellLove and Loathing.” My newest film is about a clumsy but gorgeous real estate agent who keeps getting flustered around her client, whose steely gaze and perfectly tailored suits make her forget how to operate basic elevator buttons. “And Geraldine can prep me with some other good gems that will keep people entertained.” My publicist is a genius when it comes to question-dodging.
“Ger can’t help you lie through theWhat’s next for you?question, sweetheart. But maybe you can keep the conversation bubbling about your relationship with Jaxon.”
“Fakerelationship,” I remind her. Selling my kind of movies usually means selling a lie that I’m dating my latest costar. As if standing on my own is too much for the public to bear.
“The fans don’t need to know that.”
“Are you sure no other scripts have come your way? An indie film? A wayward drama? I’d work for free for the right project!” I slide across from her, slumping forward on the table.
Heather studies me, pursing her lips as if reluctant to share something. “Lawrence just dropped out ofRobyn Hood.But, Reese—”
My spine straightens. “Status?”
“Still happening,” she says, arching her perfectly manicured eyebrow at me. “Their casting agent inquired about your previous audition, but—”
“Book it.”
Earlier this spring, I auditioned for a gender-bent Robin Hood role in which Robyn transforms from a cunning thief into a fierce warrior determined to save her town from a greedy king. An R-rated film with violence and cursing. No romance. No manufactured chemistry with the latest heartthrob—just raw storytelling about lawlessness and corruption.
I’d never felt more alive during an audition. Yet they initially chose an actress with prior action-movie experience. Someone who hadn’t spent years trapped in the sugar-plum prison I’d meticulously built for myself.
This is my chance to gain control over my image.
