Hollywood's Secret Baby

Crossing the set, I sit down against the wall, hyper aware of how little I’m wearing. Sarah pushes aside a crew member and is beside me in an instant.

“I will apply these horrid things to your wrists. Then I will be standing right over there.” Aft

er fastening the very real and very heavy metal manacles around my wrists, she kisses me lightly on the cheek. “You’re going to do great.”

According to the script, my character has been captured by the maniacs profiting off torturing people on the dark web. I was only trying to track down what happened to my best friend (played by Sarah), but in digging too deep, I’ve only managed to ready my own grave.

That’s how Cory described it to me on the way over.

What this means for me is a five-minute scene in which I’m tortured for the entertainment of those people watching on the dark web. In the next scene, I’ll manage to break free, but today’s set-up gives no hope of a happy ending.

Thinking back to earlier today, I recall the acronym that Cory taught me, and why this scene is going to be so insanely difficult.

“M.E.T.A.L.,” Cory says. “It stands for Memory, Ecstasy, Tears, Agony, and Laughter. These are what most actors agree are the hardest parts of acting.”

“I get the tears part, but can’t the actor just put their face in some freshly cut onions or something?”

“Yes, but the physical act of crying isn’t even the difficult part. It’s making it look authentic to the context. Same with laughter. It’s the reason that so many people suck at smiling for cameras. It’s no easy feat to laugh convincingly.”

“What about the others?”

“Memory is pretty straightforward. You have to memorize all these lines, which is hard enough, but remembering them under duress is another thing altogether. Then there’s agony, which means acting like something really hurts. So last we’ve got ecstasy. You’ve already done this one with the very first scenes we filmed, if you remember.”

I remember all right. What is clearest in my memory is the sex that Cory and I had in the changing room after, followed by my admission of love and his holding back. Something we still haven’t had the time to discuss.

“The thing is that in most scenes, you may have to worry about two, maybe even three of these aspects. But for the scene you want to film, you’re going to have to juggle all of them but the ecstasy part.” Cory closes the script I’ve been staring at and waits for me to look up before he says, “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

I’ve had hours to prepare since then, and though the cameras are ready to roll, I’m no more sure of myself than I was this morning.

“Ready?” Cory bends down in front of me and asks.

No. I want to go build a sand castle with my daughter. Feast on fish tacos and binge movies late into the night. There are a million things I’d rather be doing. I’m regretting ever thinking that movie stars have an easy life.

But this is not what I say.

“Let’s do this.”

Chapter 26

On paper, the scene is simple enough.

First, I wake up in the room. Struggle against my chains. Come to terms with my new reality. Then my tormentors appear. They threaten me. Verbally. Then physically. Prop jumper cables are attached to my bare thighs. Electricity runs through me. I scream, cry, and then vomit. They’re trying to get me to tell them what I did with the document I was able to hack from them with the help of a tech-savvy ally. I have all their real names connected to their IP addresses, along with proof of all the shit they've been doing. I can take this whole ring down, if only I weren’t their prisoner.

They think they have me, but what they don’t know is that while I’m a prostitute for pay, the woman they killed at the beginning of the movie, played by Sarah Park, wasn’t just my friend; she was my lover.

This is the twist in the movie. The audience was given clues of this relationship, but it doesn't come together to now. And in this scene, my character finally reveals why she has gone to the lengths that she has: she has nothing to lose.

What’s more, the information she dug up on them is already in the hands of detectives. While I monologue about how I did it, a montage that has yet to be filmed will show up on the screen. It’s at this point that the laughter comes into play. Because I’ve already won. They've lost. And none of their threats mean shit, because I never planned to make it out of this alive. When they killed my lover, they simultaneously created a being with a single purpose: destroy them no matter the cost.

All of this happens within five minutes of screen time. It’s the pinnacle of the movie. This is the climax we’ve been building to this whole time. It’s the scene people will recall years later. If we are ever eligible for an Oscar, this will be the part of the movie that clinches the deal.

And I’m blowing it.

“Once more from the top,” Cory calls out. The first ten times I screwed up my first line, he came over, knelt beside me, and handed me out some sound bite of wisdom or encouragement. Now he ignores me, talking to a member of his crew before leaving the set.

At least Sarah’s sticking by me.

“Here,” she says, handing me a glass of water. I take a sip, but nothing more. My throat is so tight I can’t be sure even a single drop will make it down. After taking the glass back, she says, “Remember what I told you before about acting?”