Part 1
The champagne sparkled and bubbled in the glass as Mason lazily stared at it. There was a group of people around him, strangers with familiar faces. They were talking about pretentious topics. Throwing fake smiles at each other, perhaps because their eyes couldn’t smile due to the ungodly amount of Botox they probably pumped their faces with.
’So, Mason, is there any project on your radar? You have been MIA for half a year. You know how rough this industry is, get a move on, buddy, or they will forget who you are.’ said one of the familiar faces, his blue bulbous eyes sparkling with glee and something more sinister; it was John. A talent scout. An agent. A hawk.
Mason stared back, his brain working out a reply to the horrendous question. Did John not remember what happened 7 months ago?
It was the 20th Drudgeberry Academy Awards, Mason was nominated as Best Male Actor in a Leading role for his movie, ‘The Delayed Ant’, a thriller in which his character investigated the murder of an Indian prostitute. He had put everything into the role of a detective with a troubled past and a tendency to go into monologues about class consciousness, the deep state and institutional racism.
In preparation for the role, Mason has even gone as far as to consume the writings of Karl Marx, investigate cases such as the Epstein files, and even watch Django Unchained. The most arduous of the tasks was when he sat down with his black friend to ask, ‘What does it mean to be black?’ David had just stared back in confusion, his mouth hanging slightly open, only to catch himself a few seconds later and tell Mason that he should really try picking up a real book from time to time.
Needless to say, hehad worked hard to fill the shoes of Detective Lee. Lee had problems; he was unlike Mason. He was smart and sharp and had an alcohol problem. Jack Lee was a hardenedcop; years of service had left him disillusioned and distraught. He was mean and a loner. Mason was the star of the show; his cheeks hurt every day from how hard he smiled at everyone; he only drank one glass of anything as a rule and had a promise to himself that he would never get drunk in public.
However, Mason was an actor, and it is the job of an actor to act, self-explanatory. Mason didn’t have to be Lee to be Lee. He just had to pretend to be Lee and pretend he did. In fact, Mason pretended so hard that it became difficult to tell him apart from Lee. Mason became Lee and Lee became Mason; they wereone and the same. Some people might call this method acting, though his co-stars would call working with him torture. As previously implied, Mason had never tried this hard for a role before. So, he would show up on set, drunk. He would be cynical, mean to and ‘enlighten’ his co-stars.
During one of these ’phases’,where Mason had ceased to exist and Lee took over him. He sat down with his co-star, Yusra, who was going to be his on-screen partner in crime.
’I want to tell you something.I think itis about time people around here start taking you seriously. It is about time that our country and its people start appreciating you for all the good your kind has done for us. Withoutyou guys, who would be performing our surgeries and driving our cabs? They commit crimes against you, and wedon’teven blink an eye. I know there are factors that will always work against you because we live in a system which is embedded with deep inequalities, but be brave, my friend. I will simply not stand by while people come up to you and ask you what your favourite curry is. They shouldn’t assume you are a curry eater just because you are brown, you could be a shawarma eater as well.’
Yusra blinked her big brown eyes back at him and said, ’You are an actor, Mason, it really isn’t That deep. Also, I am Pakistani, so yes indeed I do eat curry, a lot, every day in fact.’
‘Everything is that deep, my dear....’ he paused for a second and continued, ’Yuuu-sss-raa. You don’t have to say you eat curry every day just because that is the stereotype that has been put out there to define people like you. I think you can be a Pakistani and eat foods other than curry.’
She snorted in reply, said thank you and just walked away.
Another moment came when Mason threw away the dumplings ordered by a crew member for a Chinese co-star. He called it a ’micro-aggression’.Theyweren’tvery happywhen they found out that their lunch had been thrown away in the name of racial prejudice.
Nonetheless, this was going to help him in his portrayal. He was going to be recognised. This was going to be his turning point; he was going to prove his worth as an actor.
That moment shined in front of his eyes, just out of reach, in the form of the nomination at Drudgeberry. He was sat in one of the seats in the front row, eyes shining brightly, a smile on his face. He was surrounded by other talented people, all busy chatting animatedly with each other. Mason sat beside Yusra, who was nervously shifting in her seat, she had been nominated for Best Female Actor in a Supporting Role and Mason was sure that she’d make history today by being the first Brown South Asian Pakistani to win this award.The ghost of Lee had mostly left Mason by this point, only a few remnants were left. A few whispers here and there.
It was a slow and vicious night. It was torturous, both Mason and Yusra clung to the edge of their seats in anticipation for their categories to be announced.It was nail-bitingly intense. Some formerly or currently famous person would walk on stage, say a few words, announce the winner and walk away. All the less important categories that peopledidn’tcare much about likebest documentary or best scene in a fictional land with 5 dragons and 10 scorpionsunder the bridge on top of a water bodyin a desertwere always announced first in moments like this, to keep your attention. It is best to leave the best for the last obviously.
At last, it wasalmost here. Another famous woman, aveteranactor,maybe alegend of some sorts,had walked onto stage, a card clutched in her hand.It was time to announce the best supporting actor in a female body.Heart hammering in her chest, Yusra clutched Mason’s hand hard and started whispering under her breathe. Mason hoped secretly itwasn’tsome black magic mantra she had learnt back home.
Yusra was on the verge of, quite frankly, shitting her pants or well her skirts. She had worked hard, twice as much as the man sitting next to her to be in the position she was in. It was her time to shine too, but more importantly, it was her time to prove her parents wrong. She hadplayed the Indiansidekick, and she had put her blood, sweat and tears into it. Her entire life had led up to this moment, and it was finally time to show howa career inart couldbe just as fruitful as a career as a doctor or engineer.
The glittering lady on the stage carefully opened the envelope, her nails catching the light and nearly blinding the cameras pointed at her.
In her soft and delicate voice, she said, ‘The winner for the best supporting actress is....’
Such a cruel lady she was, dragging her words to torture the 5 nominees who were clutching their pearls in anticipation, their faces plastered on the big screen. Their emotions naked to the entire world.
’......Yusra Khan for The Delayed Ant.’
Applause erupted. The cameras zoomed in on Yusra, who sat there with her mouth hanging open, breathing fast and short, on the verge of hyperventilation.Suddenly she was being forced up and into a bone-crushing hug. It was Mason with a giant smile on his face.
’Congratulations!the first Asian to win this award. How does it feel?’
She couldn’t reply, she was still in shock. She was still trying to reel back her thoughts. She won. She won. SHE WON! The realisation finally kicked in, and a soft noise left her. She felt dizzy and clutched onto Mason to balance herself on her heels.And with a quiet resolve she started her confident albeit shaky march towards the stage, a victorious smile slowly curling her lips.
She reached the stairs and started climbing on her shaky legs, and then, it happened. The worst possible thing that could happen to someone about to prove themselves. Yusra’s weak legs gave out, and she stumbled upon herself and fell sideways onto the stairs, her ribs hitting the steps hard and fast.
