Someone I Used to Know - By Blakney Francis Page 0,7

on movie screens.

Cameron shot Madeline a hard glare before tearing out after his leading lady.

“What?” Madeline demanded, turning her intense gaze on me since I was the only person left that she wasn’t paying.

“She seems a bit quick to spit the dummy.” I ran a hand through my hair and regretted it instantly. That was going to cost me at least another fifteen minutes in the chair. Apparently ‘messy’ hair could only be attained with the help of several stylists and a personal hairdresser. I’d learned the hard way that my actually messy hair was deemed unacceptable.

“English, Declan!” If rolling your eyes was an Olympic sport, Madeline would have as many gold medals as that swimming bloke.

Even if the little sheila looked like she’d sucked on a sour lollie most of the time, I still had a soft spot for her. It was easy to forget she was just eighteen, especially when she was mouthing off or making demands, but at the end of the day, Madeline was just a kid. I’d grown up the same way she had, jumping from television set to movie set to whatever publicity tour was called for.

“Tell one of your people to start keeping a list of Australian slang,” I joked with a wink, but unlike most of the female population, she neither blushed nor giggled. Instead, she snapped her fingers, pulling the raven haired girl to her left out of her texting coma.

“Keep a list of Declan’s weird words and phrases,” she ordered briskly before giving me a little smirk. “Maybe, if I could understand a damn thing he says, we could actually produce a little chemistry on screen.”

My movements were sharp in a mock salute, and then I began my explanation, “Item one: the real Adley Adair is quick to ‘spit the dummy’. The American translation: she is quick to get upset. The Declan Davies translation: Adley Adair obviously has a stick up her ass, and you shouldn’t worry about her.”

“That’s easy for you to say.” I could tell from the look on her face that she was worrying about it quite a bit. “You haven’t bombed the last week of filming. American translation: I don’t understand her character, and it shows. Madeline Little translation: I suck, and the real Adley Adair is my one chance to get inside the character’s head.”

Her obvious dejection startled her entourage out of their technology stupor, and they were quick to jump in with the normal ass-kissing slogans. Having to find a new cash cow this late in the game just wasn’t an option for these whackers. American translation: mooching assholes.

I felt envious of her though, not for all her offsiders, but for her passion. I couldn’t summon up a shred of that intensity for anything in my life. Honestly, the little exchange that happened with Adley was the most interesting thing that had occurred in months. When I’d been younger, it had been easier to squelch the boredom with little distractions. There were always girls willing to fall in love (or at least a bit of lust), and new, risky film projects to challenge me.

Twenty-three year olds are supposed to feel invincible. They’re out there making mistakes, and finding excitement in every new adventure. I felt like an eighty year old man – not wise – but bored shitless with the life I’d worked so hard to achieve. No one ever tells you what it’s going to be like when you reach the top of the mountain, or how it’s going to be when you have nothing else to fight for, when all your dreams have come true and you’re standing their alone, with no fucking clue what to do next.

“You’re needed on stage five, Mr. Davies,” a squatty little AD told me before shuffling away.

I guess stage five came next. My feet carried me forward as my brain zoned out into the life I’d created.

+++

“You lied.” I overheard the always-lovely Adley Adair scold Cam as they entered the summer themed party together, two days after our charming first introduction.

Her frown didn’t look fresh. I would almost guarantee it had been perched on her face since the moment he told her about the cast and crew pool party being held at the director’s – Georgia’s – house. Georgia had Madeline and I over early to read through a few script changes.

When I’d heard Georgia Torres was directing the film, I’d been really pleased. Anyone who had seen her work knew she was talented. I just

readonlinefreenovel.com Copyright 2016 - 2024