Fame, Fate, and the First Kiss

by Kasie West

  “Have what?” I couldn’t help but stare at Leah with my new knowledge that she was dating my dad. I had never noticed before how edgy she was, or at least never thought about it. Way edgier than my dad. She had several tattoos down her arms, a nose ring, and cute choppy purple hair.

  “Your premade cheek section,” she said, bringing me back to the moment.

  “Why would I have that? You always take it.”

  She cursed under her breath, then went back to the couch cushions.

  “Is it missing?”

  “Yes.”

  Crap. Crap, crap, crap! So I wasn’t being paranoid at all. Someone was messing with things on set. Did this have to do with the conversation I’d heard in the hall? Did someone not want me here? Was someone trying to make me look bad? But this newest sabotage would be more of a reflection on Leah than me. Maybe the person didn’t realize that I wasn’t in charge of that zombie piece.

  I immediately started helping Leah look. I began at one end of the room and thoroughly inspected everything. It wasn’t until I was to the other end of the room that I said, “I’ll be right back. I’m going to check a few places.”

  “Do you have any ideas?”

  “Maybe.”

  She shooed her hand in my direction. “Go. Hurry.”

  The only place I could think to look was where I’d found my kneepads. Maybe the thief had put the zombie cheek in the same place. But when I got to the dark set and opened every single desk drawer, it wasn’t there.

  It was early, but I decided to head to the row of trailers anyway. Grant’s security guards let me through, and soon I was pounding on Grant’s door. He answered, pulling a shirt on, then running a hand through his hair.

  “What is it? Did you want to practice our kissing scene again? Just let me brush my teeth.”

  “Have you seen my zombie face?” I pointed to my cheek.

  “Yeah.”

  I took a breath of relief. “You have?”

  “Of course. I see it all the time.”

  “No, I mean off my face.”

  He shook his head. “No. Why?”

  “It’s missing.”

  “That’s weird.”

  “You still think it’s nothing?” I asked. “That someone is not purposely messing with things?”

  “I think there are a lot of hands moving things around and yes, things happen. Accidents.”

  “Whatever. I’ll see you later.” I ran toward Amanda’s trailer and pounded on her door.

  She opened it. “Where’s the fire?”

  “Did you take my zombie face?” Maybe she’d been pranking me like she had that day in the shower.

  “What? No.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “You wished I had?”

  “Yes, actually. Then I’d have it now. It’s been taken.”

  “By who?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll come help you look for it. It probably just got misplaced.” She stepped out in what she was wearing—shorts and a tank top without shoes. It was pretty similar to my outfit, except I wore flip-flops. We rushed back to makeup together.

  “Tell me you found it,” Leah said when we arrived.

  “No, we didn’t.”

  She released a slow breath. “I guess I need to go tell Remy the bad news.”

  She left, and Amanda and I looked at each other, then began searching the room again.

  “What will happen if we can’t find it?” I asked.

  “They’ll have to make another one, which could take a day or two. Did you finish all your human scenes yesterday?”

  “The ones that take place here in the studio.”

  “Then I guess you get an unexpected day or two off. Yay?”

  I closed my eyes. I was thinking this would be worse for Leah than me, but had this been the end game—to make sure I wasn’t on set for a couple of days?

  “It will be okay,” Amanda said.

  “I’m going to go look in my trailer,” I said. “Maybe someone stashed it there to frame me.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  We searched the trailer for quite some time. “Do you honestly think this is just a series of accidents?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I’ve seen enough weird things on set to think that maybe it is.”

  “But that article wasn’t an accident.”

  “That’s true.”

  There was a knock on the door. “Come in,” I said.

  Noah poked his head in and said, “Remy’s called a meeting you both need to be at.”

  “When?” Amanda asked.

  “Now,” he said, and shut the door.

  “Well, let’s go face the music,” Amanda said.

  I stayed where I was on the floor by my wardrobe. Amanda walked over and held her hand out for me. “Are you seriously worried?”

  “Yes. I don’t know why someone would do this.”

  “I think this will all blow over.”

  I took her hand and let her help me to my feet. “I hope you’re right.”

  Remy was beyond angry as we joined the rest of the cast and crew in the studio. He was pacing the floor, and if this were a movie, I would imagine the director would add steam coming off his head.

  “Where is Grant?” I whispered.

  “He’s the big star. They probably won’t make him come out here for this,” Amanda answered.

  I didn’t respond because Remy started. “The big section that Lacey wears on her cheek while playing the zombie is missing. This is obviously unacceptable. Has anyone seen it?”

  An eruption of chatter followed, people obviously surprised by the announcement. I looked around to see if there was anyone who didn’t look surprised. Noah, who stood off to the side alone was the only one. But that’s probably because he found out when Remy did, when Leah told him. Where was Leah, anyway?

  “Lacey obviously can’t film today, so we’ll be changing up the call sheet to some scenes without her. Check your emails in thirty minutes to see if those scenes involve you. You may go.”

  People scattered as though they were grateful they didn’t get sprayed with fire.

