Young Adulting

by Christina Benjamin

  “You’re just an intern?” I shouted.

  She took a step back. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re Isabelle Ellis, from Polarizing Picture, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re an intern, not a junior script developer?”

  Her cheeks blazed as red as her dress and she shrunk in on herself as she noticed people were starting to stare. “Can you please lower your voice,” she whisper-hissed. “And how do you know about that, anyway?”

  Crap. She had me there. I was Henry tonight, not Leo. But did I really care if the truth came out? She was the real imposter here. “You lied to Leo.”

  Her doe-like eyes widened. “Leo Lang. Do you know him or something?”

  “Or something,” I grumbled. “And let me tell you, he won’t be signing over his script to a liar like you!”

  I turned to storm away, because if I didn’t get out of her sight, I was going to say something I’d regret, something I couldn’t take back. But honestly, how much could one guy take?

  In the past year I’d been rejected by my girlfriend and just about every producer in town. Polarizing Pictures had been my last hope, but the whole thing was a hoax.

  Isabelle Ellis was a fraud and she’d just flushed my future down the toilet.

  I couldn’t believe I’d fallen for it. And then I remembered something else that sparked my anger so swiftly I stopped in my tracks.

  I’d let this girl—this intern—get in my head and make me second guess my script. That was not okay. I turned around to give her a piece of my mind and stumbled in surprise to find she was marching up to me like she was on a mission.

  So, she wanted a fight, did she?

  Good, because I was done being the dutiful son, done being the respectful actor, done being taken advantage of, and it was time I made that known.

  Izzy

  Just like that, my night went from a dream come true to a living nightmare.

  I stood there for a heartbeat as my heart went into overdrive and adrenaline flooded my veins.

  You’re just an intern.

  The words were shouted like a criminal accusation. He might as well have said stop, thief! before attacking me like that.

  For lying to Leo.

  The flare of guilt nearly swamped me, but it was quickly replaced by confusion because...how did Henry know about that?

  As he walked away from me, stomping like a freakin’ overgrown spoiled child, I realized that none of that mattered. What mattered was that he knew. What mattered was that he was going to tell Leo. What mattered was...he’d just threatened to ruin my best chance at making it in this business.

  My fists clenched and I blocked out the curious stares and the whispers that surrounded me. Henry had caused this unwanted attention. He’d ambushed me, called me a liar—I’d exaggerated, it was what people did in this town. As if Henry Landon didn’t know that. Like he wasn’t as fake as they come.

  There was no way I was letting him get the last word. I whipped around and headed after him.

  Who the hell does Henry Landon think he is?

  I latched onto my anger as I stormed after him because I’d be damned if an entitled egomaniac who’d never had to work for anything in his life would threaten my career over something so stupid as a fudged title.

  I was a junior script developer, I would be a junior script developer. Same difference.

  The key there was the only way I would be landing the job was with Leo Lang’s help.

  Henry turned around like he was going to head back my way but he stopped when he saw me coming, his eyes flaring with surprise before they narrowed again in a glare that was as fierce as it was patronizing.

  I tipped my chin up higher, trying not to notice the curious stares that were following my every move.

  If this big-headed narcissist thought he could intimidate me with a glare, he was sorely mistaken.

  Self-righteous anger had me marching up to him, not stopping until I was so close I could smell his aftershave and feel the heat from his stare. “Listen up, Landon Junior,” I said, jabbing a finger into his chest. “You don’t know the first thing about me, so don’t you dare accuse me of being a liar—”

  His snort of disbelief cut into my tirade. “You think I don’t know you, little intern?” He leaned in closer. “This town is filled with wannabes like you. It’s crawling with upstarts who think they can flash a pretty smile or sleep their way to the top—”

  My gasp of outrage was loud enough for everyone around us to hear, but I didn’t even care. My cheeks were burning with humiliation at the accusation but the rest of me was on fire with rage. “How dare you,” I hissed. “You don’t even know me and yet you think you can compare one tiny little exaggeration to sleeping my way to the top?” I shook my head, temporarily too angry to speak. “What is wrong with you?”

  “What’s wrong with me?” he shot back. He leaned in even closer and a distant part of my brain realized that we were right in each other’s faces. Only a couple of inches of heated air was between us and the partygoers around us had grown silent. “What’s wrong with me?” he repeated, even louder this time. “How about the fact that you straight up lied to my friend—”

  “I didn’t lie—” I started.

  “Misled, exaggerated…” He waved a hand and looked down his nose at me with outright scorn. “Whatever you want to call it, you got Leo’s hopes up. You made him think that someone actually believes in his work—”

  “I do!” My voice was too high, my tone shrill. This gorgeous dress had been tight to begin with and now my lungs strained to draw in an even breath.

  He eyed me from head-to-toe and that dress might as well have been made out of cellophane. Those dark, burning eyes raked over me like they could see everything. Everything. From my hand-me-down clothes to the ten-dollar haircut. His eyes seemed to look past the borrowed gown and the fancy hair, straight to the poor, small-town farm girl underneath.

