Acting Lessons

by Adele Buck

  “Oh. Sure.” The younger woman’s expression was an annoying mix of disbelief and pity.

  “What is it to you, anyway?” Freddie could hardly get the words out, her jaw was so tight.

  “Not much. Just that Tara always thought you were into guys all along.”

  Their mutual ex had opinions. And Corinne shared them. Great. “Well, she should have known because I told her at the very beginning that I was bisexual. Not straight. I never made any secret about that.” Freddie struggled to keep her voice low, but she wanted to scream. It had been a while since someone had tried the whole bi-erasure thing on her and she was already off balance enough as it was.

  Corinne glanced at the busier end of the red carpet. “Well, I suppose if I got taken to fancy premieres and probably fancy restaurants too I might be willing to try dick. Once.”

  Gritting her teeth, Freddie pretended she hadn’t heard the woman. She had already gone too far, discussed more of her private business than she was comfortable with. The only way out now was to ignore her condescending bullshit until James was done.

  Freddie looked back at James. He and his castmates had been joined by the child stars of the movie they were celebrating. The entire group was smiling and posing like this was the most normal thing in the world.

  But it wasn’t normal. And it wasn’t Freddie’s world.

  James didn’t feel comfortable until Freddie rejoined him, led over by a production assistant with an officious manner. Conscious of the cameras still trained on him—both the professionals and the fans behind the velvet rope a little way off—he smiled and reached for her hand. Despite her superficial smile, she looked tense and unhappy. He hastened to lead her into the theater, out of the blare of cameras and shouting.

  “What’s the matter, Fred?”

  “Nothing. Just ran into someone I used to know.”

  “Who?”

  “Corinne. The girl with the clipboard. I went to college with her.”

  “The P.A.?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How did she upset you this much in such a short time?”

  “By trying to tell me that I didn’t know who I was.”

  “What?”

  Freddie sighed, a frustrated huff, as they reached the lobby. James steered her into a corner so they could be, well, not private. But at least not in the middle of everything. She looked up at him, her big brown eyes blazing with frustration.

  “She implied—no, she said that because I was with you I was automatically straight. And then told me that our mutual ex used to say that I was. Either she doesn’t believe bisexual people exist or she thinks she can decide what other people are. Either way it was insulting.”

  An irrational jealousy surged in James. He knew she had exes. Hell, he had them too. But it wasn’t as if he liked hearing about them. “What does it matter what she thinks? You know who you are. Isn’t that what matters?”

  “It’s just…” Freddie flung her arms out in frustration. “I was already freaked out enough with this whole movie premiere thing going on. Having to deal with that old bullshit… I don’t know.”

  “Do you want to go? We can, you know. We don’t have to actually watch the movie.”

  Freddie’s eyes narrowed and she folded her arms. “What? That’s ridiculous.”

  James shrugged. “That’s show biz. If you’re an actor at a premiere, they want your photo on the red carpet, but they don’t care about your butt in the seat.”

  “What about the people who are in the movie? Isn’t that rude? I thought you were supposed to be here to support them.”

  “They wouldn’t know we left. They’re probably not here either. Most actors can’t watch their own work. The support was all out there.” James hooked his thumb in the direction of the red carpet.

  “I…” Freddie trailed off, her face filled with conflicting emotions. Then her jaw set, the familiar, stubborn light in her eye glittering. “No. It’s stupid to go to a movie premiere and not see a movie. I don’t care what the industry expectations are.”

  “Fine, then. We’re seeing a movie.”

  Insisting on seeing the movie had to be one of Freddie’s dumber ideas. Sitting in the dark, surrounded by strangers, she felt trapped and restless. The opening credits were goofy. The movie itself was thinly written and poorly acted. The young male lead was especially awful, mugging outrageously instead of acting, his face stretching into ridiculous expressions.

  Freddie shifted in her seat, resisting the urge to take out her phone and check the time. She had at least sixty more minutes of this nonsense to get through, she was sure. Knowing exactly how long she was going to have to sit here wouldn’t help.

  Oh, great. This is one of those “the kids are the only ones who know what’s going on and need to save the world” scenarios. No competent adults anywhere. Half of her was annoyed that she would have loved this movie when she was a kid. The other half of her was annoyed that she had made the decision to stay out of sheer cussedness instead of leaving when James gave her the opportunity.

  Basically, all of her was annoyed for a veritable buffet of reasons.

  Fed up, she leaned over and whispered in James’ ear. “Excuse me. Bathroom.” Getting to her feet, she made her way in the semidarkness to the lobby and then to the ladies’ room. On exiting the stall, she nearly groaned. Corinne was at the row of sinks, washing her hands. Gritting her teeth, Freddie moved to the sink the furthest away from the other woman.

  “I guess you can just ignore me because I’m a lowly production assistant and you’re dating some up and coming star,” Corinne said.

  Freddie grabbed a paper towel and began to dry her hands. “No, I can ignore you because you were being a petty bitch out there for no reason.”

  Corinne folded her arms and glared. “No reason? Tara could never stop talking about you, even when we were dating. Forgive me if I’ve had enough of you.”

