12. Dane

12

DANE

L ike many people, I’ve heard the tales of woe from some movie actor about how hard it is to sit still for hours while they apply makeup and prosthetics. Unlike those celebrities, however, I’ve been trained to sit very still for very, very long periods of time. To ignore things like sharp rocks jabbing through my fatigues, or a persistent gnat trying to climb into my ear canal.

My ability to be still as a stone evidently impresses Selene. So much so at one point that she pokes me with her nail until I yelp.

“Ow, what the Hell?”

“Sorry, just seeing if you were still awake. Or alive. I’ve never seen anyone be so perfectly still in my life.”

“I guess I’m more disciplined than most of the people who sit in this chair.”

She gives me a look, but her smile is mostly amused rather than annoyed.

“And you’re humble, too. Now close your mouth, I need to add some more detail to this hole in your jawline.”

I do as I’m told. This is her wheelhouse, I’m just an extra. At first, I was worried about this process. If I’m sitting down, often with my eyes closed, how can I keep her safe ?

Then I realized Selene was right. The security was tighter than any I’d ever seen in my life. Not that Moreno and his boys couldn’t still get in, but they’d be very unlikely to make a move on Selene while she’s on the studio lot.

So I try to mix vigilance with being a good subject for Selene’s artistic talents. From time to time, I’ve been looking at myself in the mirror, and at first I didn't think I looked much like a zombie at all.

Now, though, the character is really coming to life. Unless I look for the specific places where I know the rubber applications are adhered to my skin, I can’t tell it’s not for real.

“Try not to move your face too much for the next five minutes or so,” Selene says as she sets her paintbrush down. “After that, everything should be set and you’ll be able to go full Jim Carrey if you want to.”

“I don’t think I can stretch my face quite that much.”

“You won’t have to. Now, have you ever done any acting before?”

I start to smile, then remember I have to keep my face relatively still.

“Does a walk-on role in a high school play to impress the head cheerleader count?”

“Not really. Okay, here’s the most important thing: When the director says action, you act, and you go all in until he yells ‘cut.’ That means you don’t stop even if things are going horrifically wrong. Like if you fall or something, or part of your prosthetics fall off. They’ll fix it in editing, but they can’t fix anything if you break character and ruin the scene.”

“Okay. Action means we begin the scene, and I won’t stop until the director yells ‘cut.’ I think I can handle that.”

“We’ll see,” she says, a grin creeping across her face. “All right, get up out of that chair and let me see how you shamble.”

“Shamble?”

“You know, like a member of the living dead.” She adopts a stiff body pose and groans, shuffling forward while dragging one leg behind her. “Remember, your body is supposed to be rotting, so it doesn’t work as well as it’s supposed to. ”

“All right.”

I rack my brain and try to think of all the zombies I’ve seen in movies and such. I haven’t really ever sat down and watched an entire episode or film, but I’m pretty sure I get the general gist.

I stiffen up and shuffle along, letting out a groan as I do so. Selene cups her chin in her hand and narrows her eyes, watching me with inscrutable energy.

After a few times back and forth in front of her, I kind of get self-conscious. I mean, do I suck at being a zombie or what? Finally, I can’t stand it anymore and I break character, standing up straight and facing her.

“How was that?”

She takes a deep breath and shakes her head.

“Dane…” she says with a long sigh. “You might be the best fucking zombie I’ve ever seen.”

I stare for a moment to see if she’s joking. I don’t think that she is.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious. It’s not just because you’re huge, either. You’ve got that ‘it’ factor.”

“Or maybe deep down, I’ve always seen myself as a zombie,” I say.

She snorts with laughter. “Oh god…just, just sit down until they call for you and try not to mess up all of my hard work.”

“Um, it’s been hours, can I drink in this thing?”

“Yeah, but use a straw.”

She snaps up a can of soda from the cooler and pops the tab before thrusting a straw through the oval opening. I take it from her hands, mesmerized by the details on my zombie limbs. Even up close, her work holds up very well.

I discover something about the film industry that it has very much in common with the war business: Hurry up and wait. Either Selene is running around like a madwoman trying to do ten things at once or she’s stuck waiting.

“I never realized how many people it takes to make a TV show,” I say, marveling at the massive film crew. Even the photographers have assistants, and their assistants have assistants. It’s like a small army .

“Oh, this is nothing. I was on set for one of those disaster flicks, making people look like they’d been injured, and there were ten times the amount of crew.”

“Jesus Christ. How do you keep them all off camera?”

“The magic of Hollywood,” she says with a wink. “That, and lots of editing. The last thing you want is a coffee cup left on a table somewhere so the internet can mock you for the next ten years.”

A bell rings and someone bellows for everyone to get in their places. Selene slaps me on the ass hard enough that I flinch.

“All right, break a leg.”

I join the ‘horde of the undead.’ A lot of the extras are giving me dirty looks. This is their time to shine, and now some outsider is getting a crack at what they do for a living. I used to get the same feeling when the Navy would bring in civilian contractors to tell us how to do our jobs.

“Action!”

I instantly shamble along with the others. I fucked up my leg pretty bad when I fell out of a tree stand once, so I draw on that experience to ‘lock’ my joints and move like a living dead type of person.

“Get me a tight shot of that big fucking zombie,” the director says, and one of the boom cameras lowers down and gets within a foot of me. I almost look right at it before I remember myself. I continue to stagger along as if the camera’s not there.

Well, if the extras aren’t pissed already, they certainly are now. I can’t help it if I’m naturally good at this. I actually kind of enjoy it. Who would have thought? Maybe I missed my calling.

