Jesus Christ this background-work is about to pop a vessel in my brain! I can’t stand this shit any longer and it’s only been a little over two weeks.
At first glance it’s a perfect gig for the aspiring actor. The bulk of our work-day (if you can call it that) is spent idle in some dark corner of the studio while a series of meatheads prep a shot for six hours. While waiting, we’re paid to eat the cast and crew’s leftovers (which is still top-shit food), and socialize amongst ourselves until called upon to perform simple tasks any kid with down-syndrome and half-decent motor-skills could pull-off without dropping a single bead of sweat.
My first day on set I was there sixteen hours. I was wide-eyed and full of optimism from being on my first studio lot. On top of my boyish glee, my first scene gave me what the regular extras call “face-time”. Basically I’m the guy acting as if I’m an everyday consumer waiting for a latte’ while Hugh Jackman orders coffee in a fifteen-second scene that takes fifty-minutes and twenty-one takes to shoot.
That first day on set I was wet with the cliché, dime-a-dozen pipe-dream of some director hitting the ceiling full of praise upon noticing the choices I made while playing my Guy at Coffee Shop role… A delusion that quickly passed after my second day on the job.
I soon realized extra-work is maybe half a peg up on the totem-pole from asking “would you like fries with that” through a drive-through window at McDonald’s… and we’re reminded of this by the cast, crew, and interns at every possible moment. The whole process has Big Brother written all over it. Each night before work we’re given our “instructions” (where to go, how to dress, what to do, what not to do, etc) from a degrading automated message left by some former hall monitor with the need to milk the small sense of authority he/she is mental enough to believe they have. Even still, being treated like a resident of Camp Auschwitz by the higher ups is something I can handle -- It’s the other extras working beside me that really push me over the edge…
It’s High School all over again. Everywhere you turn there’s a clique packed with phony-apathetic vultures exuding a deluded sense of status that constantly brings about a need to gag myself. Watching these narcissistic flesh-robots communicate with one another, they appear to possess all qualities of a normal grouping of friends but its all smoke and mirrors, these folk stopped pumping blood eons ago.
These flesh-covered drones have no concept of loyalty or friendship. They’d just as soon stab their closest friend in the neck with a bread knife for the chance of ninety seconds of “face-time” or the chance to obtain the coveted golden ticket of the background-industry – a SAG Voucher – a simple slip of paper I learned hard but quickly is the only way to procure a decent acting job… if nothing else at least bump the $54 we’re paid to $120 a day.
These drones lack the passion for the craft of acting. They could give fuck-one about the artistic aspects and many complexities in which make acting such a beautiful form of storytelling. They just want to be famous and stick their meat-logs in Paris Hilton.
The whole scene is enough to get the Columbine juice pumping in my usually Zen body…
And again, it’s only been a little over two weeks.
Lucky for me I met Tad a week or so ago on the set of the new Michael Douglas movie. Befriending a guy like Tad makes the work-day and our surroundings somewhat tolerable. The guy’s in his early thirties (even though you’d never be able to tell) and quite possibly the nicest and most humble guy you’d ever meet in a town inhabited by such vultures. Despite my suspicions of his extra-curricular activities beyond the set, he’s the only stable medium in a work environment (and city for that matter) gone mad.
With that said, I can halfway explain the edge I have coursing through my veins as I sit in the only lone corner in the crowded box the AD’s have been gracious enough to assign to us extras. Usually around this time I have Tad to bounce off of and vent to. But as of right now he’s MIA.
Under normal circumstances I’d be able to cool myself down on my own. But today, like none-other I’ve had since meeting Tad, I don’t only find myself in a position to appreciate his generous and sympathetic ear but I long for it. I need someone to vent on soon or I may blow.
Today was supposed to be a good day. Fifteen hours ago, if you can believe it or not, I was actually looking forward to coming to work – it started with a text message—
It was from Rachael.
And at first it lifted me up while down.
I had spent the better half of the day in question fighting with Lauren yet again, over the same subject – LA changing who I am or who she thought I was…
I of course defended myself and fought her off with words like: passion, dream, art, love, us, sacrifice, etc… And after hours of chasing our tails through fruitless dialogue, I finally submitted.