  Freddie blinked, the woman’s ridiculous complaint deflating like a tired balloon. “You know what? I have nothing to do with that. Take your beef back to Tara. That is, if you’re still speaking. Which I doubt. Because, as I said, you’re a petty bitch.” Corinne’s mouth opened to reply and Freddie threw her towel away and turned on her heel, her pulse pounding and her skin feeling oversensitive. Enough with this.

  When she reached the lobby, James was there, leaning against the wall opposite the door to the ladies’ room, his arms crossed over his chest. “What are you doing here?”

  “Thought you might have changed your mind about the movie.”

  Perversely, her temper rose again. She wanted nothing more than to leave, but she resented the fact that everyone seemed to think they knew her mind better than she did. “What makes you think that?”

  “The fact that you fidgeted for the entire twenty minutes of it that you saw and immediately went off to the restroom? That was a tiny hint.”

  The bathroom door opened behind her and the pressure behind Freddie’s eyeballs rose as she forced herself to wait as Corinne took herself off to wherever she had to be. When they had the corridor to themselves, she took a deep, shuddering breath. “And you’re such an expert on me?”

  James raked his upper lip with his teeth. “Yeah. I think I kind of am. I’ve taken the time to get to know you. And you’re all over the place tonight. What the hell is going on?”

  Freddie’s heart hammered against her sternum. “What the hell is going on? I signed up for a relationship, not a circus wrapped in a burrito photographed by a psycho. I don’t know what all this red carpet bullshit is, but it is not my scene, not my thing, and I am not here for it.”

  Hardly knowing what she was doing, Freddie spun away from James and dashed out a side exit.

  Chapter 13

  Stunned by Freddie’s sudden departure, James stood for a moment, blinking at the spot where she had stood. Rousing himself, he tore after her, but when he reached the street, she was already out of sight. Scanning the sidewalk, he tried to figur
e out which way she would have gone. She was wearing heels, that would have slowed her down. Where would she go?

  Home, of course.

  How was she likely to get there?

  The nearest subway.

  Running was impossible on the crowded sidewalk, but he moved as fast as he could, looking for Freddie all the while. He wasn’t that far behind her, was he?

  Reaching the station, he made it down the stairs and through the turnstiles only to see a train just pulling away from the platform.

  Shit. He could just bet that she was on it.

  He pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped a quick message.

  Where are you? You ok?

  Fidgeting, he stared at the screen, willing her to respond. Nothing. No pulsing dots, no message by the time another train entered the station. Stepping into the nearest car, he bit his lip and deliberately typed another message.

  Come on, I’m worried about you.

  Freddie already felt like a world-class fool by the time her phone buzzed.

  Where are you? You ok?

  She slumped in her seat and stared at the screen of her phone, her mind roiling.

  Part of her was inclined to type out a quick message indicating that she was fine. Another part of her wondered if she was, in fact, fine at all.

  She bit her lip, paralyzed with indecision, her eyes unfocused. Her phone buzzed again.

  Come on, I’m worried about you.

  Great. Now she felt like a fool and a jerk. It wasn’t like she meant to worry James. She just hated the whole scene that he was a part of. The glittering attention, the neediness from complete strangers. The jealousy. The cameras. How could she ever be fine with all of that?

  She typed out a reply.

  I’m ok. Just needed to get away from that scene.

  Dots paraded across her screen, indicating his immediate response.

  You on the train?

  Yeah.

  She stared at the screen until it went black again, waiting for a response that didn’t come.

  After his train got stuck in a tunnel for twenty minutes, James was boiling with anxiety and frustration as he got off at Freddie’s stop. The energy of the emotion carried him up the stairs and all the way to the front door of her building. He buzzed her apartment and waited.

  Shit. Maybe she hadn’t gone home after all. He had been so sure of what she would do. So sure he knew her so well. He clasped his hands behind his neck and stared at his reflection in the glass of the door as if it could give him answers, then shook his head and dug out his phone to send her another text.

  “James?” Freddie’s voice sounded behind him and he turned to find her on the sidewalk, a silver-and-black striped plastic shopping bag in her hand. “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to make sure you were okay. Where have you been?”

  Her jaw clenched. “Last I checked, you weren’t my dad. And not even he gets to police what I do and where I go.”

  James rubbed his face with one hand, his other clutching his phone in a fair imitation of a death grip. “Okay. Fine. I’m sorry. I was worried about you.”

  “I texted you that I was okay.”

  Gritting his teeth and willing himself not to explode, James said, “Forgive me for still being worried after you basically bolted on me in the middle of a conversation.”

  Freddie’s eyes went uncertain and her spine sagged. “No, I’m sorry. I… feel like an fool and when I feel that way I lash out.” She reached into the bag and pulled out a bottle of bourbon. “I stopped at the liquor store. That’s where I was.”

  “Can I come up? Can we talk?”

  Freddie looked at him. Time stretched to the breaking point.

  “Yeah. Okay.”

  Letting them into her apartment, Freddie could feel her shoulders seizing with tension. She knew it wasn’t fair, what she had done. She also didn’t know what else she could have done. The pressure of the whole situation had gotten completely out of hand.

