Chapter 2

2

" T hat was a little too close for comfort," I said, as we hopped out of the ride share.

"No kidding." Rory took a calming breath.

I used voice command and added an extra tip for the driver, because he'd kept us from getting T-boned when an SUV ran a red light and barreled straight for us. My fingers still shook slightly as I closed out the app. L.A. drivers were the worst. A couple days ago, I'd almost been run down in a crosswalk by a motorcycle. Asshole didn't even slow down to see if I was okay. This is what I meant by bad luck. Shit like this had been happening to me more and more. Like some sort of curse.

Speaking of curses, a scraggly raven croaked at us from the branch of a potted tree on the sidewalk, and I swore it was smiling malevolently. I'd always liked birds, but over the last year every raven in L.A.—and who knew there were so many?—seemed to appear whenever anything bad happened. I pulled my sunglasses down my nose to get a better look. The bird squawked. Almost sounded like laughter.

Rory glared back. "Figures. What is it with these birds? It's like they follow you around."

"No clue. It's super creepy." I pushed my sunglasses back up my nose and turned away from the raven.

Rory straightened, took another calming breath, then entered the address Sheila had given him for the audition.

I followed him into the building, keeping my head down and my hood up.

"You look ridiculous. Take off the hood and sunglasses," Rory whispered as we moved to claim two folding chairs in the crowded waiting room.

"No," I shot back, pulling the sweatshirt's hood as tight around my face as possible. I didn't need any more videos of ‘Teremie the Cheater' ending up on social media or drawing the wrong kind of attention to Rory. You'd think I'd be old news in this town, but every time my ex needed a ratings spike, he rehashed my supposed "sins," putting me right back into the spotlight. I was even a cautionary meme. Yeah, how awesome being me. "Besides, you're the one with the hurdy gurdy."

We sat, and he leaned into me.

"And you look like you're auditioning to be a Jawa." He nudged me. A slight upturn to his lips told me he wasn't as cross as he pretended.

"I'm more of a Star Trek guy. Spock's pointy ears, rawr. Could have been an elf."

He snickered, his posture relaxing. "Why do I like you again?"

"No idea, but you're stuck with me." I grinned and gave the room a cursory glance. Looked like a "Twinks-R-US" meeting. They definitely had a type in mind for the part. Huh. And Rory was right. Lots of other hopefuls showed up with lutes. Didn't realize L.A. had so many lute players. I should know better than to be surprised at anything in this town.

I continued to check out the competition—some in costume and some not—and whispered into his ear. "If they planned to cast Tom Holland, why are they looking at, um, undiscovered talent?"

I didn't recognize a single other guy here.

"That's a nice way of saying ‘nobodies'."

" You aren't a nobody. Not to me."

Rory nudged my shoulder. "See, this is why I wanted you here. You're the only one who believes in me."

"That's not true. Sheila knows you're amazing. She didn't have to take you on."

"Yeah, though honestly, I think she's hoping things will blow over and she can get you some gigs, too. You're the one with the hair ." He struck a pouty pose and pretended to flip his bangs.

Smart ass.

I snorted. "It hasn't done me any favors yet."

We fell silent. Shit. I hadn't meant to kill the mood. Ugh, I needed to stop making everything about the past. Embrace the here and now. And things really were looking up. I needed to focus on what I had, not what I'd lost.

"I'm not sure why the change of plans," Rory said after a moment, thankfully changing the subject. "I heard a rumor one of the film's backers pulled out and they're having to downscale the production. Cutting a big name might be a savvy move, financially speaking."

A few minutes later, an assistant came by and signed Rory in and then held out a bowl full of fake coins.

"For the audition," he said. "Pick one. For luck."

"Ooh, I know how to use this in the audition." Rory reached in and grabbed a coin with the image of a bow on one side and a crown on the other. "Yesss! Perfect. Like in the book."

The guy shook the bowl in my direction. I almost refused since I wasn't auditioning but then noticed a coin with a dragon on it. All the others looked like Rory's. Hell, I could use a little luck. I plucked it out of the bowl, and the guy quickly moved to the next person. I turned the coin over. A raven. I sighed and showed Rory. He groaned. Well, at least the dragon was cool. I flipped it in the air and caught it in my palm.

Dragon side up. Nice.

I continued to play with the coin. Each time I flipped it, it came up dragon. Maybe it was a trick coin? Fine with me. I'd had enough run-ins with ravens to last me a lifetime.

When Rory's name was called, I squeezed his hand and peered up at him from under my hood. "Break a leg."

