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Love Unscripted

Page 54

by Reber, Tina


  Ryan cleared his throat nervously and then acknowledged my secret gesture. “By all means.” He motioned with his hand for me to continue.

  I looked back at Jonathan pretending to fondly remember my tall tale.

  “It was just at the point when Grant admitted to Giles that he was a thief and an accidental murderer when Ryan and I had our first heated film debate.” I smiled at Ryan. I could clearly see in the way he narrowed his eyes at me that he was dying to know where I was going with this.

  “Ryan was of the opinion that Grant’s revelation would be deemed as the ultimate betrayal to his brother and that in the end brother would turn on brother. But I disagreed. There was just something in the way Giles was so meticulous in his personal habits as a child that I just knew that the two brothers would unite in the end.

  “By the way, Mr. Christensen, I do believe you still owe me a bottle of wine for losing that bet!” I teased.

  “I believe I owe you an entire vineyard by now, Sweetheart.” I felt Ryan’s hand slide onto mine.

  “You must be very intuitive to have guessed the outcome. Bravo!” Jonathan complimented, pausing to take another sip of his bourbon. “So tell me, what does your intuition tell you about Slipknot? Ryan told me you’ve been running lines with him so I assume you’ve read the script in its entirety?”

  I took a deep breath. “Yes sir… many times,” I whispered.

  “Well then? What does your intuition tell you?”

  “It has action and suspense along with a healthy dose of romance. Isn’t that a film trifecta?” I stated the obvious.

  Jonathan shifted in his seat. “Do you feel the story is Oscar worthy?” he asked, eagerly awaiting my reply.

  “She isn’t qualified to answer that question, John,” Aaron callously interrupted.

  “He is right. I can’t answer that,” I admitted adamantly.

  Jonathan raised a hand to stop us both. “My question has nothing to do with qualifications,” he dismissed. “I want to know your gut feeling.”

  “John! Really! We know it’s going to be phenomenal!” David looked around at everyone, laughing confidently. “Why wouldn’t it get an Oscar nomination. I mean…”

  “Now David, let the lady speak!” Jonathan ordered. “Taryn? Please, go on.”

  “Honestly? For best picture?” I hesitated and took a big gulp of wine from my glass. I could feel Aaron mentally yelling at me to shut up and David appeared ready to vault over the table to cap my mouth, but I was asked a direct question.

  I thought about all the research I did on the Oscars when I wondered what kind of role Ryan could play to garner a Best Actor in a Leading Role nod and recalled that all best pictures seemed to have one thing in common.

  “I don’t think so, sir. Will the film gross millions? Absolutely - especially with a strong lead actor like Ryan. And with your brilliance and vision it will definitely be a hit. But I think the script as it stands is missing that epic overtone that is required of best picture awards. The story is compelling, but the main character is a mystery solver – not a hero.”

  Aaron tossed his fork onto his plate, noting his disapproval. I held my eyes closed for a few seconds and internally bashed myself for opening up my big lipstick-covered mouth. Maybe arm-candy, dumb bimbo would have been a safer approach after all?

  Jonathan leaned over and spoke directly to Ryan. “Where did you say you found this amazing woman again?”

  “On the East Coast.” Ryan chuckled. “Why? You planning to steal her from me?”

  “Perhaps, if you’re not careful! I can’t tell you how refreshing it is to have honest conversation with someone!” Jonathan smiled and patted my hand. “That’s a quality that this business is seriously lacking.”

  His warm eyes glinted at me. “Relax, my dear. I had the same exact feelings about the script. I’ve already discussed some re-writes.” Jonathan continued, chuckling to himself. “Now onto the business at hand. Let’s discuss making a film.”

  I slid back into my chair while my nerves twisted into knots. The urge to get on a plane and run for home was overwhelming.

  Once the limo driver returned us to the private garage entrance to our hotel, Ryan and I practically ran from the elevator to our room. He pressed me into the door and kissed me passionately, shutting the rest of the crazy world out behind us.