The air in the apartment finally mellowed out. We were watching television. Then the text arrived…
Rachael telling me she was going to be on set today and couldn’t wait to hang out.
I of course was about to propel to the ceiling (for reasons that scare me to dare speculate on) but I still managed to keep my cool. Lauren casually inquired on the sender of the text. I (being an actor) said as calmly as possible, careful not to raise suspicion, “It’s just a work thing.” She then pressed, “If it’s a work thing, why are you so giddy?” To which I immediately replied without a trace of emotion “Because I don’t have to be on set until eight. I get two more hours of sleep. Is that a problem?”
She kept her eyes on me for what seemed like hours but I didn’t break. And by the time whatever reality ‘I love the 80’s’ bullshit on VH1 we were watching came back on, she dropped the whole thing.
On skin-surface, it was business as usual. But inside I was butterflies and fireworks.
Since meeting Rachael she’s been the only thing on my mind. Any passion I once had for my future or for Lauren has all been devoted to this brown eyed angel. She represents to me all of my dreams manifested. It’s a girl like Rachael I had always envisioned myself beside while day-dreaming my future as a successful actor. She’s smart, she’s talented (at least I think she is), and she has that knock out presence that would make any man buckle to wear her on the arm.
Unlike Lauren with her country innocence, Rachael’s got the red carpet written all over her.
The passion I feel for Rachael – in essence a complete stranger – eclipses anything I felt for Lauren even in the beginning stages of our relationship. Rachael has invaded not only my daydreams but my REM as well. Her smile. Her skin. The endless possibilities that can be us.
The small region of my mind still in reality knows it’s silly to be so smitten by Rachael. I hardly know her. And perhaps she’s nothing how I have her built up in my mind. We only spent a few hours at a party after all. I could be more in love with the idea of her than the girl herself. But then again, how am I to know any better without spending more time with her? Sure I once thought the same way about Lauren way back when, but that was the past, I’m growing now and as unfair as it may be for Lauren, I may be ready for a—
“What, are you stoned Andrew?” Tad asks as he pulls me out of my haze. “I’ve been flagging you down from the Kraft Services van for five minutes”.
Tad takes a swig from a gallon of Arrow-Springs water which is standard issue for the health freak. I detect a small amount of cover-up under his eyes, most likely to conceal bags born from a long weekend of partying… a true LA-vet, actor/make-up artist.
He replaces the cap on his water and says, “I haven’t heard from you since the party. Sorry I had to bail on you like that. Some shit came up.”
I think back to the last image of Tad at the party when he interrupted my ‘get to know you time’ with Rachael: he was a complete mess, mind occupied with god-knows-what, and nose rose-red from blow. He was a mess, and judging by his current appearance, whatever he was into that night bled into the rest of the weekend. “It’s no big deal. I managed by myself just fine.” I said.
“Good, I was worried there for a second. It takes a trained eye to sift through the shit one finds at a party like that. Part of me was sure you’d get eaten alive.”
“I’m a big boy Tad. It’s not like I came straight from Dorothy’s Kansas… I know a few tricks myself.” I say with a degree of confidence that’s unusual for me.
“Yeah that may be true, but you still have a lot to learn about this town. It’s destroyed many men stronger than you.”
The scene goes quiet for a beat. Tad pulls back another swig from his water – most likely taking a trip down the memory freeway recalling the many up’s and down’s peppered about the ten years he’s already lived here. I can only imagine the shit he’s seen and learned… which brings me back to why I had wanted to talk to Tad in the first place…
The Rachael situation.
Being stowed away in the apartment with Lauren I’ve had no one to report my feelings to but my own inner ear. There’s no mirror looking from the outside to tell me if I’m mad or on the right track. Here I am, completely infatuated with the image of this stranger, so much so I’m willing to throw everything that once meant something to me away, just in the blind hope that attaining a girl like Rachael would make all that I’ve dreamt of my entire life more attainable. I ever I was in need of being slapped into reality its now… and if anyone could knock some sense into me, it’s Tad.
Right on cue, almost as if he can read my mind, Tad says, “I saw you had no problem making nice with the chicks at that party. Who was the girl you were with? That wasn’t the girlfriend you’ve told me about was it? I thought the party wasn’t her scene?”