He smiled, but his lips pressed white around the edges.

"You got this," I said in a firm voice. "You're the best actor I know. Just show 'em what you got."

This time his smile was less forced, and he held up the hurdy gurdy. "Right."

While I waited, I silenced my earbuds and listened in on the chatter, continuing to flip my trick coin. Always dragons. I liked this coin. Something about it was soothing. Like a fidget spinner, only shinier.

I gathered from all the gossip that the director wasn't the easiest to work with, and there had already been several big name swaps for various parts. One guy was telling another that he heard they'd offered Kade Savage the role of the prince.

Now there was a name I hadn't thought of in a while. Kade had been a child star. He'd been born to famous parents who partied hard and acted poorly. They currently had a reality TV show called Savage Nation . Though, to my knowledge, Kade never appeared on it. He'd been my first celebrity crush when I'd been in second grade. Yeah, I started young. In my defense, he'd been a cute teen in a popular sitcom, Wolfpack Heights , and he also voiced a character in one of my favorite cartoons. And he was a wolf shifter. What wasn't to love?

Eight-year-old me had been crushed when I found out wolves always mated with other wolves. By the time I reached twelve, I'd moved on to other crushes, and Kade had disappeared from sight after the conclusion of his show. They'd even canceled the cartoon. And that had been the last I'd heard about Kade Savage. I don't think he'd even been featured in one of those "Where Are They Now" articles.

Back then, he'd had floppy, dark brown hair with blond highlights, a blinding smile, and a gangly build. What did he look like now? Before I typed it into my phone to check, Rory reentered the room.

He looked pleased. Not got-the-part pleased but I-rocked-it pleased. Good enough.

When he drew close, we fist bumped. I didn't have much in my wallet, but I'd spend it at the grocery to make him Quorn cutlet "chicken" marsala with mashed potatoes, buy some inexpensive wine, and he could regale me with his audition over dinner. He deserved a little pampering.

I stood so we could leave, when a woman with round frame glasses and a jet-black, chin-length bob poked her head into the room. She glanced at a tablet.

"Teremie Summers," she called out.

Both Rory and I froze. A murmur started among the remaining hopefuls, and my heartbeat picked up. Shit, shit, shit.

"Teremie Summers," she called again, scanning the space.

A few camera flashes.

"What the hell?" I mouthed to Rory, inching toward the door, before dropping my head down to hide my face better.

Rory followed. "Sheila must have given them your name. She's the one who suggested bringing you for moral support. I should have suspected something was up."

I didn't need to turn to sense the woman's gaze boring into the back of my hoodie as I slunk as unobtrusively as possible toward the exit. Damn it.

Well, nothing compelled me to answer the call. I'd just—

Jump out of my skin when a hand grabbed my elbow.

"Mr. Summers?" she asked, trying to peer around me to see under my hood.

I shook my head.

"Don't worry, Mr. Summers, nerves are normal," she said in a surprisingly gentle voice. "You came highly recommended, and our casting director would like a word with you." She leaned close and lowered her volume. "He's a fan of your work."

That wasn't as reassuring as she seemed to think. Did she mean my work with Matt on our YouTube channel? Or did she mean my Only Fae site?

I didn't groan, though it was a near thing.

"I'm really only here to offer my friend moral support," I said as she expertly herded me toward the audition room and away from the exit. I glanced over my shoulder at Rory and mouthed, "Help me."

He stood motionless, hands clasping his hurdy gurdy like a life raft, his eyes wide. Great, I was on my own.

"That's very kind of you to support your friend, Mr. Summers," she said. "Friends in this business are really helpful ." She emphasized the word "helpful" like I should understand what that meant. She shut the door behind us with an audible click and nudged me forward before melting into the background.

I stood slack-jawed in a room that reminded me of one of those popular talent shows with the celebrity judges. An actual spotlight lit the area where I stood, the room mostly in shadow. Three people sat behind a long desk, two men and a woman. A dimmer spotlight shone over them. I was pretty certain the woman was a wolf shifter. Since she wore sunglasses, I couldn't see her eyes to make sure. One guy was significantly older than the other two but had obviously had a lot of work done. Like wax museum levels of work. The other guy wasn't much bigger than Rory, with the air of someone who hated sitting and would much rather be doing anything else. He rocked in his seat and his arms hung at his sides in a way that made me think he'd launch himself out of his chair on all fours at any second. He wasn't a shifter, so maybe just a guy with bad posture?

"Ah, Teremie Summers, so glad you decided to audition," the older man said, giving me a smile so white it belonged in a toothpaste ad.

