Queen of the Universe, page 5
Cleo stands in front of everyone and says, “I went for this role because I wanted to be part of a story that speaks to me. It felt like a role that I could give myself to. It’s everything I thought it would be and more. I’m also forever grateful to this production team for being so kind to me. Thank you, and I hope everyone enjoys the show!”
There is loud applause and cheers from everyone. Cleo can’t honestly believe she just said that, but she means that. She trusts the production team and herself. All that’s left to do is to watch it. Soon, when everyone’s settled down, the film starts rolling. She isn’t watching it—thousand things are going on in her head. She’s questioning whether it’s good enough for this audience. Why is she not hearing their reactions? Did they fall asleep? Question after question comes to mind, her heart beats loudly in her chest, a drumroll to the beginning of a good show. This is probably the longest-running event of her life, and she just can’t wait for it to be over.
After what seems like forever, there is applause. Cleo thinks they appreciate how the film speaks so much of what it must be like to live with a mental disorder and how difficult it can be for patients whose family hardly ever visit.
This is great! Everyone’s left speechless, and that’s precisely what Cleo’s aiming for; she wants them to think about it, to feel as the characters feel, to see themselves in the story.
The after-party takes place in some fancy restaurant. Like any other premiere after-parties, the lead role gets a slew of congratulations. The funny thing about it is that when Cleo asks them what part of the movie they liked, they all have the same answer. Their remarks are so generic that none of their congratulations felt genuine to her. At this point, she’d rather hear a criticism than a compliment. But she smiles at them anyway and is grateful they even took the time to adjust their schedule for this.
“See? I told you they’d love it,” Owen says, drinking his wine. Sometimes, Cleo forgets how this place is so much more his world. He could be an actor, himself, for all the times he masks his face to others.
“Yeah, for sure,” Cleo says, a smile plastered on her face.
“Congrats, Cleo!” Guinevere, the beauty queen, and Jake’s twin sister says. “You deserve it.”
And that’s it. No, oh, your acting skills are on point! It’s always just “Congratulations!” She’s waiting for someone to say anything about the movie and her acting. She waits and drinks and eats with everyone. She gets none of it, and yet she celebrates it. The premiere is a success, and while the viewers’ reactions don’t fully satisfy her, she enjoys her time with them. She should just use this party to her advantage and make connections. It’s time to look for a new project. Again.
“Congratulations, Cleo. It’s brave of you to try an indie film,” says Carol, one of the celebrities in dark red lipstick. She’s been friends with Selene as far back as Cleo can remember.
“It’s not brave, but I wanted to try. It’s nice to be part of different things, and I like working with this company. Have you been in an indie movie ever?” Cleo replies.
Carol shakes her head. “I wouldn’t earn much from it. Anyway, you should take on another modeling project to recover from this film’s expenses. I’m sure you also contributed to the production given the limited budget.”
Cleo didn’t chip in any money. The production house took care of her. They’d arranged their budget the best they could to produce a film as good as that. But who’s she kidding? Some of these celebrities think she also produced the movie to make people notice her.
“This production team is the best. I didn’t do anything but act. Thank you for your suggestion, but I still have enough money.”
That’s true. Cleo did save a lot ever since she started working; magazines pay her a fair amount for being so good at the job. There were others who hinted she should stick to modeling, but she wanted more.
Carol shrugs. “If you need any modeling projects, let me know. I can connect you to the right people.”
“Sure, thank you,” Cleo says politely, not wanting to have a row with anyone.
“Thank you for the invite, but I have to go now. Taping day tomorrow and all that.” Carol winks at Cleo. “Love the movie!”
As time passes by, Cleo can feel her energy draining. These celebrities are, like, sucking the life out of her, but it’s part of the after-party. It’s a good thing Owen came with her even though he has his first exams tomorrow. He’s much more relaxed than she is, drinking his wine like he always does.
“Tell me if you want to go home and study or have an early night,” Cleo says, worried about Owen. “I want you to be rested for your exams.”
