One moment I was lifting Emily into the air, the next she was trying to attack me with everything she had.
"Put me down!" she cried, panic sharp in her voice. Her hands turned into frantic, metaphorical claws, swiping wildly and coming within an inch of scratching my face clean off.
So, of course, I put her down.
The instant her feet touched the ground, she curled in on herself like she was trying to disappear, then bolted off the set without a word. She didn't even pause to explain what had gone wrong. Her assistant was right behind her, nearly sprinting to keep up.
I turned back to the directors, completely confused, searching their faces for some clue as to what had just happened. They looked just as lost as I felt.
"Does she have acrophobia?" Glenn asked, uncertainty creeping into his voice.
"I don't know, honestly," I said. "She's done quite a few of her own stunts for the last part of Twilight, and no one mentioned anything like that to me."
We stood there in awkward silence for a few moments, not knowing what to do when our female lead just bolted so abruptly. Finally, John cleared his throat.
"Do you think we could use a double for this scene?" he asked. "It'd be a lot easier if she's afraid of heights. And you know we're on a really tight schedule."
"No," I said immediately, cutting the idea off. "Let me talk to her first before we decide anything like that."
With that, I left the set and headed straight for Emily's trailer. Kylie, her assistant, was already outside, lingering near the door like she'd been expecting me.
"Is she alright?" I asked, worry settling heavy in my chest. "I've never seen her that panicked. Not in all the years I've known her. And I've known her for a while."
"Well… she's a little sentimental right now," Kylie said hesitantly. "I don't really know what exactly caused that reaction, but it must've been something bad. Are you sure you didn't…"
When she trailed off, I nudged her gently. "I didn't what?"
She looked away, lowering her voice. "Touch her somewhere sensitive when you lift her. Not intentionally, obviously. Emily's told me about the kind of bond you two have, so I don't doubt you at all. It's just that sometimes things happen when you least expect them, and you two might be close friends, but she's still a girl, and…"
"Kylie," I cut in before her rambling could go on any further. "That's not what happened. Let me talk to her."
She didn't need much convincing. She stepped aside and opened the door for me.
I might've reassured Kylie, but the doubt lingered as I stepped inside. Could it have been something I did? Some careless touch that set everything off? Maybe she was injured somewhere, and I pressed that area while lifting her?
"Emily?" I called out softly.
I froze when I saw her sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, watching a movie on the small screen across from her. It took me a second to recognize it, but I was pretty sure it was that David Bowie movie from the seventies, [Labyrinth].
She turned toward me, her expression guarded and unsure.
I softened my voice and my face. "Are you okay?"
She shook her head. "I don't know, honestly. One moment, I was ready to be the Jennifer Grey of this era, and the next, it felt like I was falling from the top of the Empire State Building, about to break every bone in my body. I just can't…"
She shook her head again, like she was trying to physically shake the sensation out of her system.
I sat down beside her and gently took her hand in mine. "Did something happen that made you afraid of heights?"
"I'm not afraid of heights," she said quickly, almost defensively. "I've done stunts throughout the last [Twilight], including scenes where I was literally hanging in the air, strapped to wires. I have even done dance lifts for [Step Up]."
"Then what exactly are you afraid of?"
She took a slow, hesitant breath, her eyes drifting back to the TV before finally settling somewhere far away.
"I was about seven," she began. "I was in gymnastics class on these parallel bars, and my instructor was supposed to hold me until I learned how to balance. She let go when I wasn't ready." Her fingers tightened slightly around mine. "I fell. I broke both my arms."
She swallowed.
"When you lifted me back there, it felt like I was that little girl again. I don't even know why I reacted so badly when I did much more challenging lifts with Channing Tatum for [Step Up]. "
I let that sink in before speaking. "So you're not afraid of heights," I said carefully. "You just don't trust me to keep holding you up there."
She nodded slowly. "Essentially, yes."
"Wait," I said as realization hit me. "Didn't you break both your legs in that car accident right before we were supposed to shoot [The Perks of Being a Wallflower]? Don't tell me you're afraid of traveling in cars too."
She grimaced. "You really had to remind me of that, didn't you? And no, I'm not afraid of cars. But all my vehicles do have top-notch security now."
