He thought he knew how to run. One foot in front of the other, a bit faster than walking from point A to point B. By now, after countless music videos with him running towards a girl, away from the law, sideways into a pool, he should have this running game down and memorized. Running away from fake terrorists along with Chris O’Donnell for his guest role on NCIS:LA has schooled him in running.

“Cut!” the director called and Ross collapsed onto the sandy beach where they were filming for the day. “Run it one more time!”

Ross lifted his head and groaned at the announcement. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“You get used to it, kid,” Chris laughed at his exhausted state and offered him a hand to get him back on his feet. “After this week, you’ll be in the best shape of your life. Ask Eric.”

“I know running. Running is supposed to be easy. How,” Ross took a deep breath, trying to settle his heart rate. “How are you able to do this day after day.”

“Like I said, you get used to it.”

They walked back down to the end of the boardwalk, with the fake terrorists by their side. He had been right. His first audition of that fateful day, which he liked to refer to as the ‘Ross Conquers LA Traffic’ Day, was for this show and he was ecstatic when they called him back for the role and he booked it. Much like Riker had jumped on the coffee table, Ross had jumped on top of his car and started dancing about it.

“Okay, everyone. One more time. One last run,” the director announced and Chris patted his back. “Ross, can you make sure you stumble just a bit so Chris can save your ass in this scene? It’s in the script, man.”

Saluting as a confirmation, the makeup team stepped back and he was ready to bolt once again.

“And, action!”

“Keep up kid!” Chris ran his lines perfectly, the stunt actors close behind them.

“If I was any faster, I’d be the Flash, G.”

“That would help actually,” Chris recited his lines just as Ross stumbled on the block of concrete sticking out from the boardwalk. “Damn it.”

The scene continued on, line after line, cameras following them along for the ride, and fake gun shots going off. This scene was honestly, one of the coolest he had even been a part of. It even topped the one from yesterday when his character, a Tom of some sort, had snuck into a CIA headquarters set on the sound stage as part of his storyline and the episode. He’d always wanted to be a super secret agent one day. Bucket list check.

Twenty minutes later, when the director yelled cut again, Ross was back on the sand. Still out of breath and not reaching for anyone’s hand just yet, he felt the buzzing in his back pocket. A groan escaped his lips and he shifted himself to pull it out.

“Ross. Call me ASAP. Movie news!” his agent texted to his phone.

“Ok, kids. Take a break. We’re coming back in 10 for Sam, G, and Tom’s scene with Kensi,” the director once again called and it gave him the opportunity to return the call before his agent went ballistic on him. The phone didn’t even ring once before his agent picked up.

“That was the quickest pick up in history,” Ross commented, picking himself up from the sand.

“Ross! Thank God you called back. You got it, you got the role!” Stella told him outright, not stringing him along for anything.

“What role?”

“The super secret movie, Ross. You’re Rory!”

“You’re shitting me.”

“No, I’m not. Ryan Andrews, the casting director just called me. The role is yours.”

“Holy crap. I didn’t think I would get it.”

“You did. Congrats, Ross.”

“Thanks. I’m insane crapping my pants about this.”

“There’s a catch though. You can not tell anyone. Not even your family.”

“Wait, what? Now you’re shitting me.”

“Not shitting you. This is an insanely super secret movie. The plot, the cast, even the other cast members don’t know the other cast members. They’re announcing the full cast and movie plot at a conference in a week. I will send you all the information, actually...I’ll messenger it to you. Email can be hacked. I’m typing it up right now.”

“Hacked? This movie is so maniacal and I love it,” Ross told Stella, picking up a few grapes from the craft services table before heading back out into the sun. “Are you sending it to my house?”

“No, the set. I know your mom, Ross. She’ll tear into it. I don’t blame her one bit, but the studio is paranoid about anything getting out.”

“Got it. Thanks Stella.”

“Anytime. I’ll talk to you later.”

