Chapter 1
There was supposed to be a “meeting” in my company that day. The night before that, my manager called me. I could sense the excitement in his voice, which he tried hard to conceal. A new project, he said. A big one so I shouldn’t say no.
I was in the running for a lead role and the script was adapted from a famous novel written by an author who never once showed herself to the world. My excited manager told me this was a great opportunity to prove my “acting range.” Though I had to audition for this specific role, with my popularity, I might not have to.
I covered the receiver and took a deep breath. He was listing down the reasons why declining this casting offer would be sheer idiocy. He understood I needed rest, but one more movie shouldn’t hurt, right? I half-listened, half-stared at the colorful magnets placed in every direction on my silver fridge. Just then, the wind chimes hung around a nearby window started clanging.
It’s not that I’m the best actor of my generation, but the first project given to me was a lead role with another actor and it blew up in Asia, catapulting me into “instant stardom” - for lack of a better word. The last two years were busy, productive but also exhausting. So successful was my first TV show that the producers decided to renew it for a second season just to appease a dedicated fandom. Quite an achievement for a guy in his early 20s, if I say so myself, but I was determined to take a breather after the show runs its course.
But I never did.
Photoshoots, fan meetings, variety show guestings, product endorsements, media interviews, event appearances, social media obligations - I was booked, busy and beyond tired. But I was also thankful and didn’t want to disappoint. I had not complained once nor declined an offer. I simply wanted some time to process everything happening in my life since entering show business. A month or so of rest would have been enough.
My agency had other plans, however, and if you have less than 3 years of experience in showbiz, you’re basically still a rookie. With that in mind, I had to kill my yearning for a vacation.
“Okay, whatever. Sign me up,” I said to my manager.
“Awesome, Wei. You’re the best!” He hung up. I threw my phone on the bean bag across my bed and spent one more hour in quiet reverie before hitting the sack.
The sun greeted me the next day. Its rays slithering through a crack between a pair of silver curtains. I squinted, raising my right forearm to shield my eyes. And then I remembered the meeting and heaved a deep sigh. I did nothing but sigh these days.
Mechanically, I got up and went to shower. I let the hot water trickle all over my body, from the face to the torso to the lower limbs. As water splashed loudly on the bathroom floor, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. This tall, dark-haired fellow with deep-set eyes looked good. He lived his recent years on the screen that he probably forgot what’s it like to live in reality.
Moments passed and I found myself already dressed, the usual white shirt, jeans and designer sneakers from my sponsors, and driving on the freeway. How I got to my company building in my absent-minded state would probably remain a mystery to me. Anyhow, I arrived on time without any major mishap.
I wasn’t in the mood for breakfast but I dropped by the canteen on the second floor and grabbed an energy drink and rice burger. I ate hurriedly. The meeting would start anytime soon. As I finished the last of my brunch, I heard a distant shout.
“Wei!” I turned around and saw a lanky guy in all-black street attire walking towards my direction.
It was Jin. A senior actor in the same agency as mine. He had been in the biz way longer than me, acting since his late teens and now, in his mid-20s, starring in heavy dramas and quirky TV shows. He’s a pure talent who could switch between support and leading roles with ease.
“Hey, Jin!” I greeted him with the honorifics traditionally accorded to people who are older in age.
“You’ve been casted too? Wow, this will be our first movie together!” I bowed when he reached me, as is customary.
“They gave me the offer last-minute but I’m not sure what role I’ll be taking on yet,” I said, trying to hide the exhaustion from my voice. I sounded pitchy, so I coughed a bit and took a swig of the energy drink I bought earlier.
“Doesn’t matter. I’m just happy to be working with you,” said Jin. He placed an arm over my shoulders and semi-dragged me to the elevator.
“You know where the meeting is?” I asked.
“Yep. 14th floor, so you’re coming with me.” He said confidently.
I already knew - well, everyone knew - Jin was bisexual. He was comfortable with both men and women and even played a lead role in a popular Boys’ Love television series. If I were a prejudiced human being, I’d think he was hitting on me. But I knew better and didn’t mind him being all touchy-feely. That’s just Jin being Jin and in our nearly 3 years of friendship, he never crossed the line.
