Complicated
Complicated Copyright © 2014, Megan Slayer
For MP…you said I could do it, so I did
Also Available from Resplendence Publishing
www.resplendencepublishing.com
Complicated
By Megan Slayer
Resplendence Publishing
R·>♦<·P
www.resplendencepublishing.com
Gems of Romantic Fiction
Complicated
Copyright © 2014, Megan Slayer
Edited by Michele Paulin and CJ Slate
Cover Art by Kris Norris
Published by Resplendence Publishing, LLC
1093 A1A Beach Blvd, #146
St. Augustine, FL 32080
Electronic format ISBN: 978-1-60735-801-5
Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
Electronic Release: August 2014
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.
Finding the love of your life is hard, especially when you’re young and in the movies.
Jonathan Reynolds came to Cleveland, Ohio to break into the movies. He might not have the most orthodox methods, but he’s got the drive. He wants to be a star and shed his small town image. He’s no kid, although at twenty-one, he’s not very experienced. He’s happy with only having a few lines during a crowd scene—until he meets Sean Banks. Maybe it’s time for this virgin to come of age.
Sean Banks has been there, done that—on everything. The former child star grew up in the glare of the spotlight and beat his addiction to drugs and alcohol. But at twenty-four, he’s considered all washed up. He knows the role in this high budget action picture will catapult him back into the spotlight. He’s not ready to open his heart again, until he sees Jonathan. The young man captivates him. Can the jaded former star and the up-and-coming actor find common ground and passion between the sheets? Or will their love be relegated to the silver screen?
For MP…you said I could do it, so I did
To JPZ …you’re a rock. Thanks.
Chapter One
“I’m in a movie.” Jonathan Reynolds rubbed his hands on his jeans legs. In his twenty-one years, he’d never imagined he’d actually make it into a movie. He lived in small town Ohio. Nothing ever happened, and hardly anyone ever made it out—except him. He refused to believe everyone had to stay in Lakeland. He needed freedom or at least to be out of the microscope. The townspeople talked, and he tended to be one of the topics of conversation. Mary Reynolds’ kid was gay. Jonathan didn’t care. Hell, he’d known who he was at the age of fifteen. Now, he was done with college and ready to start his life.
He strode up to the gates circling the temporary lot in downtown Cleveland. The movies had come back to Cleveland, and he insisted on getting in on the action.
“Pass card?” the guard asked. He waved his fingers. “Only people with pass cards are allowed on the lot.”
Jonathan fumbled in his pockets. He’d left the card in his wallet. Now…where was his wallet. Shit. “I know I had it.” He slipped his hand into his back pocket. There it was. Thank God. “Here.”
The guard swiped the card through the slot. When the light blinked green, the gate opened. He nodded and allowed Jonathan passage. “Report to makeup. They aren’t doing the main crowd scenes until after lunch. Plenty of time for the girls to get you powdered or whatever they do.”
“Thanks?” Jonathan stepped through the barred gate and onto the square. He’d been to Cleveland plenty of times and walked the length of Public Square on more than one occasion, but today the congestion of the city busses and foot traffic wasn’t there. The busses had German printing on them. People were gathered on the lawn. Some wore military uniforms of camouflage green and others dressed in navy blue police garb.
His heart raced. A movie!
Who would’ve thought Jonathan Reynolds, the town’s outcast, would be in the pictures? He chuckled to himself and followed the signs to the makeup trailers. He doubted he’d need much makeup to wander around then run with a group of people supposedly fleeing the wrath of the antagonist.
“He’ll save us,” Jonathan mumbled, practicing his lines. “He always does.”
He still wasn’t sure who the
he
referred to as he hadn’t been given the entire script. He’d been told what day to show up and what time. Otherwise, he had no clue who the hero would be or how the movie even ended.
Across the street, he noticed a group of maybe five or six guys gathered. Most of them looked the same, but one caught his attention. Sean Banks. Holy hell. The man was fine and the feature of all Jonathan’s fantasies. He’d expect to see Sean surrounded by an army of hangers-on. Guys like him, movie stars, probably weren’t allowed to be alone. Would Sean look over at him? Would he even notice him?
Jonathan snorted. Who was he kidding? He twisted the knob on the trailer door and headed into the makeup building. One of the women grabbed his arm.
“We’ve got another one.” She snatched the card from his hand and swiped it through the machine before handing the card back to him. “I’m telling you. These cards were the best invention. We know what scene you’re in and how long we have until you’re on. Sit over there.” She directed him across the room to a row of makeup chairs. “He needs the shine taken off and some definition around his eyes.” She flicked his hair off his forehead. “The hair is good as-is. I can’t wait until Victor sees him.”
“Victor? As in Tony Victor, the director?” Jonathan glanced over at the girl. He’d blurted out his question, but he still couldn’t believe he’d be working with Tony Victor.
“Who else?” She crinkled her nose. “Close your eyes, and we’ll have you done right up. Won’t take long.”
She hadn’t been kidding. In less than ten minutes, he was shellacked with some sort of powder that felt as if someone had frozen his face in place. He looked at himself in the mirror. She’d ringed his eyes with liner, but instead of looking thick, the dark makeup simply enhanced his lashes. He actually looked kind of sexy.
“I like it.” Sean appeared over Jonathan’s shoulder. He winked then made his way past Jonathan to a door at the far end of the room.
Jonathan’s gaze switched between the makeup girl and where Sean had been standing. Sean Banks had spoken to him. Sean Banks. The guy he’d crushed on for pretty much his entire life. Sean-fucking-Banks.
