Page 58 of Anyone But the Superstar

‘Felix, I?—’

‘Excuse me?’ Ron’s New Balance sneakers smack to a stop next to us. ‘Can someone tell me how thehellwe’re supposed to film our next scene with one actor missing and the other soaking fucking wet?’

For a man with his tighty-whities half exposed, Ron is surprisingly frightening.

‘Sorry, Ron.’ Felix shifts, the odd moment gone. ‘I’ll find wardrobe and?—’

‘Who are you?’ Ron points to K-pop Ken, who steps up on my other side, his ab muscles glistening under the nearby camera lights.

Felix pulls me back.

‘Park In-Su.’ He holds his hand out to Ron.

As if out of habit, Ron grasps it.

Park smiles.

The director blinks, momentarily stunned just like I’d been. ‘Are you an actor?’ Ron sounds hopeful.

‘No.’ Park chuckles. ‘I’m an astronaut.’

At ‘astronaut’, I glance across to where Park had jumped into the pool and where a few NASA employees have gathered to see what all the Hollywood commotion is about.

Thankfully, I don’t see a blonde with black glasses. As much as I want to see my sister, I definitely don’t want to be holding Mike Hunt, about to be fired, the first time we meet.

Park gestures to his co-workers. ‘I just happened to see what was going on as I was exiting the locker rooms.’ He chuckles at Mike. ‘Man, the others are not going to believe me when I tell them what happened.’

Hopefully by ‘others’, he doesn’t mean my sister.

Park’s smile brightens. ‘I’ll just have to see if I can get a copy of the footage.’

‘What footage?’ My voice cracks at the end.

Mikey nuzzles my boob.

Park points into the pool. ‘There are cameras lined along the pool’s walls.’ He crosses his fingers. ‘Let’s hope they were on just now.’

Ron closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, as if trying to fend off a mental breakdown. ‘David?’ His voice much lower and calmer than before.

My professor is at his side in an instant. ‘Yeah, Ron?’

‘Why does your intern have a cat?’ The undercurrent of his question a lot darker than all his previous shouting. ‘And why is it on set?’

David jerks his head to me, then back to Ron. ‘Ah, well you see…’

‘Mike’s an emotional support animal,’ I offer, my voice a lothigher than I’d like. Water droplets that I can’t blame on the pool, sliding down my temples.

As if knowing he’s the topic of conversation, Mike flops his head back to aim an upside-down glare at Ron. I juggle his weight, trying to show Mike in a better light. If such a thing is possible. ‘After I cleared it with NASA, I thought?—’

‘Why wasn’t it cleared withme?’ Ron, looking less than impressed with Mike and his (probably forged) credentials, crosses him arms.

The crew stills once more, all eyes on me. Judging eyes.

Heat rushes to my face and I feel like I’m seventeen again, standing in front of my ‘father’, who’s furious because I had the audacity to ask to go to an art institute rather than an Ivy League college.

David, sensing my discomfort as he did during the scene blocking, opens his mouth.

I cut him off with a look, not wanting to jeopardize his comeback to film or his friendship with Ron over something that is very much my fault. I should’ve gone home. I should’ve said no to being a stand-in. And I most assuredly should not have had Mike on set with me surrounded by all these people and various temptations to cause mischief and mayhem.