The Big Time Pt. 08

“Nope. The rest is details Michael,” said Nicole. She rolled over on top of him. “And practice. Lots and lots of practice.” X lay down on the floor and stared into space.

7: 34 am. Thursday, June 26. Union Station. Chicago, Illinois.

Today was the first day of shooting. Michael had already been to wardrobe and makeup and was anxiously awaiting the first take. The last few hours were just like the few hours before his audition in May; frantic, compulsive memorization and rehearsal in the privacy of his room. Even now, moments away from getting in front of the camera he was mentally rehearsing his lines.

Michael was standing in the middle of the Great Hall, the surviving half of the original 1925 train station and an awe-inspiring example of architecture. The floors and walls were constructed of marble. Numerous Corinthian columns and bronze floor torches line the room. The high, vaulted ceiling provided a humbling echo.

Nicole had flown out the day before. Before she left she pronounced him ready to tackle any challenges the industry might throw at him. She insisted that he never become complacent, that he would always find some way to get better at whatever he was doing and that if he ever needed help he could rely on her. And as far as sex was concerned, he could rest assured that if he could satisfy her, he could probably satisfy any woman. But if he wanted to go above and beyond, all he had to do was listen.

The schedule Michael had originally received from Simon was useless. Soon after Michael returned to Chicago he got an email that basically turned the schedule around. His scenes would be the first ones to be shot and everything else afterwards. What it amounted to was that he would have very little contact with Kirsten outside of the scenes where they were physically in the same frame. Michael was surprised that Kirsten had the clout to turn a movie upside down like that. He knew that Jen (the director) was quite unhappy with it. Nevertheless, there was little trouble in reorganizing everything; the city was more than happy to accommodate the production. Ever since the film Chicago was filmed in Toronto, the city had been putting more effort into securing Hollywood’s business.

“They’re ready for you Mr. Torbin,” said a gopher holding a clipboard.

Michael cracked his knuckles. “Okay.” He followed the pudgy man out of the Great Hall and down to the railroad tracks. The film crew was near one of the unused tracks near the end of hallway. Michael had to wade through hundreds of people streaming off the trains. He was nearly dragged up the escalators by all the people rushing to work.

“Okay Mike, we’re ready to shoot. You remember how this scene goes right?” asked Jen. Michael nodded. “Good.” She pointed down the train platform. “The place where you start is marked on the ground. Keira and the steadicam is already down there. I’m going to be back here near the monitors ok? As soon as you hear me say ‘action,’ let’er rip.”

“Alright.” Michael cracked his knuckles and headed down the concrete. He still had not met (or seen) his co-star Keira Knightley. She had been making the rounds on the press circuit to promote her new film, Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl. She was just on Leno and was due on Regis and Kelly in a few days.

The closer he got to where he was supposed to be, the more his concentration slipped away. Keira was quite beautiful. Her dark mane was pulled back in a pony tail and her shirt was about an inch too short, teasing a hint of her flat and toned stomach. Michael found himself walking slower and slower so as to keep this vision in front of him.

Keira stared back at Michael, but for an entirely different reason. “Can you hear me? Are you Michael Torbin?”

Michael cleared his throat as he realized that somehow he did not hear her say hello to him. “Yeah, that’s me. I’m sorry, it’s kind of loud in here.” Yet another sexy accent for him to deal with.

She extended her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, uh, likewise,” said Michael as he shook her hand. He turned and looked towards the director. Michael tried to crack his knuckles again.

“You’re not nervous are you?” asked Keira.

“Very, actually.”

“How come? There’s no audience.”

“I guess,” said Michael. “It’s just that I’ve never done this before.”

“Really? No stage work, commercials, anything like that?”

“Not unless you count those Christmas plays they make you do when you’re in first grade,” replied Michael.

“I hated those.”

“So did I.”

“Well you should relax, we’re supposed to be old mates,” said Keira.

“Places!” called out Jen through a bullhorn.

“You two ready?” asked a crewmember.

“Yep,” said Keira as she hopped past the open doors of the train.

“Sure,” answered Michael. He took his place on the platform.

“Okay, here we go. Scene 34, take 1.” *clack*

“Action!” said Jen.

+++

Leslie bounded out of the train pulling on one of those trendy one strap backpacks and drinking a Red Bull. Jack jogged up to her and tapped her shoulder. “Did you bring the stuff?” asked Jack.

“Of course I did. Took me three hours to do it too,” snapped Leslie. “You owe me so big for this.”

“Whoa whoa, I owe YOU, for this?” said Jack. “I don’t think so. Remember when you needed that thing that time?”

