Second Act (His Chance Book 1)

by Alexa Land

  “On New Year’s Day, though? Why would anyone be casting a film today?”

  “I’ll explain everything when I see you.”

  Lorenzo looked sympathetic when I told Sylvia, “I was serious about quitting if I didn’t land a job by the end of the year. I don’t think I can handle yet another rejection.”

  “This is different, Will,” my agent insisted. “I really believe your entire life is about to change.”

  Chapter 3

  Half an hour later, I muttered, “I hate the fact that I’m getting my hopes up. Do you know how many times I’ve done that, only to end up disappointed?”

  The address Sylvia had sent me turned out to be a downtown office building, and as Lorenzo and I walked up to its glass front door, he said, “You don’t have to go through with this if you don’t want to.”

  “I know, but we’re already here. I might as well hear her out.”

  The door was locked, and Sylvia was in the lobby, putting on lipstick. She’d been in the business nearly thirty years, and she was a true professional who was always perfectly pulled together. Today though, her usually sleek auburn bob was frizzy and tied back with a scarf, and her dark blue pantsuit and print blouse seemed thrown together. This impromptu audition had clearly gotten her out of the house in a hurry.

  When I knocked, she said something to the security guard behind the counter, who got up and let us in. I introduced Sylvia to Lorenzo, and after they shook hands, she told me, “Let’s sit and talk, so I can get you up to speed.”

  We crossed the sunny, modern lobby, and once we’d settled onto a black couch and chairs, I asked, “What are we doing here?”

  “Gage Lang has an office upstairs, and you’re meeting with him in about twenty minutes.”

  Lang was an A-list action star who’d recently made the move to directing, and he was definitely a big deal. I exclaimed, “You’re kidding! What’s the meeting about?”

  “He needs to recast a part in an upcoming picture ASAP, so he called me about an hour ago and asked for you by name.”

  That was more than a little surprising. “Why would he know who I am?”

  “Because you auditioned for this role about eleven months ago,” she said. “He really liked you, but the studio insisted on going with a big name.”

  “What was the part?”

  Sylvia fished around in her designer handbag and produced a paperback, which she stuck in my hands. “This one.”

  She’d handed me a worn copy of Alex and After. It had become an instant classic when it was released in the 1990s, and its cover was adorned with a gold stamp, signifying a prestigious award it had won. There’d been a lot of talk about a film adaptation over the years, but no one had managed to reach an agreement with A.L. Sen, the reclusive author, until recently. One of the bigger studios finally obtained the rights and brought Lang on board to direct.

  “I wanted to play Alex more than anything,” I said. “I love the book and that character, and I thought I aced the audition, but I never got a call-back. Then there was a big announcement that a hot, young A-lister had been cast in the role, which made me wonder why they’d even bothered holding open auditions.”

  Sylvia said, “Well, now the A-lister is out and they need to recast the part.”

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m sure Lang will fill you in.”

  “In all honesty, do you really think I have a shot here, Sylvia?”

  “Absolutely. I got the impression he really wants you for this part, so it might just be a question of getting the studio to sign off on you.” When I tried to hand the book back to her, she said, “Take that with you. It might win some brownie points with the director,” so I stuck it in my jacket pocket.

  I muttered, “I wish I’d had time to prepare some material. I also wish I was dressed better.”

  “You look fine, and Lang knows you didn’t have time to prepare anything. He’ll probably run a scene with you, or he could ask you to perform something you have memorized. Either way, you’ll do great.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Sylvia looked confident as she leaned back in her seat. “I know I am. Just make sure you come across as calm and confident, even if you’re freaking out inside. Lang’s frazzled right now, not that he’ll show it, and he needs to know he can count on you to play this character and save his film.”

  “Why does it need saving?”

  “I heard through the grapevine that this production has already faced numerous delays. Now it’s set to begin filming on Monday, and they really have to stick to that schedule. One more delay might cause the studio to pull the plug, and Lang has everything riding on this. If the film is a success, it’ll legitimize his move from acting to directing. But if it fails, he can probably kiss his directorial career goodbye.” It helped a little to know we were both under pressure.

  We spoke for a few more minutes, and then I got up and told Sylvia I needed some air, so Lorenzo accompanied me outside. I paced around and chewed on my thumbnail, until he gathered me in his arms. As I held on to him, he murmured, “You’re shaking.”

  “I’m so nervous. You know what this could mean for me, and for my family. It feels like my very last shot, and I just can’t blow it.”

  “You won’t.” He rubbed my back and said, “Just take a deep breath.” When I did as he asked, even that was shaky. I buried my face in his shoulder and concentrated on trying to calm down.

  A few minutes later, Sylvia opened the door and called, “It’s time.”

  I looked to Lorenzo for reassurance as I tried to fix my hair. “Do I look alright?”

  “Of course you do. You’re the most beautiful boy in all the world, Will.” When I met his gaze, his smile became self-conscious.

  It was all I could do not to fidget as Sylvia and I rode the elevator to the fifteenth floor. When we reached our destination, we found Gage Lang in the reception area fighting with a printer, which seemed entirely out of character.

