I see Finn looking at us. Not, us, really. Tara. She’s the one in the gorgeous gown. She’s the one with pristine makeup and immaculate bronze skin. She’s the one who is six feet tall in those three-inch heels. Even standing here backstage, surrounded by trailers, she looks like some sort of cross between a princess and a goddess. I glance back at Finn. He gives us a wink, but Tara doesn’t notice it. I don’t know whether I should nod back. The wink isn’t really for me, but Finn is persistent. This time he nods. I give him a slight nod back. His smiles. Just being polite, I’m sure.

I watch him as he moves gracefully around the craft table. A slice of watermelon. An orange. An apple. A few French fries and a green smoothie. He leans against his trailer, props himself up with one leg and eats a slice of watermelon. The juice runs down his lips and his chin. He wipes his mouth with the back of the hand. His perfect almond eyes are adorned with impossibly long eyelashes – the kind that women pay good money for. They make him look innocent and slightly feminine, but in a completely sexy masculine way. In other words, they make me (and many other women) swoon.

Finn continues to watch us, making it nearly impossible for me to concentrate. When Tara goes inside to try another outfit, I walk over to him.

“Hey,” he says, smiling at me with his eyes. Hmm, how can I put this?

“Hey. Listen, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m having a little bit of a hard time concentrating with you staring at Tara like that. She has noticed as well.”

The last part is a total lie. If Tara knew that Finn Dalton was checking her out, she’d probably faint. At the very least, she would not be in any mood to keep trying on and discussing clothes.

“I wasn’t staring at Tara,” he says taking a bite of the apple and chewing with his mouth open.

“What?”

“I wasn’t staring at Tara,” Finn says. He swallows and doesn’t let his eyes off mine.

“Yes, you were!” I say. “I saw you!”

Now, I’m getting upset. It’s one thing to stare and wink and it’s a whole other thing to deny it.

“No, you saw me staring. I was staring. I’m not denying that.” Finn’s so cocky, I’d want to punch him if he were anyone else. But he’s not.

“I don’t understand.”

“I wasn’t staring at Tara. Is that her name?”

“So, who were you staring at?”

“You.”

The word just hangs there in between us as if it were suspended on a string. As if it were one of those cartoon bubbles in a comic book.

“You were staring at me? Why?” I finally ask.

“Because I wanted to. You’re very pretty.” Finn takes another bite of his apple. When his eyes return to my face, I look down at the floor. For a second, I don’t know what to say.

“Well, that’s very distracting,” I say when I’m able to gather my thoughts enough to produce an actual sentence.

“I know,” he says. His eyes twinkle in the sunlight.

“No. You. You’re distracting me.”

“Now you know how I feel.”

“Agh,” I say under my breath and walk away. There’s no way to get past this. Is this really happening? It’s unusual for me to be at a loss for words, but around Finn I find myself tongue-tied.

I return to my trailer. Tara is already standing in front of the mirror, admiring herself in a beautiful lavender Monique Lhullier wedding dress. This is what I found for the wedding scene. It’s stunning. I try to focus on my work, but I feel him staring at me. Finn. It’s as if he’s burning a hole in the back of my head with his gaze. As I move around the dress, pretending to be completely involved in my work, I glance over at him. Just as I thought. He’s peeling his orange, dropping the peels on the floor, now sitting on the ground, and staring at me! No apologies. No nothing. Wait, did he really say that I was distracting him? That thought makes shivers run down my spine.

* * *

I watch Finn the rest of the day. He says his lines so casually and effortlessly. It’s like they are actually coming out of his mouth. It’s like he means them. I know he’s an actor – and not just an actor, an Academy Award winning Best Supporting Actor – but still. The other actors are also quite good. Natural. But he mesmerizes me. I’ve heard actors and actresses talk about the process and how important it is to have someone who gives and takes and works well with others. Finn seems to embody that. Even though he comes off like this arrogant, cocky, self-involved movie star in real life, in the scene he’s nothing but generous and kind. His demeanor and his casual smiles put everyone at ease. After the afternoon scene is complete, I overhear as Martha, the director, takes him aside and praises him about his generosity in working with newer and less experienced actors.

“Hey, I know how tough it can be. I was there,” he says nonchalantly.

Today is a short day. I’m off by five p.m. Even though I want to hang around and possibly have another interaction with Finn, I force myself to head to my car. Nothing good can come of flirting with that guy. Don’t you know who his girlfriend is? Ariel Chantal! No, I can’t compete with her. Not in this life.

I drive back home in a daze. I still find it difficult to believe that I just had my first day at my first job as a wardrobe stylist. I’m actually getting paid to do this for a living. This! Picking out clothes and accessories for scenes. Many people think that clothes are shallow. I’m the first one to admit that I don’t dress that stylishly in my everyday life. But ever since I worked on my ninth grade production of Romeo and Juliet, I believed that clothes were everything in the theater (and in movies). They are the perfect complement to the actors. They create scenes and establish mood. The right outfit can make or break any scene. Every play and movie has many moving parts, and wardrobe is as important as any other. And now, I actually get to do this for a living. Really? The ninth-grade girl who still lives deep inside of me can’t quite believe it.

Screeeeech!

Bam!

I hit my head on something hard. My ears buzz. The world turns black for a moment, then comes back into focus.

I look around. I don’t know what just happened. Slowly, I realize that I was just in a car accident. Smoke is billowing out from the hood of my car. I just hit the driver’s side of the car stopped in front of me. My head is pounding. With great difficulty, I open the door and walk out. Some sort of green liquid is seeping out of my car. The smell of smoke and exhaust wraps around me. Everything is moving in slow motion.