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Suzanne, of course, played up her most fortunate position. She was relishing in the fact that it was she in these photos with Ryan and not me. In between shots, a team of makeup artists tended to her and made her smoky eyes even more alluring.
I was able to take a few relaxing breaths when Ryan posed alone. He looked uncomfortable from time to time, cracking jokes and occasionally making funny faces to help pass the time.
I remembered the last time I had my picture taken professionally; it was when I graduated from Brown. It was one of my memories that I tried to suppress in the darkest corners of my brain.
I winced, recalling that fateful day when I was waiting for my mother to come home from grocery shopping so we could go pick up my photos from the photographer. That was the day she died. If only I had gone shopping with her instead of giving her a hard time, I could have prevented it.
“Are you okay?” Ryan asked during a break.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Just deep in thought.”
“David wants an answer.” He looked unsure.
“What are you going to tell him?”
“What should I tell him?” he countered.
“It’s your decision, Honey. I’ll support any choice you make.”
He gave me a disgusted look. “I want your opinion!”
I took a deep breath. “Ryan, all of your idols have done a wide variety of films. Some were memorable, some were a paycheck, and some were a disaster. But you said it yourself… it’s those decisions that could make or break a career.
“You have three projects coming up, all films destined to be box office hits, but they could be your stepping stones to even greater things. You know as well as I do that you are in a unique position to really direct your career. But you choose! Don’t let them choose it for you.
“You’re signed on for Thousand Miles with Slipknot scheduled right after that. Then you have the press tour, junkets, and premiers for Reparation in the beginning of April and Seaside Two in July. Rehearsals for the third Seaside start in September. You have nothing on the docket after that, and if Universal is willing to wait…”
Ryan nodded.
“But Honey, it’s not a matter of schedule and whether you’re available or not. Is Sacred Mountain the type of film you want to be associated to?
My opinion is that it’s not a story line that will make you shine and stand out as a powerful leading man. I mean, would Leonardo DeCaprio do it?”
Ryan shook his head quickly. “I don’t think so.”
“Well then? You and UFOs will make money. You and UFOs will not garner awards or make you a well-respected, well-rounded actor. Dreams only come true if you point yourself in their direction.”
I watched his expression change when he comprehended.
I was surprised that his manager and his agent were pushing the sci-fi movie on him. Ryan had never taken a role like that before, and although I could see the importance of showing his acting range by portraying different characters, the lead in Sacred Mountain seemed to be a huge deviation from what he had been doing.
While we dressed in our evening wear for the wrap party, I couldn’t help but bring the subject up again. Ryan was very open to discussing the pros and cons of the role. I wanted to make sure that the decision he made was well thought out and that my influence didn’t hinder him from accepting a worthwhile role.
“Wait to be escorted,” Marla informed Ryan when we pulled up to the grand hotel where the Seaside wrap party would be taking place. Her authoritative tone snapped me out of my private thoughts.
“I know,” Ryan mumbled, clearly knowing what was expected of him.
Marla edged her body closer to Ryan so she would be able to exit the car right behind him. Ryan’s door opened and several formidable security men surrounded him immediately. Four men quickly escorted him across the street where the paparazzi and hundreds of fans were waiting.
The camera lights and photoflashes lit up the nighttime sky. I sat there completely helpless, watching Ryan become blinded as the volume of excited screams became deafening.
I slid across the leather seat to exit the car at the curb but Marla was blocking my way. Once Ryan was safely across the street I was allowed to get out of the car. “This way Miss,” some man in a suit ordered.
I was removed from the car and was allowed to watch the mayhem unfold across the street from a discrete spot near the hotel entrance. People were screaming and shouting at Ryan for his autograph and for pictures. “Ryan, Ryan, over here, Ryan,” the crowd screamed for him over and over again. Hundreds of cameras flashed like strobe lights in his eyes while he willingly subjected himself to the call of fame. He signed autograph after autograph and posed with every person who had a camera.