  He was a tall, handsome African-American man in his late thirties, who was still as muscular as he’d been in his action star days. Even dressed in a black track suit and sneakers, there was something regal about him. The way he carried himself made a lot of people in Hollywood think he was arrogant, but to me it just came across as confidence.

  He greeted Sylvia warmly, as if they were old friends. It was hard to tell if that was genuine, or just the typical Hollywood schmooze. After she introduced us, my agent said, “I’ll wait out here. Let’s do a quick meeting after you two have a chance to talk, Gage.”

  Lang grabbed a piece of paper from the printer before ushering me into his office and saying, “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

  “No problem.”

  “Kandinsky is an interesting name. Are you related to the Russian painter?”

  “It’s actually a stage name, but that’s who inspired it. My real name’s Will Smith, which obviously wasn’t an option.”

  Lang grinned at me. “The white Will Smith. I like that. Come and sit over here, it’s more comfortable.”

  He led me away from his huge, cluttered desk, indicating a pair of club chairs and a coffee table beside the glass wall. Then he kept the conversation light for the next few minutes by telling me a funny story about a party he’d attended the night before. He was incredibly charismatic, the kind of person who could make anyone feel at ease. It even worked on me. Once I’d relaxed a bit, he said, “I assume Sylvia told you why I wanted this meeting.”

  “Just in general terms.”

  He tried to pretend he was embarrassed as he ran a hand over his very short hair, then indicated the sheet of paper on the glass coffee table. “I’m sorry to have to ask this, and it’s nothing personal, I swear. But before I go into specifics, would you mind signing a nondisclosure agreement? What I’m about to tell you includes some sensitive information.”

  “That’s totally fine.”

  He handed me a pen, and I
quickly scanned the form before scribbling my name on the bottom. Lang left it sitting on the table as he said, “Last night, Trent Chambers was involved in a head-on collision. Apparently, he was under the influence of drugs and alcohol at the time.”

  Trent was one of Hollywood’s hottest young stars. He’d recently made two critically acclaimed films back-to-back that had netted him numerous award nominations, but there’d been stories circulating about a possible drug addiction. It seemed the gossip was right.

  “Is everyone okay?”

  “He and the guy he hit are in the hospital. They’re both pretty banged up, but they’ll live. Needless to say, this’ll turn into a feeding frenzy when the media finds out, and that’s the last thing either of them need right now. That’s why I had you sign the NDA. Not that I think you’ll go running to any reporters, obviously, but this way I can say I did my part to protect their privacy.”

  I asked, “Is Trent going to jail?”

  “His legal team will try to work out a deal for rehab instead of jail time. It’s too soon to know what’ll happen there, but one way or another, Trent won’t be showing up to the set on Monday. Even if his lawyers make this go away, and I’m not saying they should, he needs time to heal and get the substance abuse under control.”

  “He would have been great as Alex.”

  Lang met my gaze. “He wasn’t my first choice. You were.”

  “Are you serious?” When he nodded, I couldn’t help but frown a little as I asked, “So, what happened?”

  “The studio decided we needed to cast a big name, but your audition was my favorite by far. You really impressed my casting agent, too. She raved about you when she sent me the audition reel.”

  “Isn’t the studio going to insist on recasting the part with another A-lister?”

  “That’s just not going to happen at this point,” he said. “Everyone they can think of will be booked out months in advance, and we’re set to begin filming in five days.”

  “Even so, I can’t imagine them signing off on a total unknown.”

  “If they push back, I know I can convince them you’re the right call. I didn’t go to bat for you the first time, and that’s my bad. I was trying to get on the studio executives’ good side by playing nice, but screw that. We have a picture to make, and you’re who I need in this part,” he said, as he leaned back and crossed his ankle over his knee. “Even though he’s the title character, this is actually a supporting role since Alex dies halfway through the movie. The four lead actors are all major box office draws, so there’s no reason for the studio to insist on casting yet another big name.”

  “Okay. So, what do I need to do to make this happen?”

  “Two things. First, I want you to read for me,” he said. “I’m going to record you with my phone and send it directly to the head of the studio, who’s at a ski lodge in Colorado and waiting to hear from me. I already sent him your first audition, but he wants to see a bit more, so I’m going DIY here. This isn’t how we normally do things, of course, but time is of the essence.”

  I scraped up all the confidence I could muster and said, “No problem. What’s the other thing?”

  “We start filming in Mendocino on Monday, but you should plan on arriving the day after tomorrow, because the wardrobe and makeup departments will need some time with you. Expect to be on location four weeks. Your part wraps before the rest of the cast, so you’ll have about three weeks off before shooting resumes in San Francisco. That should take an additional three weeks. Is any of that an issue?”

  “My schedule’s wide open, so that’s fine.”

  “Great, then let’s get going.” Lang got up and retrieved a pair of scripts from his desk, and as he handed me one of them he said, “Take your time and familiarize yourself with the scene that’s marked. I’ll go out and chat with Sylvia while you prepare, so just call me when you’re ready.”

  Fortunately, I’d always been good at learning lines quickly, and it was a short scene so I got the dialog down in a matter of minutes. Then I took a deep breath and looked out at the city as a surprising calmness settled over me. As much as I’d absolutely love that part, I’d already been prepared to quit acting, so I had nothing left to lose.

