Julia swiveled her body to the side, into the position she often took when walking the red carpet, and fixed her face up into a beaming smile. She held still as the moments trickled by, her eyes wide open despite the blinding flashes. Then, holding her grin despite her aching facial muscles, she waved and continued her walk, carefully lifting up her dress as not to trip over its frilly hem. The thrill of premières had long faded; they had gone from special events to just simply more work that had to be done. It was part of her job, and so she would deal with it. At first, it had been daunting and challenging- to see waves of cheering fans spread out before you, to hear the endless click of cameras and dozens of voices belonging to reporters, each attempting to capture your attention if only for a quote- but now it was simply tedious. Julia was completely used and resigned to her celebrity status. She knew exactly what to say about the film, her fellow actors, her director, and her career. She knew just how to deter paparazzi without irritating them. She knew how to subtly promote products and designer clothes without seeming overt. She could even smile continually for hours on end, although it was agonizing and after a while she would almost forget how to smile. Julia, thanks to her agent and several advisors, was an expert when it came to navigating the perilous, ever-churning waters of Hollywood. One day the media would be calling you the 'most real person in Hollywood' and the 'most beautiful woman in America', and the next they would be mercilessly tearing you into little pieces, aided by unflattering pictures and slamming headlines. Julia had always tried her best to be a boring celebrity, giving journalists nothing to latch on to. She focused on her work; she didn't do anything scandalous, and her relationships were quiet affairs. She never vied for attention as Ruby did, never lit up when she spotted her picture on a magazine or a newspaper. Regardless of this, she was the golden girl of the tabloids, who were constantly on the hunt for bits of dirt. Whether this meant digging into her family history, grilling her constantly, breaking into her dressing room- this had happened once before, and it had been a most alarming and eye-opening experience for Julia- these people would stop at almost nothing to sell a good story. And Julia hated it. She didn't hate the reporters themselves, as most of them weren't bad people. They were just people doing a job. But she hated the total lack of privacy in her life. She wished that they would all just back off and leave her alone.
"Julia! Julia!"
Julia halted, almost at the door for the theatre, readying herself for the barricade of questions soon to strike her. She smoothed back her hair and her winning smile returned. "You're from… the Hollywood Times? I'd be delighted to answer a few of your questions before the movie starts," she said calmly, radiating a friendliness and openness that didn't quite reach her heart. She had been told only to answer to the Hollywood Times.
The man looked up and Julia was pleased that she knew him; he had penned an interview of hers before. His name drifted in the back of her mind and she snatched at it. "Mr. Paddy Glynn?"
"That's me," Paddy said, his slight smirk widening as he produced a recording device. "Flattered that you remembered me, Ms. Ogden."
"How could I not? I'm an avid fan of your column, Mr. Glynn," Julia replied easily. That wasn't exactly the truth, as she had only read several of his articles, but perhaps if she softened him up, his questions would be less demanding than they could be.
She had no such luck. His eyes narrowed doubtfully, and his response was flippant. "Glad to hear it, but I'm here to hear about you, and, of course, Blood and Circuses. There have been rumors, Ms. Ogden, that you originally tried out for the lead role in this film, but were turned down in favor of Ms. Ivy Connings. Care to comment?"
Julia had been completely prepared for that question, and for the thousandth time that evening, she thanked the heavens for her very thorough agent. "I did originally audition for the main role, and I'm extremely relieved that Ivy was chosen over me. She completely made the role her own, and I can't imagine anybody else- much less myself- in the part. I won't deny that I am glad I was still able to be a part of this wonderful production, though," Julia told him steadily, not pausing once and not breaking eye contact. He blinked, and then nodded, mumbling something to himself that Julia didn't catch, and he nearly jumped three feet in the air as he was tapped on the shoulder.
Amos, over six foot tall and rippling with muscles and menace, glowered at the smaller man. "Last question," Julia's bodyguard insisted in a low, barely audible voice. Julia hid a smile as Paddy fumbled with and almost dropped his gadget. "Last- last question. Okay. All right. Um. How does it feel, being back in your home city? If I recall correctly, you were born and raised in Toronto, and spent most of your life here."
Julia didn't miss a beat. "It feels fantastic," she said, fully truthfully. "I'd just about forgotten how much I love Toronto, and Canada. I leaped for joy when I was told the première would take place here." And hit my head on the ceiling.
