Someone I Used to Know

by Blakney Francis

  “What?!” I was wearing my pajamas! My coworkers would never take me seriously. It was already bad enough that I was there. They probably thought I was some gold digger, trying to jump on their gravy train. Oh God, there were ducks on my shorts!

  “Sorry, Addy.” Again with the nicknames when he wanted something. “We’ve been shooting a week, and it has been a freaking disaster. Today we found out that we can’t get a permit for one of our on-location shoots, and now I have to meet with the other writers to discuss a rewrite. It’ll take an hour at the most. I just have to get the list of other plausible options for the new locale.”

  Whatever nostalgic cloud of warm fuzzies that had enveloped us in the newness of reuniting began to dissipate, and I was reintroduced to one of my least favorite qualities of Cam’s. He had no problem springing things on me last minute, knowing the later he waited to tell me, the less time he’d have to hear me complain. Knowing him so well, I understood his logic, but that didn’t mean I had to be okay with it. As unhappy as I was, there was nothing I really could do about it, and as much as I hated to admit it, his procrastination paid off.

  I decided to make the most out of those few minutes of anger anyways, shooting him vicious glares as I punished him with silence.

  The quiet would be what affected him the most. He hated silence. Cam liked to fill every moment with words. Sometimes, when I’d really, really decided that I hated him, I used to accuse him of being in love with his own voice, but at the end of the day (and when I cooled off a little) I understood it wasn’t just his words that he liked to hear. He loved to listen as well. It was one of the things I’d admired most.

  By the time we arrived at the fenced in grouping of buildings where the studios logo was scrawled in giant crimson letters, I’d forgotten the reason for my silence, sitting back to take it all in.

  I don’t know what I expected of a movie set, except for maybe that it would be a little more glamorous somehow. Flashing identification to the mountain of a man at the guard stand, entering through the back lot, and proceeding through another round of security – it was all just a little too procedural for my imagination. Besides the cameras, sets, and crafts table, it was just like any other work place. People were doing their jobs and minding their own business. No one was even particularly attractive.

  I stopped in my tracks, leaving Cam to stride on without me. Realizing my absence when I didn’t laugh at one of his snarky comments, he backtracked to my side.

  “I recognize that guy,” I explained my blatant stare. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the real reason the man sitting in a director’s chair across the room had caught my attention.

  He was beautiful – uncommonly so – with dark brown hair and cheekbones that were every plastic surgeon’s dream. A woman fluttered about his hair, artfully crafting it into a messy masterpiece. He smiled genuinely at something she said. Even from where we were standing, I could make out the famous birthmark that decorated his jaw – small and inconspicuous – but somehow undeniably sexy.

  Cam chuckled at my reaction. I hadn’t fooled him.

  “I would hope so. The studio’s banking on him to bring in the big bucks from the ladies… Australian heartthrob and Indie movie extraordinaire, Declan Davies.”

  “And he’s playing…?” I inquired, trying to assimilate myself with his handsome features.

  Cam coughed and looked decidedly uncomfortable.

  “You?” I burst out laughing. Cam was good looking on his own merit, but Declan Davies was in a league of his own, not to mention they really didn’t look a thing alike. Where Cam was honey, Declan was chocolate. “That’s a little egotistical don’t you think, Cam?”

  “He’s not playing me. He’s playing a character in a movie.” His lips stuck together in a sour expression, and I felt a smidgen of guilt. Well, I did until he grabbed my arm and started dragging me towards Declan Davies with a sly grin on his face. “You should meet him actually. That’s kind of the whole reason you’re here.”

  My entire body went clammy, and my feet felt heavy as I walked the slowest possible pace without looking like Cam was attempting to kidnap me.

  I’d never really been into pop culture. In high school I’d always been too busy with ballet, and then, after The Girl in the Yellow Dress was released, it became impossible to escape its constant presence in the media, so I’d just avoided it altogether. I told myself that I wasn’t star struck by Declan Davies. I couldn’t possibly be one of those teeny boppers, screeching at the top of their lungs for some guy they’d never met. I just wasn’t expecting to be so…physically attracted to him.