“Be less specific,” said Leslie sarcastically.

“I’m talking about the THING, don’t play dumb.”

Leslie blinked. “That’s what you’re talking about? I didn’t need that in the first place.”

“You might not have thought so at the time but you’re lying if you say you weren’t relieved to have it.”

“Lying is relative.”

Jack scoffed. “No it’s not. Truth-“ He held out one hand. “-And not the truth.” He held out his other hand. “That’s all there is.”

“Telling the truth is like drinking. There’s a difference between ‘having a good time’ drunk and ‘not remembering having a good time’ drunk.”

“I’m confused,” said Jack. “Look, just give me the-“

+++

“Cut!” said Jen. Keira and Michael stopped walking. “Mike, don’t look into the camera.”

Michael scratched his arm as his face turned red. “Right. Sorry.”

“Alright people, let’s do it again!” said Jen.

Keira and Michael turned around and went back to their original spots. “Oops,” said Michael.

“I think everyone’s made that mistake Mike, don’t worry about it,” said Keira.

“Places!” said Jen.

“Scene 34, take 2.” *clack*

“Action!”

+++

Leslie jumped out of the train pulling on one of those trendy one strap backpacks and drinking a Red Bull. Jack jogged up to her and tapped her shoulder. “Did you bring the stuff?” asked Jack.

“Of course I did. Took me three hours to do it too,” snapped Leslie. “You owe me big for this.”

“Whoa whoa, I owe YOU, for this?” said Jack. “I don’t think so. Remember when you needed that thing that time?”

“Be less specific,” said Leslie sarcastically.

“I’m talking about the THING, don’t play dumb.”

Leslie blinked. “That’s what you’re talking about? I didn’t need that thing in the first place.”

“You might not have thought so at the time but you’re lying if you say you weren’t relieved to have it.”

“Lying is relative.”

Jack scoffed. “No it’s not. Truth-“ He held out one hand. “-And not the truth.” He held out his other hand. “That’s all there is.”

“Telling the truth is like drinking. There’s a subtle difference-“

+++

“Cut!” said Jen. “Mike, the camera is NOT there, okay? Try and ignore it.”

“Damnit,” said Michael. He turned around and walked back to his spot.

+++

“Whoa whoa, I owe YOU, for this?” said Jack. “I don’t think so. Remember when you needed that thing that time?”

“Be less specific,” said Leslie.

“I’m talking about the THING, don’t play dumb.”

Leslie blinked. “That’s what you’re talking about? I didn’t need that in the first place.”

“You might not have thought so at the time but you’re lying if you say you-“

+++

“Cut!”

“Sorry!” apologized Michael. He went back to his spot shaking his head.

+++

Leslie bounded-

+++

“Cut!”

“Fuck!” said Michael under his breath.

Jen sighed. “This is going to be a long day.”

1:46 pm.

“Alright, that’s lunch everybody!” called out Jen.

Michael sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Thank god.”

“Are you alright?” asked Keira.

Michael sighed as they walked out of the train station towards the food truck. “We just spent six hours filming two and a half minutes of footage. I didn’t realize how repetitive this was going to be.”

“Pull a Frank Sinatra then.”

Michael looked to the side. “Who the hell let you on the set?”

“Female security guards are my specialty. You know that Mike,” said Thomas. His eyes settled on Keira. “Female anything is my specialty, actually.”

“Good thing my dog is a boy,” said Michael. “Keira, this is my friend Tom. Tom, Keira.”

“Keira. Beautiful name,” said Thomas. He shook hands with her.

“Tom. Boring name,” replied Keira.

“Ah, they’re just labels, don’t let them fool you,” said Thomas.

“Yeah, otherwise he’d be called ‘insensitive porn freak just looking to get laid,’” said Michael.

“And his name would be ‘luckiest guy in the world for getting to work alongside such a beautiful woman.’”

Michael rolled his eyes and leaned his head back. “Oh man,” he said sarcastically. “Where DO you come up with it?”

“I think I have an idea,” said Keira with a chuckle. “I’ll be right over there Mike.” She walked away carrying a salad.

“Daaamn,” said Thomas as he watched her leave. “Why can’t I be in movies?”

Michael took some food from the truck. “Come on.”

“Hold up, let me grab some food,” said Thomas.

“Sorry, sir. Talent and crew only,” said the caterer.

“Oh come on, no one’s going to notice one missing hot dog,” said Thomas.

“Sorry, sir. Can’t.”

“It’s okay, he’s my assistant,” said Michael. Thomas looked at him and raised his eyebrows. “He must have forgotten his pass.”

“Oh I’m sorry, what would you like?” asked the caterer.