  “I better go to makeup,” Amanda said, “because I’m sure those scenes will involve me.”

  “Yes, go. I guess I’m going home.” I turned to go collect my things from my trailer when Remy stopped me with, “Lacey. A word.”

  I swallowed hard and joined him by a large light. I noted the sandbags on its base that kept it from falling over.

  “Are you sure you have no idea as to what might have happened to it?”

  “I’m positive. Leah usually takes it.”

  “Leah has been let go.”

  “What?” I asked in shock.

  “Her assistant, Simone, will be taking over the rest of filming. Luckily we have the original mold, we should be able to get a rush on it and have a new one in hand by tomorrow. Keep your eye on your inbox.” With that, he left.

  In my trailer I put on some actual clothes for the day and sat on the couch. Leah was fired. The woman my dad was dating. I wasn’t sure how he would react, but I wasn’t going to find out over the phone. As much as I didn’t want to, I headed home.

  Twenty-Five

  What was my dad going to say when he found out the woman he liked was fired because of me? Well, maybe not exactly because of me, but it felt like it.

  The sun was bright as I pulled up to the apartment building. The paint on the outside was a fading yellow, and the stucco had long cracks extending all the way to the eaves. I’d never noticed that before. I usually came home after dark.

  I unlocked and opened the door with a creak. “Hello!” I called out because I wasn’t sure who was here.

  “Lace?” My dad stood in the small kitchen, a pan of scrambled eggs on the stove. “You’re home really early.”

  “I am.”

  He pulled another plate from the cupboard and spooned some eggs onto it. He set it down at the bar for me.r />
  “Thanks.” I plopped onto a barstool. His laptop was open on the counter, and just as I was about to ask him if Leah had told him what happened, I saw what he was reading—the online article about me.

  “Were you ever going to tell me about that?” he asked.

  “About what? Some online gossip?” Like I needed my dad to find out someone on set might be targeting me. I wasn’t sure what he’d do if he knew, but I was sure it would involve talking to Remy. And considering Remy just fired Leah, I didn’t need any more attention on me.

  “If it’s not true, then I’m going to call them and demand that they print a retraction.”

  “Dad, my name is already all over the internet. My picture too. You can’t run around demanding people take down something that I’m purposely putting there.”

  He jammed his finger at the screen of his computer. “You purposely put this out there?”

  “Not that specifically, but myself. I’m going to be famous one day, and there’s nothing you can do to stop that.” I was standing now.

  “Until you’re eighteen, I can try my hardest.”

  “Why don’t you just support me?” If he supported me, I could tell him that the article really did hurt me. That I hated reading that stuff about myself. If he had made it easy to talk to him, I could ask for his advice.

  “Because you’re too young, odds are all this attention is going to change you. And not for the better.”

  “And if I was older, I’d be fine?” I asked, anger tightening my throat.

  “Yes, actually. If you were older, you would be more grounded in who you are.”

  “It’s nice that my own father has no faith in me!”

  “It not that; Leah has told me all sorts of stories about—”

  “About me?” I asked.

  “No, but about other young stars.”

  “Well, then I guess it’s a good thing she won’t be around to spy on me anymore. She got fired today!” I spit out the words and immediately wanted to take them back, deliver that differently, because I could tell it was the first time he was hearing this. She hadn’t told him yet. But I couldn’t, and no matter how I’d delivered it, he needed to know. That announcement stunned my dad silent, and I took the opportunity to flee to my bedroom.

  I lay on my bed staring at the empty text box on my phone. For the last hour I’d been trying to compose a text to Donavan. I had typed and erased several variations of: Sorry about showing up at your work last night with a narcissist actor, a demanding one, and a clueless one. You figure out which one was which. We’re actually probably interchangeable. But I couldn’t send it. I always did better face-to-face. Except with him, it seemed. With him I’d been a mess from day one. So maybe I needed to just let him go. I didn’t want to, because it felt like I needed his help now more than ever. Yes, we were definitely interchangeable. Or maybe I was all three qualities by myself.

  I sighed, put my phone on the nightstand, and pulled the blankets over my head.

  Amanda crushed me into a hug the next morning as I was exiting my trailer, heading toward makeup. “I missed you yesterday.”

  “How was yesterday? Did anyone seem super happy that I was gone?”

  “Not that I saw, and I was looking.”

  “I need to get to makeup with . . . Quick, remind me what the makeup person’s name is. I feel bad; I should remember.” What I really felt bad about was that Leah was fired. And about the fight I’d had with my dad the day before. Not just how I delivered the news but about everything he’d said leading up to that.

  “Her name is Simone.”

  “Simone. That’s right.”

  “I still don’t believe Leah was fired,” Amanda said.

  “Me neither.”

  “Although maybe I should’ve expected it with her history with Remy.”

  “She has a history with Remy?” I asked, surprised. “As in . . .”

  “Yes, they used to date.” Amanda looked over my shoulder. “I have to run. I’m happy you’re back.” She gave me another hug, then took off quick.

  Leah had a history with Remy and now my dad was dating her . . . could that be some sort of clue?

