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“Charles Bradley!” The booming voice interrupts us and even causes a few heads to turn. When we turn, we see Richard March, studio head at Paramount Studios, stalking towards us. His heavy steps vibrate at our feet as they come to a stop, and his hand stoutly outreaches towards us. He smiles wide, a sliver of his gold crown peeking from the curved corner of his smile.
“My congratulations on the movie’s success!” He aggressively shakes both of our hands, his enthusiasm unwillingly transferring onto us. His suit, looking just as heavy as his steps, envelops his awkward shape while his slicked-back hair hides just enough of his baldness to still leave a gleam of sweat to show through on his shiny scalp. We both smile politely, nodding our appreciation.
“I’m glad I ran into you,” he practically bellows, his deep voice ringing loudly in the packed ballroom. “I have some ideas that I want to bounce off of you. The both of you, actually.” He turns to look at me, his smile eager and optimistic.
“The both of us?” I ask.
“We’re greenlit for a movie that I think you two would be perfect for,” he explains, his voice in a lower tone in an attempt to maintain the confidentiality of our conversation. “It’s going to be an all-star cast. I want to set up a meeting, maybe some time next week, to go over the script. What do you guys think?”
“If you want to send the script through to Levi, I can take a look at it,” I answer. That’s usually how we do things. Levi does his research, and I give my two cents before accepting or declining. I don’t do much without Levi. Many of my decisions are based on his approval.
Richard huffs. “I was hoping we could be a little discreet about this. Maybe just involve the necessary parties.”
“You know how we do it. The agency usually gives us a go for any movie we sign on for,” Charles explains. He works the same way as I do with his own agent. We’ve both gotten comfortable allowing our agents to do a lot of the leg work when it comes to seeking out movie roles, and, honestly, it’s the least messy way to go about it.
“If that’s how you gentlemen want to handle it, I’ll talk to the producers. But—”
“Dick!” The cheerfully taunting voice comes from Michael Perry, who appears to be even more relaxed and inebriated since leaving the theater. It’s obvious that he’s basking in the movie’s success. His partner, Hugo, whom I’ve had the pleasure of meeting a number of times while on set, follows close by his side.
Richard’s boisterous laugh echoes across the ballroom as he embraces Michael and heavily pats his back. “I hope the box office numbers don’t go to your head when they start trickling in.”
“Too late,” Hugo interjects. “I have to keep reminding him tonight’s just the premiere and we still have the box office release before getting shit-faced.” He turns towards Charles and me to shake our hands, and he greets us warmly. “It’s good to see you guys again.”
The four of us stand close to the bar, taking up enough room for people to discreetly surround us, hoping to catch glimpses of our conversation or blatantly stare.
I’m staying relatively quiet, listening to the conversation and sipping my scotch, when I see Hugo wave someone towards him. When I curiously peek in the same direction, I see a young woman excitedly walk towards him smiling bright and eager. Normal activity at a premiere, networking and making informal introductions in the hope of meeting the right people. It’s the typical cog of the industry, everything moving a mile a minute and never taking a break, not even to celebrate at a premiere.
This woman approaching Hugo isn’t who catches me off guard. It’s the woman who’s following close behind. The same one in red that I’ve been looking for all night. The two walk close to each other and come to a stop right in front of me. As if brought to me by the universe, urging me to introduce myself, to awkwardly extend a greeting, totalkto her.
“Richard, I’d like you to meet Claire. She’s one of our interns out of UCLA.”
The woman that Hugo had flagged down extends her hand, assertive and professional. “Mr. March, it’s such an honor to meet you.” Her nerves give her away with her shaky voice, though Richard doesn’t seem to notice as he’s focused on her smile that never falters.
“And this is Charles Bradley and Rhylan Matthews,” Hugo adds, gesturing towards myself and Charles. Both women glance at us as Charles nods a greeting to both. Me, on the other hand, I can’t even attempt to tear my attention away from the woman standing behind Claire almost hiding in the shadows as if wanting to blend in.
“UCLA, that’s my alma mater,” Richard says proudly, interrupting our introductions.
“Yes, I know. I’ve followed your career closely, Mr. March. My peers and I very much look up to you.”
Richard laughs deeply and proudly, basking in the recognition he’s getting for his success. “That’s quite a compliment, young lady.” His eyes then wander to the woman standing behind Claire, his hand gesturing towards her. “Is she also an intern like you?”
“This is my friend, Ellie,” Claire says, her hand gently landing on her friend’s arm. “We both attend UCLA, but she’s not an intern, no.”
Hugo dives deep into how much work Claire has done for Paramount, expressing how her efforts as a fresh face in the office have been noticeable and that he has hopes to hire her full-time once she graduates.
Ellie.
I repeat her name in my head as I watch her face. I study it, noticing the way her eyes nervously shift side to side or how her smile only curves up in small fragments. Her face is full of shyness and reserve.
I only hear snippets of the conversations around me because I’m too busy watching Ellie. I know I’m staring, practically glaring at her, but I can’t seem to look away.
She’s standing there, looking completely out of place but belonging at the same time. Her subtle charcoal makeup makes her deep honey-colored eyes stand out even more while her dark hair is piled on her head into an organized mess. My eyes linger on her shoulders, the thin straps of her cherry-colored dress digging into the plush skin, right where a thick strand of hair has managed to come loose. Her arms cross her chest as her hands reach to squeeze her elbows, her fingers nervously tracing her own skin. On the outside, she looks like she’s part of this absurd Hollywood crowd. But beyond that, she looks hesitant. Almost apologetic that she’s taking up space when she’s the one that stands out the most.
Ellie finally looks at me quickly enough for our eyes to meet for a second before her eyes fall back on her friend. Her eyes are cautious but curious. Our eyes meet again, not in passing this time but held in what feels like a trance. I can see the moment she realizes that I look familiar, beyond the expected recognition as Rhylan Matthews. As someone that saw a fraction of her exposed soul when she wasn’t guarding it as tightly as she normally did. I see it when her eyes widen and her lips part. When her chest heaves as she inhales a sharp intake of breath.
She looks away, her eyes absentmindedly searching for answers, before she reaches for her friend’s hand, squeezing it lightly to get her attention. Claire turns to watch her walk away before continuing her conversation with Richard and Hugo.
I, too, watch her walk away, her steps quick and hurried as the heels of her stilettos click against the hard floor. My eyes narrow, following her path. Her steps lead her away from the crowd—somewhere quiet and secluded—as I push past Charles to go after her. I don’t know what I’m going to say or why I’m even trying to catch up to her, but I do it for no other reason than my own nagging curiosity.