“Seriously? You’re going to fall for him, too?” The girl rested her hands on her hips. “He’s the world’s worst player. He’s got a boyfriend everywhere. Don’t mix yourself up with him.” She shrugged. “He’s not worth your time.”
Jonathan wanted to believe the woman. He really did. But he’d wanted Sean for a long time. He knew better than to think Sean would actually do anything with him. Christ, she was right. Guys like Sean had lots of men ready and willing to do whatever they wanted. Jonathan would only be filler.
“Okay, honey. You’re done. You’ll be on the east stretch of Roadway, between the statuary. Good luck.” She grinned and patted him on the shoulder. “Next.”
Jonathan vacated the chair and made his way across the square to the assigned spot. The street signs had been changed. No one would believe Routes 42 and 6 went through Germany, especially not with the signs in the shape of the state of Ohio. Large green-screen panels had been set up, probably to add in scenery that couldn’t be replicated for the actual set.
Other extras had already gathered on Roadway so he joined the growing crowd. A man wearing a headset and dressed in a black T-shirt and jeans strolled up to the group.
“Here’s the deal. We’re going to run through the scene once with cues. Pay attention. We’ll then go through it again, just like it’s being filmed. You’ve got two tries. You screw it up, and there are a hundred other people here to replace you. Got it? Where are my people with lines?”
Jonathan worked his way through the crowd. “I’m right here. Thank you.”
The director frowned at him. “I haven’t done anything yet.”
Jonathan clasped his hands together. He bowed his head. He’d been taught manners. Always say please and thank you.
“Just go over there and stand near the front of the group.” The director shook his head. “Amateurs.”
“Yes, sir.” Jonathan stepped back into the group, sticking near the fringe. His first major stab at acting for a movie, and he’d already screwed up.
“It’s not that bad.” The guy next to him shrugged. “Tony’s been difficult with everyone today. I did the earlier group shot, and he spent the entire time pissed off.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Michael. You are?”
“Jonathan. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Ooh and he’s got manners.” Michael grinned. His gaze swept over Jonathan. “We’re having a party over at the Brewsky House. Care to join us? A little extras’ party. Something to celebrate our jobs?”
“Sure. What time?”
“When this is all over for the day. Like, five-ish.” Michael grinned again. “Looks like Tony’s ready to teach us lugs.”
Jonathan listened every word from Tony. He ran through the short scene without incident. His acting coach would’ve given him a passing grade for following directions, anyway. Running didn’t require a whole lot of acting, but whatever.
“Okay, we’re going to run this again, but I need the close-ups. You know who you are.” Tony waggled his fingers. “Front and center.”
Jonathan and another man stood in front of the group.
“Remember your lines? First, we’re shooting you.” Tony grabbed the other guy from the group. “You’ve got one word. Say it right, and we’re good. Got it? Ready?”
Jonathan ran for a fourth time, making sure to keep his actions as similar as possible. When the director yelled cut, he paused and awaited new directions.
“You.” Tony pointed at Jonathan. “Here’s the thing. You’re the love interest of the sidekick. That’s who you’re talking about. Clayton will save everyone. I want to hear passion when you say it. Like you really believe Clayton will rescue all of you.”
Jonathan closed his eyes. He focused on what he had to say. The love interest for Clayton…cool. A thought dawned on him. Clayton? That was Sean’s part. Holy shit. Act like Sean was his boyfriend? Oh hell yeah, he could do that. He opened his eyes. “Ready.”
The camera man brought the camera in close. “Action.”
Jonathan started running. He glanced over his shoulder. “He’ll save us. He always does.” He glanced back one more time. “Don’t fail us now.” He kept running, as directed, but internally, chided himself. Shit. He wasn’t supposed to say that extra part. He wasn’t even sure where the next line had come from.
“Cut.” The camera stopped rolling, and the director stepped from behind the massive machine. “Boyfriend kid. Come here.”
Jonathan’s heart sank. He’d certainly end up on the cutting room floor now. He made his way past the camera to the director. “Yes, sir.”
“That extra line wasn’t in the script.” He folded his arms. “Was it?”
“No, sir. I’m sorry. I got caught up.” Jonathan kept his gaze low. He’d be fired for sure.
“That worked. I’m keeping it—for now.” He handed Jonathan a card. “Bring this back tomorrow. I’ve got a part I need filled and you’re the one for it.” He strolled away, leaving Jonathan speechless.
“Thank you,” Jonathan called. He stared at the card. A pass for the rest of the week. If he had the pass for five days, they’d need him at least one of those days. He’d get paid for a second day. Score. He might actually make the rent money this month.
“Tomorrow. How cool is that?” Michael slapped Jonathan hard on the back. “I’d say you can pay tonight, but we don’t get squat until the end of the shoot.”
“So I’m told.” He slipped the card into his wallet. “Where is this bar?”
Michael paused. “You’ve got manners. You’re a decent guy.”
“You got all that from my acting?”
“No.” Michael narrowed his eyes. “You’re so going to get destroyed in this business.”
“Maybe.” Probably but he wouldn’t tell his fellow extra that.
“Let’s go. The bar calls.” Michael grabbed Jonathan’s arm and tugged him across the makeshift lot to the gates.
Fifteen minutes later, Jonathan stood, with beer in hand, in the middle of a dank bar. He’d expected the Brewery to be something less…smoky. Oh well. He sipped the beer, not really liking the tart brew. The conversation left something to be desired, too. Some of the extras had hooked up and coupled off. As per normal, he stood alone.