  I felt naked standing before him and his eyes said he didn’t just see right through me...he judged.

  This egotistical alphahole was judge, jury, and executioner.

  “You’re nothing but a fraud,” he said. “Just like everyone else in this town.”

  “Just like you, you mean.” The words were just slipping off my tongue. My brain was no longer in control as anger took over entirely. “You think you’re in any position to judge when you were born into a career most people have to work for? You wouldn’t know how to survive in this world without your last name and all the perks that come with it.”

  His nostrils flared and his hands were balled into fists as he talked through his clenched jaw. “Who do you think you are to talk to me like that?”

  For a second I nearly cowered. Who did I think I was?

  A wave of doubt had me blinking and backing up as reality hit me with a jolt.

  Who do I think I am? I was here as Colin’s guest! I was here representing the production company. I was here to celebrate his father’s movie.

  Oh crap. I’d messed up. I backed up a little more and my stomach turned at the sight of his smirk.

  He’d won and he knew it. But not because he was right—okay, fine, maybe he was a little right—but he’d only won this fight because he was the one in power here and I…

  I could lose everything I’d ever wanted with one word from this jerk.

  I swallowed down my next insult, I forced myself to let it go.

  “You’re not welcome at this party,” he said, his tone unbearably smug. “And stay away from Leo.”

  The words felt like a slap in the face as I took another step back to get away from him. But that next step back had me bumping into someone and then my heel caught on something and I was falling...right into a server holding a tray of drinks.

  I heard the gasps around me but I could only gape down at my beautiful dress—the one Kendal had altered and let me borrow.

  Oh crap, it was ruined.

  Wine soaked
through and chilled my skin as I righted myself, mumbled an apology to the server, before I hurried toward the exit.

  I didn’t try to find Colin because I didn’t want to embarrass him any further than I likely had already.

  Besides, I had to get home. I had to get out of this dress…

  And I had to bury my head in my pillow and cry over the disaster this night had become.

  The nearest bus stop was nearly a half mile away—a miserable walk in these heels, but the fresh air and distance helped me to calm down and think. I shoved aside all the angry thoughts about a certain pampered jerk with the epic jawline and focused on what mattered—Leo.

  Leo and my chance to earn a position at Polarizing Pictures if they liked my pitch.

  I took a deep breath and then another. By the time I reached the bus stop I knew what I had to do. I pulled out my phone and called up Leo’s last message. I started to reply with an explanation, but stopped myself.

  Not over email. This was a conversation best had in person.

  So instead, I sent him a quick note asking him when he’d be back because there were some things I’d really like to clear up in person.

  I turned off the phone and stuck it back in my clutch with a heavy sigh.. Now all I could do was wait and pray that Leo listened to me before Henry had a chance to tell him that I was…

  What was it he’d said again?

  Oh, that’s right. Just an intern.

  I scowled at the traffic that whizzed by as I waited for my ride home. The bus drew up slowly...a pumpkin carriage it was not. But if tonight taught me anything, it was that the whole Hollywood fairytale thing?

  It wasn’t meant for people like me.

  I’d have my success—with or without Leo’s script, and despite anything Henry might try to do to stop me. But I’d do it the only way I knew how, the way someone like Henry Landon couldn’t even begin to imagine.

  I’d work my butt off.

  When the bus came to a stop in front of me I blinked in surprise because...there he was. Henry Landon, King of the Jerks. His huge head was plastered on the side of the bus in a promo for Hermosa Beach.

  The bus doors opened and closed but I turned away, already heading in the direction of my temporary home.

  I’d rather walk.

  Chapter Five

  Henry

  I ducked into my trailer and collapsed onto my couch. Finally, I had a moment to myself. I’d spent all morning blocking reshoots for Hermosa Beach because our incompetent framing crew hadn’t done their jobs adequately the first time. Like any of us wanted to be back here reshooting the same cheesy scenes over again.

  I certainly had better things to do than reprise Max Harding’s horrible one-liners. The only silver lining was that Elena wasn’t in my scenes today. I wish I could say I’d been that lucky all week, but yesterday we’d had to film more footage of our romantic beach scene.

  To say my heart wasn’t in it was an understatement. It had been much easier to make out with Elena when we’d been a couple off set as well as on the show. Call me crazy, but I found it beyond my acting abilities to pull off swoon-worthy boyfriend vibes with a girl who’d admitted she’d only been using me.

  At least I’d been able to escape to the solitude of my set trailer while everyone took a lunch break. I decided to distract myself by scrolling through my Instagram feed.

  Big mistake.

  Complaining about kissing Hollywood’s hottest actress wasn’t going to get me much sympathy. There were pictures of me and Elena at my father’s premiere plastered everywhere, which did nothing to dispel the rumors that we were on-again. But still, Elena Rhodes was my ex-girlfriend. And having to shoot in such close quarters with her all week had pushed my already foul mood into uncharted territory.

  I was still stewing over my run-in with that fraud, Isabelle Ellis. Tomorrow would mark a week since the party where she dashed all my hopes and dreams. I’d yet to figure out how to respond to her. I’d opened up her email to Leo a dozen times but continued to oscillate between pissed and humiliated, unable to find the right words to reply.

