Superstar (12 page)

That night she
lay awake for a long time, filled with regret for the loss of the
dream that would never come true, the dream man whom she would
never truly know. How easily a dream could be shattered. It was as
fragile as glass, as elusive as the wind.

Mark made the
next few weeks of filming easy for her. He avoided her like the
plague, was coldly polite when they did meet, and spent a lot of
time in Janice's company. Harold looked bewildered when they met in
cold formality, and when he asked her about it, Carrin shrugged and
told him that they were only acquaintances, nothing more. He looked
sceptical, but did not press the issue.

One afternoon,
as Carrin was going through the screenplay, she noticed that there
was an extra scene. She flipped through it again. Thirty-two
scenes, when there should have been thirty-one. Frowning, she
studied each scene. Scene twenty eight was unfamiliar, and she read
it with growing horror. It was a sex scene. It described Jason
Talbot and Sheena Marshall, the woman assassin, in a graphically
explicit sexual encounter. The young assistant next to her on the
set jumped as she slammed the weighty screenplay down. Furious, she
picked up the document again and looked around for Harold. He was
talking to Mark and Janice, and the three had their heads together
in deep conversation. Carrin did not care. She marched up to them,
the script open on the offending page.

"Excuse me."
She spoke loudly behind Harold, controlling her voice with an
effort.

Harold turned,
adjusting his horn-rimmed glasses. "Ah, Carrin, we were just
discussing -"

"Scene
twenty-eight?"

"Er, no, we
were -"

"Who put in
the extra scene?"

"Oh." Harold
flipped through his script, and Mark watched, poker-faced as usual.
Janice looked smug, so she obviously knew what scene twenty-eight
was. Harold found the page and glanced at her guiltily.

"Ah, yes. We
had that written by another screenwriter. You had neglected to
include a love scene."

"Love scene!
This is positively pornographic, it's sleazy!"

Harold cleared
his throat. "Well, no it's not. The public want love scenes, you
know."

Carrin waved
the script at him. "That's not a love scene. This story doesn't
need soft porn to sell it."

Janice
laughed. "Well, you must be a real little prude, Miss York. There's
nothing wrong with that scene. It's passionate, I like it."

Carrin cast a
scathing glance at the actress, not bothering to dignify that
comment with an answer. Mark watched her with narrowed eyes, and
again she wished she knew what was going on behind them. Harold ran
a hand through his thinning hair.

"Carrin, what
we have here is a difference of opinion again. Our writers, when
they looked over the script, thought that it needed a love scene,
so they put one in. I'm afraid it's going to stay. The biggest draw
card about this film is Mark, and his fans want to see him... well,
shirtless, at least. Bits of this scene will be in the trailer too,
it's important." He glanced at Mark, but the actor looked
distinctly bored, staring across the set.

"Are you
implying that without Mark's hairy butt on display the film will
flop?" Carrin demanded.

"No, but it
will greatly increase its chances of success -"

Mark glanced
around. "My butt's not going to be -"

"Mark rarely
agrees to do sex scenes, as you like to call it," Harold
interrupted. "So the fact that he's agreed to do this one for the
sake of the movie deserves a bit more appreciation from you, I
would say."

"It's not
hairy, either," Mark muttered.

In a last
desperate appeal, Carrin turned to him. "Mark?"

He looked at
her, his eyes flat. "I don't really care, either way."

Carrin slumped
in defeat, trying to ignore Janice's spiteful smile. She turned to
Harold. "Well you won't need my opinion of it. You already have it.
When you shoot it, I won't be here."

He nodded,
looking relieved, but shot a worried glance at Mark. "Sure, that's
fine, Carrin."

Carrin walked
away to find a chair and flop into it. Without Mark's support, she
was alone and insignificant. He seemed to have taken her rejection
hard. He must be so used to women falling for him that his ego had
taken a massive denting. She had not thought that he would become
so unfriendly simply because she would not go out with him. He
acted as if she had hurt him deeply, yet how could she? How could
he be so bitter and resentful over something so petty? Why couldn't
they still be friends? The more she thought about it, the angrier
she became. It was not fair that he should turn on her because she
would not go out with him.