Owen smiles lazily at her. “I’m fine, babe. Let’s just enjoy the night. I’ve studied enough and this night is for you. It’s on my schedule, okay? Also, I’ve got us booked for this weekend in Hong Kong. I think we both deserve it after this week. Is that okay with you? It’s supposed to be a surprise, but I can’t bear to see you looking so anxious.”
“Of course!” Cleo smiles at him, finally relaxing a bit, until Owen’s pocket rings. “That my phone?”
“Yeah, I think so. Hold on.” Owen pulls up Cleo’s phone from his pocket. He’s always her carrier at parties. “Here.”
They both look at her phone screen; it’s an unknown number. Cleo hesitates then answers the ring. “Hello?”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t come.” It’s Everett. “You know how it is in production, but my spies tell me it’s good. Congratulations.”
Cleo’s waiting for the I’m proud of you, but when nothing comes, she says, “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
And Cleo does. She knows it’s the only thing her father can do. Talk to her over the phone and get the congratulations out of his mouth. Silence reigns looming and heavy, almost like the coming of a storm on a sunny day.
“We know how premieres are. I won’t really believe it until I see the movie with a real audience, but thank you,” Cleo says again, and then they hang up. It’s over, just like that. She heaves a sigh of relief. She took the call as if it had been from a director and not her father.
Cleo looks across the room and finds Direk Gary, her father’s longtime associate and some would say best friend—if Everett has friends. He’s looking at her. As soon as her eyes meet his, he looks away. He’s dressed for work, but his wife is well glammed up. for the premiere. Cleo doubts Gary thought the movie was good, but it’s nice of him to say so to Everett. She knows he’s the spy responsible for her father’s call.
As Cleo continues to watch him, Direk Gary gets a call. He answers. And as soon as he starts talking, he’s looking at her again.
Chapter 5
I’m Sorry, Say What Now?
When Cleo wants to know a thing, she goes straight to the source. She can’t always trust what people tell her because everyone has their own version of everything, including the truth. And in showbiz, rumors travel faster than the truth. So, the day after the premiere, she’s already decided to watch it in the nearest mall, a cinema in a middle-class neighborhood. She needs to watch it in the real world to see how it fares.
“One ticket for Doll,” Cleo says at the counter.
“What time?” the woman asks, as if Cleo’s just one of the many moviegoers. But, of course, Cleo won’t be familiar; she’s not a big star.
“The 6:45, please.”
Ticket in her bag, Cleo goes around the mall, window shopping. She wonders what it’ll feel like to be recognized by anyone at any mall. Still, there are posters of her on some of the windows of the boutiques and stores. People might recognize her from those, but most people probably won’t be able to place her.
At the mall’s activity center, Cleo hears loud jeers and cheers from a crowd. People from every floor gather around to look down into the center. Curious, she follows the uproar and squeezes herself in between them, hoping to see what’s all the fuss about. When she’s finally able to get a look, she sees it’s a movie promotional tour. Usually, the lead stars of upcoming movies promote the movie by going from one city or province to another. They share everything they can about the film, take pictures with fans, and invite lucky people to the block screening. This sort of promo also happens when a teleserye is winding down. They call it the Grand Finale Mall Show. The cast talks about the show and how much it’s been a home for them. The fans want to see the stars they’ve been watching week after week and be with other fans as their favorite show comes to an end. A big part of their lives should go out with a big farewell.
In the center of the activity, love team Jerome and Nellie a.k.a. JerLie, are holding hands and singing to the crowd. Too bad Cleo’s aunts aren’t here. She’s sure they’ll be the kind who’ll run down the escalator and wedge themselves into the jam-packed crowd. It’s amazing what love teams can do. They draw fans in by acting sweet and lovey-dovey, but then the fans want more and more from them over time. They want it to be reel to real because it’s so much kilig that way. Kilig—that wonderful butterflies feeling you get in your stomach.