  After I asked Lang to come back in, he put on a pair of glasses and read the other character’s lines while filming me with his phone. When we got to the end of the scene, he said, “Let’s do it again. Don’t overthink it.”

  We ended up running the lines six times before he was satisfied, and I started to wonder if I’d totally blown it. Then he said, “I know you didn’t have time to prepare anything specific, but do you have a scene you’d feel comfortable performing?”

  “I do.” Like most actors, I had several different pieces memorized, because you never knew what a casting agent might ask to see. He began filming again, and I went with Tom’s closing monologue from The Glass Menagerie, using the north Louisiana accent I’d taken years to lose. Sylvia always insisted Tennessee Williams was too over the top for an audition piece, but this just felt right somehow.

  My take on that particular scene was quiet and subtle. I allowed the words to carry me along, letting them shine on their own without over-embellishment. I felt loneliness in them, and loss, and regret. Maybe Williams hadn’t intended any of those things, but I felt them all the same.

  When I fell silent at the end of the monologue, Lang said, “I knew you were good, but damn, white Will Smith. What you just did there was next level.” He composed a text and sent it before adding, “If the studio chief can’t see the genius in that, there’s no hope for him.”

  I asked, “So, what happens now?”

  “We wait to hear back, and if he doesn’t greenlight you, then I fight like hell to change his mind.” He stood up and said, “I’ll be in touch soon. Thanks for coming in on such short notice and rolling with a pretty unusual situation.”

  “Thank you, too,” I said, as I got up and shook his hand. “I really appreciate you taking the time to meet with me.”

  While Sylvia joined Lang in his office, I went downstairs and found Lorenzo on a bench outside the building. As soon as he saw me, he jumped up and asked, “How’d it go?”

  “I’m not sure. He was nice, though.”

  “Tell me everything.”

  After I caught him up, I said, “I might have ruined my chances when I had to repeat that scene six times, but he seemed to like the end result.”

  “Maybe he just wanted to see how well you took direction.”

  “I hope that’s all it was.”

  He asked, “So, what happens next?”

  “Now I wait and try not to get my hopes up. If I actually get the part, I’ll be spending the next four weeks in Mendocino, starting Friday. That’s in Northern California, right?”

  “Yeah, it’s a small town on the coast, about three hours north of San Francisco.”

  After a moment, I blurted, “Holy shit, what if I actually get the part?”

  “Then that’s fantastic news and cause for a celebration.” He watched me for a beat before asking, “Isn’t it?”

  “It is, but so much could go wrong. This is a high-profile role, so if I mess up, it’ll be a very humiliating public failure. Also, it’ll only be my second movie role ever, and my first was tiny and took place about nine years ago. I’ll barely know what to do, but I’ll be expected to hit the ground running.”

  “You’ve totally got this, Will.”

  “You’re always so confident in me.”

  “For good reason.”

  I wrapped my arms around myself and muttered, “What’s wrong with me? There’s a chance I’m about to get everything I’ve been working for since I was fifteen, and I just want to go home and hide in bed.”

  “A giant, potentially life-altering event just dropped into your lap with no warning, and now everything’s up in the air. No wonder you feel overwhelmed.”

  “When you put it that way, I almost seem rational.” He put his
arm around me, and I leaned into him.

  Sylvia joined us a few minutes later, and as we headed to the same parking garage, she said, “It’s looking good, Will. Lang was impressed, and I’m confident Walters, the studio chief, will sign off on you. It all comes down to dollars and cents with that man, and delays are expensive. Since principal photography is set to begin next week, he has to realize you’re his only chance of staying on schedule.”

  I muttered, “I’d rather get the part based on my ability, not because I was the only person available on short notice.”

  “They’d never hire you if they thought you didn’t have the skills to do this, and if a time crunch is what it takes to make them give an unknown a chance, so be it. The important thing is just to get your foot in the door.” She had a point. We paused when we reached her Mercedes, and she said, “I’ll call you as soon as I hear from Lang. He mentioned wanting you on location Friday for wardrobe, hair, and makeup. That’ll mean negotiating the contract and getting your signature on it first thing tomorrow, so can you stay in town tonight?”

  I glanced at Lorenzo, and when he nodded, I said, “Sure.”

  “Alright, go and try to relax. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Thanks, Sylvia.”

  She smiled at me and said, “I’ve waited a long time for this, kid. We both have. I really believe this’ll be the start of many great things for you.”

  I gave her a hug and murmured, “I hope you’re right.”

  After she drove off, Lorenzo and I continued on to the vintage convertible, and he said, “Since you’re under orders to relax and stay in L.A., would you like me to find us someplace to spend the night?”

  “Yes, please.”

  We took a seat in the car, and he sent a text. Maybe two minutes later, he received one in return and told me, “We’re all set. My friend Sam is out of town, but he said we can use his apartment.”

  As we pulled out of the parking garage, I called Vee and asked him to take care of my cat overnight. “I’d be happy to look after the lovely Leota,” he said, “but when you get back, I’m going to need details about your second night in a row with Lorenzo.”