And with that one question Tad has finally opened the door in which will make Rachael and my feelings for her a reality rather than something securely stowed away in the most private regions of my mind. “No Lauren stayed back at home. The chick at the party was…” My mind goes flush. How do I put her into words? “She was just…“
“One of those huh?” Tad says with a ‘say-no-more’ type of smile. “Be careful young Skywalker.”
“What are you talking about?” I choked out pathetically.
“I may have been pretty out of it at the party, but I wasn’t blind. You were all kinds of glazed over for that girl. You weren’t even listening when I told you I had to jet. Shit you were so hung on her, she could have told you she was fresh off Chlamydia treatment and you still would have giggled like a giddy little schoolboy anxiously preparing to ask a crush to the dance.”
Tad’s perception comes as a shock to me. Despite his experience in this town and the wisdom he has gained that goes hand-in-hand with a hard-lived-life, I’ve always taken him for kind of a moron. A pretty face so vain and deluded he may have a shot at soap operas but no more… yet here he is, reading me like a big-print book.
I try to respond to Tad’s observation but the ability to form sentences escapes me. Tad picks up from where he left off—
“You’ve got a good thing back at home Drew. Don’t go down that other road unless you’re willing to pay the toll.”
“I was just making a new friend, just like everyone else at the party.” I defend myself fruitlessly.
“People usually don’t make friends at parties like that one, Andrew. It’s at places like that where bridges are burned. Cherries that should never get popped are popped, and souls are propped on the auction block.”
“Well I’m not from around here. Neither is she. We were just, you know, talking.”
“You may be an actor bud but you’re shit at hiding emotions. You’re crushing hard on someone. And I’m betting it’s not your steady squeeze back home. It took me five minutes to get your attention just a moment ago. Believe me buddy; you might as well have a little arrow pointing out your chest.”
Part of me wants to dance around the subject a little longer. We have all the time in the world. It doesn’t look like the scene is starting anytime soon and Rachael is nowhere in sight. Then again I’m tired of harboring all these feelings. Tad’s been right on the money so far… and he’s the only open ear I can expect to find in this zip-code.
“Okay she is cute as all hell, I’ll give you that” I say. “But shit, I have a perfectly good girlfriend at home. It’s not like I’m going to do anything with the chick.”
“Did you get her number?” He says with a dip-shit smile after getting me to crack.
“Yeah but that doesn’t mean anything. She’s new in town too. She could be a good person to know.”
“I’m a good person to know kiddo. Remember When Harry Met Sally? Guys don’t take chicks numbers so they can get together and play a game of RISK. If any game’s gonna be played, it’ll be twister.”
“And you’re so sure of this? Every circumstance doesn’t have to follow the same pattern.”
“Yeah well” He smiles, “This is LA. People tend to fit the same mold.”
Tad takes a moment to clear out his water. He tosses the empty gallon to the side and remains silent with a little smile cracking between his lips. I figure he’s waiting for me to say something.
“It’s hard to explain Tad” I start, searching for the best way to communicate what’s been going on in my head since that party. “I mean there I was at this party – feeling all kinds of foreign – and in walks this chick. This unbelievably gorgeous girl that wouldn’t give me the time of day back east and she’s talking to me. She’s interested in what I have to say… and most of all I’m completely at ease in a situation that normally I’d buckle up and run the other way.”
“You have a girl like that at home too.” He challenges.
“It’s not the same Tad. This chick, she’s different. I mean, all my life I’ve always dreamt of coming out here to become an actor. And peppered over that dream, was the fantasy of having the perfect girl at my side… This girl dude, this girl is the very image of that fantasy. I mean to every detail. I can’t get her out of my mind.”
“What did you spend with her? A whole two hours?” He says in a tone that’s dangerously close to patronizing.
“It doesn’t matter bro. I can just tell. This chick, she’s the next step for me. It’s like we’re made for each other.”
“It always seems that way in the beginning. For everyone. You’re not special brother. I’m sure you felt the same way about the girl you have right now when you first met.”
“That was different. I was in a different place back then. Now I’ve grown.” I think of Lauren pathetically sitting back in the apartment – afraid to walk out the door and wishing she was back in the sticks and can’t help but to shudder. “Lauren’s got nothing to offer me anymore. She doesn’t even want to be here—“
“Yet she is… why do you think that is?”