  Just as Ryan had forewarned, he almost tore my dress off, struggling impatiently with the zipper. We aggressively removed each other’s clothing, undressing right there in the entryway of our suite like some sex-starved, horny teenagers. Our bodies joined together, testing out the sturdiness of the living room furniture, the coffee table, and even the polished mahogany dining table before twining into one on the freshly made canopy bed.

  The next morning we barely had time to swallow our room service breakfast before having to be on the move again. I thought we were going to be able to spend some time together alone, but that was an unfulfilled wish.

  Riding in the back seat of another chauffeured sedan, we passed the famous Hollywood sign on the hillside as we drove to the studio where Ryan was to attend a magazine photo shoot.

  David, Ryan’s manager, was forever twisting his expensive watch on his wrist. “Did you read those scripts that Aaron sent you?”

  “Yeah, I did,” Ryan answered, scanning his cell phone messages again.

  “Sacred Mountain, Ryan. That’s your next big hit.”

  “I’m not interested in sci-fi right now, David. I told you that I want to pursue The Isletin Solution. You and Aaron are supposed to be working on that.”

  David’s lips pursed. “I don’t know why you have that script stuck in your head. People are not going to line up at the theaters to see Ryan Christensen playing some med student from the 1940’s who does medical trials on dogs.”

  “It was the 1920’s – 1921 to be exact,” I interjected.

  David shot me a dirty look. “What did you say?” he asked, annoyed by my interruption.

  “It happened in 1921. You said the 1940s,” my subconscious big mouth replied.

  “Whatever. It doesn’t matter,” he said tersely, quickly turning his attention back to Ryan. “You’ll be better off doing Sacred Mountain. You need another project lined up, and this one is a big budget – big action with a big studio to back it – not to mention a big paycheck for you!”

  Ryan looked over at me, trying to gauge my opinion before he gave his response. I scratched my chin repeatedly.

  “A sci-fi film, David? Really?” Ryan’s nose wrinkled.

  “Yes, Ryan. Really! You need to line up a project after the third Seaside and this one is it. I’m telling you - this one is all yours! Aaron and I already spoke to Stevens at Universal. All you have to do is say yes and we can seal this deal. But the time is now, Ryan. He wants you to lock in, so let’s lock it in!” David’s enthusiasm was apparent.

  “I don’t know. I’ve read the script and the story is weak. I’d rather do films that are more meaningful and memorable – character driven. Are people going to run to the theaters to see me frolic around with little gray aliens? I don’t think so. I’ll quit acting before I do shitty films. Besides, Taryn read Isletin and she feels it would be a better role for me.”

  I gasped from the surprise. Why did Ryan have to mention my name? He said it so nonchalantly and then simply returned to being distracted with his phone. David instantly glared at me and I could feel his disdain. I wanted to defend myself but I kept my mouth shut instead this time. This was between Ryan and his manager.

  “Isletin is a sleeper,” David groaned. “It’s career suicide.” He made sure to look directly at me when he said that. “You need big action now. You have to keep this energy rolling!”

  “I’m already signed on for three films next year. Besides, I want to try and have a life somehow in between it all.” Ryan picked up my hand and wove our fingers together. David’s disapproving eyes stealthily followed Ryan’s gesture.

  “Ryan, let me give
you some advice. You haven’t been in the business long enough to pass up opportunities like this. And forget about slowing down. You slow down now and your career is over in this town. Sacred Mountain is a money project and the producer is even willing to wait until you’re done shooting the third Seaside. You need to jump on this project and forget about the script that has no backing.”

  Ryan took a deep breath; his indecision was starting to show. I squeezed his hand in mine to get his attention. When he glanced over at me I rubbed my forehead and then scratched my chin. He would not make his mark as a serious dramatic actor with a storyline like Sacred Mountain. It was beyond cheesy.

  “Let me think about it,” Ryan replied. “I want to talk it over with Taryn.”

  Marla, his Publicist, was already at the studio waiting when we arrived. Ryan was scheduled to give a brief interview after the photo shoot; Marla was there to mind his tongue and make sure his image was captured correctly.

