by Mia Mills
The common room has a rich, velvety corner sofa, I decide to take my seat there while I wait for them. From there, I can hear the distinct sound of a television and assume that Evan is drying his hair while catching up with celebrity gossip. And since Cole’s room is awfully quiet, I know he’s torn between his clothes and can’t decide what to wear for the outdoors. Yesterday he had worn a regular shirt and jeans, I couldn’t help but think of what type of swimwear he preferred.
The ringing of my cell phone brings my thoughts to an abrupt stop, I pull open the string bag and take my phone out when my hands finally take hold of it. The call is from an unknown number, but it doesn’t bother me because some of the film crew don’t have my contact information yet and maybe they just want to confirm something for the movie. I accept the call.
“Yes? This is Willow, is this about the movie?” I say and just hope I didn’t sound too eager.
I wait for an answer but is only met by heavy breathing on the other line, the longer I wait, the more scared I get.
“Hello?” I gather up the courage to talk again, “Who’s there?”
“You’re lucky, you bitch.”
When my mind finally registers who the voice belongs to, I almost drop the phone, my hand begins to tremble and I try to stop my voice from shaking in anger when I speak again, “What the fuck do you want, Marco?”
“Oh dahlin’, I want to ruin your life. But that’s not what this call is about.” I can hear him slur just a bit by the very end. He’s drunk, but sober enough to know what he’s doing.
“I don’t want to hear what this is about. Leave me alone!” I glance toward Evan’s and Cole’s rooms and lower my voice, “Leave me alone.”
“Dahlin’, trust me. You’re gonna want to hear what I have to say. After all, it involves those twins you love so much.” He cackles, “If you’d told me you’d fuck me if I gave you an audition I would ‘a swung so many audition forms at you.”
My stomach sinks and I start to feel sick as I hear his words, but I’m afraid that he might target the two if I hang up on him, for now I think it’s better to waste his time until I can decide what to do. I take a deep breath and try to focus, “What is it?”
He cackles again, “Your boys paid me, dahlin’. They probably paid me more than your little movie’s going to earn.”
My heart begins to pound, “Paid you for what?”
“To leave you alooone! They said that they didn’t want me anywhere near you. Probably wants you all for themselves, if you ask me.” He laughs, louder this time, “Now, the money isn’t bad, dahlin’, and since you’ve indirectly given me such a big amount of cash, I thought it would only be right to tell you the truth.”
“Shut up. What do you know? You’ve only sabotaged me. Ruined me.” My hand trembles as I try to stop myself from yelling at him.
“The truth is, little Missouri lamb, that you don’t have talent. And you’re not fooling anyone. The twins know it and—”
“No. Shut up.” My lips start to quiver, memories of the paparazzi from the television and how they mocked me flood my head. Just when I thought those memories wouldn’t plague me anymore, they come right back up.
“—they paid me so I would keep quiet about it and not release your audition tapes. So—”
“Shut up!”
“—that you don’t go back to Missouri and they don’t lose their sex toy.”
“That...that’s not true.” I shake my head and the tears in my eyes start to fall. It’s not that what he said was painful, but if the twins have been lying, then that means I’ve been made a fool. I cover my mouth and stifle my sobs so he doesn’t hear me.
“They know you suck at acting, Willow. But you don’t suck at sucking people off. And you have a pretty face. That’s why they’re keeping you. That’s why they don’t want the world to see your shitty audition tapes filled with your shitty E-class acting. That’s why you guys fuck all the time. When a newer, more beautiful face comes along, I’m sure you’ll be thrown out. And then you’ll wish you never left your little Missouri dollhouse. They don’t believe in you, they never did.”
“Shut the fuck up!” I end the call and contemplate throwing my phone, but instead I put it back in the string bag. I’m angry. I’m angry at myself for believing the twins and believing I can make something out of myself in the industry. I don’t want to believe him but I can’t deny that at the back of my head I’m starting to think that Marco’s telling me the truth. If he is, the whole time I’ve spent with the twins would just be a lie. More tears fall from my eyes and onto my legs as I hunch over and try to calm myself.
