Hello, my name is Alan Smith. I work as a casting agent for the Walt Disney Company. The studio had just green-lighted a project dubbed "What You Mean To Me". My job as the head casting agent was to seek out potential performers to act in the film.
The character Bruce was especially difficult to cast. Filming had already started before I laid my eyes on Christopher Wilde. He was exactly what I needed. Charming. Witty. Sarcastic. I thought he would be perfect for the role. So I emailed Sherry and Daniel (Christopher's manager and parents) and told them my offer.
They were absolutely ecstatic. They agreed immediately and invited me over for an interview.
So I drove over to the Wilde's unbelievably large estate. Sherry opened the door and greeted me. Personally, I don't like people who suck up like that – especially parents.
"Sherry! Daniel! Great place you got here," I said, observing the living room.
"Oh, it's actually Christopher's. We just kinda work here," Daniel replied.
I smiled. What the hell. What kind of parents gives their kid their own house at seventeen years of age.
"All right," I replied, still smiling. I held out my hand to Christopher (who suddenly appeared out of nowhere) and he shook it. "Christopher Wilde, my two daughters are big fans of yours."
I took my eyes of Christopher and scanned the room again. "Wow," I uttered. "This is great! I love this!" I pointed to a series of posters that showed Christopher jumping while playing the guitar. Very professional room design, I must say.
"Rock and roll! Hello Cleveland!" I must say, if my daughters were here, they'd be embarrassed.
"All right. Let's get right to the point. Let's get right to it," I began. I pointed to Christopher. "I've been watching you. And...I like what I see. You are a talented, talented kid."
I turned towards Christopher's parents. "He's a talented kid," I repeated.
"You sing, you dance, I hope you can act," I started. "Because I like you for this movie."
Sherry squealed like a little girl. I don't really like her.
Christopher looked at me. "Thank you sir, I mean, coming from you...i-it's such an honor, I mean, to be working with someone like you..."
I interrupted Christopher with a disappointed nod. "But my people don't necessarily agree with me. What they see is a spoiled punk who likes to tangle with the paparazzi," I said, holding up the cover of today's Starstruck magazine. I'm personally starting to agree with them, what with seeing this house that Christopher owns and the particular actions of his parents. I didn't say that out loud, of course.
Daniel stood up, and was quick to defend Christopher. "Alan, you know how the tabloids are. They are quick to manipulate those photos-"
I interrupted him. "Daniel, I-I get it." I told him. He had a point. "Look, all I'm sayin' kid, is that a chance like this comes along once in a lifetime and I wanna give you a shot, but you have to prove that you're a serious and committed actor."
"How do I do that?" Christopher asked. I looked at his face. I think the stress may be starting to get to him already.
"On Monday, I'm going to meet with my people, trying to sell them on you," I explained, pointing at Christopher again. "In the meantime, you keep your face out of the tabloids. No press. Good, or bad. Okay?"
Christopher nodded. "I can do that."
"In fact, stay home," I added.
Christopher and his parent-managers nodded and stood up, shaking my hand. "All right, sir, I appreciate it," Christopher told me.
I really hoped Chris could do this. I really did. But he was still a kid, and that was very much apparent during the meeting. But against my better judgment, I decided to give him a shot. Sometimes, I felt as if he didn't really want to do this – that it was his parents pushing him to sign on to the movie deal.
He kept his promise for a day. No sign of him on the tabloid press. Just a brief announcement on Starstruck News that he was singing at Alexis Bender's birthday party and some codswallop about a girl. I was at the party, and there was no girl.
But I was wrong. Apparently, there was.
A few days later, I got an email from one of my paparazzi stalkers. Attached were pictures of this girl. Jessica Olson. There were also pictures of Jessica and Christopher touring Los Angeles together.
I rubbed my temples and sighed. My people were right. This kid wasn't ready to do this movie.