  I was under the impression that this shoot was just a magazine spread and an interview of Ryan, however that assumption was quickly bashed when I saw Suzanne in the makeup chair. For the next seven hours I watched Ryan and Suzanne make numerous wardrobe changes as they posed together over and over again.

  Suzanne, of course, played up her most fortunate position. She was relishing in the fact that it was she in these photos with Ryan and not me. In between shots, a team of makeup artists tended to her and made her smoky eyes even more alluring.

  I was able to take a few relaxing breaths when Ryan posed alone. He looked uncomfortable from time to time, cracking jokes and occasionally making funny faces to help pass the time.

  I remembered the last time I had my picture taken professionally; it was when I graduated from Brown. It was one of my memories that I tried to suppress in the darkest corners of my brain.

  I winced, recalling that fateful day when I was waiting for my mother to come home from grocery shopping so we could go pick up my photos from the photographer. That was the day she died. If only I had gone shopping with her instead of giving her a hard time, I could have prevented it.

  “Are you okay?” Ryan asked during a break.

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “Just deep in thought.”

  “David wants an answer.” He looked unsure.

  “What are you going to tell him?”

  “What should I tell him?” he countered.

  “It’s your decision, Honey. I’ll support any choice you make.”

  He gave me a disgusted look. “I want your opinion!”

  I took a deep breath. “Ryan, all of your idols have done a wide variety of films. Some were memorable, some were a paycheck, and some were a disaster. But you said it yourself… it’s those decisions that could make or break a career.

  “You have three projects coming up, all films destined to be box office hits, but they could be your stepping stones to even greater things. You know as well as I do that you are in a unique position to really direct your career. But you choose! Don’t let them choose it for you.

  “You’re signed on for Thousand Miles with Slipknot scheduled right after that. Then you have the press tour, junkets, and premiers for Reparation in the beginning of April and Seaside Two in July. Rehearsals for the third Seaside start in September. You have nothing on the docket after that, and if Universal is willing to wait…”

  Ryan nodded.

  “But Honey, it’s not a matter of schedule and whether you’re available or not. Is Sacred Mountain the type of film you want to be associated to? My opinion is that it’s not a story line that will make you shine and stand out as a powerful leading man. I mean, would Leonardo DeCaprio do it?”

  Ryan shook his head quickly. “I don’t think so.”

  “Well then? You and UFOs will make money. You and UFOs will not garner awards or make you a well-respected, well-rounded actor. Dreams only come true if you point yourself in their direction.”

  I watched his expression change when he comprehended.

  I was surprised that his manager and his agent were pushing the sci-fi movie on him. Ryan had never taken a role like that before, and although I could see the importance of showing his acting range by portraying different characters, the lead in Sacred Mountain seemed to be a huge deviation from what he had been doing.

  While we dressed in our evening wear for the wrap party, I couldn’t help but bring the subject up again. Ryan was very open to discussing the pros and cons of the role. I wanted to make sure that the decision he made was well thought out and that my influence didn’t hinder him from accepting a worthwhile role.

  “Wait to be escorted,” Marla informed Ryan when we pulled up to the grand hotel where the Seaside wrap party would be taking place. Her authoritative tone snapped me out of my private thoughts.

  “I know,” Ryan mumbled, clearly knowing what was expected of him.

  Marla edged her body closer to Ryan so she would be able to exit the car right behind him. Ryan’s door opened and several formidable security men surrounded him immediately. Four men quickly escorted him across the street where the paparazzi and hundreds of fans were waiting.

  The camera lights and photoflashes lit up the nighttime sky. I sat there completely helpless, watching Ryan become blinded as the volume of excited screams became deafening.

  I slid across the leather seat to exit the car at the curb but Marla was blocking my way. Once Ryan was safely across the street I was allowed to get out of the car. “This way Miss,” some man in a suit ordered.