I’m too immersed in my own thoughts and fears that I don’t hear Evan and Cole when they leave their rooms.
The feeling of warmth from Cole’s hand on my shoulder jolts me back into reality and I recoil from his touch. He pulls his hand back and is both of them are visibly concerned and confused. I choke back my words before they get out and try to make myself level-headed before I say something bad.
Evan crouches to see me better, his brows are furrowed and I can’t handle the worry in his blue eyes. Marco’s words echo in my head and it takes a while for me to realize Evan is talking to me.
“—kay? Did something happen?” He reaches for my hand but hesitates and rests his hand on the space beside me instead.
“Marco...” I finally manage to find my voice again.
I can see Cole clench his fists, “The photographer? Did he come here and threaten you again? I swear if I—”
“He called me.” I close my eyes and hold my head in my hands.
“What? What did he say now? What did he want?” I feel the weight shift on the couch as Cole takes a seat beside me.
When I open my eyes, I can see that Evan’s jaw has tensed. Cole puts one hand on my back and I flinch.
“Willow. What did he say?”
I stand up and take a few steps away from them, then I turn to look at them, “You paid him. That’s what he said.”
The twins exchange glances and Evan is the first to speak, “Yeah. We did. But we thought—”
“Listen, Willow, what did he say to you?” Cole takes a step forward and I back away more.
“What does it matter what he said? What do you think he’ll tell me? Does he know something I don’t?” I’m on the verge of screaming, my temples burn, but I try to stop my voice from going higher.
“Willow, you have to tell us what he told you.” Cole looks desperate, it only feeds my doubts.
Evan nods in agreement and looks almost as desperate as his brother, “Please, Willow.”
“Why does it matter?!” My eyes cloud from tears, I let my voice free, “Tell me! What does he know?!”
“Nothing! He knows knowing, Willow!” Cole screams back, but not from anger, I can see from his eyes that he’s frustrated. Evan puts a hand on Cole’s shoulder.
“Lies! All this time!”
This time it’s Evan who tries to reason with me, “Willow, we did what we thought was right. We didn’t do anything wrong!” When I look at him, it takes real effort not to slap him across his face, I feel like my blood is boiling under my skin.
“You were wrong! I didn’t want your help! I can’t believe I trusted you. I can’t believe you guys made me hope I could be something!” I tighten my grip on the string bag and walk back into my room.
“Willow, please let us explain. Tell us what he told you so we understand.” Cole tries to catch up to me but I slam the door shut and lock it.
I lean against the door and take deep breaths before answering, “You paid him so he wouldn’t release my audition tapes.”
For a moment, there was nothing from the other side of the door, then I hear one of them sigh.
“Willow.” I can tell that it’s Evan, Cole is probably trying to phone someone.
“Tell me the truth. Did you pay him to avoid having my audition tapes released?” I grit my teeth.
After a few seconds, Evan answers, “Yes
. We did. Cole met with Marco and paid him to stop harassing you. But we only did it for your sake.”
My heart sinks at the thought of them paying Marco just to keep my audition tapes from being released and as if by cue, my head drowns in thoughts of how Marco could have been telling me the truth. How he knew there was no hope for me so he treated me as he saw fit.
I don’t bother to open the door or answer Evan or Cole when they knock. Instead, I pack my things and wear leggings, then I grab a cap and a pair of shades before heading out. When I open the door only Evan is there, sitting near the doorway.
“Willow, thank God you opened the door. I—” He stops talking when he sees my stuff.
I wear the cap and the shades, making my way past him and going outside. I ignore any kind of request Evan has for a conversation and keep walking as fast as I can. When I get to the elevator, Evan had brought Cole along to try and persuade me to stay.
“Willow, please. I understand if you don’t want to talk for now, but at least wait for us to pack. We’ll go back with you.” Cole tries to get a hold of my suitcase but I pull it away from his reach.