Michael plopped his plate and drink into Thomas’s hands. “Hold onto this for me?” He walked towards Keira. Thomas scowled at him and muttered to himself, annoyed.

“What are you so smiley about?” asked Keira.

“Nothing, I just like messing with Tom,” said Michael. He sat down. “Usually it’s the other way around, but all this show business stuff gives me a lot of opportunities.”

“I see,” said Keira. She looked over Michael’s shoulder. “You might not want to eat your lunch.”

“What?” asked Michael. He turned his head and Thomas quickly looked up at the sky, acting far too nonchalant for Michael’s liking.

Thomas put the plates down on the table along with a couple cans of soda. “Tell anyone else I’m your assistant and I’m kicking your ass.”

Michael looked at the slightly misshapen cheeseburger on his plate. “Maybe I’ll have a salad instead.” He got up and started walking back to the food truck.

“Darn,” said Thomas.

“Sorry, I guess I shouldn’t have warned him,” said Keira.

“No problem, there’ll be plenty more opportunities,” said Thomas. “So where’re you from? Sounds like a London accent.”

“You can tell I’m from London because of my accent?” asked Keira. “Or are you just saying that because it’s the only city you know that’s in England?”

“Uh. Yep.” Thomas adjusted his sunglasses. “Hey, you were inBend It Like Beckham.”

“That’s right,” said Keira.

“You were so hot in that flick.”

Keira smiled. “You’re not a shy one are you?”

“Do you want me to be shy?”

“No no, Michael is quite quiet enough for the both of you.”

Thomas cracked open his can of soda. “Are you going to be using that accent in the movie? I mean, it’s not exactly common in this city.”

“We’ve been trying it both ways but the director isn’t too fond of my American accent.”

“Let’s hear it,” said Thomas.

“How does this sound?” said Keira in what she thought was an American accent.

Thomas coughed into his soda. “That’s good,” fibbed Thomas. Keira frowned at him.

“You know I AM working on it. I’ve been listening to blokes like you on TV for the last two days. And I’ll tell you that your TV sucks.”

“See that’s the problem. You should be watching reruns of the Rosie O’Donnell show. That’s the person you should be emulating.”

“Really? Rosie O’Donnell?”

“Oh yeah,” said Thomas. “Definitely.”

As Michael was walking back towards the table Jen tapped him on the shoulder. “Mike, can I talk to you for a sec?”

“Sure,” said Michael. He followed Jen to a spot on a street corner. “If it’s about the camera thing I’m really working on it. I’ll have it licked by the end of the day.”

“No, it’s not that,” said Jen. “It’s about Keira. And you too.”

“Okay. What is it?”

“First, let me say that you are doing a really good job with your character, it’s just the way I envisioned him, except for one thing; you’re kind of detached from ‘Leslie.’ I realize how hard it must be for you, seeing as how it’s your first time doing any real acting. But these two characters are longtime friends and it’s critical that ‘Jack’ and ‘Leslie’ have a good rapport, know what I mean?” Michael nodded. “A good way to do that is to actually be friends, you know, outside of work.”

“I’ll do that then,” said Michael. “Might be kinda hard with her schedule, but I’ll try.”

“Alright, great. That’s all I wanted to say. Don’t forget that we have that extra day off since the schedule got all screwed up, so that’s your best bet.”

They walked back to the station and Michael went over to the table with a ham sandwich in his hands. Keira was laughing at something Thomas was saying. “What’d I miss?”

Between chuckles Keira said, “Tom was telling me what happened to you in Grant Park.”

“What happened to me?” asked Michael. Thomas elbowed him in the arm. Michael got the picture. “Oh right, the Grant Park incident. It’s quite a story.”

“I can just imagine,” said Keira.

Michael took a bite of his sandwich. “Keira, I was just talking to Jen and she was concerned about our chemistry together. Or I guess my half of it anyway.”

“Oh?”

“It’s just that it’s hard for me to be comfortable around new people so quickly, acting-wise at least,” said Michael. “So she suggested that we get to know each other outside of work.”

“That sounds like a great idea. Me and Mike will show you a great time.” said Thomas. Michael and Keira turned their heads and looked at him.

3:35 pm. Sunday, June 29. US Cellular Field (Comiskey Park).

“Why does he get to go to over there? He didn’t do anything.” Michael was sitting a few rows behind the White Sox dugout. Thomas was sitting next to him with his feet up and his arm stretched out around Keira. Magglio Ordonez of the Chicago White Sox was jogging to first base.

“That’s called a walk. If the pitcher throws four balls the batter gets to go to first base for free. There’s also something called an intentional walk. Sometimes a pitcher does that so he can have an easier time with a weaker batter,” explained Thomas.

