Page 12 of Stolen Hearts
I hear Alfonso’s voice belting out Guns N’ Roses’sSweet Child O’ Mineon karaoke before I even make it through the door. It turns out directing and producing is only Alfonso’s third favorite thing to do. His second is karaoke. His first is being a raucous Tasmanian devil and whipping everyone up into a fun-fueled frenzy any chance he gets.
I’ve always hated karaoke, given that my job since fourteen has been singing, and nobody wants someone who can actually sing up there hogging the mic. But there’s something cool about the way Alfonso flings his leather jacket off his shoulder with a no-fucks-given attitude as he leans the mic stand backward and attempts unsuccessfully to hit the high note.
It's almost as if he gives you permission to be bad, and thatmakes it quite enjoyable. If it weren’t for cell phones, I’d be inclined to get up and let loose myself, but I know that anything less than a note-perfect rendition of someone else’s song will result in headlines likeA Morgan Massacre.
“Over here, bud!” Brian waves at me from a round table, pushing out one of the stools.
He’s almost unrecognizable from two hours ago. His red flannel shirt and white vest combo complement his designer blond stubble and blond hair, which are now devoid of any brain or skull fragments. His arm is draped over Laura’s shoulder, who’s wearing an almost see-through sheer top and sips what looks like an espresso martini.
I turn to Rob and pull out my wallet, retrieving my credit card.
“Get what you want, and I’ll grab a soda lime,” I say before leaving him at the bar and walking past a couple of the crew, nodding at them. Alfonso recreates Slash’s guitar solo with an inflatable guitar as I sit down on the bar stool.
“Feeling better now?” Laura asks me through gritted teeth.
I’d apologized wholeheartedly right after the accident, claiming I’d choked on my drink rather than laughed at Brian’s comment, even though I quite enjoyed the sight of my slushie covering her. Many of the crew even came up to high-five me as I made my way back to the trailer.
“Much. Thank you. Sorry again. I hope it was easy to get my slushie out of your hair?” I temper my tone to try and show her some sincerity.
“Brian helped me.”
Laura leans into him and gives him a puppy dog look, which reminds me that I do indeed have a gag reflex. There’s something about her that reminds me of Regina George fromMean Girls. Possessive. Nasty. But under the guise of being popular, I can sense Laura’s insecurity.
“Here you go, boss.” Rob passes me a drink and heads off to sit with a couple of the crew he’s befriended.
It’s at times like this that I’d prefer Rob to be at the table with me, rather than observing the scene from a safe distance. I barely have anything in common with Brian. And as for Laura, I have no intention of ever seeing her again once all my film commitments are through.
“What’s next for you after this?” I ask, in hopes that Brian’s narcissism will take the attention off me for however long I need to stay here.
“I’m heading back to LA tomorrow. I got a callback for the new Greta Gerwig film, and my agent put me forward to the casting director for Shawn Levy’s new movie. They want me to come in and audition for one of the lead roles, which I’m super pumped for.” His arm slips from Laura’s shoulder to reach for his beer.
“Congrats dude, that’s sick!” My enthusiasm as I reach to high-five him almost sends my drink flying.
“Thanks bud. I think this could be my big break. My agent actually said this role, combined with the PR from the accident on set the other night, has got me front of mind with a lot of the bigwigs in Hollywood. That I could finally break out from being a supporting actor to a leading one.” He rubs at his blond stubble as his eyes widen.
“What does that mean for you?” My gaze darts between Brian and Laura.
“What do you mean?” Laura’s shoulders rise.
“As in, what happens after this film for you both? For this.” I wave at the gap that’s opened up between them.
I know full well Brian has no intention of keeping their liaison going beyond the film. He said as much during our first scene together, when he checked to see if I was interested in making a move. But I get the sense that Laura is a lot more invested. That Brian is her meal ticket. And if she can ride his coattails, she could land more prestigious roles than the horror films and Hallmark movies that have littered her career to date.
“We’ll find a way to make it work,” Brian says as he turns and kisses her forehead.
It’s so convincing that I nearly fall for it. No wonder Hollywood is calling for him, if he can lie this convincingly.
Hollering and hooting comes from across the bar at Alfonso’s massacre of one of the all-time classics. Only Alfonso could butcher a song that bad and still receive such a rapturous response.
“You’re up next,” Alfonso says into the microphone as he pushes it back into the mic stand and makes his way down to us.
“Next?” My brows lift.
I didn’t agree to sing anything.
An alert sounds from my phone, diverting my attention away from Alfonso, and I reach into my jeans pocket to retrieve it.
Johnny
