Finn shifted uncomfortably. Sonny’s life wasn’t his, but the emotions always were; he was able to divorce his feelings from the actual memory and then apply them to his characters’ lives as needed. It made him a good actor, but the comedown after was like plummeting into an instant hangover. The pain reduced him to rock-bottom.
Finn rallied his bravado. ‘No girl,’ he said. ‘I’m just an empty shell. You know that.’
Monica smiled. ‘See you tomorrow, Finley.’
Finn returned to his dressing room and lay down on the couch. He could feel it coming and now was the time to stop it in its tracks. He took a deep breath, held the air in his lungs and exhaled slowly. Over and over and over. He went to the sink and splashed water on his face. Ran it through his hair. He looked at himself in the mirror. ‘You can do this, Finn. Stay calm. Hold it together.’
There was a knock at the door. ‘It’s open,’ he called, not turning around. He quickly dried his face.
His agent, Esme Rubenstein, barrelled in. ‘Finley, darling, I come bearing marvellous news.’ She stopped in the middle of the dressing room. ‘What’s wrong? Why are you staring at yourself in the mirror? Are you having another one of your dreadful panic attacks?’
Finn chuckled. You’d never die wondering what Esme was thinking. He turned around. ‘No, I’m not having a panic attack.’ Which was technically true, because he’d been able to keep it at bay. ‘It was just a big day on set. What are you doing here, anyway?’
Esme smiled, huge white teeth framed by bright red lipstick. She placed her hands on her wide hips and flicked her voluminous dark hair over her shoulders, clearly channelling the short-lived theatre career she never tired of recounting. ‘This is too monumental to reveal over the phone. Come.’ She sat on the couch and patted the cushion next to her. ‘Sit.’
Finn did as instructed.
Esme took his hands in her own like a proud mother. ‘We’ve got an audition.’ Her eyes sparkled with mischief. She said no more, happy to draw the moment out.
‘For what?’ Finn said patiently.
Esme shivered with excitement. She was the world’s most dramatic 55-year-old woman. ‘A Netflix original. Feature-length film. Huge budget. Filming in Australia but set in the US. Hollywood co-star.’
Finn’s pulse quickened. ‘Who?’
‘They’re not saying. But she’s A-list. This is the big one, Finley.’
‘Fuck.’
‘Fuck, indeed!’
They both laughed.
‘When?’ Finn asked.
‘Tape’s due in three weeks. In-person callbacks in April when the Hollywooder is in town.’
Finn stood up, his body charged with excitement and fear. He’d been a lead character on the evening soapHenderson Springsfor six seasons but hadn’t managed to make the transition from television to film yet. He’d gone close with a handful of auditions and even landed a part in a movie that had ended up being scuttled before a single scene was filmed. Finn was worried that, at twenty-eight, he was getting too old to make his big-screen debut.
He paced the room. ‘Okay, okay, I need to not get ahead of myself here. It’s just an audition.’
‘Wrong attitude!’ Esme snapped. ‘This isyouraudition. You were born for this role, Finley.’
He stopped, suddenly aware of the ludicrousness of that statement. ‘Wait, I don’t even know what the role is.’
Esme smiled conspiratorially. ‘You’re auditioning for the lead. It’s a romantic comedy and your character is somewhere between Ryan Gosling inCrazy, Stupid, Loveand Jude Law inThe Holiday.’
Finn raised his eyebrows. ‘So, basically, the most desirable man on the planet?’
Esme jumped to her feet and clapped her hands. ‘That’s the spirit! I’ll have the scene sent over tonight. Start working on your American accent.’
***
Finn was driving at precisely the speed limit. Without using cruise control, he had trained his foot to apply the exact amount of pressure needed to maintain a steady speed, no fluctuations. There was two cars’ distance between him and the vehicle in front and two cars’ distance between him and the vehicle behind.
Until a purple hatchback ducked into his lane and filled his rear-view mirror. It was driving so close, Finn could read the word scrawled across the female driver’s T-shirt:Fearless.
Finn checked his left shoulder, but there was a car driving alongside him so he couldn’t change lanes to shake the tailgater. Up ahead, a large intersection loomed. The light was still green. ‘Come on,’ Finn whispered. ‘Don’t change now.’ And then, as if to spite his request, the light changed to amber.