I printed out a copy of Jessica Olson, picked up the phone, and dialed Christopher. When he picked up, a shoved the picture in front of the camera. "Jessica Olson," I said, bluntly. "Such a nice name for a nice girl." I sighed.
"Where'd you get that?" Christopher asked, accusingly.
"Where'd you think I got it, Christopher?" I asked, shaking the picture. Libby Lam has had a whole fleet of photographers on you for the past two days."
"I know, but..." Christopher replied. "I was so careful."
I shook my head, letting out all my concerns. "You see, this is exactly the kind of thing I was afraid of with you, kid! I mean, y-you're obviously not serious about doing this movie thing. I dunno, maybe you're just too young."
"No sir," Christopher quickly said, then sighed. "Look, I made a mistake."
"Come on. Alan. Give us a chance to fix this!" Sherry replied in her very whiny tone.
"Guh," I replied, taking off my glasses and rubbing my nose. "All right, all right. Make the story go away," I said simply.
"How do we do that?" Daniel inquired.
"You call Libby Lam. You offer her an exclusive. You tell her you don't know this girl, you say she's just some fan whose following you around all day."
"You want me to lie?" Christopher asked.
I groaned. "Christopher! This is the tabloid press dude, this is not the Supreme Court! Say whatever you have to say. Because I promise you, either this girl goes away, or the movie does," I emphasized, holding up the picture of Jessica Olson.
"Okay?"
Christopher stared at the picture for a long time. Then slowly, reluctantly, he nodded. I swallowed and licked my lips. I really felt sorry for the kid. He was overreaching himself.
I slid back and said my farewells, disconnecting the connection. I spun around in my swivel chair. This could get messy.
I turned on the television set to Starstruck News. As I anticipated, there was an emergency interview broadcast regarding Christopher Wilde.
"So, we're talking about this girl, Jessica Olson," Libby Lam said.
"Okay," Christopher replied nervously. I stared intently, glued to the screen.
"Do you know her?" I gritted my teeth. Come on, Chris, you can do it.
"No," Christopher replied, shaking his head. I blinked. Good job.
"So, you're telling me you don't know this girl."
"Uh, ya. Look, I dunno what she's saying about me, but I don't know anybody named Jessica Olson. Sorry, Libby, but there's nothing more to tell."
Libby turned and looked straight at me through the screen. "Okay. "You heard it first here. I'm Libby Lam, and this is Starstruck News." The show then cut to commercial.
I turned off the TV and clapped my hands together. "Congratulations, Christopher, you got the movie," I whispered to myself.
The next day, I was on set, filming the "kiss in the rain" scene, when Christopher came up to me.
"Christopher!" I laughed, shaking his hand enthusiastically. "Great news," I told him. "You're in. Rehearsals start Monday."
"Uhm...actually, I'm not available Monday," Christopher said.
"Not a problem, we'll change the date."
"No, I came to say: Thanks for the offer, but no thanks. If I have to lie to be in your little club, then I think I'll pass."
I was surprised at this little statement. This film has an all-star cast and a multi-award winning director. I couldn't fathom why he would pass. Except that maybe that girl meant more to him than I thought.
He nodded at me, smiled, then turned around and left.
I watched him go, then returned to me seat. "Wow," I said, pointing at Christopher and talking to nobody in particular. "Kid's got fire. Edge. I like that."
So that's that. I never met Christopher Wilde again, though I did read Libby Lam's little book. It was very interesting, and after reading it, I experienced a series of flashbacks. I felt guilty for my treatment of Christopher, and I'm pretty sure the studio execs feel the same way.
I set Libby Lam's book down on a coffee table and plucked a Hot Cheeto in my mouth. I did find a replacement for Christopher Wilde. His name is Zac Efron. He was dating Alexis Bender at the time, and they broke it off so he could be in the movie.
Sometimes I wonder – why is it that everything I do interferes with these relationships? At that moment, I made a vow to never work with child actors again. It was simply too difficult.
Please R&R. Another one of my Sarstruck series.
