Some things were brewing under the surface, and I had to fight the instinct to get out of it now; quit this entire thing. I wanted nothing more than to run away.
This was too much drama to handle; it was only day two of me being on the set. And I’d already ruined everything by hooking up with Mason and getting Oliver to hate me, and having this weird vibe with Leo.
The only true ally I had was Alina, and even she was about to go through her own drama when Rachel got here.
If she was paying all of her attention and support to Rachel, what did that leave me?
It left me alone.
The only way out of all of this was to quit.
“And you’re done!” the makeup artist chimed, as if everything was right in the world.
I looked at my face in the mirror, as if seeing myself for the first time. He’d made my face dirty like a medieval villager’s but in an artful way. The makeup blended in, bringing out my sharp features while still giving me a natural look.
Even with all of my inner turmoil, I had to admit that I looked good— better than my best day.
The makeup was like armor. I could do anything.
“Knock ‘em dead,” the makeup artist said.
And just like that, Reese appeared in the doorway.
“We’re ready for you, Charlie,” he said, somehow looking even more disheveled than earlier.
I stilled my shaking hands and stood up.
“Remember, you aren’t Charlie anymore,” Reese said. “You’re a villager. What do you want, Village Boy?” Reese asked, cutting me with his sharp gaze.
The way he was bossing me around like this, taking command of the room, caused some stirring in my pants. Automatically, I tried to make myself think of something else to make the boner go away, but then I remembered that this scene we were about to shoot was going to give me a boner anyway.
Hell, it would probably even make the scene more real.
“You read the script, right?” Reese asked impatiently.
“Yeah, I’m up to date on the changes,” I said, joining him in the doorway.
“Then what do you want, village boy?” he asked again, leading me down a long hallway lined with burning torches.
What did I want? I wanted fame. I wanted people to respect me. I wanted validation; I wanted to be admired and loved.
But what did the village boy want?
“I want Chronis,” I said.
“Why’s that?” Reese tested, his steps getting faster and faster.
“Because I suspect he’s a bastard of the king, and I want to use that to my advantage,” I said, sliding deeper and deeper into character.
“Right. And what’s your line?” Reese said.
“You look just like him,” I said, reciting the line from the Google Doc that had burned its way into my eyelids.
“Perfect. Say it just like that when the time comes,” Reese said.
Then he opened a curved wooden castle door in front of us and we stepped into an extravagant bedroom.
Mason was already there in costume, looking like a god as he stared out the window. We hadn’t even started yet and he already had command of the scene; it was impossible not to look at him.
Reese gave another speech, talking about the circumstances in the book that would lead up to this scene. But something was missing from it; that creative spark that captivated an audience was gone. Something was on his mind.
Regardless, whatever Reese lacked at that moment, Mason made up for. He was already on.
He avoided my eye until the cameras started rolling. I didn’t know what he was playing at; all I knew was that it was getting to me.
“Action!” Reese cried, and it felt like all of the air went out of my lungs.
I had practiced this over and over when I had a few hours alone yesterday, but it didn’t prepare me for the unique thrill that came from being in front of the camera. There was something ethereal in the room that shifted, and suddenly I wasn’t Charlie anymore. I was a random villager, suddenly alone in a room with Chronis.
Chronis, the guy I’d coveted and been watching for weeks.
Chronis, my ticket out of poverty.
He didn’t know he was the king’s bastard yet, but I did.
Chronis turned from the window, and rushed at me, sweeping me into an embrace.
I forgot the cameras were there, forgot who I was pretending to be. I even forgot I was acting. The chemistry between me and Mason was so powerful that I could let that carry the scene.
I thought I was overacting at times, but the camera kept rolling. The crew watching us fell away into the ether, and it was just me and Mason again.
He looked at me in that same vulnerable way that he had the night before. His blue eyes were on mine.
I forgot about everything and the world fell away. We kissed again, and it was every bit as real as it had been the night before.
Even though part of me despised Mason and thought he was a complete scumbag for how he’d treated me the night before, I couldn’t help but cling onto the small shred of a belief that this was real. That the intimacy, the chemistry we shared was enough to carry us.
The scene progressed, and I kept waiting for Reese to yell “cut,” halting this magic and making us try again. But nothing happened; the crew was enraptured.
As Mason kissed down my neck again, I wondered how far Reese was going to let this go. It was getting borderline pornographic.
I just let Mason carry on, and my body kept moving naturally against his.
I couldn't’ deny that I was hungry; hungry for that genuine connection I felt with him last night.