I shake my head and bite my lower lip, “I’m leaving.”
Evan takes a step forward when the elevator doors open, I can see that he wants to stop me from going in, but I carry my suitcase and get in without saying anything.
He shakes his head and puts a hand on one side of the elevator, keeping it open, “Please. All we did was pay him to stop doing all the crap he’s been pulling on you.”
I look him in the eyes, “How much did you pay for him to not release those tapes?”
“That’s not fair.” Cole speaks up from behind Evan.
Evan snaps, “Just tell her!”
Cole pinches the bridge of his nose, “If it’s too little it’ll look like she doesn’t matter, but if it’s too big it’ll look like those tapes were that bad. Like we had something to hide. It’s not fair.”
“Just tell her!” Evan slams his hand on the side of the elevator door he had it on.
“I can’t just tell her! Not like this!” Cole looks from his brother to me, his gaze softens as our eyes meet.
My lips tremble as I speak, “Please.”
Cole lets out a deep breath and scratches the back of his head with both hands in exasperation before pulling himself together and standing straight again, “Willow...I...”
“Just tell me, Cole.” My voice cracks when I say his name and I see that it tips his breaking point.
There was a moment of silence, and then he replies, his voice weak, “Two hundred thousand.”
I laugh weakly and look to the side, tears streaming down my red cheeks. When I look back at them, I lick my lips and wipe my tears with my arm.
“Goodbye...Cole, Evan.”
Evan closes his eyes and lets his arm fall to his side, the elevator doors come to a close and I take as much as I can of how the twins look. A part of me feels bad because they look so devastated, but I can’t begin to unravel how much pain I’m feeling. And I know that I won’t be able to think straight if I’m in the same room as them. Not even if I’m on the same island.
I bolt out of the elevators when I get to the ground floor. After surrendering my key card to the receptionist, I make my way out to the cab area and get inside the first one I see. The cab driver is oblivious to the fact that I’ve been crying because of the shades, he probably thinks I just have a cold.
“To the Grand Bahama International Airport please.”
The cab driver gives me a thumbs up and drives off, “Heading home?”
I give him a weak smile and nod, “Going back to LA.”
“Ohh! The City of Angels! LA!” He laughs.
I nod again, my smile fading into a frown as I look out the window, “Yep. The City of Angels.”
Cole
For the seventh consecutive time, I check my phone to see if Willow’s left any messages and I am disappointed when there are only messages about updates on how the film promotions are going. I swirl the glass of whiskey in my hand as I try to think up a way to get her to talk to me or Evan.
My office is a large room with light wooden panels, behind me are several drawers filled with files, the walls they lean against are actually giant screens that can have been digitally enhanced to show whatever scenery I have set up on the remote.
Around the room there are plenty of bookshelves filled with different novels, short stories, screenplays and manuscripts. Some have film theories and color theories. All have been crucial to the films I’ve helped produce.
People think all we do is point a camera at a scene and give some actors random lines. What they don’t know is how much energy is put into a single second of cinema. One angle can mean a whole lot if you know what you’re doing with it. They also don’t know how much trust has to be built between the staff that produces and the actors involved, which is why some studios and directors keep working with one or two actors even after several blockbusters. They know it works.
That’s why Evan and I work together, not only because we’re twins but because the vibe he creates for a film works with what vibe we want to have our film express.
And it took a long time before we could find someone who could compete with Evan’s own charm, but we found her. Willow Anderson, the runaway beauty from Missouri. Who could have known that the person we’ve been looking for to complete the feel of the films we make would casually stumble into our set because of a flyer someone put up in a diner?
And now we might just lose her. I’d be damned if I’m just going to let her go.
It’s been a week since the trip to the Bahamas, a week since Willow left the suite we were staying in. But I can still hear the way her voice cracked when she said my name and I can still see how terribly hurt she looked. Whatever that photographer told her shook her core. For someone as strong as Willow to suddenly break down like that, he must have told her a heavy lie. I just can’t fathom what it could have been.