  Twenty-Six

  “Lacey Barnes,” Grant said as he joined me in the room representing Scarlett’s bedroom. I was sitting on the edge of the bed, and he sat down beside me.

  “Grant James.”

  “You look like you’ve been through death.”

  “Haven’t you heard? I’m a zombie,” I said.

  He smiled. Grant was charming, I had to admit. But I also had to admit that he was a suspect on the list I had started in my head of people who might want me gone. He was trying to redeem himself, and like the article stated, I wasn’t up to that task. Was it possible that whoever was sabotaging me was trying to get me fired like Leah?

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.

  “Like what?”

  “Like you want to eat my brains.”

  “Just getting into character.”

  The lights were bright on set, we were filming a daytime scene, but I looked out over the crowd in the studio who were regulars. They all moved through and around props and lights and monitors like an ant colony, hard at work. Remy was talking to the camera operator as he often did before takes. My eyes caught on one of the bodies that wasn’t moving. He wore flip-flops and long shorts, his gray hair was slicked back, and he was on the phone.

  “Your agent is here again.”

  Grant lifted his hand to block some of the light and squinted. “Oh yeah.” He waved, and his agent waved back.

  “Why is he here again?”

  “He likes me. Plus, I’m his biggest client. He wants to make sure things are going smoothly.”

  “And does he feel like they are?”

  “Yes, Lacey. Speaking of random people hanging around the set,” Grant said. “Isn’t that your tutor guy?”

  My heart leaped into my throat, and I immediately scanned the studio. Sure enough, Donavan was toward the back, some sort of notebook in his hand, talking to someone.

  “What’s he doing?” Grant asked.

  “Not sure,” I said. What was he doing? “Maybe he wants to be an actor when he grows up and is taking notes.”

  Grant nodded a little. Then said like he was presenting a huge gift, “Tell him that if he wants, he can interview me.”

  “I’ll let him know. I’m sure he’ll be very grateful.”

  Grant smiled. “You’re welcome.”

  Even though I knew he’d been at the studio today, I was still surprised at how happy I was to see Donavan sitting in my trailer when I walked in. “I wasn’t sure if you were coming today,” I said, walking to the mirror and immediately getting to work removing my makeup.

  “I thought I could help.”

  “With what?”

  “With trying to figure out who’s behind all the sabotage.”

  A feeling of gratitude warmed my chest. He was the first person who wasn’t trying to downplay my feelings. “Thank you.” I cleared my throat and nodded toward his notebook. “So what did you learn?”

  “Did you know that Simone, your new makeup person, is married to Noah?”

  “The assistant director?”

  “Yes.”

  “I didn’t. So what does that mean in all this?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just making notes on people. We’ll figure out motives later.”

  I was so happy he was helping me that I couldn’t hide the smile that had taken over my face. “Okay.” I dropped the last piece of latex onto the counter, grabbed a makeup wipe, and joined him on the couch. “Speaking of makeup people, my old one, Leah, had something going on with my director, Remy.”

  He scribbled that down in his book.

  And I added quietly, “And now she’s dating my dad.”

  “She is?”

  I nodded.

  “Does that bother you?”

  “A little, but I was just thinking it m
ight be a clue.”

  “You think Remy is sabotaging his own movie?”

  I groaned. “No. I don’t. I don’t know; I’m grasping here.”

  “I get it.”

  I scooted closer to Donavan, putting my elbow on the back of the couch, so I could read over his shoulder. I saw the name Peter right below Simone’s. “Grant’s agent? You talked to him?”

  “Yes.”

  I waved my makeup wipe several times over his name. “He’s evil. Doesn’t he just give off an evil, self-righteous vibe?”

  Donavan moved his hand in the “so-so” way.

  “Really? Just meh about him?” I finished wiping off the rest of my face and threw the wipe toward the trash in the corner. It missed. “Why don’t you have any notes next to him?”

  “Because he didn’t say much.”

  “What’s your spiel anyway?”

  “My spiel?”

  “You’re walking around with a notebook, saying, what? ‘Hey, I’m Donavan, tell me your life story and how that might relate to screwing over my friend.’”

  “You know, that was my backup line. I decided to go with the more boring, ‘Hi, I’m doing a class project about moviemaking.’”

  “Probably a good call. So they don’t find it weird when you then ask personal questions, like their marital status?”

  “I don’t ask personal questions. They usually end up divulging personal stuff when I ask work-related questions. Like if I ask, are the long hours hard on family life? They either say, oh, I’m not married or no, not really, my wife works here too, so it’s not a strain.”

  “That’s what Noah said?”

  “Exactly.”

  “I’m surprised he talked to you at all. Not sure if this is motive or helpful, but I think Noah hates me. I’ve always felt an impatient negative vibe from him.”

  “I felt like he hated me too, so maybe it’s just his default.” He glanced over at me, and I realized how close we were, his face inches from mine. I didn’t move away, just met his eyes. He didn’t move away either. It would be wrong of me to close the space. To kiss him right now. So wrong. I was giving him up because I cared more about my career. I was selfish.