  He saw us coming, and stood to his full stance, even taller than Cam’s 6 feet, watching our approach with a calculating eye. The hairstylist disappeared, and it was just the three of us.

  “Hey, mate.” His accent was sweet and pleasing to the ear. The boys shook hands and clasped each other on the back in the manly way that boys do, while I shifted my weight from foot to foot nervously. “Wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

  “Rewrites,” Cam said with a shrug before yanking me forward to stand toe-to-toe with the Australian god. “I thought you might like to meet Adley Adair… She was just telling me what a big fan she is.”

  I stumbled over my feet before I managed to right myself, and let’s just say that if looks could kill, Cam would be dead and resurrected for the sole purpose of me killing him again.

  Famous gray eyes poured critically from my messy hair all the way down to settle on my wrinkled rubber ducky shorts.

  “You’re not nearly what I was expecting,” he observed unsmiling.

  I imagined I was quite different than the Adley Adair painted in The Girl in the Yellow Dress. That Adley had been pristinely kept with sharp, blonde hair, highlighted to perfection and cut into a fashionable style that sat – never a hair out of place – above her shoulders. She’d had the body of a ballerina, like a willow tree; lithe, elegant, thin.

  I was the Adley Adair of after. My hair had grown into its natural shade of dark blonde, and it reached far down my back in unkempt waves. The only time it got a cut was when I had enough time to drop by UNC’s beautician school for a free one, and it hadn’t seen color since I’d left my family and money back in California.

  “Funny. You’re even more charming than I was expecting.” I tried to bite back the snarky comment, but it was too late, leaving me with no choice but to own it proudly with my chin held high.

  I glared at Cam as he stomped on my foot, all the while trying to cover up his own snort of laughter. Cam had no one to blame but himself for my rudeness. I was jetlagged and unprepared for interactions with celebrities.

  “A sarcastic American…how original,” he replied with a fair amount of his own Australian sarcasm. A smirk flirted with his full lips. There was no mistaking it as friendly. As charismatic as Declan Davies came across on the big screen, it was clear that he was a hell of better actor than I’d ever given him credit for.

  “Wow, and that’s coming from an arrogant actor.” Heat rushed into my cheeks, but I kept my jab as light and flippant as he did.

  “Girls, girls, you’re both pretty,” Cam cut in, tugging me away from the pretty boy before I could break his face. “Now, look, here comes Madeline.”

  “Who?” Unlike Declan Davies, I didn’t recognize the girl he pointed out entering the warehouse-like building they called a soundstage. She was tiny – pocket size, really – with dark, auburn hair and pretty, if not exaggerated, features.

  “Madeline Little,” Cam explained in a hushed voice as she finally spotted the three of us staring at her. When I continued to look lost, he elbowed me and whispered, “She just graduated from the Mouse’s starlet factory. This is her first serious role. She’s playing you.”

  Apparently, Declan Davies was simply playing a role in a movie, but Madeline Little was me. I wanted to return the foot stomp, but unfortunately, the young actress locked onto me. Her sharp eyes had jumped from Cam to me
with precision, and I had no doubt that she’d just pinned me for exactly who I was. Her gaze was fierce and her stride, powerful. She was clearly on a mission.

  She was wearing a strange, shapeless, blue gown, and her face was peppered with a sweaty gleam.

  Surely, hair and make-up could do better than that. She looked sickly, and her venomous glare at anyone who crossed her path wasn’t helping. Behind her, she was trailed by a school of fish, each member of the group had at least ten years on their leader.

  Madeline halted in front of me and her entourage swarmed at her back. Two of them were on cell phones and one poured over a thick stack of papers, leaving only a large, exotic man to pay attention to me. And I was getting the distinct impression that he was mostly sizing me up.

  “Okay, quick –,” Madeline Little demanded as she stared at me with unblinking boldness. “– Tell me what it’s like to give birth.”

