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Chapter Fourteen
Lexi
The dialogue in this scene is dumber than a bag of rocks and it makes me sound like that, too.
“We’ve got company!” I’ve heard this one in several movies, so unoriginal.
“Run! He has a gun.” Could the script writer not think of anything better than this?
“Danger is my middle name.” Really? I have to say that tired line?
Hiding out in my trailer, I prepare for today’s action scene. If I can run in these eight-inch heels and not flash my underwear in this skin-tight, skimpy dress, then I’m going to consider it a win. Remembering the cheesy lines will just be the cherry on top.
The only thing that’s kept me going these past several weeks are my nightly talks with Brady. He keeps me grounded and laughs with me when I tell him about the silly scenes, outrageous outfits, and corny dialogue in this movie. It’s no wonder that the actress who was originally cast for this part quit. She must have read the script and concluded that this film is a prime contender for a Razzie award.
Knock! Knock!
“Come in,” I say, dreading whoever has found me in my hiding place.
My co-star, Lauren McAdams, walks in and flops on the nearest soft surface. She sighs loudly. “Girlfriend, we seriously need to rewrite this script. It’s pure cow poop.” She holds her nose with one hand while waving her other hand back and forth. I get the point. Or maybe I should say, I get the drift.
I burst out laughing as she puts into words exactly what I was just thinking—leave it to a farmgirl from Nebraska to express her opinion so bluntly. Lauren and I bonded the first day when we both had to wear bikinis and run after some bad guys on the beach. Let me tell you those scanty bikini tops don’t provide any support for running. We laughed about it afterwards and our friendship was formed.
“Agree! But the director will just say we’re high maintenance if we demand a rewrite.”
“True.” She nods her head, a thoughtful expression on her pretty face as she picks up a bunch of grapes from the bowl on the table. Absently nibbling on a grape, she says, “Are you dreading starring with you-know-who as much as I am?”
My mouth falls open at her honest admission. “Yes! He’s arrogant and makes me feel inferior all the time.”
Lauren nods. “If he approached the director for a rewrite, everyone would lie down and roll over to his request, but if we do so, we’ll look like whiners.”
The double standard irks me, but I can’t do anything about it. Feeling helpless that neither me nor my female co-stars can influence the project, I say, “Guess we make the best of it.”
Wrinkling her nose, Lauren says, “We need to try to save this film. It has flop written all over it. We’ll be the laughingstock of Hollywood.”
My mind spins on how to solve this. Wish I could call Brady right now and discuss it with him. He’ll have good insight and suggestions. “How does Zoe feel? If the three of us approached the director with our concerns, do you think he’ll listen?”
She snorts. “Zoe feels the same way, but do you see our twenty-something director wanting to make any changes to the script? All he cares about is that we look sexy and don’t forget our lines.”
I giggle. “Yes, the plot is a little thin, isn’t it?”
A giggle bubbles out of Lauren’s throat and we share a good laugh over this ridiculous situation.
“How about Charlene, the assistant director? Would she listen?” I say several beats later.
“Um, that’s a good idea. Let’s run through these lines with her and see if she has any suggestions,” Lauren says with excitement in her voice.
I nod. “Okay, let’s do it!”
Certainly, a woman can relate to not wanting to make other women look stupid on film. Right?
~*~
Brady’s face pops onto the screen for our nightly chat. Just seeing his face makes me feel better. Well, a little.
“Hey, why the glum look?” he asks, obviously I’m not hiding my emotions very well.
“Remember me telling you about the cheesy dialogue in this movie?” He nods. “Well, Lauren, Zoe, and I approached the assistant director and then the director about a rewrite. . .” My frown should tell him everything.
“You didn’t get any changes?”
“A few, but the director is friends with the script writer, so he’s not willing to do much. He said, and I quote, ‘this movie is a parody, so why fight it?’”
“Ouch. I’m sorry Lexi, I know how much you wanted this film to be a hit.”
“It still might be a hit. The sexy outfits and exhilarating plot might offset the atrocious dialogue.” I roll my eyes knowing that the plot is thin and a retread from an 80’s movie.
Brady chuckles. “Okay, what else is putting that frown on your face?”
A huff of air blows out my nose, as a long-suffering sigh escapes. “Why am I doing this? I feel like I’ve played this same role multiple times, just with different hair colors and different fake accents.” The part I’m currently playing requires me to be a strawberry blonde, with red highlights in my hair and a southern accent.
“Lexi, after you finish this movie, what’s holding you back from trying something new?”
Brady and I have had this conversation multiple times over the last few months. We both feel a little stuck in our current jobs.
“Fear, doubt, and chicken heartedness.” I snort because the last one makes me sound like country girl, Lauren.
“Chicken. . . hearted. . . ness?” Brady says between laughs. “Is that a line from the movie?” he adds with a smirk.
“It could be,” I mutter. “Enough about me and the movie, what about you?” My voice raises with interest because Brady’s been doing something about taking a new career path and I may as well live vicariously through him.
“Actually, I have some good news.”
Rubbing my hands together in anticipation, I say, “Ooh, what is it?”