  I was removed from the car and was allowed to watch the mayhem unfold across the street from a discrete spot near the hotel entrance. People were screaming and shouting at Ryan for his autograph and for pictures. “Ryan, Ryan, over here, Ryan,” the crowd screamed for him over and over again. Hundreds of cameras flashed like strobe lights in his eyes while he willingly subjected himself to the call of fame. He signed autograph after autograph and posed with every person who had a camera.

  Marla and David, his “handlers,” hovered dutifully behind Ryan while he played his part. I wanted so badly to run across the street and drag him away from all of that insanity. He was a person, but he was treated like public property. Everyone wanted a piece of him and I doubted there were enough pieces of him left to go around.

  After almost ten minutes, Ryan was finally escorted back across the street by his security team. He was immediately ushered to a carpeted area where the press was waiting.

  Ryan wasn’t alone on the carpet; several of his cast mates were also giving interviews. Ben and Cal both tapped Ryan in the arm when he passed by. I stood off to the side while Ryan posed and spoke to reporters; he appeared to be in his uncomfortable business mode again. I didn’t know whether to be proud or concerned for him.

  “You look gorgeous!” Kelly whispered in my ear. I turned around to see her standing behind me.

  “Oh, Kelly!” I hugged her, relieved that I wasn’t standing alone anymore. “You look fabulous too!”

  Suzanne’s limo pulled up to the curb and she was immediately escorted to the carpet where Ryan and the guys were standing. She didn’t hesitate stepping over to Ryan’s side.

  “I’ll see you inside.” Kelly patted my arm as Cal whisked her away. I watched as they both posed as a couple for the paparazzi.

  I stood there by myself again, placed off to the side and out of the way by one of Ryan’s handlers. They had me hiding inconspicuously next to some topiary in the dark, where I could feel like an idiot privately in my three thousand-dollar outfit. I definitely felt out of place.

  “Good evening, Taryn,” David greeted me in the shadows.

  I was momentarily stunned by his sudden friendliness. He was a lot more standoffish towards me yesterday. His wandering eyes glanced over my body and his creepy demeanor sent a twinge of revulsion through me.

  “Good evening, David,” I said politely, even though his eyes were stuck at viewing my cleavage.

  “So… you’re the one giving Ryan bad career ad
vice,” David surmised, laughing every so slightly. “I was wondering who was filling his head with nonsense. Now I know.”

  I glared at him; his moment of niceties was blatantly over.

  “Well, we obviously have a difference of opinion of what’s considered bad career advice, David.”

  “You could say that again!” he said arrogantly. “And you certainly are imposing your opinions freely on him.”

  Great, another confrontation. Apparently he was still bitter that I infringed on his territory.

  “He and I talked about the scripts, that’s all. Ryan is a grown man. He makes his own career decisions,” I retorted. I was watching Ryan from a distance while he spoke to a reporter.

  “He used to make his own decisions, but that doesn't seem to be the case lately,” David stated curtly. “Oh, by the way, that was a real risky move you made at dinner the other night - speaking to Follweiler like that! Perhaps you should consider leaving the career management activities to those of us whose job it is to do so. Okay, sweetheart? Your job is to just look pretty on his arm.”

  What nerve this jerk had! I didn't know if I wanted to slap him in the face or knee him in the crotch. Instead, words flew out of my mouth.

  “You know, David, you are so far away from having a clue that I’m surprised there’s even air for you to breath there. You did nothing to prep Ryan for that meeting and then you left him hang out to dry when Jonathan asked him about seeing his film!

  “The way I see it, I kept that meeting going and saved Ryan from being embarrassed and humiliated. So instead of bashing me, perhaps you should consider thanking me.”

  I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Ryan was walking towards us.

  “We can go in now, Honey. I’m done out here.” Ryan took me by the waist.

  “David, I’ve made my final decision. No aliens,” Ryan said firmly. “I’ve read both scripts and I agree with Taryn. She’s got great instincts and she feels Isletin is going to be a hit and a high point in my career. I agree with her. You’re my manager. I want you to push Aaron for the sleeper.”

 

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