  I debated whether to tell her I was Leo, but then I felt like too much of a hypocrite to hang onto my anger, which I still had an abundance of when it came to the bossy little blonde. I may have lied about my name, but she lied about her title and in this instance, that was much worse.

  Not being who she said she was brought any progress I thought I’d made with my script to a screeching halt. Which was even more frustrating considering I’d managed to swallow my pride long enough to objectively study her notes. Some of them actually had merit and would make Beyond Sunset shine even more.

  Too bad none of that mattered since Little Miss Fake-it-till-you-make-it didn’t have enough clout to get a business card made, let alone a film.

  Still, I found myself pulling up her email again. My finger hovered over the reply icon, Isabelle’s words from the party floating back to me like it was only yesterday.

  You wouldn’t know how to survive in this world without your last name and all the perks that come with it.

  She’d singled out my worst fears in one eloquent sentence; that my only true talent was being related to those with the real talent. And even though it might be the truth, it was why I couldn’t let go of my anger.

  How dare she judge me so harshly when she herself was doing the same thing, deceiving others to get what she wanted. Besides, when it came down to it, weren’t we both the same? Just two people trying to carve out a place in the world. A place we’d earned and could call our own…

  My warring emotions had me closing the email again. I knew I wasn’t able to communicate objectively yet.

  Wait.

  I paused, pulling up the email again. Why was I the one who had to take the high road? Yes, I might have said some unflattering things in the heat of the moment, but she’s the one who started this whole thing.

  Besides, I could reply as Leo. He was the perfect cover in this situation. I’d let him be the scapegoat. Isabelle could hate made-up Leo Lang for all I cared. They were a phony match made in heaven.

  I clicked reply and began typing out a curt response about rescinding my script rights when a notification popped up.

  My heart skipped a beat. It was from Isabelle!

  I abandoned my reply and clicked on her new email.

  Dear Leo,

  I feel like I owe you an apology. Since I haven’t heard back from you in nearly a week, I’m assuming Henry Landon has spoken to you. I had an unfortunate encounter with him at a party last Friday, and though it wasn’t his truth to share, I do believe that I owe you my honesty and an explanation to go with it.

  It’s true that currently I am only an intern at Polarizing Pictures. Though I do not hold the position I led you to believe, I know I will achieve it if we work together to develop your script into a film.

  My boss has incentivized all the interns at the studio with a contest; the prize being a permanent position as a junior script developer. The goal is to find the best script and that’s why I’ve chosen yours.

  I believe in you and the story you’ve written so much that I’m putting all my faith in you and this project.

  I’ve wanted to do this my whole life and I can tell from your writing that you have that same kind of passion. That’s why I think we would work so well together. I know I’m not where I want to be yet, but with your script, I will be.

  Winning the permanent position here will put me in the perfect spot to give your script the attention it deserves. And please know how much I am willing to dedicate to Beyond Sunset. It is truly a rare gem.

  I’ve read every single script in our submission department. Yours is simply the best.

  Please don’t let our rocky start diminish that.

  Sincerely,

  Isabelle Ellis - lowly intern, (junior script developer hopeful)

  I found myself smiling at her humorous new title. But more than that, I had a newfound respect for her.
The girl was going for it. It was clear that she believed in Beyond Sunset, maybe even more than I did if she was willing to stake her entire future on it.

  I knew how hard it was to get a job at a place like Polarizing Pictures. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for someone without connections like mine, and they didn’t come around very often. It seemed Isabelle Ellis had nothing left to lose and that was exactly the kind of frantic determination it would take to get my little indie script made into a movie.

  Maybe she was worth a second chance after all.

  I could at least tell her I was interested in going through her notes for the script. Even if it didn’t work out between us, I was always interested in making Beyond Sunset the best it could be.

  My finger hovered over the reply button when a knock at my trailer door startled me.

  “Yes?”

  Shari poked her head in. “They’re ready for you on set in ten.”

  “What? I haven’t had lunch yet.”

  “Really?”

  I blew out a slow breath as I silently prayed for patience. “How could I have eaten my lunch when you haven’t brought it to me?”

  I watched Shari’s unremarkable features run the gamut—confusion, realization, surprise, then finally befuddled regret. “Henry, I’m so sorry! I didn’t think you wanted me to bring you anything for lunch.”

  “I’m human, Shari. I eat food just like everyone else,” I grumbled.

  “You haven’t touched anything I brought you all week and yesterday you didn’t want any. I guess I thought…” she trailed off and looked at the floor, chewing her lip as she tried to find a way to dig herself out of this hole. “I guess I thought maybe you were on a diet.”

  I almost laughed, that’s how humorous the idea of me dieting was. Playing a teenage lifeguard pretty much guaranteed I was already in the best shape of my life. Thanks to having to act without a shirt on ninety percent of the time I’d already shaved my body-fat down to next to nothing. But despite her incompetence, Shari was right, I hadn’t been eating much this week.