Carrin
watched the filming until Harold called the final 'cut' and
everyone packed up. Mark headed for the make-up department, and she
went after him. She was going to give him a piece of her mind,
superstar or not.

In the
make-up room, Mark sat in the swivelling chair, and Jerry bent over
him, wielding a cotton pad. He looked around in surprise, and Mark
glanced up.

Seeing the
expression on her face, he said, "Jerry, would you give us a
minute, please?"

Casting Carrin
a knowing look, Jerry left. Carrin folded her arms, her courage
waning under Mark's flat gaze.

"What is it?"
he asked.

"I want to
know why you've been so hostile lately."

"Hostile?"

"Yes. Ever
since I told you that I have a boyfriend, and can't go out with
you, you've been very unfriendly. Today, when I needed your
support, you weren't interested."

His brows
rose. "There was nothing I could have done, anyway. I explained
that to you, didn't I?"

"At least you
could have agreed with me."

He looked
away. "Yes, I suppose I could have done that."

His soft
agreement was her undoing. It was too much like her dream of him;
his gentle words were salt in her wounds.

Her voice
rose. "You know, I have my own life to live. I have a right to have
a boyfriend, get married if I want, without you getting nasty
because I won't go out with you. You may be a superstar, but you
can't always get everything you want. If I dented your bloated ego,
I'm sorry, but I'm not going to be another notch on your
bedpost."

"Carrin -"

"You've
got Janice running after you already, and before that you had
Jenna, how many more women do you need?"

"Carrin -"

"I'll bet it
just eats you up that some little country hick turned you down,
because you think you're God's gift to women, but you're not
everybody's cup of tea, let me tell you."

"Carrin!"

"If you don't
have the common decency to be civil to me now, then making this
film is going to be very awkward. I thought you were my friend. I
thought you were going to help me through this, since you know so
much more about it than I do. You -"

Mark rose,
cutting off her flow. "Stop it. I was angry about what you said
because you were lying. I phoned your mother, and she told me that
you don't have a boyfriend. I could see that you were making it up
when you said it. You're no actress."

Carrin stared
at him, her mouth open. Her mind whirled in frantic circles, like a
trapped bird. Mark took hold of her shoulders and gazed into her
eyes.

"Why did you
lie to me? Why are you so afraid of me? If you didn't want to go
out with me, why didn't you just say so?"

"I..." Carrin
found her mind blank, her eyes locked with his.

"I'm not
looking for another notch on my bedpost; there aren't that many
there anyway. You're not that kind of girl, anyway. You're not like
Janice or Jenna."

Carrin gulped.
"No."

"So why
wouldn't you go to dinner with me? I wasn't going to try to seduce
you." He smiled. "I doubt I would have succeeded, anyway. When you
made up that story to avoid my company, I thought that was the way
you wanted it, so I left you alone."

She longed to
cry, 'I don't want you to leave me alone, I just wish you were a
good person, instead of a cruel woman beater!' No words at all
would issue from her tight throat, however, and she cursed
inwardly. He was so close, only inches away, within easy reach. The
temptation to touch that famous face was almost overwhelming. She
longed to trace its perfect contours with her fingers as her pencil
had so often caressed his image. That would only reveal her
feelings for him though, and cause her monumental humiliation, in
the face of his undoubtedly triumphant mockery. No matter how hard
it was, she must never allow him that satisfaction. She looked
away, her mind still blank with panic. He was waiting for an
answer, his warm hands sending tingles through her.

"I just...
don't want to go out with you."

"May I ask
why?"

"No. It's a
lot of things. I can't..." To her horror, her throat closed up
again.

"It's okay,"
he murmured. "I think I understand. We can be friends, though?"

"Yes, of
course."

He smiled
wryly. "Good. By the way, I don't think I'm God's gift to
women."

