Chapter Two
Mia's POV
I know I said I can't act and whatever, but who passes up the opportunity to star alongside Michael Wilson??? Not me, that's for sure. And okay, Mr. Big-Director-From-The-Holly-Wood hasn't exactly said Michael Wilson will be starring in it, and he hasn't exactly even asked me to be his co-star—yet--but I'm not going to blow this opportunity. I'm going to do something very un-Mia-like and grab the bull by the horns…Or whatever the expression is.
"Oh!" I cried dramatically. Hey, there's no harm in practising my acting abilities now, is there? Besides, maybe I have a hidden acting ability that has been shielded by my gigantic feet and non existent breasts. Maybe all I need is for someone, say, Jacques Dulles, to give me a chance! And also a chance to woo the leading man… "And you want me…"
My girly, sing-song voice was cut off by Grandmere's normal, raspy one. "Amelia, why are you talking like that? Pull your head in."
I cleared my throat and tried desperately to keep from blushing crimson from embarrassment. Not that it mattered much, Jacques wasn't even looking at me, he was too busy filing his nails with the attachment on his cell phone.
"You want me to star in it? To play myself? Oh, Mr. Dulles, I'd be honou…"
Again Grandmere cut me off, but this time it was with her high pitched cackle. Seriously, she could take on a flock of bats with her set of lungs. The Wicked Witch of the West would flee from the sound too. "You," she breathlessly said after a minute, "You actually think…" And then she set off into another fit of giggles.
I swear, if I ever laughed like that, she'd reprimand me faster than I could put my copy of Extraterrestrials in the Outback into the VCR. Funnily enough, I've never actually unwrapped it.
"Amelia." Jacques Dulles sat up and leaned towards me. I wanted to tell him to call me Mia, but if he thinks Amelia is a better Movie Star name, then so be it. Besides, apparently Michael Wilson wasn't originally called Michael Wilson. No one knows what he was really called, but I like to think it was something exotic…Only his agent told him to change it because his fans, mostly girls aged 12 to 16 wouldn't be able to spell it, let alone pronounce it. "I'm not here to cast you in the role of yourself…"
I'd kind of gathered that from Grandmere's bout of natural laughing gas, but it still hurt to hear it. Can he tell just from looking at me that I suck at acting? Even when I'm acting as MYSELF??? "You're…you're not?"
"No. We thought that it would be too difficult for you to distance yourself from the character we based on you. So we've cast Sarah Cage. I think you'll recognise her from recent movies and TV shows."
Sarah Cage. Sarah Cage will be playing me. OH MY GOD. Sarah Cage is like, only the hottest new actress to come out of The 'Wood. She's in hit TV show The Coastline, and had the lead in the recent blockbuster Takin' It Back with Will Smith. And she's going to be playing me. Geeky, nerdy, unpopular, Mia Thermopolis, in a movie which will no doubt be based on Josh Richter's total, and completely humiliating, betrayal of me. Could it get any worse?
Oh yeah, if Jacques Dulles tells me that she really is starring opposite Michael Wilson. Ha, I'll shoot myself. If only I could be that lucky in real life.
"Mr. Dulles," I said calmly, trying to process everything and think clearly. "What exactly is the movie about?"
"Well, the script is still in the works, but some of the characters, and the actors playing them will be your friend Lana, played by Wendy Moral or something, and your ex beau, Josh, played by Michael Wilson."
I'd better go load that pistol.
Michael's POV
"Michael!" The shrill voice of my agents' assistant called out to me from outside my trailer. Even on my days off from filming my latest weep-fest film, I can't get any peace.
"What?" I kicked open the door with more than a little force. I've practiced this move many times; I don't think the catch closes all the way any more, it certainly doesn't lock
Lilly didn't let the door opening in her face affect her- I guess I can't blame her. Her face is already contorted, much like one of those pug dogs, I doubt if the door had hit her it would have done any more damage. In fact, it may have even improved it. I'll have to aim better next time to see- she came barreling in anyway. "Beverly has set up a meeting for you and Jacques Dulles, this afternoon at four, which should leave you with enough time to get yourself ready for tonight's date. Who is she, anyway?"
I groaned. Sharing my dating/love life with Lilly is not something I care for. But upsetting Lilly upsets Beverly, and upsetting Beverly is a big no-no. "Jessica Winter."
"Ooh!" she cooed, plopping herself down on the edge of the small bed I was uncomfortably lying on. "Wasn't she in Cheesy Max, that cop movie?"
"Uh huh. Listen, Lilly, I gotta get ready if I'm gonna make that four o'clock meeting." I checked my watch and saw to my dismay it wasn't even noon. "So I've only got…four and a half hours. And you know how much I stress when my hair gets out of whack."
"Right," Lilly replied, totally buying it and standing up to leave. "I'll leave you to it then. Be outside your trailer at three thirty."
As soon as she left I grabbed the notes Jacques had had sent over for me to read. I better read up on this Princess's life if I'm going to have to play her boyfriend or whatever.
Whoop-de-doo.
- - -
I thought a Plaza Penthouse suite was a weird place to meet, but as an actor, I'm not supposed to argue or disagree, or give my opinion at all, really. I'm just supposed to smile and do what my agent says. And when she says go to The Plaza, I go to The Plaza. I've learned from past mistakes of not obeying her orders.
As soon as I step foot in the lobby: "Oh, my God, you're Michael
Wilson,
right?"
Can a guy not even have any privacy in a five star hotel like this? Famous people stay here all the time. Hell, world leaders stay here apparently. Where's the friggin' security?
I pushed past the girl and headed for the concierge desk, trying to block out the wheezing sound she was making. I get girls having asthma attacks around me all the time, I guess you could say I'm used to it. So I didn't let it faze me, and I didn't stop to help her. Isn't it her responsibility to carry a puffer?
The page at the desk was a girl about my age, and she was fiiiine. I turned on my charm, told her my name and asked to be let up to Penthouse #3. She clicked a few buttons, flitted her eyelashes at me a few times, and picked up a key. Then she told me to follow her towards the lifts.
Wheezing girl grabbed onto my jacket. "But, Michael Wilson…"
"Listen, kid," I told her, probably a little more roughly than I'd normally tell my fans to rack off, but Ms. Hot-Page was getting away! "I don't have time to hang around and take photos or sign anything, I have someone important to meet."
"But…"
"No buts, kid." Then I ran for the door of the lift.
Five minutes later I'd bid a fond adieu to the hot page, and was sitting comfortably across from Jacques and an older lady I didn't know.
"Did my granddaughter not come up with you?" she asked.
"Granddaughter?"
"Yes," Jacques said. "Michael, this is the Dowager Princess of Genovia, Clarisse. Her granddaughter, Princess Amelia, was going to meet you in the foyer."
I let out a little laugh. "Well, I didn't see any princesses downstairs ma'am, just a rabid fan trying to stop me for photos or something. I tell you, I never get any peace."
"Rabid fan?" The Dowager Princess repeated, cocking an eyebrow.
"Yeah, some of my fans, they get a little crazy. Like this girl, she was…" I looked at the expressions on both their faces, and it clicked. How could I be so stupid??? "You're granddaughter, wasn't she?" I finished softly.
Clarisse nodded. "I've always thought her a little…rabid myself."
"Right." I stood up and looked at Jacques. "It's okay, I'll sort it out. And I'll bring her right back up here. Sorry about the confusion."
Then I high tailed it out of there and into the lift.
Why do I always make the worst decisions concerning my career? Next time, I just stop for a minute for a quick snap, and give the girls a chance to tell me they're the real life Princess of which my next movie is based.
Is that so hard to remember?