We fell into silence as the movie continued to play on the small TV in the corner of the trailer, A young Jennifer Connelly was speaking to Bowie.
"John and Glenn suggested using a body double for the lift," I said finally.
"Oh. Sure, I don't mind," she said, agreeing far too easily.
"I think you should think about it," I insisted. "This is easily the best-written scene in the film, if we ignore the reveal toward the end. You doing it yourself will make it iconic for years to come."
"I don't think I can do this, Troy," she said, shaking her head. "Not with everyone watching. Let's just use a double and get it over with."
"You can," I said softly. "If it were anyone else, I wouldn't even push it. But I know you. You're tougher than this. You should conquer your fear. I promise I won't let you fall. Trust me."
She let out a long sigh. "Okay. But we practice first. No crew. No audience. Only then do we shoot it."
"Done," I said easily. "Let's find a training room and practice some dirty dancing."
As I stepped out of the trailer with Emily, it finally clicked why that scene in the original movie had always felt slightly off to me. Ryan and Emily's banter was flawless, but the lift itself never landed the way it should have.
They must've used a body double because of Emily's fear. I couldn't let that happen now.
(Break)
"Troy," Glenn Ficarra said, his voice hesitant. "As you know, we're shooting the gym scene today."
I raised an eyebrow. "Of course I know. Why do you sound so nervous about it?"
Glenn glanced at his partner in crime, John Requa. John cleared his throat and said, "He's just a little skittish about asking how you want to proceed with the nude scene."
"Oh," I said, nodding in understanding. "What's there to ask? It's like any other scene in the film. We'll shoot it exactly as it's written in the script."
Glenn shook his head. "That's not quite what we meant. We've arranged a body double who can step in for close-ups of the nude parts. You can also wear flesh-colored underwear, and we'll blend it with your skin in post-production. No one will know the difference."
I considered it for about two seconds before shaking my head. "Nope. I don't need a body double. I'm happy to do it myself."
The directing duo exchanged a look before John spoke again. "Are you sure about this? I thought a man of your stature might prefer—"
"Nope," I cut him off. "I'm an actor first and foremost. I prefer real, authentic performances, not an overreliance on body doubles. I get their use in big-budget tentpoles like Harry Potter, where a single accident could shut production down for months, or when magic is needed to achieve a certain effect that is impossible otherwise. But doing all that just to make me appear naked feels extreme when I can literally take my clothes off. People are going to assume I'm naked anyway, so what does it matter if I actually am?"
Glenn inclined his head, conceding the point. "Can't fault your logic there. Alright then. Would you like to drape a towel over your shoulders? It might draw some attention away from the lower half of your body."
I shook my head and pointed at my chest. "I've worked for months, multiple hours a day, to build this body. You bet your ass I'm not hiding it behind a towel."
Currently, I was in the best shape of my life so far. It was quite similar to the physique I had achieved during [The Night Of], only this time I had focused on getting broader as well to look older than I actually was.
I thought that was the end of our discussion, especially when they turned as if to head back to the set. But just before they left, Glenn paused.
"One last thing," he said. "How much are we actually allowed to shoot? What parts, I mean. With other actors, we have to be mindful of contracts and nudity waivers. Yours is a bit of a unique case, given… well, who you are."
I chuckled. "I'm not the shy kind. You can shoot whatever the fuck you want, as long as we get a PG-13 rating in America. And don't worry, I won't sue Phoenix for exploitation."
John laughed and clapped a hand on Glenn's shoulder. "Told you you were worrying for nothing. Let's leave Troy to get ready for the scene."
Once they were gone, it was finally time for my costume designer to step in.
"I've got just the thing to help you feel comfortable during the scene." With that, she pulled out a skin-colored pouch meant to be tied around my dick and balls.
I considered it for a moment, then grinned and shook my head. "Nah, I don't need it. It'll be hella funny when Steve has to perform right next to me."
If I were doing this scene with a woman, I'd never go through with it without discussing it first. But I knew Steve. He'd absolutely find it hilarious.
Another reason I wanted to do the scene completely naked was that comedy made it easier. Laughing at the absurdity took the edge off. And honestly, the environment on this set was one of the best I'd experienced in a long time. It felt relaxed, respectful, and strangely safe.
