Better than the Book (Charitable Endeavors #4) - M.E. Carter Page 0,9
spent their hard earned money to meet me if I’m not fully “on.” I hate that term but that’s what it is. I turn the actor persona on and off regularly.
With fans and the press, I’m expected to be all smiles and conversational. Charming and witty. Everything I’m not unless there’s a script and director involved. Growing up in a large boisterous family I was never one to fight for attention. Desperately shy and introverted, I sat on the sidelines while my siblings and cousins bantered and roughhoused. Preferring to be an observer rather than a participant, nobody was more surprised than I was when I fell in love with theater.
Classmates swore drama was the road to an easy A in high school, so I marked it as my elective freshman year and, like they say, the rest is history. I was bitten by the acting bug after only a few weeks and, while I spent the first year as part of the ensemble, I was determined to learn and succeed.
Patting my face with a paper towel, I take a deep breath and slowly exhale. It’s a few hours. I can do this. Turn on the charm, take some photos, and thank every person who waits in line for the thirty seconds the organizers allow them to speak to me. That’s why I’m here. Why I do this. For them.
Once the last photo is snapped, I’ll slip back to my dressing room and recharge. Let my mind settle and get ready for the second half of the day. At least during that time, I’ll be with my castmates and the attention will be on them too.
Exiting the bathroom, I stop in front of the kid who hasn’t moved since I went into the bathroom.
“How do I look… what’s your name?”
“Andy, sir.”
“Not sir. Just Hunter. Do you think I’ll get a bunch of shit for not dressing up?”
The kid looks me over. What is his name? I know he just told me and yet, my mind is blank. Ask me to repeat the monologue that got me accepted into my first acting class and I wouldn’t hesitate. But, remember the guy who is keeping me on schedule for twelve hours today? Not a clue. Assessing my choice of attire for this occasion. I’m not only dressed down, but it’s a look my character would wear so it seemed like a reasonable choice. Dark wash jeans and a black T-shirt with a pair of well-worn motorcycle boots to complete the look. Really, I didn’t have the energy to think outside of a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.
“Nah. You’ve got that brooding vampire look going. Seems on brand.”
On brand? Who is this guy?
“What do you know about brand…?”
Following him as we exit the room, I nod hello to other actors in the hallway as I fall in step and wait for him to tell me his name.
“It’s Andy and I’m a business major with a minor in marketing,” he replies casually, seemingly unaffected that I can’t remember his name. It gives me a twinge of guilt that he’s used to actors blowing him off so I make a mental note to try harder. Just for today.
“And you think my brand is brooding?”
Snorting a laugh, he shakes his head before saying, “I think that’s what the public believes to be true. Whether it is or not isn’t for me or anyone else to decide. It’s the perception.”
“Well, the perception is wrong. I’m not brooding. I’m fucking exhausted.”
Pausing at the door to the small room I’ll stand in for the next few hours, my handler turns to me. His expression is a little patronizing but also sympathetic. “If I’ve learned anything working at these events, there isn’t much of a difference. There are a few waters in there on the table and I’ll be in the room should you need anything. We’ll hand you whatever needs to be signed and when you’ve got your John Hancock on it, we’ll take it from you to keep moving things along. About halfway through, we’ll take a short break so you can regroup and hit the bathroom. Cool?”
Speechless at how this kid, who can’t be more than twenty-one years old, seems to have this business all figured out and can keep us on track for the purpose of this day, I simply nod.
“Show time.”
Taking in a long breath, I exhale and turn “on” my work persona before entering the room.