signing Salinger Dolan on to the show had seemed like a major coup. He was one of the most sought-after young talents in the industry. He was right off back-to-back blockbusters of a popular book adaptation that had legions of teens, and some of their moms, in love with him. He’d been in the industry since before he started kindergarten, and his name and face were known worldwide. It was considered a miracle he was even thinking about doing a TV show, and the amount of money the studio threw at him in order to get him to sign the contract took my breath away. I might’ve been a household name, but he was a certified superstar.
He was also terrible.
He had no work ethic.
No manners.
No accountability.
And there were times he really had no talent.
At only sixteen-years-old, he was super jaded and cynical. He was rude to the point of being flat-out nasty, and the size of his ego was astronomical. We clashed from our first meeting, butting heads creatively and personally on almost every little thing. The situation had only gotten worse throughout filming together. We didn’t get along, but it was more than that. We downright hated each other. It was a problem, because on the show, we were supposed to be close. Inseparable, even.
Salinger played a young runaway with a terrible backstory whom my character kindly took in. She tried her best to heal him and set him on the right path. We shared a ton of emotional, intense scenes. There were days when I could admit he out-acted me. But more often than not, it was a struggle to get through any scene where we had to spend more than five minutes interacting. We rubbed each other the wrong way, but it seemed like everyone made concessions for Salinger because of his status.
No one cared when he showed up late for filming.
No one said anything when he didn’t know his lines or screwed up during a take.
No one criticized his wild behavior off the set or tried to control him.
He had free rein to behave however he wanted, and it was beyond annoying. It felt like I was the only person who treated him like the teenager he actually was. I was the only one who questioned some of his worst habits and the rumors surrounding him. I had expectations of him, as I would of any costar, and I let him know—often—he was not meeting them. We fought pretty much every single day, but I had no clue it was going to lead to my dismissal from the show.
It felt like a punch to the gut that all my hard work for the last five years meant nothing compared to a few months of having his name attached to the project. It made what was happening even worse than it already was.
My hands curled into fists and I tried to slow my ragged breathing. “They’re writing me off the show because of Salinger? Did he ask the producers to do that?”
I wouldn’t put the petty move past him. As much as I disliked him, he detested me even more.
“No, he didn’t. However, the fact you approached one of the producers directly with concerns about what Dolan is doing in his private life played a big part in the decision. I don’t know how many times I've told you that if you want to be successful in this industry, you know nothing, see nothing, hear nothing. Who are you to try to derail that kid's career? I can’t get my head around what you were possibly thinking.”
I blinked in surprise, honestly confused why I was the one being taken to task over expressing genuine concern for someone who was still so damn young. Even though Salinger often came across a lot older than he was, he was still truly just a kid.
“I caught him doing drugs with my makeup artist. He’s barely old enough to drive. Shouldn’t someone try and intervene before things get worse? I wasn’t only thinking about Salinger. I was also thinking about the show. If he gets caught up in a drug scandal, how’s that going to come across to the viewers?” Why was I the only one who had to keep a squeaky-clean image? Why was he allowed to run wild?
My agent sighed heavily and dragged his hand down his face. He looked disappointed; not because I was about to lose my first and only acting job, but because I’d dared to