still on her face.
“Oh, I’m a horrible actress. No aspirations there.”
“Sarah,” Chris called. “I want you sitting here.” As she sat where he wanted, he turned back to a crew member. “Can you bounce the light from this side of her face? Let’s do a light test.”
“How long do you think you’ll be shooting for?” Clémence asked Sophie.
She shrugged. “Depends. He’s pretty meticulous, so we could be doing take after take. Unless it’s one of those rare days when he loves everything that we do and we can all just call it a day after two takes. I doubt it though. This is a bit of an emotional scene too. Fingers crossed that I nail it.”
“Break a leg.”
The actors took their places. They ran through the scene once before the director began rolling.
“Light? Camera. Action!”
Clémence read the most recent story about the French president’s love life in the newspaper. He’d left his long-term girlfriend for a French movie star. The ex had just released a tell-all memoir about her time with the president, and it had caused a national scandal. Clémence didn’t understand what it was about him that made these beautiful, intelligent women fight over him. She supposed power was a strong aphrodisiac. In any case, the president’s love life was dramatic enough to deserve a movie of its own.
After seven takes, Clémence was starting to get bored. She was reading the same newspaper articles over and over again. How did these actresses maintain their energy levels to do a great job in every take? Clémence realized she had it easy, reading Le Monde and fake-drinking espresso.
On the fifteenth take, the director was finally happy. He wanted to shoot close-ups of the same scene immediately, which meant the actresses had to say the same lines again.
Clémence had always imagined movie making to be glamorous and exciting. It was, to a certain extent, but sitting there listening to the actresses on repeat and reading about the president’s ex lamenting over her heartbreak was taking a toll on Clémence. Sophie did tell her it would be grueling, but she didn’t realize that meant boring. She was starting to respect actors a little more, for their patience and their skill.
When that scene was finally done, they were able to take a short break as the crew set up for another shot in the café.
More fans had gathered on the street. Many were leaning over on the gate to take pictures, and security did their best to contain them. Sarah convinced Sophie to go greet the fans and take some pictures. Sophie was surprisingly shy, but she agreed. If she was going to be a movie star, she might as well get used to the attention and the fans.
After they signed some autographs and took pictures with their fans, they ducked back into the café. Sophie led Sarah into the very back. Clémence followed, knowing that this was Sophie’s way of getting Sarah to talk to her alone.
“Amazing job,” Clémence said to the two of them. “You guys did a bazillion takes.”
“I could say the same for you,” Sarah said.
“Yes. Pretending to drink coffee does require a certain skill,” Clémence joked.
“Excuse me, girls. Drinking all that fake wine comes with consequences.” Sophie went downstairs to use the restroom.
Clémence was left alone with Sarah. They chitchatted about the movie industry, and Clémence acted extra interested, since her cover was that she wanted to learn about it for her career change. She told Sarah that she hoped to get into producing films someday. Clémence could, if she wanted to, so it wasn’t a complete lie. Since she had the Damour fortune, she did have enough money to invest in a film should she ever want to.
“But right now, you’re a baker?” Sarah asked. “How cute.”
Clémence couldn’t help but find Sarah cute too. She was one of those perky blondes whose smile was infectious.
“It’s fun,” Clémence said. “But I’m one of those people who have a lot of
“Oh, I’m a horrible actress. No aspirations there.”
“Sarah,” Chris called. “I want you sitting here.” As she sat where he wanted, he turned back to a crew member. “Can you bounce the light from this side of her face? Let’s do a light test.”
“How long do you think you’ll be shooting for?” Clémence asked Sophie.
She shrugged. “Depends. He’s pretty meticulous, so we could be doing take after take. Unless it’s one of those rare days when he loves everything that we do and we can all just call it a day after two takes. I doubt it though. This is a bit of an emotional scene too. Fingers crossed that I nail it.”
“Break a leg.”
The actors took their places. They ran through the scene once before the director began rolling.
“Light? Camera. Action!”
Clémence read the most recent story about the French president’s love life in the newspaper. He’d left his long-term girlfriend for a French movie star. The ex had just released a tell-all memoir about her time with the president, and it had caused a national scandal. Clémence didn’t understand what it was about him that made these beautiful, intelligent women fight over him. She supposed power was a strong aphrodisiac. In any case, the president’s love life was dramatic enough to deserve a movie of its own.
After seven takes, Clémence was starting to get bored. She was reading the same newspaper articles over and over again. How did these actresses maintain their energy levels to do a great job in every take? Clémence realized she had it easy, reading Le Monde and fake-drinking espresso.
On the fifteenth take, the director was finally happy. He wanted to shoot close-ups of the same scene immediately, which meant the actresses had to say the same lines again.
Clémence had always imagined movie making to be glamorous and exciting. It was, to a certain extent, but sitting there listening to the actresses on repeat and reading about the president’s ex lamenting over her heartbreak was taking a toll on Clémence. Sophie did tell her it would be grueling, but she didn’t realize that meant boring. She was starting to respect actors a little more, for their patience and their skill.
When that scene was finally done, they were able to take a short break as the crew set up for another shot in the café.
More fans had gathered on the street. Many were leaning over on the gate to take pictures, and security did their best to contain them. Sarah convinced Sophie to go greet the fans and take some pictures. Sophie was surprisingly shy, but she agreed. If she was going to be a movie star, she might as well get used to the attention and the fans.
After they signed some autographs and took pictures with their fans, they ducked back into the café. Sophie led Sarah into the very back. Clémence followed, knowing that this was Sophie’s way of getting Sarah to talk to her alone.
“Amazing job,” Clémence said to the two of them. “You guys did a bazillion takes.”
“I could say the same for you,” Sarah said.
“Yes. Pretending to drink coffee does require a certain skill,” Clémence joked.
“Excuse me, girls. Drinking all that fake wine comes with consequences.” Sophie went downstairs to use the restroom.
Clémence was left alone with Sarah. They chitchatted about the movie industry, and Clémence acted extra interested, since her cover was that she wanted to learn about it for her career change. She told Sarah that she hoped to get into producing films someday. Clémence could, if she wanted to, so it wasn’t a complete lie. Since she had the Damour fortune, she did have enough money to invest in a film should she ever want to.
“But right now, you’re a baker?” Sarah asked. “How cute.”
Clémence couldn’t help but find Sarah cute too. She was one of those perky blondes whose smile was infectious.
“It’s fun,” Clémence said. “But I’m one of those people who have a lot of
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