"Well, I—"

"Your friend is good. Better than. The hurdy gurdy was ingenious. Didn't even know it existed until he showed me or that someone could actually play it." He looked down at a clipboard. "Your agent says you're a package deal. She drives a hard bargain."

My agent ? What had Sheila been playing at? Package deal? Was that a thing? I wasn't . . . I didn't . . .

"What part, uh, am I auditioning for?" A rumor in the waiting room said newly minted A-lister Hyde Hatcher would play Eimeret, the lead elf role. Maybe a secondary part? Please, please, please, don't ask me to read from a script . I agreed to be Rory's emotional support, not set myself up for utter humiliation. There was a reason I didn't seek leading roles in films.

"Ryo Fanan. He's not in the book. We wanted a contrast to Eimeret's more stoic elf demeanor. Ryo is his stepbrother."

I took that in. Ooh, Rory would hate that. More changes from the original.

"So, I'd play an elf?"

The little guy huffed, giving me a dismissive once over, and muttered under his breath, "Waste of time, if you ask me. We can find someone better."

"Ben, be nice," the older man chided.

Excuse me? Better at being an elf? I think I broke a speed record whipping off my hood and sunglasses to show that fucker . . . Well, hello ego my old friend, I wondered where you'd been these last six months.

Ben whistled and sat forward in his chair, his eyes almost seeming to glow. Could he be a vampire? He didn't have that timeless look, though.

"Damn, Geoff, you weren't kidding. He's perfection. He just needed to a little incentive to take off that hoodie so we could properly see his face."

"Told you," Geoff said, looking smug and talking about me like I wasn't even in the room.

Even the woman nodded. "Yes, he's got the look we need. That face. Hell, they'll hardly have to have him in makeup. And his hair's flawless! But that can't be natural." She tilted her head. "Who does your weave? Excellent work."

I gasped louder than a princess who'd been told her crown was made of tinsel.

"Weave? Never!" I managed to hold back the "how dare you" on my lips. Barely. Though my hand did clutch at my imaginary pearls. "It's my real hair!"

Nothing wrong with weaves, but my golden shade and flowing locks were unusual and, well, just me. And okay, I was vain about it. Couldn't bear to cut my hair, even though it would have made me less recognizable. No, I didn't want to reflect on that at the moment. We all had areas we needed to work on.

"Like I said, he's perfect for the part." Geoff looked to his two companions for confirmation, and when they both nodded, he refocused on me.

I blinked. Blinked again. "What about my, um . . ."

"Less than stellar reputation?" Geoff ran his gaze over me like he would like nothing better than to strip off my clothes. Not happening, dude. "Haven't you heard? Hollywood's the place to remake yourself if you get the right break and know the right people. Everyone loves the bad boy."

Bad boy? Me? I almost scoffed. I'd been with Matt since I was sixteen and enjoyed cosplay and streaming about online gaming. I owned a dice collection, painted Warhammer figures, owned a turntable with a shameful amount of disco vinyl in my collection, and binged romcom audiobooks at every opportunity. Not exactly bad boy material on my best, er, worst day. And if "knowing the right people" was the Hollywood way of saying "Netflix and chill," I was out. I may jack off on camera for a living, but I determined who touched me, and it wasn't going to be this guy.

"Thanks, but, I'm not sure—"

"For fuck's sake," Ben reached over and took Geoff's hand, "he isn't hitting on you. He's offering you a job."

"B-But I haven't auditioned." It couldn't be this easy, right? They'd make me read and then—

"You just did. You don't have a lot of lines, anyway. You're only there to look pretty." Ben sighed like this was obvious.

Ouch. Also, fair. This could be Rory's and my foot in the door. Because of my limitations I'd never sought the Hollywood dream, though maybe . . . I must have looked uncertain because Geoff grinned, reminding me of a shark.

"This will be an excellent opportunity for your friend. As I said, Mr. McMahon is talented. Not much the leading man type, is he? Of course, this film has the potential to change that." Geoff left if I cooperated unsaid.

My jaw ticced. This is why Hollywood sucked. Everyone was so nice until they weren't. I'd never let Rory down. He deserved this chance. And if my brother-from-another-mother showed the world what he had to offer, there'd be no stopping him. He only needed to wiggle his foot in the door before he'd bust it open. If I could help with that . . . and maybe even squeeze through the door myself? No brainer.

I forced myself to stop grinding my teeth, even managed a slight smile. "Great. We'll let you get with Sheila, then."

And just like that, the deed was done.