As for an assistant, he didn’t know what he’d use one to do so he thought he could skip hiring one for now. He trained on his own so he didn’t want to hire someone to do that with him. He supposed he’d have to see a photographer so Carson would have headshots to share with casting directors but the thought of getting dressed up to do so wasn’t in his wheelhouse. He’d need to call Carson soon and touch base about everything. For now, Mac needed to concentrate on shooting his very first scenes. His stomach told him he was excited and nervous at the same time.
A tall, attractive Black women in her thirties approached him, her smile warm.
“Hi, Mac. I’m Jayla Jefferson, Sydney’s personal assistant. Let me take you to your trailer. Sydney will go over a few things with you while they do your hair and makeup. Follow me.”
He hadn’t thought about having a trailer. He’d spent time in some, especially Beau’s, on previous films. Suddenly, he felt a little like Cinderella arriving at the ball.
Jayla pointed. “That’s you up ahead. Keely’s to your right. Eric Penner is on the left.” She climbed the stairs and Mac followed her inside, where Sydney and Cassie awaited him, along with two others he recognized from the hair and makeup tests on Tuesday.
Mac greeted everyone and the stylists began work while Sydney highlighted things she was looking for in his performance. He asked a few questions, one which took her aback.
“I’d never thought of that regarding Thorne. You’re right, though. It’s a great angle to play. Let’s run with it,” she said enthusiastically.
“I have Cassie to thank for that,” Mac said. “The lengthy character sketch she sent really helped me shape how I want to portray Thorne.”
The screenwriter brightened. “With everything you’ve said, you seem to have a better handle on Thorne Mayfield than I do—and I created him!”
They spoke a few more minutes and Mac began to understand why Keely was so eager to work with Sydney again. The director had strong opinions but was very open to his suggestions.
“I want to visit with Keely before we begin. See you inside,” Sydney said, and the entourage left him alone to dress in the wardrobe someone had laid out for him.
Mac looked in the mirror and began to see Thorne reflected in the glass instead of himself. He left the trailer and headed inside the soundstage. A familiar face greeted him. Dave Patterson waved from where he stood in the middle of the set as a lighting director gestured to him. Dave worked for Greg Craft and Mac had done two other films with Dave, mostly car stunts that let the two men cut loose in high-end European sports cars.
It looked as if Dave had been slated to be Mac’s double. They had a similar build and height. He didn’t mind Dave serving as his stand-in. That included long hours of setting a scene and lighting it, which was happening now. What he didn’t want was for Dave to handle his stunts. Mac would talk to Sydney about doing his own stunt work the next time they were alone, along with letting the director know about his relationship with Keely.
After acknowledging Dave, Mac decided to grab a bottled water from the catering table. He hadn’t thought to bring one from his trailer, which he assumed had a stocked refrigerator since Beau’s always had been filled with an assortment of food and drink. As he approached, two crew members were already in line, wearing the industry uniform of a T-shirt and cargo shorts. He stepped behind them.
“He’s a stuntman. What was Sydney thinking?” the first one said.
“She’s desperate. I heard Keely babysat him the last two days, running lines with him.”
“Probably had to read his lines to him. After all, he’s a stunt guy. This is going to be a disaster. At least we’ll get paid as we go because once it’s out, this film’ll bomb big time.”
Mac turned and moved away, not wanting the pair to know he’d overheard their conversation. For the first time, it hit him that he might fail. That others expected him to fail. He’d never failed at anything.
Except his marriage.
In high school, academics and sports had come easily to him, though he’d never cared about grades. When he joined the army, he was in superb shape and breezed through basic training. He’d climbed the ladder for non-coms quickly, exuding confidence and showing leadership qualities for over a decade while in the military. Even on the toughest missions, he made sure the objective was met, despite losing some men.
This was different. A lot rode on this film. RCDS had its investment. The cast, crew, and extras all needed their paychecks and hoped putting Murder at Magic Hour on their resumes would lead to bigger, better things.
If the film was a success.
Mac played one of the two leads. He and Keely would carry the brunt of the responsibility if the picture tanked. If his performance was lacking, it could damage her career. Suddenly, the confidence within him crumbled, replaced by doubt.
At that moment, Sydney arrived on set and the first assistant director called for them to take their places. Mac’s mouth went as dry as a desert. He could barely swallow, much less deliver a line. Keely appeared and nodded at him, taking her place behind a desk in the makeshift FBI office. Someone called action.
Mac froze.
Sydney stopped after a page of the script. “Mac, I get where you want Thorne to be reserved here but it’s too tight. Loosen up some. Give him more of a world-weary attitude, okay?”
He nodded.
They called action again and though he got his lines out this time, he sounded wooden. Sydney let them run through the entire scene and then called a halt. As she gave a few suggestions to him, Mac saw the two crew guys he’d overheard. One handed over several bills to the other grinning one and he stuffed them into his pocket.
They’d bet on whether he could perform—and he’d already lost.
Sydney had them try one more time. This time, Mac couldn’t remember several lines and had to have them fed to him. He knew it wasn’t disappointment that hung like a cloud over the set. Catastrophe blanketed the room.
Sydney and Cassie both started toward him. Keely did the same. Mac flashed back to standing on the mound in high school. Baseball had been one of his favorite sports to play but being a pitcher meant he’d been under a tremendous amount of pressure. As the three women approached him, it was as if his coach walked to the mound and other players came to consult and support.
That’s when the lightbulb went off inside his head. Acting was a metaphor for baseball. Every time he tried to strike someone out, it was as much a mental game as it was the physical action of throwing the ball over the plate. He’d let those two crew guys get into his head, much as the fans who needled a pitcher during the game. What Mac needed to do was shut everything out. Psych himself back up. Get into the zone so he could deliver.
“Everyone has bad days, Mac,” Sydney began. “Don’t get discouraged. I can call a break if you need one.”
“I figured out what’s wrong,” he said, his confidence returning. “Let’s go again. I’m good.”
The director studied him a moment. “Okay. It’s your call.”
Sydney and Cassie returned to their chairs. Keely gave him an encouraging smile and sat at her desk again. Mac closed his eyes, focusing on his game plan, pushing aside everything else. Adrenaline rushed through him. He opened his eyes and nodded to Sydney.