Shooting the scene, which is going to be about a sixty-second to ninety-second bit on the actual show, takes hours. It seems like a monstrous amount of work to do for such a small amount of footage, but everyone acts as if it’s all normal.

Eventually, the cast and crew warm up to me. I guess I really am good at being a zombie. They even invite me along for a get-together after the shoot ends after midnight.

“I don’t think we should go,” I whisper in Selene’s ear. “The studio lot is plenty secure, but that might not be the case for this party. ”

Selene sighs, and I can see the disappointment welling up in her eyes.

“All right, if you really think so. But we’re having it at Dave’s house, which is in a gated community and sits behind a twelve-foot fence.”

“Selene,” I say with an exasperated sigh. “I’ve been more than fair. But this is a bridge too far. It’s just not safe.”

“But this is important. In my line of work, I need to find new gigs, and I can’t do that if I don’t network. It’s not just a party to have fun, it’s vital to my career.”

“You know what would be really detrimental to your career? Dying.”

Selene sighs. “Can you at least ask your boss what he thinks?”

I start to retort that he’s not my boss, I’m not a member of the firm, but the words die in my throat.

“All right, fair enough.”

I send a text off to Jax. His response is one I should have predicted.

The customer is King. Or in this case Queen. Unless you can see a clear and present danger, take her to the damn party, Dane.

“Looks like we’re going to the party,” I say. Selene’s face lights up. “But, the same rules apply at the party as apply here on the studio lot.”

“Sir, yes, Sir,” she says, snapping off a salute at totally the wrong angle, with the wrong hand, but I don’t think it’s a good time to tell her. “You can boss me around all you want.”

Her eyes widen. “I mean, as my bodyguard, to keep me safe,” she says quickly. “Not that I’m kink shaming…you know what? Let’s just go to the party.”

When we arrive at Dave’s, the executive producer’s house, it indeed seems secure enough. I check the perimeter and eyeball everyone I don’t recognize from the lot anyway.

“Damn, that’s an impressive spread,” I say, nodding to the buffet table. “It’s hard to believe that this got thrown together at the last minute. ”

“Welcome to Hollywood,” she says with a snicker. “Trust me, this is nothing. If he really wanted to impress us he’d bring out the five K a pop cans of caviar.”

“You know,” I say after a chuckle, “I’ve never had caviar. Jax’s wife Easton tried to pawn some off on me at a house party, but it looked like little turds to be honest.”

“Gross,” Selene says, rolling her eyes. “I bet I can get you to try caviar before the end of the week.”

“You might lose your money.”

Her brows climb high on her face. Then she gets a wicked grin and leans in close to whisper.

“I don’t think you understand how…persuasive I can be.”

She turns around and greets one of her coworkers, coincidentally brushing her generous bottom against my crotch. Damn it, I’m trying to keep my distance from her, at least emotionally. Why does she have to make it so damn hard?

One of my fellow zombie actors comes up to me while Selene is distracted. He takes a canapé and shoves the whole thing into his mouth, then speaks while chewing.

“So, how long have you and Selene been an item?”

I brush the crumbs off my sleeve and give him a look.

“We’re not an item. I’m her bodyguard.”

“Oh, is that what the kids are calling it these days?” he says, giving me a wink. “Say no more, nudge nudge, am I right?”

No, you couldn’t be more wrong, but I smile and try to be polite. I don’t want to fuck up Selene’s relationship with her coworkers.

He’s not the only one. Literally every person I speak to assumes that I’m Selene’s boyfriend. One of them even thinks I’m her husband until I correct him. Guilt stemming from several sources worms its way into my conscious thoughts.

I know I shouldn’t have slept with Selene. I knew it at the time, too, but I just couldn’t help myself. There’s something about her. Something that intoxicates me and makes me want to forget about consequences. But all I’ve got to do is think of Klaus and know that there’s no such thing as forgetting the consequences. Sooner or later, they always catch up to you.

As the moon dips low in the sky and the first pink inklings of dawn form on the horizon, I head out onto the second floor balcony, making sure I have a visual on the entrances and exits. No one’s getting in or out without me knowing about it. The doors swing shut behind me and I’m blessed with quiet. The morning birds are already up and at it, chirping away in their recurring symphony.

The cheerfulness of their cries juxtaposes the darkness inside of me. What was I thinking, getting involved with Selene? It’s just going to hurt her. Probably me, too, since I like her so damn much. I have to cut myself off from her, though, for both of our sakes.

The doors open behind me and I know it’s Selene without turning around to look. She joins me at the balcony railing, staring up at me for a moment before turning back to look at the ocean.

“Hey,” she says. “You disappeared.”

“Just needed some fresh air.”

Selene stares at me again, and then sighs.

“Are you mad at me, Dane?”

“No.”

I’m not really mad at her, but the flat note of denial in my voice indicates otherwise. I didn’t intend it to come out so harsh and petulant, but it did anyway.

Selene’s lips twitch. “Okay,” she says. “But it kind of seems like you’re at least irritated with me.”

“I’m not. I’m just tired.”

“If you’d stayed in bed instead of hiding from me, you wouldn’t be tired now.”

I turn a sharp glance her way.

“I wasn’t hiding from you, I was making sure the compound remained secure.”

Even as the words leave my mouth, I know they’re lies. Why did I even say that? Worse, my irritability makes me double down on it.

“I don’t run and I don’t hide.”

Selene stiffens up and turns toward the door .

“I see. Sorry to bother you, fearless Sailor. I’ll just be inside if you need me. Not that you do or anything.”

I turn to watch her leave. I want to do something, say something, that will make this all better.

But my mouth remains closed as she slips back into the party, leaving me alone in the dark.