  Miranda, predictably, made a beeline for James as he shed his jacket, stretching up and putting her paws on his thigh.

  “Hey, pretty lady.” James reached down to rub the cat’s head and Miranda leaned into him, her eyes slits of pleasure. Freddie set the bottle of bourbon down on her kitchen counter a little too hard.

  “Drink?”

  “Sure.”

  Freddie opened a cabinet and pulled out two juice glasses, pouring a couple of fingers into each. Turning back to James, she nearly groaned. He had picked Miranda up, but that wasn’t enough for the cat. She was settling herself onto his shoulders and neck like one of those fox stoles in a black and white movie. Freddie half expected her to bite her own tail just to complete the effect.

  “That cat loves you in a way that is probably illegal in at least twenty-five states.” Freddie handed James a glass, irritated that he had to stop fondling her cat’s chin to take the drink. His other hand continued to stroke the twitching tip of Miranda’s tail. The cat was actually falling asleep on him, her eyes blissfully shut, her body visibly relaxing.

  I can’t believe I’m jealous of a cat.

  You could have his attention if you wanted it.

  But do I? When I know what strings are attached? How many photographs, how many internet comments, how many…other things and other people come along with that?

  Freddie took a deep breath and sipped her bourbon. James, followed suit and made a face. “Rough stuff, Fred.”

  Irritation surged through her, energizing her and sapping her at the same time. “Not all of us can afford…” She waved a hand, not even knowing what she meant. “Whatever television stars drink.”

  James toyed with Miranda’s tail and looked at Freddie without saying anything long enough for her to start to feel guilty for her outburst.

  Freddie waved a hand at James. “Okay, so say whatever you’re dying to say.”

  “I’m not dying to say anything.”

  “Well, you must be dying to put me in the wrong. Freddie can’t hack it, cut her loose.”

  James tossed back the rest of the bourbon in his glass, his throat convulsing. Miranda shifted on his shoulders, sleepy and oblivious. Stepping to the counter, he put the empty glass down with deliberation. “I’m not dying to put you in the wrong. I want to understand what is going on with you. I want us to be okay. That is literally exactly what I want to do. But you seem determined to either push me away or make me push you away. Why is that?”

  Freddie cradled her glass in her hands and looked at it as if holding it required all her concentration. “I’m not… I don’t know what I’m doing. I just know that tonight gave me the willies and I don’t want to feel like that. The scene on the red carpet…the way total strangers think they own you or something. The crazy jealousy.”

  “I can’t influence how other people behave. I can only control my own behavior.”

  “I know. And I can’t control how I feel about how they act. The things they say.”

  He folded his arms across his chest. “Why does it bug you so much?”

  “Why doesn’t it bug you?”

  James blinked. “I wouldn’t say it doesn’t. It just doesn’t give me hives the way it does you.”

  “You don’t feel weirded out by so many people wanting a piece of you?”

  “I don’t really think about it much. I have a job to do. I do it. When people like it, it makes my employers happy. They continue to pay me. That’s pretty much it.”

  “Back in the day you talked about getting into production, getting out of acting.”

  “Yeah, I talked about getting out of acting when the gigs dried up. What I have right now is the opposite of that. Are you saying you want me to give up acting entirely when I have the biggest role of my life to date? To give up on my future as an actor altogether? The future that might make it easier to transition out to directing or production when the time comes?”

  “No.” Freddie’s chin jutted.

  James sc
rubbed his face with his hands. “Do you even know what you want?”

  “I want you. But without the baggage and the invasive people with cameras.” Her voice sounded tight, close to tears.

  James huffed a frustrated sigh. “Well, at the moment I happen to come with the baggage and the invasive people with cameras. It is literally part of my job.”

  Freddie set down her glass, covering her eyes with her hands as if she could shut everything out. “I hate it. I hated tonight. I hated the shouting and the flashes and the…well, all of it.”

  “I said it was part of my job, not yours. You don’t have to do a premiere ever again. We can figure this out.” James moved toward her, trying to make her see.

  “Can we? Even if I don’t go to another one of those stupid things, I’m still going to get my photo snapped whenever I’m out with you. I’m still going to have total strangers wondering about my life, making assumptions about who I am simply because I’m with you. Maybe even digging into my private life, putting personal details up on the internet for anyone to see.”

  “Can’t you stay off the internet?”

  “Why should I have to? Why should I have to wall myself off for fear I’ll see yet another picture of me that I didn’t agree to?”

  Because you love me? The thought came from nowhere. He didn’t dare say it.

  “Why didn’t you tell me before you felt this strongly about all this?”

  Freddie shrugged. “It wasn’t like I knew it all at once. I’d only had that one experience on the subway. But tonight made it crystal clear. It was everything I hated about seeing my picture on the internet, but dialed up to eleven.”

  Frustration surged through James. He wanted to hit something, bang his fist on the counter. Instead, he took a deep breath in through his nose. “But you don’t have to do any more red carpets. It was an experiment, and not something we have to repeat.”