Dreams of Stardom (Hollywood SI)

May 2005, London

Evan was excited. It was the last day of filming his very first film. True, he hadn't directed the film himself as he wanted to, but he'd written the script and directed a few songs for it. For now, that was more than enough. Usually, he didn't skip classes to go to the set, but today was different. He had gotten permission from his foster parents to witness the final day of filming. With his current plan, he would be eligible to direct his first film in four years, as per the conditions set by Steve. He had no intention of attending university for further education because, for aspiring filmmakers, film schools were a waste of time—or so Steve seemed to think. According to Steve, no one could teach filmmaking better than the experience of working on a film set.

He would have gone to the set already if not for the family drama at home. Troy, in all his wisdom, had decided to spend the night at Rihanna's hotel room. It didn't take a genius to guess what the two were doing there.

"Do you not understand something as basic as calling home to tell us where you were last night?" Steve berated Troy. "We tried calling you, but your phone was unreachable."

Instead of looking chastened, Troy shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal. "By the time we were done talking, it was very late, so Rihanna suggested I stay over. I didn't call because I knew Paolo would've informed you of my location. Don't tell me he didn't?"

"Talking," Kathy whispered to Evan with amusement. "Is that what kids call it these days?"

"Paolo did," Steve admitted, not hearing Kathy's comment. "Poor guy had to spend the night in the hotel lobby waiting for you to come back. But you didn't. God knows what you were thinking. That was very immature of you."

"I think we should all calm down," Kathy interjected, trying to de-escalate. "At least we can rest assured that we're in London, where whatever Troy may or may not have done last night was legal since he's 16 now."

"I don't care if he had sex," Steve snapped, turning to his wife. "I've probably done worse things as a teen. What matters is that he's not some random kid off the streets. The whole world knows him. If this gets out, it could have severe repercussions."

Troy at least had the decency to look sheepish when Steve pointed out the obvious.

"Come on, Steve," Kathy said soothingly. "I know he's a celebrity, but that doesn't mean he shouldn't enjoy his teen years. You know how it feels your first time."

Steve looked like he wanted to argue further but controlled himself. Turning to Troy, he asked, "Tell me at least you got her to sign an NDA."

"She's 17," Evan replied before Troy could. "So she wouldn't be able to sign it."

"Dammit!" Steve cursed.

"Calm down, Steve," Kathy said again. "Why don't you head over to the production site while I get the boys and Emily ready for the day?"

"They're not five," Steve grumbled but did as Kathy suggested, leaving the two boys and Kathy behind. Emily was blissfully unaware in the guest room at the moment, probably getting ready for the day.

When Steve finally left the living room, everyone heaved a sigh of relief in unison.

Troy turned to Kathy and said gratefully, "Thanks, Mum. I was damn sure Dad would ground me for life."

"Nah, he's just trying to act tough," Kathy waved off his concerns before stepping forward and engulfing him in a hug. "I feel so old knowing that my son is almost an adult now."

Troy looked visibly uncomfortable and glanced at Evan for help, who simply shrugged, not knowing what to do.

Kathy stepped back from the hug and gave Troy a scrutinizing look. "Please tell me you used protection. As much as I'd love a few grandchildren, not right now."

"Ugh," Troy groaned. "You didn't just ask me that!"

"Of course I did," Kathy said firmly. "Because if you didn't have safe sex, I'll get that girl a morning-after pill right now."

Troy closed his eyes in mortification before nodding. "Yes, I used a condom."

"Good," Kathy said, patting his cheek affectionately. "I'll buy you a new supply so you don't run out anytime soon."

Evan burst out laughing at Troy's predicament, while Troy looked like he wanted to disappear.

"I'll get some for you as well, Evan," Kathy said, turning toward the laughing boy. Evan's laughter stopped abruptly. Kathy's eyes glinted mischievously as she added, "I think I should talk to Nadia to remind her of that too."

Hell no.

"Please don't," Evan pleaded.

Kathy and Troy laughed together at Evan's horrified expression.

Then Troy suddenly became serious and turned back to his mother. "There's something I think I should tell you."