  I reeled away from her like she’d slapped me in the face. She might as well have. For three years I’d done everything in my power to forget the experience, and this girl, who didn’t even have the decency to introduce herself to me, blurts it out like having a baby was the equivalent to an exciting vacation in Cabo or an interesting experience at The Cheesecake Factory.

  I was paralyzed under the weight of all the eyes that suddenly turned towards me.

  They all knew. It was all I could think. Everyone knew, and they were all staring at me.

  No, thank you!

  I turned, and power-walked to the closest exit.

  The California sun blinded me when I exploded out of the dim soundstage, and I shielded my eyes, stumbling over to an isolated spot around the corner. It took less than a minute for Cam to find me.

  He faced me where I was leaning against the wall, and silently observed me, probably factoring my current mood into what he could do or say right now without getting snapped at.

  “This was a bad idea,” I cut off his calculations, sucking down husky gulps of air. “I shouldn’t have come.”

  “I never thought I’d see the day when Madeline Little was out drama queened.” He shook his head with exaggerated disbelief.

  “Drama queened? You should ask for a refund on that English degree,” I snapped. How come he wasn’t jumping to my defense? He should be outraged right along with me! I didn’t care how famous Madeline Little was, that was just plain rude.

  He grinned at my slight.

  “Just because you haven’t read the book doesn’t mean you can block out everything that happened, Ads. You had to know coming into this that your pregnancy would be a part of the film. Madeline wasn’t throwing it in your face. They’re filming some of the birthing scene today.”

  Well, that explained Madeline’s cruddy appearance. Although, I’d like to have had a word with the director if he really thought a little fake sweat could simulate a woman in labor. It wasn’t nearly that pretty.

  I let out an aggravated snort.

  There was no escaping the fact that I’d invited the world into my secrets, but until the moment Madeline Little had shoved reality in my face, the Adley Adair that had given birth as a scared teenager had been nothing but a character locked inside of Cam’s book.

  “Need I remind you that it was you who insisted on the use of our real names if I published?” Cam reminded, raising a pointed eyebrow.

  My eyes cast downward. I really wasn’t looking to get into the psychology of that decision on top of everything else, so I kept my mouth shut.

  When my shoulders slumped, he knew he’d won, and I let him pull me off the wall like someone scrapping gum off the bottom of their shoe. I was just as reluctant as the gum.

  “Cheer up, Addy!” he encouraged, holding me close to his side as we walked away. “After a quick chat with the director, we don’t have to be back here until Monday!”

  I frowned. Somehow two days didn’t seem like much of a reprieve at all.

  Chapter Two

  Declan

  I watched the feisty woman bail out after Little’s exclamation. While I admit tact wasn’t exactly Madeline’s forte, the blonde had reacted like her darkest secret had just been uncovered for the first time. Didn’t she know that any literate person in the world had access to that information? Her entire journey from stuck-up princess to pregnant teen was documented in hardback, paperback, eBook, and was soon to-be on movie screens.

  Cameron shot Madeline a hard glare before tearing out after his leading lady.

  “What?” Madeline demanded, turning her intense gaze on me since I was the only person left that she wasn’t paying.

  “She seems a bit quick to spit the dummy.” I ran a hand through my hair and regretted it instantly. That was going to cost me at least another fifteen minutes in the chair. Apparently ‘messy’ hair could only be attained with the help of several stylists and a personal hairdresser. I’d learned the hard way that my actually messy hair was deemed unacceptable.

  “English, Declan!” If rolling your eyes was an Olympic sport, Madeline would have as many gold medals as that swimming bloke.

  Even if the little sheila looked like she’d sucked on a sour lollie most of the time, I still had a soft spot for her. It was easy to forget she was just eighteen, especially when she was mouthing off or making demands, but at the end of the day, Madeline was just a kid. I’d grown up the same way she had, jumping from television set to movie set to whatever publicity tour was called for.