“So the guy on the pile of dirt can just avoid good batters?” asked Keira.

“Yeah, if he has to,” answered Thomas.

“Not much of a man is he?” They watched as Brian Daubach struck out. “I’m still not convinced that this sport is more fun than football.”

“See now you’re just being silly,” said Thomas.

“I am not!” insisted Keira.

Michael crumpled up his hot dog wrapper and dropped it under the seat. He was annoyed that Thomas and Keira were having such a good time together. Not because he was jealous but because he was supposed to be the one becoming friendly with her. As far as he was concerned this was business and Thomas was getting in the way. Michael may as well not even be there; he and Keira had hardly exchanged two sentences.

“Hey, listen, I’ll be right back,” said Michael. He edged past Thomas and Keira and headed towards the bathrooms.

“Okay, tell me something,” said Thomas. “What is the most exciting part of any sport?”

Keira shifted in her seat towards Thomas. “What?”

“The scoring. The runs, the baskets, the points, the touchdowns. The gooooooooaaaaals! Right?” said Thomas.

“Go on.”

“Soccer is horrifically boring to watch because it involves so little scoring,” said Thomas. “As cool it is to see Beckham kick a ball four hundred miles an hour in an s-curve through a goaltender’s face, the fact that itmight happen once in a three and a half hour game stinks.”

“What, so every American sport involves scoring left and right?”

“No, but the possibility is there. At any moment something interesting might happen,” said Thomas. “Soccer is different. It crosses the line between anticipation and exasperation.”

“And this sport doesn’t?” said Keira, pointing out towards the field. We’ve been here for half an hour and nothing has happened.”

“Nothing has happened?! Did you miss that sweet double play the Cubs turned during the first inning?”

“Double play?”

“It’s when-“ Thomas paused. “Never mind. The point is that every pitch can be exciting.”

“Every moment of a football game can be exciting too. The game just doesn’t lend itself to explanations like your sports do,” said Keira.

“Are you saying that you can’t explain why you like soccer?”

“I’m saying that you either get it or you don’t. You, obviously, are clueless.”

“You’re the one who’s clueless.”

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m not!”

7:07 pm. Joe’s.

After the game the three of them hopped in a cab and went over to Michael and Thomas’s favorite bar. It was not terribly busy at the moment. Steven and Lisa were standing behind the bar chatting as they walked in. “Michael! It’s been a while,” boomed Steven. Steven was as big and boisterous as ever. His thick white beard and sizeable frame gave the impression of a former lumberjack.

“Hey Steve. Hi Lisa,” said Michael.

Steven gave Keira a good look up and down. “Who’s this?” he asked. Lisa glared at him.

“Steve, Lisa, this is Keira,” said Thomas. “Keira, meet a couple good friends and the proprietors of this exceptional establishment.”

“Hello,” she said cheerily.

Steven took her extended hand and kissed it. “Welcome to Joe’s.”

Keira smiled, somewhat embarrassed. “Thank you. This is quite a pub.”

Steve poured three beers for them. “Go grab a booth?” asked Michael. They walked away from the bar and sat down.

Lisa poked Steven in the chest. “You do that again and I’m taking the next young man who leers at me home.”

Keira looked at the beer in front of her. “Hmm.”

“Don’t worry about it if you’re underage,” said Thomas. “Steve’s a good friend.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about. I’m not sure if I should drink,” said Keira. She looked at the two men. “My parents told me not to drink while I’m in America.”

“Two thousand miles is plenty of time to sober up,” said Thomas.

“Good point,” said Michael as he sipped his beer.

For the next few hours they sat around drinking and talking. People were trickling in, a few of them recognized Keira and asked her for autographs. More than one man tried to ingratiate himself with Michael or Thomas so he could get a chance with Keira. She would have turned them down anyway; Keira was content with her present company. She was rather cozy with Thomas now, lying back against his chest with his arm hanging down her side.

“If the owners are called Steve and Lisa, why is this place called ‘Joe’s?’” asked Keira.

“Would you believe that in the three years I’ve been coming here it’s never come up?” said Thomas.

“Really?”

“No, not really.” Keira nudged him hard with her knee. “Steve wanted to call the place ‘Steve’s’ and Lisa wanted to call the place ‘Lisa’s.’ They compromised.”

“Why not just call it ‘Steve and Lisa’s?’”

“They couldn’t agree on whose name would go first.”

“Of course.” She downed her shot of tequila as Michael came back and put a handful of drinks on the table. Keira’s buzz was growing louder and louder.