"I don't like that tone," Kathy said, her smile fading.

"Rihanna and I want to publicly out our relationship."

Evan knew immediately this was a bad decision on Troy's part.

"Why would you—?" Kathy began, only to pause. "Wait, you're serious about her? I didn't even know this was beyond a one-time thing."

"You're right, we aren't serious," Troy clarified. "She and I would only act as decoy lovers. It'd generate some free media coverage and keep unwanted people away since we'd have an excuse to turn them down. If we find someone we actually like, we'll publicly break up and move forward with that person."

"That's a terrible idea, son," Kathy said firmly.

"It's not," Troy argued. "It has all the benefits of a public relationship without the emotional baggage. It's perfect for me."

Kathy frowned. "You're 16."

"And?" Troy shot back. "Emma's 15. She's doing it too."

Kathy rubbed her temples, clearly frustrated. "We'll talk about this later. You two have a shoot to get to. Troy, get ready fast. Evan, go see if Emily's ready."

Both boys nodded, heading off to their respective tasks.

Since they were moving in the same direction, once they were out of Kathy's earshot, Evan fist-bumped Troy.

"Nice, bro," he said with a grin. "She is hot as hell."

"She sure is," Troy agreed.

"So, how was it?" Evan asked eagerly.

"Let's just say that yesterday was the best night of my life, and leave it at that."

"Oh come on!" Evan groaned. "You have to give me more than that. At least tell me if it was like a warm apple pie?"

Troy stopped in his step and gave a judgemental look to his foster brother. Then he shook his head. "You watch too many movies, Evan." Then he moved moved towards his room.

"Hey! Answer me!" Evan's shouts fell on deaf ears.

(Break)

"And with that scene, we are done with the movie," Stephen Daldry announced, prompting a huge round of applause across the set. The cast and crew were thrilled that the film was finally complete, but none more than me.

We had set a budget of $25 million for the movie, and thanks to Dad's involvement in the production, we wrapped it up for $22 million, leaving us with an extra $3 million—even after accounting for the upcoming wrap party. I had no intention of saving that surplus.

"Everyone!" I called out once the applause quieted. "We've wrapped filming under budget, saving a total of $3 million." There was another, quieter round of applause, but I interrupted before it could build. "Don't clap just yet. This saving was possible only because of your diligence and hard work. So, all of it will be distributed to the supporting cast and crew in proportion to their salaries, with everyone getting at least $10,000."

There were slightly fewer than 100 people in the pool, meaning each person would receive, on average, around $30,000—more than half of many of their annual salaries.

For a moment, stunned silence hung over the set. Then, chaos erupted. The thunderous applause that followed dwarfed anything I'd ever heard from this crew. Claps, whistles, and cheers echoed everywhere. Soon, two tall crew members came forward, hoisted me onto their shoulders, and paraded me around as the applause continued unabated.

I felt like I was on top of the world, looking down at everyone on the set. I saw Daldry, Emily, Rob, and even Rihanna. After last night, I'd suggested she come to the set since a party was planned for the entire cast and crew after the shoot. Other actors whose roles had wrapped earlier were invited too.

Rihanna was smiling at me—one of those genuine smiles that made her seem even more radiant. She'd benefit from the bonus as well since her salary for the movie had been just $50,000. Rob, with an even lower paycheck, was in the same situation. Emily, on the other hand, wouldn't be included in the pool because her salary was already half a million, and adding her would dilute everyone else's share. Similarly, Stephen Daldry wouldn't receive anything; his base salary of $2 million was the highest on set, and he also had a percentage of the profits waiting for him later.

The wrap party that followed was one of the most joyous I'd experienced in my seven-year career. Everyone's spirits were high, undoubtedly boosted by the unexpected bonus.

"That was a good thing you did back there," Rihanna said as she stepped beside me during the festivities.

"Thank you," I replied with a nod. "They deserve it. A lot of producers hand out bonuses after a film is a hit. I like to do it in advance because you never know who has moved on to some other country or even left showbiz behind. This is simpler."

