The Comeback(22)

Once I was at the top, I gripped the railing with hands already slick with sweat as Able called action from below. I stood on the edge of the fire escape, swaying slightly as multiple cameras swooped menacingly around me. The man playing my adversary paused to ask if I was okay, but it sounded like he was speaking to me through a crashing waterfall. Panic waded through my veins as I sank down to sit on the platform, resting my head on my knees. My ears were ringing as somewhere below, in another world, I heard Able shout, “Cut!” The stunt coordinator made a move to help me down, but Able put his hand out to stop him.

The climb back down the fire escape to the back lot was the most excruciating moment of my life to date. Each step felt like it took five minutes. By the time I reached the bottom, I was trembling all over, and nobody on set would meet my eye. They knew I was Able’s problem because that’s how our relationship had worked up until then—I had made it clear that I didn’t need anyone else. Able called lunch, and the crew dispersed, muttering clichés about never working with animals or children. They knew they didn’t owe me anything.

Able beckoned me over to where he was talking quietly with his assistant director. When I reached the two men, the AD took one look at Able’s face and headed off to craft services, leaving me alone with him.

“What happened up there?” Able asked, so quietly that I had to lean in to hear him. For the first time, I noticed how his incisor teeth protruded slightly, sharp and shiny with spit.

I pulled away and shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal. “I’m scared of heights. I thought you knew.”

Able narrowed his eyes at me and I realized instantly that I had played it wrong, that this wasn’t the time for the insouciance, the nihilism, whatever it was he normally encouraged in me. I shifted, trying to become who he needed me to be.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“I don’t need you to be sorry, Grace. I just need you to step up,” Able said, and even though his words were gentle, his voice was different, as if he was struggling to disguise something I couldn’t identify. “Can you do that for me?”

“I don’t know,” I said, still thinking it was a question.

Able pressed his lips together tightly. Later, I would become an expert in reading his body language and adapting, but since Able had never been anything but generous and kind toward me up to that point, I had no idea how to navigate what was to come. Behind him, I could see Lorna and Ted, the other two assassins, watching us, and I wondered if I was imagining the satisfaction on their faces. I had never once considered how it felt to be invisible next to me.

“Anyone can be scared,” Able said slowly, and when I turned my attention back to him, everyone else faded into the background. “I’m not interested in fear. I’m interested in how we get past the fear. And how do we do that?”

“By doing the thing we’re scared of,” I said, and Able smiled slightly. I had been listening.

“That’s right, Gracie. So do you want to try it again? I’ll spot you myself this time.”

I stood, frozen at the prospect of letting Able down but equally aware that I couldn’t do what he was asking of me. When I didn’t reply, Able’s face started to change, and I watched as his eyes became flat and his lip curled as he studied me with barely concealed disgust. It was only when it was gone that I realized the extent of his beauty, how safe I felt when he was looking at me.

“Did you forget how lucky you are to be here?” he asked. “It’s sort of interesting to me that with all these hardworking, talented people around us, somehow it’s you wasting everyone’s time.”

“I’m really sorry,” I said, but the tiny voice saying the words didn’t sound like my own. I felt scared, disoriented, as my heart rate picked up in my chest.

“You already said that,” Able said, and as he spoke he watched me closely, learning more about my malleability, my eagerness to please with every move I made. “I just wonder if Lorna, or Ted, would like to do the stunt instead. Lorna has been particularly impressive in her scenes. She’s grown up a lot in the past few months.”

“If Lorna does it . . . will she get my part?” I asked, unsure of how to verbalize what I really meant. My stomach grumbled loudly with hunger at that moment, and I felt betrayed by my body for showing weakness.

“I really can’t promise you anything right now,” Able said. “A film set is like an ecosystem, Grace, and if you refuse to play your part in it, you’re putting everyone at risk.”

“Nathan said I wouldn’t have to do any heights,” I said, and my voice was raw with the burden of letting him down. “When we signed. He said you would use a stunt double for that.”

“I don’t care about Nathan,” Able said, irritated at the mention of my agent’s name. “I care about what’s best for my movie.”

“Can I just call my mom quickly?” I asked desperately. By this point my family had already moved into the house in Anaheim, but my mom was staying with me in a hotel room in LA for the duration of the shoot. At first, she had seemed to enjoy coming to set even more than I did, but once I was allocated a studio teacher to advocate for me on set, Able told my mom that her presence wasn’t necessary anymore. I figured it was just all part of the agreement we’d made with him, the clear separation between work and home, only by the time I was dropped back to the hotel room each night, I was so exhausted I could barely string a sentence together. My mom’s questions had long since stopped and the first signs of resentment were already showing, but I still matched the rhythm of my breathing to hers when we went to sleep at night, the air conditioner humming gently in the background.