Hollywood's Secret Baby

Three minutes later, I’ve finished the scene. The red light on the camera goes dim. Jay still hasn’t looked up from his phone. A little sigh escapes through Cory’s nostrils. But worst of all, the other two producers say only a single word to Cory as they make straight for the door:

“No.”

Eventually Jay looks up, realizing that it’s over. He gives me a plastic smile and then mouths something to Cory. I can’t tell what he says, but the words are a pin that deflates whatever hope he had left.

While Cory and I just stand there, motionless as though we’ve just met face-to-face with Medusa, Joan stands and asks in a far too cheery voice, “Who wants to see the make-up room?”

“Me!” Lizzie shouts and jumps out of her chair, following Joan out.

Finally alone with Cory, I blurt out, “I’m sorry. I sucked. I know. But I can do better.”

“I know you can,” Cory says, but his tone doesn’t back up his words. And it’s like he’s distracted. Looking back at the door the producers just exited. But then he snaps out of whatever thought has caught his leg like a bear trap. “Everyone has hiccups like this. By the end of this movie, you’ll look back on this and laugh.”

But Cory’s optimism is shallow. There’s something he’s not telling me. Somehow, I get the idea that things went worse than I know.

Chapter 14

Cory delays filming for three days.

“I wish I could push it back a week, but we’re already behind schedule,” he explains when we’re back at his home the evening after my disastrous audition.

He’s been stuck in his head all day. Even when we went to this amazing little ice cream shop after dinner and walked on the beach again with Lizzie, it wasn’t hard to tell that something was weighing on him. And it’s still there, whatever it is.

I can only assume it has to do with my audition. With the producers who walked out. Now he’s pushing filming back further in order to give me a little time to prepare. He’s really going too far to accommodate me, and the pressure is mounting.

The only good that has come out of this horrid experience is that I’ve completely forgotten that Lizzie still thinks Cory is just an old friend of mine. We should be talking about when he’s going to finally come clean with his daughter, but even I can see this isn't the time. Not only is Lizzie busy watching a movie in the living room while we recline out on the balcony, but filming can’t wait much longer. For now, I’m going to have to push aside my worries as a mother and focus on the stress of being the lead in a real movie.

“You’ve got 72 hours to cram in as much knowledge of the craft as possible. Which is precisely why I’ve hired you the best acting mentor in all of Hollywood.”

The ocean roars just out of reach from our secluded bit of paradise. We’ve already finished off one bottle of wine between the two of us, and he’s just popped open a second. I’m zoning out to the sounds of the surf when his comment brings me out of my tipsy reverie.

“You got me a mentor? Who?”

Cory shakes his head. “That’s tomorrow’s worry. Before then, I expect you to watch something.” He disappears inside the house and returns balancing a stack of DVD cases at least thirty high between his arms. He places them on the coffee table between us. “You don’t need to watch all of them, but this is a good place to start.”

“What are they?” I wonder out loud, thinking that if each is the length of a movie, there’s no way I can finish them all in three days, much less one night.

“Audition tapes. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I want you to analyze them.” Cory stands up here and points to a small television I hadn’t noticed on the wall. He hands me a remote control. “The DVD player is in this drawer. I’ll make sure Lizzie brushes her teeth before she falls asleep. Make yourself comfortable, but try and get through all of them.”

I nod, concerned at the serious turn his attitude has taken. Before my failed audition, he was carefree about this whole venture. No

w I’m catching him staring off in the distance between conversations, like he’s in a world whose atmosphere is pure noxious anxiety.

“Got it,” I say and pull him down for a kiss as he goes to leave.

“Good. I’ll be in my study if you need me. I need to go over some numbers before tomorrow.” Before stepping back inside, he turns back and says, “Don’t look too serious. This is Hollywood. There’s always a happy ever after waiting around the corner.”

He smiles and then he’s gone before I can tell him that he should be taking his own advice. With Cory gone, my mind races through doubts and insecurities, but I shake my head and grab the first DVD case off the stack. I get it playing and am immediately relieved to see that the video is only ten minutes long. Maybe I can get through them all tonight after all.

In the video is an older man standing in front of a white background. He’s probably thirty years my senior, but he’s got a rugged handsomeness amplified by his short beard. He holds a script in his hand, reading through the lines just like me, except he’s not like me at all. Whereas I remember an awkward weight in my stomach that made me all too self aware of where my hands were and how my posture wasn’t quite right, this man acts as though the camera isn’t there. If not for the bored voice behind the camera replying to the actor’s lines, I could actually believe that he was having a real conversation.

But the fact remains that he’s standing there, just like I did. Holding a script and reading through it all. It’s in his execution that we are world’s apart.

When his audition ends, I slap at the eject button and slide the next DVD in. I feel like even though I’ve only watched one audition that I’m cluing in on the thing Cory wants me to see. Maybe if I keep watching, I’ll be able to put my finger on it. Then, once I know what it is that I’m missing, it will just be a matter of attaining it.

The next audition is of a young woman. She might still be a teenager, actually. It’s hard to tell. She doesn’t hold a script, because she has her lines memorized. I’m not sure how she was able to accomplish this, but it certainly allows her more freedom of movement as she gets into her role as the apparent drug-addicted daughter of a Supreme Court judge, begging her mother for a third chance. Her performance is so thrilling that I actually feel the hair on my arms stick up at the climax of her monologue about finally having something to fight for now that she’s pregnant.

When her video ends, I pop in the next DVD, expecting this one to finally be an example of a bad audition. Maybe then I’ll feel my self-esteem bounce back up ever so slightly.