"Interview over," Amos growled as Paddy opened his mouth. He shuffled toward the man purposefully, and Paddy rapidly backed off, muttering a hasty farewell.
"It was nice speaking to you!" Julia called after him, and she smirked wryly at Amos. "You're getting very good at warding people off, though his questions weren't too bad."
"Easier than being a boxer," Amos responded, maintaining his protective position but his face softening from its impassive stare. "And better paid, too," he added lightheartedly.
Julia nodded. "I'll bet you were a first-class, boxer, though," she said absently, standing on her toes and peering down the carpet. She had just spotted the top-paid actress of the film, whose acting skills were worth her dollar count, followed by several of the other actors playing main roles. Ivy was easily identifiable by her striking vine tattoos and her bright red hair, tightly curled for tonight's appearance. She strode with a confidence that Julia didn't possess, not stopping for the cameras to fixate on her and with her head held high. Just behind her was beautiful supermodel-turned actress Kitty Walker, who did pause to strike a pose. Julia smiled their way, but her expression stiffened and her eyes snapped with ice as she noticed the small figure approaching. He was small, not more than eleven or twelve, but his swagger rivaled even Ivy's. Dorri Smith had played her son in the film, and Julia was ashamed to admit that the child had completely won her over. He had played the role- and well- of a sweet, innocent child actor, befuddled by life on set. She had taken him under her wing and showed him the ropes, and it was only when she had caught him stealing valuables from her trailer that she had realized what a two-faced, conniving little monster he was. Julia had wanted to go to the police about the theft, but the company had talked her out of it. They'd do anything to prevent possible bad press for their projects, and the rising star of Blood and Circuses becoming involved with the authorities was a big no-no. Dorri had sent Julia a hand-written apology and even came to her door with large, pleading eyes and a box of chocolate, but she had ignored him. She wouldn't be duped so effortlessly again.
"Calm down," Amos muttered in her ear, "you look like you're about to blow a gasket. Ignore the kid. People are noticing."
With effort, Julia composed herself enough to hug Ivy and Kitty, and managed to greet Dorri, who looked smug. "Are we ready to go in? Does anyone else need to arrive?" Ivy asked, fanning herself with a rigid piece of paper and glancing around impatiently. Julia shook her head. "Everyone else is ready. We were the last four to arrive. Even the contest-winner is already here and inside, apparently."
"Great. Let's move along. All these lights are bad for my complexion," Kitty said, instantly, stepping into the dim theatre and disappearing from sight. Julia turned her face away to hide her eye-roll from any curious paparazzi and then trailed the girl with the wary Amos in tow. The sunshine-yellow painted lobby was large and rounded; the scent of buttered popcorn hung in the air and Julia inhaled deeply as she passed the concession stand. She'd have liked to take a look around the cushioned, sofa-adjourned room, but she figured that they had already delayed the starting of the film by about ten minutes and didn't want to be a further inconvenience. The theatre itself was chilly, and Julia welcomed the drop in temperature gladly, as she was sweating a fair amount. The lights had already dimmed, and she watched her step as she picked her way along the top row toward her reserved seat beside Ivy and, to her infuriation, her pig-headed director who reeked something absolutely terrible. Grimly resigning herself to a smelly two hours, she plopped herself down into her seat, placed her hand on the side of her head and half-closed her eyes, paying little attention to the trailers that flashed across the large, projected screen at break-neck pace. After a little while, she was able to tune out all noises- and stenches- and her thoughts were able to finally return to the little scene at the local Tim Hortons. Julia tried in vain to put it to the back of her mind, as she had when readying herself for the event, but this time she was unsuccessful in her endeavor. The man she had met there, he had seemed so… so different. So familiar, in a peculiar, distant, kind of way. She knew, of course, that no matter what her instincts told her, they had never met. Julia would have known if she'd seen him before; she'd have sat up and paid attention if she had ever even once glanced upon him.