I take a sip of the whiskey, feeling the heat settle in my chest. So far, whiskey has helped me get back on focus, but I know if I take more I’ll only act irrationally. I’m trying to understand where I went wrong. What I said wrong. Or what I could have said that could have made things better instead of worse. But dwelling on the past is as useless as is it is depressing. Instead I should be thinking of what to do now. The present is more important, with the movie’s premiere being set-up, it only means Evan and I have less time to figure things out with Willow before things become irreparable.
She deserves the truth. The whole truth. Not whatever lies Marco might have told her. And I wish I could tell her. It’s not like I haven’t tried. I’ve left messages on her answering machine and tried calling her so many times only to get nothing in return. I haven’t heard anything from her.
Suddenly, my telephone rings, it’s my secretary. I accept the call.
“What? I thought I said no appointments for a while.” I take another sip of the whiskey.
“Sorry Sir, but it’s your brother. He’s here and he says he has to talk to you.”
I can hear Evan’s voice in the background but I can’t hear what he’s saying. I sigh, “Let him in.”
“Of course.” He hangs up.
The door swings open and Evan strides in, he’s wearing a white shirt under his denim coat and ankle-length grey pants. He has his hair in a mess which means that he spent little to no time tending to it, it’s very unlike him to leave the house without bothering with his hair.
Evan heads straight for the sleek gray sofa that’s close to the door and crosses his legs, “Alright. I know that this is a tough time, but listen—”
“Shut the door.” I nod my head towards the door he left open.
He gets up and closes the door then looks at me, “Happy?” He says, mocking me by making jazz hands, “Now come over here, we have to talk.”
I put my whiskey down and stand up, I walk over to where he is with my hands in my po
ckets. Evan gestures to the other sofa and I can tell he’s not going to start talking until I take a seat.
After I’m seated, he begins again, “Okay, again, I know this is a tough time. You’re probably getting drunk in this office and not doing any work, which, by the way, if you are...and I know you are because I saw that glass of whiskey, I just gotta say...good on you. You work too much, you’re starting to look old.”
I roll my eyes at his unnecessary comments, “Get to the point, Evan.”
“Right. The point. Willow. We have to get her to talk to us. This is a mess.” His eyes are wide and he’s speaking too fast, I feel like I’m about to have a headache.
“Jesus, Evan. Is that all? I know that already. If that’s all you needed to say you could have just called.” I rub my forehead with my right hand.
“No. No, that’s not all. Listen, I have an idea.” He leans forward, “It’s not much, but if I’m right, and I know I’m gonna be, Willow won’t be mad anymore. It’ll all be okay.”
I’m still not convinced and my expression knows it, I know he can tell, “How are you so sure? We don’t even know why she’s mad. She hasn’t been returning calls, I’ve tried leaving messages on her answering machine and I’ve tried to go to her apartment. Nothing works.”
“Cole. You’re being so cynical, as always. But listen to me. Stop calling her and begging her, if she doesn’t answer the first few days, the rest of the time she’s just going to be annoyed. It won’t work. You just look desperate.”
“I am desperate! This isn’t a game, Evan! If the studio loses her, if we lose her, if she doesn’t come back—”
“Listen to me! Stop thinking about ifs. She knows you’re desperate. She probably knows we were desperate even back at the hotel. But the truth is whatever that guy told her broke the trust she had with us.” He puts a hand on the coffee table, “Just listen to me.”
I take a deep breath and nod, “Alright. I’m listening.”
“We don’t know what he told her. And while that makes things difficult, we can think back on what happened at the hotel. At some point while we were talking to her, she flipped out. I don’t know why it set her off. But obviously it has something to do with the audition tapes.” He licks his lips, “The last question she asked was how much we paid the guy to stop harassing her, but what if she thought we were just paying him for the tapes?”