Rihanna tilted her head and asked, "Why has your dad been giving me a judgmental look ever since I got here?"

"Were you expecting him to hug you after you took his innocent son's virtue?" I quipped.

"Innocent?" she mock-gasped. "Where was your innocence last night when you were begging me to let you put it in my—"

"I hope I'm not interrupting something," Dad interjected loudly.

I quickly looked away, heat creeping up my neck. That was definitely too much information for him to overhear.

Rihanna, on the other hand, remained unrepentant and unashamed, replying smoothly, "Of course not, Steve."

"I got a call from my wife a few hours ago," Dad began, and I immediately knew what this was about. "She told me about your arrangement."

"Can we talk about this later, Dad?" I asked hopefully. "I really don't want to argue with you here."

"I'm not arguing," Dad said evenly. "I think it's a smart move."

I blinked, startled. Was he seriously okay with me having a fake relationship? Wasn't he upset with me just this morning for spending the night with Rihanna?

"It'll keep unnecessary gold diggers away from you, and since you'll be upfront about it, the media won't hound you as much as they would if you were hiding it. But there's one thing about this plan that could be a little concerning."

Hearing the seriousness in his tone, I couldn't help but ask, "What?"

"Your race," he said, his face grave. Then he turned to Rihanna. "Don't get me wrong, Rihanna. You're a beautiful young lady, and I'd love it if you two were actually dating. But the world out there isn't fair. People will judge you and Troy harshly for stupid reasons, like the color of your skin. So before you go forward with this plan, remember that people can, and will, be mean—especially online, where anonymity makes them fearless."

I hadn't even considered that. Sure, I noticed that Rihanna didn't look like me, but I didn't think it would matter. Was the world really still so bigoted in the 21st century that they'd care about the race of a celebrity couple?

"I can handle it," Rihanna said confidently. "I'll just ignore them."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Sometimes, you have to ignore people to live your life peacefully—like I ignore most of the film critics."

Dad nodded once. "Whatever you decide, I'll support you." Then, turning to Rihanna, he added in a serious tone, "But remember, this arrangement of yours can never become public knowledge. As soon as you turn 18, you'll need to sign an NDA about it. That's non-negotiable."

"Dad," I said firmly. "Don't do this."

He didn't even glance at me, keeping his gaze fixed on Rihanna, who shrugged nonchalantly after a few moments. "Sure. If it ever gets out, it'll hurt my image too. I won't tell anyone."

Dad nodded again, this time with a slight smile. "Good. Then enjoy the party." With that, he walked off to mingle with someone else.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Rihanna turned to me. "Damn. Your dad is intense."

"He's a big softy at heart," I said. "He just gets overprotective sometimes."

"Of course he does," Rihanna said in a teasing, childish tone. "His son is so innocent and pure of heart."

I sighed. "You're never going to let the innocent thing go, are you?"

"Never."

(Break)

With the filming of the musical wrapped up, only post-production remained, which would take at least a few months. This timeline made Warner's plan for a winter release entirely feasible.

I now had nearly two months before the next [Harry Potter] film would begin shooting. The delay was unavoidable since most of the child actors, including Emma Watson, had exams scheduled during this period. Warner had no choice but to wait until everyone was finished.

I was already dreading those two idle months. I'd come to realize that I was something of a workaholic; sitting at home with nothing productive to do felt like torture to me.

Sure, I could fly to Los Angeles to be with Rihanna, but we'd decided to wait for one of the big events to publicly announce our relationship. I was hoping we could do it next month during the release of [Brick], which would provide the movie with some free publicity. If only I had a small project that I could finish in this limited time before we shot [Harry Potter].

Just as that thought crossed my mind, I got an unexpected email from an ex-colleague of mine.

Hi Troy,

I hope this email finds you well! I'm not the best at writing emails, so apologies if this comes across as a bit direct.

I tried calling you but couldn't get through—did you happen to change your phone number since we last spoke? When you have some time, please give me a call. I'd love to catch up and also discuss an idea for a potential project.

Looking forward to hearing from you soon!

Best regards

XXXX

AN: Any guesses who the ex-colleague could be?

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