Hanging up the phone, Ross let his goofy smile engulf his face. That goofy smile that, if young fans were around him would say that he only got when Austin Moon was around Ally Dawson. Resisting the urge to yell out in triumph, he got back to the sand and Chris and LL Cool J immediately knew something was up.

“You’re acting weird,” Chris commented.

“How so?”

“I don’t know...just weird. Quit that and get back to the annoying Tom that’s in the script.”

“On it.”

+++

Ross glanced at the schedule in his hands while at a red light on his way home for the day. There was a plot. In his hands. And a character description. And he couldn’t be more excited. During the initial audition, while he was hoping to get the role, he was also real worried about it too. Without any information about the project, there was always a chance that it would be a big cheesy mess and he definitely wanted to stray away from that. Hell, he didn’t do cheesy anymore. At 24, he was as far away from cheesy as he could possibly get...within reason, of course. Sometimes, a good romance role did come up and if there was ever a chance for him to portray Romeo, he’d be first in line and taking out any other actor who got in his way for it.

The project was tentatively called Ten and he could be playing Dr. Rordan “Rory” McLaren, a holistic doctor who treats the untreatable. Ten centered on, as you could tell, ten people who mysteriously disappeared from the Earth. No paper trails, no evidence of foul play, no bodies - they just disappeared and when they do wake, they’re still on Earth, but in a far different world than they remembered.

A beep from behind him made him pay attention once again to the road, moving his car into the vacant centimeter the car ahead of him had occupied. Rolling his eyes at the driver behind him, Ross got back to the schedule. It was a weird schedule. No talking, or hinting about the project to anyone. At noon on Friday next week, the cast would be announced to the world and after that, they were on social media lockdown as well. If the cast were questioned about it outside of the conference, they couldn’t. The week after that, he would be on one more plane to South Africa, where they would be filming for about four months. He sure hell hoped that he liked his cast mates...or at least just one. Crap, shots. He would have to get shots again, and the malaria pills were not something he was looking forward to.

Driving past his exit and heading to the next (he didn’t miss it, this exit was just easier), Ross placed the packet of papers on the passenger seat and drove home. As soon as he walked through his door, his mom would be on him about the papers, among the other questions about how work was today.

“Besides running my weight in the hot sun and wearing leather all over, it was fine,” he muttered to himself, just a right turn away from the house. He really wanted to tell his mom about the role. Really, really wanted to.

+++

“And that’s a wrap,” Daniel Warton, director of the highly-acclaimed First Aid mini-series called out. “Woohoo!”

Younger than you would expect most directors to be, Laura Marano smirked as he wooed and high-fived his way around the crew and cast as the last scene finally wrapped. She had worked for two seasons on the limited series and was sad to see it end. Playing the role of Jennifer Sutton, a seamstress in a small Georgia town, who finds her family in the midst of a modern day war, she had made lifelong friends and it would be hard to not come to work tomorrow as the southern belle. When Daniel came to her, she high-fived him right back, hearing the slap and feeling the burn on her palm.

“Remember people, unofficial wrap party at my restaurant tonight!” actor Freddie Stroma announced over Daniel’s celebration. Even though he was the dreamiest Briton Laura had encountered, a terrific actor, and smart beyond words (almost brain surgeon!), she knew food was his true passion. Even though nobody knew that it was his, or about it in general, she was convinced that the food there was from heaven. In part, she was kind of glad no one knew about it, just so she could sneak off there and eat double her weight in the yummy concoctions that she could only dream of before. “You’re coming right?” he turned to her.

“You know I wouldn’t miss it,” Laura hugged him tight. “Plus, you owe me a glass of red.”

“I do, don’t I?”

Laura smiled big as Daniel came back to the duo, who brought Jennifer and her sometimes lover Lamont to life on the show.

“You too,” Freddie insisted of the director.

“I shall be there, with bells and whistles on.”

