Smiling, I quickly checked my schedule, noticing an on-set interview happening this afternoon. I sighed, refusing to let the intrusion ruin my good mood. My manager, Gloria, had arranged the interview despite my objections. The host wanted to tour my trailer on set, and that just felt like a step too far. But, at least, it wouldn’t take long, and it had already been cleared with the shooting schedule.
Finally, I navigated over to an unread text from Candace. Good thing Imogen wasn’t touching up the fake cut and trauma makeup along my cheekbone because I was definitely smiling now.
Switching over to my thread with Joan, I typed:Do you have plans tonight?
Joan: I was thinking about staying in and watching a movie, actually.
A pause.
Joan: You could come over.
Joan: If you wanted.
I took a slow breath in through my nose and thumbed at the elastic band around my wrist.
Me: Really?
Joan: Sure.
Me: That’s great because your sister texted me earlier and offered to watch Georgie tonight, completely unprompted.
Joan: Sigh.
Alone, in my trailer on set, I cracked up.
Joan: Actually, what is the cast up to tonight? I could watch George if you wanted to hang out with them.
Frowning, I stared at my screen and tried to make sense of the message. Joan had never once asked about my co-stars. Hell, I didn’t even think she knew who played opposite me in the film.
I hit a button on my phone, and a moment later Joan’s confused voice came through. “Hello?”
“Why would you ask that? About me hanging out with the cast?”
“Just a thought,” she said, sounding a littletoononchalant. “You just never mention them. You tell me about the script and filming and wide-angle lens and special effects, but you never mention your co-stars.”
Suspicion had me replying tightly, “I didn’t think you cared about celebrities.”
“I don’t. I just figured they were your friends. I feel like I’m monopolizing all your free time. You run with me. You eat lunch with me. You see me at work. You come to my house for dinner. I thought actors hung out together. Bonded over filming and shit. Like summer camp.”
She was right. That was typically how it went on a set. An intense schedule and working conditions usually bonded actors on a film.
Unless someone was an asshole and kept to themselves.
Apparently,Iwas the asshole on this film.
I didn’t know how to admit to Joan that those people—the cast and crew—were all fine. But being with them seemed hollow and insignificant. I knew where I wanted to be.
With her. For as long as I could manage it.
Anything else—anyone else—seemed like a waste of what little time I had here in Kirby Falls.
Finding stolen moments with Joan and Georgie felt like what it might be like to have a real life—a normal life. Family dinner on Sunday. Chores and a pet goat to take care of. Someone to make coffee for every day. A little boy to tuck in every night.
But I couldn’t say any of that. She was confused about kissing me. Telling her about these weird domestic fantasies would be admitting too much—enough to make her regret letting me into her life at all.
So instead of a vulnerable confession, I gave her something else true. “My co-stars are fine. We all get along, but they don’t know about Georgie. Only Della does. He’s my priority whether I’m on location or not. I don’t want to lie to them or pretend like I’m available when I’m not.”
Joan remained quiet on the line. Then, finally, she murmured, “Right. That makes sense.”