Carrin
flushed, scowling. "How did you get my mother's phone number?"

"The computer
records all numbers that are dialled from my house."

"Oh."

His
hands slid from her shoulders, and he turned away. She stared at
him in confusion as he went over to the make-up chair and settled
into it again. How could this be the same man who had beaten Helen
so badly? He seemed so gentle, so understanding. If only it was
real. Surely this was an act. For whatever reason, he wanted to
stay friends with her. Why? What could he possibly want with her?
What use did he have for her, as he had told Simon Grey? Still,
despite his sinister reasons for being her friend, she was
ridiculously glad that he was warm towards her again. Sweet lies.
How sweet it was, to be his friend. No matter if it was not real,
she would enjoy it while it lasted, for it was the nearest she
would ever get to her dream of him coming true.

Remembering
the reason for the discussion, she said, "Will you tell Harold
then?"

"Tell him
what?"

"That you
don't like scene twenty-eight."

"Oh." He
smiled. "Actually, I really don't mind sex scenes. They only shoot
me from the waist up. It's Janice who'll be baring all, and she
loves it."

Carrin sighed.
"Couldn't you get him to tone it down? Make it more tender, less
raunchy?"

"I could
try."

She nodded.
That was good enough. If Mark Lord tried, the scene would be
changed, she was sure of it. He stared into space, looking
preoccupied, and now she was just hanging around.

"I'd better
go, the car will be waiting."

He glanced at
her. "Yes, sure. Goodnight." As she left the dressing room, he
called, "Jerry, come and take the rest of this gunk off me."

On the way
back to the hotel, she went over what had happened. Whatever use he
had for her had to have something to do with her going out with
him, though she could not imagine what it could be, since he could
go out with just about any woman he wished. That was why he had
been so angry when she had lied to avoid his invitation. That was
why he had phoned her mother to check up on her. Now he had
apparently decided to be friends with her again in the hope of
persuading her to go along with his plans at some future date.
Well, she was forewarned, she would be cautious.

Chapter
Six

The following
day, she returned Mark's greeting with a warm smile, and Janice
glared. Warren and Harold seemed relieved, however. At lunchtime,
Mark took Harold aside for a long chat, at the end of which Harold
returned to the set looking harassed. Carrin smiled sweetly at him
when he shot her an accusing look. Two days later, a new draft of
scene twenty-eight appeared on one of the tables, and all were
instructed to read it. Carrin paged through it, well satisfied. It
was still a sex scene in her opinion, but in much better taste.
Janice pulled a face, openly dissatisfied, and shot her a dirty
look.

The filming
went on for another two weeks without a hitch. They shot the bar
scene, where Jason Talbot took the call from the mafia and agreed
to meet them in the empty warehouse. Then they did another scene
with Talbot and the mafia don, and finally a street scene in which
Talbot spotted his prey and started the chase that would escalate
throughout the movie.

This was
complex, and involved a lot of extras and a great deal of
hair-pulling for Harold when the extras forgot their queues and
blocked the cameras or got in the actors' way. Mark was friendly
without seeking out her company, supportive yet objective. He
treated her with kindness and courtesy, a distant sadness in his
eyes. Pictures of him with Janice at a nightclub appeared in a
magazine, which Janice gloatingly showed her. Carrin wondered if
she knew what kind of man she was getting involved with.

One
afternoon, as she was leaving the set, a young man waylaid her. She
recognised him as Tony Hill, one of the supporting actors, a dark,
handsome man with pale blue eyes and a nose that was just a little
too large for him. He smiled at her, looking a bit
uncertain.

"Hi."

"Hello."

"I was
wondering, er, if you had any plans for tonight."

"No." She
smiled. He struck her as a pleasant man, quiet and unobtrusive,
with a passive sort of charm and a lively wit. Several times he had
flirted with her on the set, and once Harold had rebuked him. She
did not know him well, but had developed a liking for him.

"Well, I was
wondering..." He glanced around. "If you're free, maybe you'd like
to go out somewhere."