Frozen to the spot, I continued to observe Alex’s unsettling display of character. He pulled his shirt off, threw it on the floor and clicked his fingers in the direction of one of the crew members. I presumed it was his signal for one of them to pick his shirt up, and I held in a shuddering breath as a woman scurried over to the discarded item before folding it neatly and placing it across the back of a vacant chair.
He didn’t offer any thanks, just sauntered over to the interior set design and settled at the table that was prepared for the scene he would be shooting today. Another female, a young blonde, hurried over to him before touching up his make-up.
“So, where is she? The least she could do is get here on time.” He tapped his fingers rhythmically on the wooden table, glowering at Rowan who was flicking through a handful of loose papers.
“Alex, I’m sorry. You know what Amy is like. She’s very delicate . . .”
“Delicate, my ass. She’s lazy, completely fucking lazy. Slept in again I should think. Too busy spreading her legs for that hippy boyfriend of hers.”
“Alex, please. I don’t need any animosity between you two today. It’s the main reason we’re having to completely re-shoot these scenes. Your anger toward each other shows through on film.”
Alex sprung to his feet, the chair clattering behind him as he marched toward Rowan.
“Are you saying that I can’t act, huh? Is that what you’re saying? Because if you are, you’d better watch yourself. I’m the star around here. Not you. Not sweet, fucking, pathetic Amy Strickland!”
“No, no . . . Alex. That’s not what I meant. Of course you can act.”
I watched their interchange with growing disbelief and anger. Alex Denton was an absolute shit. My fantasies that had revolved around him for the past seven years were crashing down around me every time he opened his mouth or glared at some-one. It wasn’t what I wanted to hear, or see.
And still he continued. “If I walked from this movie the whole thing would be one major big fail. No Alex Denton! No fucking movie!”
I couldn’t help myself as I guffawed loudly at his egotistical words.
The general buzz of people quietly chatting, pretending not to listen, stopped. All eyes in the room turned to me, including the coldest blue eyes I had ever had the misfortune to meet. They were the same eyes I had seen staring into mine, night after night when I dreamt about him.
“You got something to say, Work Experience?” he sneered.
I swallowed hard, fighting the bile that was rising in my throat.
“N-no.” I managed to stutter.
“Didn’t think you would. Your sort never does.”
I curled my right hand into a clenched fist, and found my voice. “My sort?”
“Yeah, your sort.” His lips curled into an even wider sneer. “Always the fucking same.”
I straightened my shoulders. “And what exactly does that mean?”
He narrowed his eyes, as if contemplating his reply. I didn’t miss the way he lowered his gaze to scan my body. I felt naked, as if he was ogling me, sizing me up against every other female he had known. I was sure there were many. I tried to stay positive, and lifted my clipboard to my chest before crossing my arms over it. It was the only physical barrier between us.
“Ah, Alex, Amy is here,” Rowan said, breaking mine and Alex’s silent standoff.
He rushed over to the studio doors to greet the arrival of the other star of Starshine, but I was very much aware of a penetrating stare that was fixed to my face—the glare of Alex Denton.
I turned my attention to him, and was met, once again, by his piercing eyes. This time though, he wasn’t sneering, he was pouting, his lips twitching. His jaw tensed and relaxed several times as he continued to stare at me. I refused to look away, and our eyes locked for several seconds, neither one of us willing to be the first one to break the contact.
“Well, maybe you’re not the same,” he said. “But what the fuck do I care?”
He spun around and headed back to the set. I couldn’t help but follow his path across the room. Unfortunately, my attention was fixed on his ass.
I snapped out of my reverie when he turned around and caught me checking out his behind. He tutted, and shook his head before picking the chair up that he’d tipped over.
“Shit,” I swore quietly to myself. The last thing I had wanted was for the walking, talking ego to see me checking out his rear, even if it was incredibly nice.
“Evening,” he drawled as Amy positioned herself in the chair opposite him at the table.
“Alex.” Her response was cold, her body language stiff.
“So, what kept you?” he hissed. “No, don’t tell me. I can guess. But I’m confused. You never used to be a morning person.”
Amy’s shoulders rose and then fell as she sighed.
“Some things never change,” he added.
She flicked her dark auburn hair over her shoulder, the gesture so dramatic I immediately visualised her in a shampoo advertisement. “Alex, I’ll refuse to work with you if this constant verbal abuse keeps up.”
Alex slotted his fingers together before placing them behind his head. He tipped the chair on its back legs. “Just go then. I wanted you to fuck off after the first film. I never thought you’d stick around when you knew you weren’t wanted. Not for this long.”
I gasped. Not only was he making no effort to keep his conversation quiet, he seemed to be excelling at upsetting Amy. As far as I was aware, Amy had only started dating her new boyfriend, Simon, at the start of filming Starshine, this film, the third in the series. Alex and Amy had been an item up until then. But Alex had said that he didn’t want her around after the first film. Did that mean that he’d behaved like this toward Amy all through Sunspark, the second film as well? I had no idea how she managed to put up with him.
I quickly recalled all the public appearances they had made together to promote the films. They always looked so in love—touching each other, small gestures like holding hands, the lingering looks. Was it all an act?
Many fans had been heartbroken when they announced their break-up. Amy had sited Alex’s wandering eye, and the pressures of working together as well as living together, as the reasons they split. But he was still adored by the female fans who now all thought that they stood a change with him. Amy’s statement about his wandering eye had given him a reputation that had only increased his fans obsessive interest in him.
“Oh look!” Alex shot a glare in my direction. “Seems I’m surprising Work Experience Girl.”
“Alex,” Amy hissed before reaching across the table toward him.
Alex raised an eyebrow at her. “Why? What are you worried about?”
“Alex. Stop it!”
“Come on, tell me.” Alex teased, obviously enjoying the reaction he was causing.
Amy pushed her chair away from the table. “Rowan, please tell him to stop.”
Rowan looked over to them. “Why can’t you two just get along? We’ve only got two weeks of filming. We’ve got a lot to get through if you don’t want to be hauled back for more re-shoots.”
Amy stomped her foot. I widened my eyes at her childish reaction. Amy’s foot stomping seemed to amuse Alex. “Now, now, Miss Perfect.”
She stamped her foot again and screamed before heading toward Rowan. “If he doesn’t stop annoying me I’m going back to my dressing room. I will not come out for the rest of the day.”
“Alex, please?” Rowan implored as he turned to face him.
Alex motioned with his hand for Amy to sit down. “Get the camera’s rolling then, Rowan. At least when I’m acting I can pretend to like her.”
I shook my head at the animosity between them. How on earth had they managed to convince the public as well as film buffs that they liked each other and that the characters they played loved each other?
Everything I’d read and seen about them had been a complete lie. I couldn’t get a grasp on the reality of it all, and how easily they’d deceived the public. But there was one thing I was sure of: the statement that Alex had thrown at Rowan a few minutes ago, the one when he thought his acting abilities were being called into question, had never been so correct. I was confident that Alex Denton was the best actor around. The problem was that he didn’t only act in his films, he acted every second of when he was in the public domain.
I hated him for it. But I hated myself even more for having ever believed it.