Derek and some of the extras chuckled. Jack rolled his eyes and walked to the dressing rooms. He returned without Courtney. “She won’t come out,” he whispered to Sofia.
Sofia stifled a grin. “Tell her she’s under contract. We can’t rehearse the scene without her.”
“She said she doesn’t care.”
“Use your charm, then.”
“We had a fight,” he blurted out.
Sofia bit her lip and grinned. “Forgive me if I do not shed a tear.”
“You have to go and talk to her,” Jack said.
“Me?” Sofia exclaimed. “She hates me more than carbohydrates. I won’t be any help.”
“Just go talk to her. Like a woman.”
“Are there any sharp objects in her trailer?”
“Please, Sofe.” Jack looked miserable.
Sofia sighed, handed her parasol to Derek, and lifted her skirts. “I will talk to her for the good of the production.” She trudged to Courtney’s trailer and knocked on the door. There was no reply. Sofia peered through the window. “Courtney?”
“Go away,” called Courtney from inside. Her voice sounded muffled and hoarse.
Sofia sighed. “Are you ill?” she shouted, trying to see inside. The curtains remained drawn.
Courtney spoke through the door. “I’m peachy, thank you. Please go away.”
“It’s time to start rehearsal. The extras are all in position,” Sofia replied.
“I’m not coming.”
“Fine. What excuse shall I give everyone? You’re practicing your baton twirling? You’re writing a speech for the United Nations?”
“You’d love that.”
“I’d prefer you come out and act.”
There was no reply, just sobbing. Sofia winced. “Is that you or is a cat being tortured?”
“Leave me alone!”
“I’d love to more than anything, dear. Unfortunately, I have been tasked with your retrieval. Either let me in and tell me what’s going on, or I shall continue to shout insults through the door. I have many of them, and I can talk for hours. The choice is yours.”
The door opened and Sofia fell inside. The trailer was decked in orange and red silks, gold statues, and candles. “It looks like Gandhi threw up in here,” she said. Courtney sat huddled in the corner, her eyes red.
“You know these are different religions? That’s Ganesh; that’s Buddha,” Sofia said, pointing to two gold statues. “I don’t think you should put them together. It might bring forth the apocalypse.”
“Shut up. Just because I didn’t go to Oxford, you don’t need to make fun of me.”
“I didn’t go to Oxford either, dear. I went to a reform school for the children of alcoholic dreamers. Still, I know the difference between Indian food and Chinese. I admire your pragmatic approach, though. Best place your bets on a few deities; you never know who might come through in the end.” Sofia picked up an incense stick. “I can see Jack all over this place. He was confused by religious idolatry, too.”
“Does he always do this?” The floor was strewn with tissues screwed up into little balls. Courtney picked one up and blew her nose into it.
“Does he always do what? I’m not sure that was clean,” Sofia added, pointing at the ball of sodden tissue pulp in Courtney’s hand.
“Last night, my agent sent me a rough cut of Bone Dry.”
Sofia shrugged. “Never heard of it.”
“It’s this new picture I’m in. It’s a biopic about a comedian who died of an eating disorder. Sounds stupid, I know.” She discarded the tissue, now used to the point that it disintegrated into fibers, and wiped her nose on her sleeve.
“As much as I want to agree with you, it sounds cool, actually,” Sofia said.
“I thought so. The script felt great. I enjoyed acting in it.”
“What’s the problem, then?”
“I showed the cut to Jack. He watched fifteen minutes. Afterward, he said nothing. I was so excited to show it to him! I’ve never done anything like this role. It was highbrow, you know? I had to remember a bunch of lines. The whole afternoon he was silent, just working at his computer. I thought he was looking for something for me, acting techniques or film references. But he was buying a Rolex on eBay, like Warren Beatty wore in the seventies. I demanded he tell me what he thought of the film. He said, ‘I think you should get a nose job.’”
Sofia snuck a glance at Courtney’s nose.
“You’re looking at my nose. Stop it!”
“I’ve never taken much notice of it before,” Sofia replied.
“You think he’s right.” Courtney sniffed.
“Truth be told, dear, it is quite large. There’s a bump at the top which I’d never observed. Fascinating.”
“You’re loving this.”
“Let me finish. Your nose is big and bumpy. It is also long and elegant. In the olden days, they called noses like yours ‘patrician.’ It frames your face well. It gives you personality and character. It’s quite beautiful. Careers snuff out after nose jobs.”
“You say that because you want me to fail.”
“I do want you to fail. But I am telling the truth about your nose. Change it and you’ll resemble every other starlet. You are no starlet, my dear. You are a star.”
“Why did he say it, then?”
Sofia sighed. “He’s a director. They’re visual people. It’s his job to point out physical flaws.”
Courtney nodded, still sobbing. “But he’s my boyfriend. It wasn’t a nice thing to say.”
“No. It wasn’t.” Sofia rose and headed for the door. She could not blame Courtney for wanting to protect the inch of leverage she had. Sofia had done the same once and would do so again if she still could. She reached the doorway and hesitated.
“What is it?” said Courtney.
“He said something similar to me once,” Sofia said.
“He did?”
Sofia nodded. “Before the first Batman was released. We went to a preview screening and he told me I could improve if I lost weight.”
“That was a great film,” said Courtney. “And you looked good in it. I feel terrible about