“Yes, Jerome and Nellie! Now, everyone wants to know: what’s the real score between the two of you?” the host asks, and everyone screams.
Jerome smiles shyly at Nellie before pulling her close. “We’re almost there.”
Cleo swears the entire mall is fangirled. They all swoon to Jerome and Nellie, and she might have too if only it were true. But she knows it’s all for show. Jerome is secretly dating a non-showbiz person. But, of course, they can’t tell the fans. It’ll disappoint them. It’s how ratings work sometimes, but she hopes that when the time comes, and they want to go their separate ways, the fans can be happy for them.
An hour later, Cleo goes back to the cinema, buying popcorn and cola. She doesn’t mind going alone to the mall or watching a movie alone. She enjoys dating herself. She doesn’t care what anybody thinks of it. She’s her own person, and no one can change her mind.
Inside the cinema, the dim lights show Cleo that there are only, like, three people in there; a man who’s dozing off and a couple who are not at all shy with their public display of affection. She shrugs it off, thinking it’s probably because she’s ten minutes early. Most people go inside five minutes before or so before the start time. Anyway, at least she has time to relax. She can’t believe she’s doing this, but she has to know what ordinary moviegoers think. Only then will she be convinced that the film is really good.
Minutes later, as the film is about to begin, Cleo stands and looks around and sees if there’s anyone else there. There are only four of them, much to her disappointment, but then maybe they’ll show up. The love team at the activity center is probably holding them up. It’s okay. They’ll come in later. But as she watches herself unfold on the big screen, anxiety works through her nerves. She can’t help looking around at the empty seats now and then. When a shadow passes by, she thinks she was right. People were tricking in now. But as the owner of the shadow comes closer, she sees it’s the security guard.
“This is crazy,” Cleo tells herself, laughing, though she’s not quite sure why. It’s crazy because her feelings are all over the place.
The screenplay and production are good, even if it’s an indie film. Watching this movie again feels like the first time. It is beautiful and enchanting. The story, characters, cinematography, and musical scoring are perfect. The film takes the audience straight into Doll’s life, into what’s happening inside her head. She’s a psychiatrist who hopes to help a mentally challenged family, but each time she talks with them, she feels less and less safe. Finally, she realizes she’s not safe at all. In the end, a revelation of her true identity: she’s not a psychiatrist but a patient in the ward.
The editing is phenomenal. They didn’t have a big budget, but it was worth every moment of her time. She doesn’t regret doing any of this, not even if there is a squeezing pain in her heart telling her she isn’t good enough to be watched. It’s agonizing to watch it with a sleeping person and a couple who can’t get over themselves, but it’s even more excruciating for her if she doesn’t keep trying.
Thankfully, when the end credits roll, sleepy man and amorous couple get up and leave. Meanwhile, Cleo stands up like a newly resurrected phoenix in front of the cinema The story is good, but maybe her acting just didn’t make the grade. She’d thought her trailers were good, but . . . . Oh, well. Maybe this is just a sign that it’s time to find something that’s really for her. And it’s okay. She’s game to try other things. She can even produce a movie or TV series. Sometimes, she needs to be her number one fan because if she isn’t, how will she survive in showbiz? Armed with this determination, she can say she walked out of the cinema with her head held high. She’s jolted out of her reverie by slow clapping. Not so slow as to be insulting. But not so fast that anyone can confuse that sound for enthusiasm.
The lights haven’t come up yet. She can’t see much as she walks up the aisle. Eventually, she sees Direk Gary in the middle of the back row.
“Direk Gary.”
Director Gary Hillaro had been kind of a fixture in Cleo’s life. Her dad would come home with Director Gary to tell their family everything about their day. Director Gary’s son Jake was the industry’s hottest male star. His daughter Guinevere, Jake’s twin, was in some sort of beauty camp for pageantry. Cleo’s dad loved Director Gary’s family so much that she usually had to scramble crumbs of his attention whenever their families had Sunday dinner nights.
