Despite the increase in attention, nobody’s coming up to me or talking to me. They’re just staring.
Staring.
I manage to ignore it long enough to go through most of the day—wardrobe, hair, and makeup followed by the scene where my character finds Damian’s character cooking naked in her kitchen with the exception of a single oven mitt. He actually did the scene totally nude even though they’re never going to show anything between his knees and his navel in the final cut of the film, bless him—before someone finally walks up to me, and as soon as she opens her mouth, I know what’s been going on all day.
“So, I don’t mean to pry or anything, but you just seem really nice and I don’t like knowing that something’s going on when it’s about you and you don’t know…” Tammy from wardrobe asks.
Yeah, she kind of trails off and doesn’t actually come to a single clear point, but judging by how uncomfortable she is talking to me, I’d say there’s really only one possible explanation, and she gives it.
“There’s a rumor,” she says. “It’s about you and, uh,” she looks around and then leans in close, “it’s about you and Damian,” she says.
“Really?” I ask, not sure whether to play it like I’m surprised or like I don’t have time for idle rumors, and so am using the word and its inflection in order to chastise her for paying mind to such childish games, so I end up about somewhere in the middle, and even I’m confused.
“Yeah,” she says. “They’re saying that the two of you have been arriving to work at the same time even though you’re driving in two separate cars. They say that’s because you’re spending the night together and, um,” she leans in close again, whispering, “They say that the two of you are having sex.”
I may be a little frustrated and more than a bit confused, but I know better than to confirm an on-set rumor about Damian and me. Even with Damian’s unwillingness to come to a decision aside, I’m not going to say anything.
I’d really rather not start looking like the chick that’s only here because she’s getting nailed by the lead.
“They say we’re having sex?” I ask.
“I thought you should know,” she says.
“If Damian and I arrive at the same time every once in a while, which, for the record, I don’t know that we do,” I tell her, “it’s because we’re both supposed to show up at the same time. I’ve shown up at the same time as you and we’re not having a torrid love affair, are we, Tammy?”
“Well, no…” she starts.
“So why is it that when you and I show up at the same time, it’s a coincidence, and yet when Damian and I show up at the same time, it’s got to be sex?” I ask.
That should do it.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I didn’t create the rumor. I just thought you should know what was being passed around and everything.”
“And I appreciate that,” I tell her, and take her by the arm. “Now, why don’t we both go to work and focus on things that actually have some bearing in reality? You know,” I tell her, “like acting.”
“Okay,” she says. “Thank you, and again, I’m sorry.”
She thanked me. That was weird.
“All right, you have a good day, Tammy,” I tell her, and release her arm.
She says something back that I couldn’t possibly care to hear, and I walk away.
I’m glad I got that nipped in the bud.
If there was going to be one big moment where Damian and I faced exposure, that was it, and I actually got her to thank me and apologize for even bringing it up.
Yeah, I’m good.
I’m in my trailer waiting for my next scene when Mick, one of the assistants to the director, knocks and lets himself in without waiting for me to answer.
Mick has boundary issues.
“Hey,” he says. “Dutch wanted me to let you know that Jones is running long on his scene and they don’t think they’re going to be able to get to you, so you can go home or whatever.”
Mick, along with having boundary issues, is a moron.
“Thanks, Mick,” I answer. “I’ll see myself out then.”