“Because of me.”
“Doesn’t that tell you something?”
“Yeah sure she loves me” I say, “But she doesn’t have a life of her own. She has no dreams. No aspirations. I’m her entire world. It’s annoying.”
“And you’re so much better? Dude you’re a movie extra. You just moved into town. Don’t get all Kid Notorious too fast. I know it’s tough, but you have to stay in reality.”
There’s that word. Reality… and with it, my mind slows and sobers. I humbly allow Tad to finish his point.
“You’ll meet a dozen chicks a week in this town. Don’t let the idea of one jade you out. I’ve never met Lauren before, but from what you’ve told me the last few times we’ve worked together, I’d say she’s a keeper. This chick dropped life as she knew it so you could come out here and chase a dream. She deserves credit for that. Just because she doesn’t have a dream, doesn’t make het any less a person than you or me. You’re probably just too young to see it, but her dream is you. Besides, it’s not like you’re all that unique chasing the bright lights of Hollywood. Look around you…” Tad gestures toward the thousand plus identical-looking movie extras huddled about the lot. All of them dressed the same. All of them checking themselves out in the mirror. All of them empty shells of a former self that once had a dream. “...wanting to be an actor and chasing a dream makes you the same as everyone under this roof. It’s the girl you have back at your apartment and the love you share that makes you different. Don’t throw that away after meeting some chick at one of the thousand parties you’ll end up going to in this town.”
Tad’s words, although spoken so casually, shake the very ground under my feet. He’s right. Lauren and the love we share is what makes us special. It’s her love that should drive me forward as I pursue my dreams – not some daydream I have over a perfect stranger. I’m reminded of the day I first met Lauren in the sticks two years ago. I remember the rockets in my stomach. Back in that time, Lauren was the only thing in life I wanted. I fought and scrapped long and hard to finally call her mine. And after a year we were finally together. I hadn’t realized it until just now, but Lauren was the first of my dreams to ever come true.
To ever become a reality.
Tempted to jump up and wrap myself around Tad, I take a deep breath and compose myself. My head bobs up-and-down in agreement. “You’re right” I say, “You’re a pretty insightful cat.”
“What have I been telling you?” Tad says with a wink and smile.
Lauren. How could I have been so selfish not to recognize her sacrifice was born of love? How could I have been so bitter to resent her for moving out here solely for me? To lay out like that, to leave her entire life behind, I can now see how loving of a being she is… and at the same time I can’t help but to hate the fact I could never love anyone more than myself enough to make a sacrifice like she has… it’s just not in my makeup… and knowing that, I realize I need Lauren for more reasons than I had once thought… She’s my heart.
“Glad I was able to knock some sense into you” Tad says. “Just out of curiosity, what was the chick’s name you were so gaga over at the party?”
Still thinking back on Lauren I have to ask Tad to repeat himself. He does. I answer his question. And then it happens—
The scent of fresh strawberries finds its way in our space and the symphonic voice I’ve been longing for the entire weekend says from behind us, “Did someone just say my name?”
I turn around and almost hit my back against the floor. Rachael stands before me looking more beautiful than any image I’ve stored away in my mind from the party. Her brown eyes sink deep into my own. Her smile sets my heart at a rapid pace. Even casually dressed in shorts and a tee-shirt she sets my soul on fire. Her porcelain-white legs stretch on and on under a tight pair of black shorts. Her tee-shirt fits neatly around her perfectly proportioned yet still petite torso. Every inch of her begs for my arms. It takes every gallon of whatever will I have left inside not to wrap myself around her and melt.
The dreams of a future with this angel before me take hold of my brain. Any weight of reality rolls off my shoulders and I begin to float.
Tad can see it.
Rachael probably sees it and I could care less.
All I can think of is how Rachael would smell in bed on an early Sunday morning. I look at her beautiful legs and imagine them wrapped around my body. Marveling at her stunning body, I’m completely beyond fantasizing about anything sexual. Her perfectly rounded breasts fail to call the attention of my eyes. I respect her too much. It’s her smile I’m concerned with. The browns of her eyes.
A thousand thoughts and dreams of a life with Rachael flood every bank of my mind…
… and for the life of me, I can’t remember what Tad and I were talking about just a moment ago.