Cleo remembers being close with Jake and Guinevere, and to whom opportunities usually came on a silver platter. Jake had been charming and charismatic, so it was easy for him to become king of the TV screen. For her part, Guinevere had her mother’s fierce beauty and was an alpha just like her brother. Their family had always been on the magazines and billboards, practically the industry’s royal family. And all Cleo can say is, “Sana all,” an expression of hope that everyone would have the same chance to reach those heights
Direk Everett’s attention had always been on Direk Gary’s family, so when Guinevere and Jake were on their chosen paths, they kind of forgot about Cleo, the rookie of all time. She used to play house with them until they focused on their workshops and runways. Direk Everett forgot he had his own family when the Hillaro clan became even more prominent, more than firmly established in a life full of lights, camera, action.
“I didn’t know you were here,” Cleo says. “Thank you for letting Direk Everett know about the movie.”
Direk Gary crosses his legs. “I didn’t come here for the movie. I came for you.”
“What?”
“I called your house, and Thea told me I could find you here. Sure enough, you’re here,” Direk Gary says, looking at the end credits. “I’ll be honest, Cleo. This indie film of yours is a flop.”
“It isn’t a flop,” Cleo assures Direk Gary. But even now she’s not sure who she’s trying to convince—him, or her.
“Whatever. Don’t you get it, Cleo?”
“Don’t get what?” Cleo asks. She wants to ask what he wants from her, and why did he come all the way here to tell her the movie was already a flop?
That’s what she wants—someone to tell her the truth, but she wasn’t prepared for it to come from someone close to her father.
“Where you went wrong.”
Cleo lets out a nervous laugh. There are a few reasons the movie might have gone wrong, but those same reasons might also explain why the production company decided to take a riskier path. Their aim was to make the story come through, nothing more or less.
“What do you want to say, Direk Gary? Did Direk Everett send you here?” Cleo asks, tired of going around in circles. If he wants to say something, she wished he’d just say it already.
Direk Gary smiles at Cleo. “Now, not everything has to be about you and your father. That’s not really what you want, is it?”
Cleo doesn’t say anything.
“I thought so. I came here because I wanted to see how you’re doing. You’re a smart girl, Cleo. You don’t settle with just a premiere. If there’s one way in which you and your father are most alike, it’s that you make things happen.”
Cleo shrugs. “I don’t. I just try.”
“Listen. You’ve spent years on the runway. You’re a veteran. You have stage presence, which is great, but it’s not the same as a screen presence. Look at how they edited that flip-flop commercial.”
This feels like what Cleo needs to hear: the unabridged version of the truth. “Go on.”
Direk Gary stands in front of her. “You’re twenty-four, Cleo. To be a leading lady by this point in your life, you need to start younger.”
“There’s more to being an actress than being a leading lady,” Cleo retorts. But for once, she wants to be what Direk Gary’s kids are—famous, loved by everyone.
Direk Gary looks skeptical, though. “Maybe. For some actresses.”
“I’ll think about what you said. Thank you,” Cleo responds. She appreciates his thoughts. At least someone finally gave their honest two cents. Of course, it’s better than nothing, but her mind’s made up. Cleo is moving on. She will stop chasing ticket sales or fantasies of being the next big star. But perhaps she should try being a producer or director. She is, after all, Everett’s daughter.
It’s about time Cleo does something different. She’s been chasing this dream for so long it might not even be real for her anymore, and she can’t just continually self-destruct. She has to help herself rediscover what she’s meant for, and it’s not acting.
“I’ll see you around, Cleo Walter,” Direk Gary bids his goodbye, leaving Cleo alone in the cinema. She brings out her cinema ticket and stares at it, thinking that the film’s title fits her perfectly. She’s a doll, only for display and never for action. She can be played and tossed around, but in the end, she’ll still be stationary—only moving when others tell her to. She refuses to be just a doll—a pretty thing to look at. She wants to be the mountain, the one that takes their breath away.