I also didn't want the first time I went naked for the camera in this timeline to be on [Game of Thrones], where scenes like that were bound to be gratuitous, designed purely to grab as many eyeballs as possible.
(Break)
"Let's be honest, Cal," I said, summoning every ounce of confidence I could muster in the moment. "The war between the sexes is over. We won the moment women started doing pole dancing for exercise. But even if we won, they still deserve our respect."
I paused, waiting for Steve Carell to respond, but he was busy staring literally anywhere in the room except at me.
"You know," I continued, gesturing animatedly as I spoke. I rested one leg on the same stool Steve was sitting on, my hips and everything below them far closer to his face than was strictly necessary. "Make them feel beautiful. Listen to their problems. Open the door for them."
Steve finally looked me straight in the eye. "Could you put on some clothes, please?"
I pointed directly at my junk. "I'm sorry, is this bothering you?"
"Of course it's bothering me, Troy!" Steve shouted. "I've got an unexplainable desire to do so many naughty things to you and your 'schwantz'."
That was it. We both completely lost it.
We collapsed into uncontrollable laughter. Even the boom operator, standing closest to us, dropped the mic just so he could laugh properly.
It was a closed set for obvious reasons, with only five other people present besides Steve and me. But in that moment, I realized I wouldn't have cared even if ten more were watching. It had been literal decades since I'd last shot porn, but the exhibitionist in me woke up the second I dropped my robe for the first take in front of these strangers.
"Seriously," Steve said between fits of laughter. "Out of all the pranks anyone's ever pulled on me, this is the one I won't forget for the rest of my life."
I shrugged innocently. "Of course. I'm the finest human specimen on the face of the Earth. If our roles were reversed, I'd have had zero desire to do anything to you."
"Ouch," Steve said, fake-wincing. "Didn't even hesitate before calling me ugly."
We started laughing again, feeding off each other's timing, until someone finally told us to behave.
"Guys," John said sternly. "As much as we love your camaraderie, please finish the scene first. We need to wrap this up as soon as we can."
"Sorry, John," Steve and I said in perfect unison, then turned to each other with matching grins. If we hadn't just been scolded, we'd have absolutely cracked another joke about our impeccable timing.
"Wear a pouch before we continue," Steve said, suddenly serious. "I'm not putting my face on your dick."
I laughed and stepped away from him to do just that. "Fair enough."
A minute later, we reset the scene and shot it in one smooth take. It was covered from two angles. One camera sat behind Steve, framing the back of his head positioned exactly where my crotch was meant to be. The directors had shown me a still photo from that angle, and it displayed my body perfectly. I wasn't wearing anything, except for a silver necklace that hung down to the middle of my chest. It was something my character, Jacob, wore throughout the movie.
The second camera was placed behind my ass, focused on Steve's reaction with my 'schwantz' just inches from his face. I preferred this setup over repeating the same scene multiple times from different angles.
"I think we got it," John said thoughtfully, then turned to Glenn. "What do you think?"
"It's very good," Glenn replied. "But maybe we can try it one more time. Why don't you guys improvise a little? Try whatever comes naturally."
I wasn't great at improvisational comedy, but Steve was a genius at it, so I wasn't worried. Shooting a comedy with him was the easiest thing in the world, even for a non-comedian like me.
"Action!"
At the cue, I launched back into my monologue about men and women, when a voice from outside abruptly stopped me.
"Sir, this is a closed set. You can't just barge in."
"Of course I can, you fucking moron! It's an emergency! If you don't let me in right now, I'll have you fired before you can even say sorry."
I froze mid-line as soon as I recognized the voice.
"Benji!" I called out, uncaring that the cameras were still rolling. "What happened?"
That was his cue to storm onto the set. He didn't even spare a glance at my lack of clothing. His face was tight with worry.
"It's Scarlett, Troy," he said. "You need to get to the hospital. Right now."
My face drained of color the instant I heard that. Scarlett's not due for six more weeks at least.
What the fuck was happening!?
____________________
AN: Check out my second story, 'Swimmer to Superstar (A Hollywood SI)'.
Link: www(dot)fablefic(dot)com