  “Tell one of your people to start keeping a list of Australian slang,” I joked with a wink, but unlike most of the female population, she neither blushed nor giggled. Instead, she snapped her fingers, pulling the raven haired girl to her left out of her texting coma.

  “Keep a list of Declan’s weird words and phrases,” she ordered briskly before giving me a little smirk. “Maybe, if I could understand a damn thing he says, we could actually produce a little chemistry on screen.”

  My movements were sharp in a mock salute, and then I began my explanation, “Item one: the real Adley Adair is quick to ‘spit the dummy’. The American translation: she is quick to get upset. The Declan Davies translation: Adley Adair obviously has a stick up her ass, and you shouldn’t worry about her.”

  “That’s easy for you to say.” I could tell from the look on her face that she was worrying about it quite a bit. “You haven’t bombed the last week of filming. American translation: I don’t understand her character, and it shows. Madeline Little translation: I suck, and the real Adley Adair is my one chance to get inside the character’s head.”

  Her obvious dejection startled her entourage out of their technology stupor, and they were quick to jump in with the normal ass-kissing slogans. Having to find a new cash cow this late in the game just wasn’t an option for these whackers. American translation: mooching assholes.

  I felt envious of her though, not for all her offsiders, but for her passion. I couldn’t summon up a shred of that intensity for anything in my life. Honestly, the little exchange that happened with Adley was the most interesting thing that had occurred in months. When I’d been younger, it had been easier to squelch the boredom with little distractions. There were always girls willing to fall in love (or at least a bit of lust), and new, risky film projects to challenge me.

  Twenty-three year olds are supposed to feel invincible. They’re out there making mistakes, and finding excitement in every new adventure. I felt like an eighty year old man – not wise – but bored shitless with the life I’d worked so hard to achieve. No one ever tells you what it’s going to be like when you reach the top of the mountain, or how it’s going to be when you have nothing else to fight for, when all your dreams have come true and you’re standing their alone, with no fucking clue what to do next.

  “You’re needed on stage five, Mr. Davies,” a squatty little AD told me before shuffling away.

  I guess stage five came next. My feet carried me forward as my brain zoned out into the life I’d created.

  +++

 
“You lied.” I overheard the always-lovely Adley Adair scold Cam as they entered the summer themed party together, two days after our charming first introduction.

  Her frown didn’t look fresh. I would almost guarantee it had been perched on her face since the moment he told her about the cast and crew pool party being held at the director’s – Georgia’s – house. Georgia had Madeline and I over early to read through a few script changes.

  When I’d heard Georgia Torres was directing the film, I’d been really pleased. Anyone who had seen her work knew she was talented. I just wasn’t expecting such a hard ass to live inside the sweet looking, southern woman. Not even that Alabama accent could cover up her ruthlessness when it came to creating a quality film.

  The result was that I’d been here for hours, and the pretty socialite snuggled into my side couldn’t even perk up my attention. Chatting beside one of the many, handcrafted fire pits that circled the marble pool, I couldn’t blame my disinterest on any fault of the twenty-year-old who’d informed me eagerly of her father’s high-standing position in the same studio that was producing The Girl in the Yellow Dress.

  She seemed intelligent enough, debating the merits of a Sophia Coppola film that had just been released, even if she did sound a bit like she was reciting a movie review word for word. God forbid anyone have an original thought in this industry anymore.

  “Quit being a bitch,” Cam replied to her with surprisingly good cheer, considering the content of his statement. “You’re getting paid to be inspirational. I told you we weren’t going back to the set until Monday. I didn’t say anything about gatherings that involved the cast.”

  They were standing close enough that I could comfortably eavesdrop unnoticed.

  In the time I’d gotten to know Cameron, I’d come to think of him as a decent bloke. I saw him, his essence, in The Girl in the Yellow Dress, but Adley was turning out to be an enigma. It was hard to reconcile the character with the girl I’d met. Besides being beautiful and sharing the name Adley Adair, she wasn’t anything like her courageous, strong, magnificently flawed counterpart.