It wasn't due to his attractiveness, though he was, without a doubt, strikingly attractive. Julia had met many a handsome men over the course of her life. It was his mannerisms, the quiet way that he spoke, the measured intelligence in his dark brown eyes, even the endearing awkwardness he seemed to possess. Their conversation had been short, cut off abruptly by the one thing that always seemed to pop up and spoil the best of moments. The fact that she was world-famous Julia Ogden, the actress whose face everyone was surely tired of seeing in the magazines. Julia had betrayed her own identity in a second's slip, a split second of foolishness. She had found it far too easy to talk to him, to slip out of her 'Julia Ogden the actress' persona and become her real self. He'd realized quickly whom she was, and she had left in haste, not wanting to see his reaction or have to face- heaven forbid- a request for an autograph or a photo. That had happened several times before, leaving Julia endlessly wary. You could never tell, she thought grimly, what somebody was after once they discovered her fame and wealth.
Suddenly hot and bothered despite the coolness of the room, Julia stood up discreetly and brushed past her cast mates toward the sneaky side exit, cautious not to make even the tiniest of sounds. Many stars didn't stay for the actual viewing of the film and quietly left once the opening credits rolled, but Julia always made a point to stay, feeling as if it were impolite to disappear. She promised herself that she would return as she pushed out into the open air. "I just need a breather," Julia muttered to herself, closing the door softly behind her and leaning against the marble wall, allowing her eyelids to flutter shut.
"I needed one, too," said an unmistakable voice hesitantly, from her left.
Julia's eyes snapped open and she turned, startled, an unidentifiable feeling tightening in her belly. "I didn't see you there," she spoke feebly, her eyes quite wide. She took several seconds to compose herself, and then gave him a quizzical look. "What exactly are you doing here?"
"I won the contest," William Murdoch replied with a slight smile, "though I can't take much credit for it. My friend entered for me." He raised his eyebrows, appraising Julia. "Are you not enjoying the movie, then?"
"I've already seen the rough cut of the film," Julia explained, crossing her arms and giving him a look. "It doesn't matter if I miss a few minutes. What's your excuse?"
"George's ridiculously loud popcorn munching." The corners of William's mouth turned upwards, and Julia suppressed a small smile of her own. "Would George be the amusing friend that you were texting earlier?" she asked prudently.
"Yes, he would. He's also the one that got me here, so I shouldn't really be difficult about it."
Standing here, with only a bit of distance between them, Julia was able to fully appreciate just how handsome this man was. His eyes, dark and seemingly soft and sympathetic, seemed to draw her in, captivate her, trap her in their depths. She controlled and steadied her breathing, hoped that she didn't look as flustered as she felt at their sudden encounter, and once more held out her hand. "I suppose it's time that I introduce myself properly. My name is Julia Ogden, and I'm delighted to meet you, William Murdoch."
He took her hand gently and shook it, holding on for slightly longer than necessary- Julia felt a bolt of disappointment lace through her when he released his grip. There was a rather comfortable pause, and she fixed her gaze on the dark skyline, flecked with the white pinpoints of light that were stars. William spoke then.
"I'm sorry about before, at the coffee shop. I didn't think- I just spoke. I know it must be difficult for you, being so famed, and I completely understand why you would want to remain anonymous for a little while. I apologize for revealing your identity." His tone was strangely formal. Julia mock-glared at him for a moment, and then her façade slipped and a playful smirk burst through. "My identity? I'm not exactly Batman, William."
William smiled broadly in response to that. "So, I take it you've accepted my apology?"
"Hmm… mostly. Being as you did spoil my little pre-premiere outing, and due to the fact that I left my beverage on the table, I believe you at least owe me a coffee," Julia told him, with a false air of haughty expectancy.
"That's just what I was thinking, actually," admitted William, looking as if he thought he was being far too bold by agreeing. "How about…"
The door flew open suddenly, nearly knocking the poor man into a heap. A thin, seedy-looking usher who couldn't have been a day over sixteen muttered a hasty apology and then turned to Julia. "Miss Ogden," he stammered, looking somewhat awed, "Miss Ivy sent me. Mr…. um, Mr. Director is getting in a bit of a tizzy at your absence. She strongly suggests that you return for the duration of the movie."
Julia pulled a face. "Thank you," she told the messenger, and then she glanced at William. "I'd better go. Directors can be very temperamental. Are you coming?"
He shook his head. "I think I'll stay out for a little bit longer."
"We'll talk after the film, then, if that's alright with you? I'd quite like to meet this George of yours; he sounds to be a very interesting man."
"That he is," William said dryly, and then his eyes flickered up to meet Julia's. "After the film it is."
With a final, somewhat discomfited nod, head spinning from the eye contact, Julia opened the door and stumbled into the theatre.
