Ugh, I don’t want to think about this!
I pulled out our itinerary. The moment we landed, we’d be whisked off to get ready for a promotional event, followed by a dinner for the cast and crew. The next morning, we’d be blocking the sets, followed by actually acting. It was March now, and they wanted to release by Valentine’s Day next year.
Using my tablet, I searched “Damon and Blair.” The very first thing that came up was a page for fans picking their dream cast for the movie. I didn’t understand why everyone loved them so much. Damon and Blair were bad people who only cared about each other, no matter who else got hurt.
“I wished someone loved me as passionately as Damon loves Blair. He’d die for her,” one blogger wrote. Right under that was a link to the petition to replace me. Overnight, it had gained another three thousand supporters. Before I threw my tablet back in my purse, I noticed a link to a piece about Noah.
From Cute to Hot to Sinful, the headline read.
The very first picture under “cute” was the two of us when we were kids. His hair was longer and a little lighter. I remember them wanting a blonde but settling on dying his hair a warm brown instead. He always wore a shark tooth around his neck. There was even a photo of him during his own TV miniseries, The Adventures of Young Clark Kent.
The second picture of him, as “hot,” was when he acted in Hawaii as Child Ninja. He stood on a rock in the middle of the beach, shirtless and with his fist extended, the most serious expression on his face. I almost wanted to laugh. But that was his last big movie as the lead. The others flopped, and then he mostly acted in supporting roles.
Lastly, most recently, his “sinful” look, was from a photo shoot dated only a month ago. He was dressed in a full fitted suit, a smirk across his lips, a women’s leg over his shoulder while another woman sat at his feet. There was another shot where he stood shirtless, fake glasses on, and a cigarette between his lips.
“He’s hot and totally who I see as Damon, but I really hope he doesn’t blow it in this movie. His other movies sucked.”
I glanced up at him, oddly comforted that he was in the same boat as I was. Maybe this could work?
Rolling my eyes, I threw the tablet into my bag and reached for the script. I spent the whole flight reading. In fact, I didn’t even notice when we touched down until Noah got up, not saying a word. He took out his phone and grabbed his bag when the cabin door opened.
“You didn’t kill each other?” Ollie came over to me as I got up.
“At least not yet anyway,” I said, following him out. There were two cars waiting for us. Noah, however, threw his leg over the back of a black motorcycle, revved up the engine and sped off.
“Alright. We’re going to the hotel. It’s not far, and there, you all will do your first photo shoot. Hair and makeup are already in your room,” Ollie said, opening the door for me to slide in. “Have I mentioned how proud I am of you?”
“Only like seven hundred times,” I said, smiling while winding down the window. I’d never been to Chicago.
“What’s that?” I pointed to the bean-shaped object in the distance.
“It’s called the Cloud Gate. Would you like to stop—” the driver offered.
“We don’t have time, maybe later,” Ollie cut him off before he could finish, and when he said “maybe later,” he really meant “never.”
It was strange how we could shoot in the most beautiful places, but as an actor, I’d never get a chance to truly see them. Between shooting, promotions, and rest, time flew by too quickly, and every minute spent on location was planned out.
“Amelia, what would you like to eat?”
A burger, waffle fries, ice cream, and a slice of chocolate cake. But only in my dreams.
“Soup and a ham sandwich,” I said instead.
“Maybe just the soup until after the shoot. The bread might make you bloated for the photos,” he said, already texting.
“You know best.”
“And never forget it,” he said with a laugh, putting his phone back into his jacket pocket. “I’ve also talked to the director. We’ll be saving all the more intimate scenes of the movie until the end. It will give you time to ease into things and get comfortable. Sadly, they wouldn’t budge during the photo shoot.”
Noah Sloan would be kissing me between my thighs. No amount of time would make that any more comfortable.
“We’re here. A few fans found out about this location, but there is full security,” he said, handing me shades.
“Who should I act like—”
“No one. Just keep walking to the hotel, and don’t make contact. They still have to warm up to the idea of you.”
I placed the sunglasses on my face as the driver came around to my side, holding open the door for me. Ollie had misled me with the word “few.” There were at least a hundred women outside the hotel being held back by security, and just as the doors closed behind me, Noah pulled up on his bike. They almost lost their minds screaming out for him and snapping pictures.
He didn’t say anything. He gave them a small wave and a fake smile and walked in with ease.
“You aren’t Blair!” someone yelled, and all of a sudden, what tasted like sugar flew out at me, coating my hair, sliding down my shirt, and even getting into my shoes.
“Amelia!” Ollie grabbed me from the side, along with a bodyguard, and pushed me forward into the hotel.
“Someone call a doctor! Amelia, are you right?” Ollie asked, coming around to the front of me and brushing away the sugar.
“Yeah, I’m okay. I don’t need a doctor—”
“Don’t be dumb. God only knows what they could have put in that,” Noah said, frowning as he looked me up and down.
“You seem worried.”
“I would prefer you to quit because you know you can’t do it, not because you got sick,” he replied, walking off to the elevators.
So much for our little truce.
When I took off my shoes, white sugar poured out like sand. I could even feel it up against my breasts, tempting me to reach inside my bra and scoop it out.
“When do you think they will warm up to me?” I asked Ollie as we headed toward the elevator.
“When the movie comes out.”
Great! Another year of this.
I said only a short hello to the women who were working in my master suite, everything soft pink, cream, and white—my favorite colors. I started toward the marble bathroom, stripping down and stepping under the water. It was the only place I could be alone. The only place I could breathe or cry or scream.
Sliding down the slick wall, I sat on the floor as the hot water beat against my skin. And like he knew I was getting comfortable, Ollie knocked on the door. “Amelia, the doctor is here. Besides, you can’t stay in there too long or your skin will dry out.”
Sighing, I reached up, turned off the water and grabbed a towel. I couldn’t even get a moment’s peace.
“Amelia? You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be out in a second.”
“Cover up. I’ll send her in.”
“I’m covered,” I said, taking another towel for my hair.
When the door opened, an older woman with thick glasses came inside with her bag.
“Hi, Ms. London. I’m Dr. Smithson. I heard someone threw sugar on you? Did you get any in your mouth?”
“Yes.” I leaned against the sink, holding the towel around me tightly.
“Do you feel sick or dizzy?” she asked, checking my eyes with a small light.
“No.”
“Okay, I’m going to take some blood just in case,” she explained, pulling out a needle.
Ollie gave me a thumbs up and went to answer his phone. I noticed six more people come into the room. I felt as if I couldn’t breathe. But shouldn’t I be used to that by now?