“Lana’s people said Christine really pushed for it. Really thought you and Haley deserved a chance to shine, and now Lana’s all psyched for this anti-hero angle on Melinoë.”
How…
Wait, what was it that Christine said?
Her words ring bright in my memory, as if every word she’s ever spoken to me is tattooed on my soul.
I already pulled some strings with my contract.
Not to put me in her contract. But to get Haley a solo movie. Haley, who looks up to Christine, who would have baked me into her contract in asecondif Christine even off-handedly mentioned it.
If I can get my suppressants working again, I really could go on and make a career with Haley and never speak to Christine again.
“Mylo? You still there?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m still here.”
“Okay, good, because they want to get you into training for this Melinoë movie, like, yesterday.”
I scoff a laugh. “We literally just finished filming the last movie yesterday.”
“You know how things move in Hollywood! Chop chop! Anyway, you’re not far, so I told them?—”
“Shit, Eddie, I’m not in LA. I’m kind of… in the middle of nowhere.”
“Okay, well then, hitch-hike on a horse and buggy or hot-wire a donkey or however the fuck you get out of the middle of nowhere and get your ass in LA! Pronto!”
“I…”I’m on it.The familiar promise catches on the tip of my tongue. I’m the one that’s always available, always ready, never a problem, never an inconvenience. But the shell I usually reach for has cracked away.
“I’m kind of in the middle of a family emergency,” I say quietly.
Eddie is quiet for a beat.
I brace for disappointment.
“Oh, dude, I’m so sorry. I know you wouldn’t say anything unless it was a big deal. Do you… want to talk about it?”
“Not really…”
“Okay. What do you want me to tell Lana’s people?”
“Um, just… give me a day or two. I should have a plan by then. I don’t want to keep them waiting.”
“Yeah, yeah, cool. It’s training, so they can be a little flexible. And you’re a fast learner. They’ve already seen that. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“Okay. Thanks, Eddie.”
“No problem, Mylo. And hey… take care of yourself.”
“Yeah. Will do.”
“Talk to you soon. Bye.”
“Bye.”
My phone goes quiet.
I run my thumb along the scorch mark on the poster, then carefully roll it up again. I brush off the toolbox and leave it on the back porch as I pull open the screen door and find a brand new keypad.