We waited for the elevator. When it opened, three more colleagues were already there - Plen, Cai and Aran. They were up-and-coming heartthrobs known for their flower boy looks. All three were younger and shorter than me and Jin. Sporting polo shirts in different colors, they greeted us with a bow and smiled widely.
“Got casted as well?” Jin asked as we stepped inside the elevator and the doors closed behind us.
“We’re not sure, but they told us to join the meeting,” said Aran, the trio’s unofficial representative. The other two scooted over to give us space. Jin acknowledged them with a nod.
We couldn’t talk long. The elevator started moving up and then halted on the 5th floor. A woman with long reddish curls and distinctive winged eyeliners entered quietly. Her sleeveless dark green turtleneck dress and black velvety shoulder bag complimented her striking looks. The elevator door closed again with a lurch and some seconds passed in total, slightly awkward silence.
“What’s your name?” Jin suddenly asked the woman, breaking the silence like a knife cutting through ice. The three newbies exchanged surprised glances. I remained poker-faced. This was Jin after all and he never holds back.
A few more seconds of silence, the woman turned her head to face Jin. She looked around and saw us looking at her. Her brows creased. She was clearly bewildered by the question.
“Yes, you, beautiful lady. What’s your name?” Jin repeated.
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand.” She said in perfect English.
“Umm…” Jin, whose English skills are somewhat skewed, narrowed his eyes at me and subtly gestured towards the woman. He dug his own grave but there’s me to the rescue.
“Your name?” I reiterated Jin’s question in English. My accent was still off but I could speak the language fluently. Jin smiled widely at her, trying to hide his embarrassment.
Just then the elevator reached the 12th floor and stopped.
“Nameless,” she said without looking back at us. The elevator doors opened and she smoothly stepped out, her red curls bouncing with her strides. I saw someone approach her.
“Trinh! There you are!” And the elevator doors completely shut.
The building was sixteen storeys high and from what I remembered, on the 12th floor was my company’s publishing subsidiary. My agency was also an entertainment subsidiary of a bigger company, which owned the entire building. Was she our colleague after all? Actors rarely had anything to do with our company’s publishing arm unless we played characters from an adapted work and a meticulous author wanted to hand-pick actors to see if they’re compatible with their roles.
Jin shook his head as if he had just woken up from a nightmare.
“Why is our agency not offering English classes?” He looked at me, frowning. I chuckled.
“What’s her name?” Jin asked.
“Nameless,” I said.
The elevator stopped again with the voice prompt reminding us we’re now on the 14th floor.
“What? Is that a name?”
“Who knows.”
The trio excused themselves and went ahead of us. Jin and I walked to our manager’s office. I wondered if he knew she was mocking him. The guy would feel offended his charms were ignored.
“Okay, have a seat first. I’ll brief you quickly since the novel’s author will be here any minute,” said our manager as soon as he saw us enter his office.
Jin and I nodded without any questions asked.
“Here are copies of the script and the translated version of the original novel. I’m sure you’re already aware this is a family drama with some romance and thriller here and there.” He handed us our scripts and individual copies of the novel. I surveyed my copy and it wasn’t as thick as I thought it would be. Give or take about 200 pages.
“Familiarize, you know the drill. Script reading will be within a month. Character assignments by the end of this week. She didn’t really care who plays who but the director is ambitious and wants a box office hit. He needs her input to assemble the perfect cast.”
“Can I request for a support role?” I asked my manager, hoping he would respond in the affirmative. A supporting role would mean less screen time, fewer scenes to shoot and more breathing space, which I badly needed.
“No.” My manager scowled.
“And why? Jin could be the lead. He’s perfect.” I looked at Jin. He was pretending to study his nails. His personality may be flamboyant and loud but he wasn’t the type to argue with anyone—much less with our manager. He’s a pacifist through and through.
“This isn’t for you to decide. Jin would be playing a role fit for an experienced actor.”
Jin looked up, surprised. He obviously had no idea what role was given to him. Why was my manager adamant that I play the lead?
“But—” I was about to protest some more when the door opened and an intern told us to head for the conference room.
“No more questions. To the conference room.”