“I do not doubt that,” Laura told him before her phone went off ringing a track from Bye Bye Birdie. Looking back up at the guys in front of her, she blushed. “Don’t judge me. I will never get over how perfect Hugo was.”

Laura turned away and started to walk into a quieter part of the set to see what the call was about. “Hi Chris,” she greeted her agent.

“Laura!” Chris answered back in an excited way that Laura had never heard before. Not even when she booked First Aid was Chris this excited. “Are you sitting down?”

“No.”

“Well, do it.”

“Chris, just tell me.”

“You remember that mysterious movie audition that I told you you shouldn’t even go on because there was no plot or anything sent to us but you insisted on going because you weren’t above auditioning which...”

“Chris!”

“You got the role, Laura. You’ll be playing Magellan Snow in this movie.”

“What? I got it?! Oh my God!” Now it was Laura’s turn to be excited. She jumped up and down in the hallway, taking the phone away from her ear to do a little dance. “I’m so excited!”

“I can tell. Anyhow, the whole project is still clouded in this shroud of mystery and I’ll have you know, I’m still skeptical, but I know you’re happy about it, so I am too. Thing is that you still can’t say anything about the project. To anyone.”

Laura was silent on the other end, waiting for Chris’s usual warning.

“Not even Vanessa,” there it was. “You were waiting for that, weren’t you?”

“Every time,” she told him.

“Seriously, you can’t. The cast and plot are being announced at a press conference next Friday and I’m sending you all the information by messenger, because yes, shroud of mystery. It’ll be at your place later tonight.”

“Do you know what time? I have that wrap party at Freddie’s restaurant.”

“Should be within one, two hours.”

“Great, than I will be there. Thanks Chris.”

“Anytime babe. Talk to you soon.”

“Bye,” Laura hung up her phone, heading straight to Twitter to post something witty but was blocked by a text from Chris.

No Social Media!

Crap.

+++

“How does it always end up being you and me with the last bottle of wine?” Freddie asked her, leaning back in a booth in the middle of the restaurant as the rest of the crew and cast mingled with each other before calling it a night.

“I actually think you hide the last bottle of wine for just these sorts of things.”

“You may be on to something,” he winked at her, lifting the bottle. “Can I fill you up?”

“Just a little. I still have to drive home.”

“You didn’t Uber?”

“No. I’m perfectly capable of driving myself to and from places.”

“Also helps that you don’t drink like...well, like the rest of us,” he motioned to their HBO family who weren’t drop dead drunk, but still tipsy beyond the normal. “Have to admit, I admire that.”

“Thanks Freddie,” she clinked her glass against his and brought it to her lips.

“So, Jennifer,” he referred to her as her character. “Any new projects coming up for you?”

Laura stopped drinking then. Looking over at him, she knew she couldn’t tell him anything, but she really wanted to. Really, really, really wanted to. She couldn’t tell Vanessa, but maybe she could tell him...but then Chris and her mom, and her manager and her publicist would be livid. She could just imagine it -- even before the conference, she would be fired by the first director she’d really wanted to work with. Nope, not saying anything.

“I have a couple of prospects,” she told him, which wasn’t a complete lie. She did have prospects...which included a cryptic movie that may or may not have a plot. “What about you?”

“I’m actually headed home to England for a while. I have a stint on stage in a Panto.”

“I love Pantos. Which play?”

“You’re going to laugh at it.”

“Which you know is the best part of me.”

“True,” Freddie took a drink of his wine before telling her. “It’s Snow White.”

Laura couldn’t help it. She couldn’t help it, a little laugh escaped her mouth and her eyes when he told her. “I love Snow White. Are you going to be The Prince?”

“No, not the Prince. I think I’ve had enough of playing a prince,” he admitted.

Which was technically true, as Laura thought of it. After playing a pseudo prince in one of the Cinderella Story movies, he moved on to another prince in a new fairy tale movie event, and then another in a special adaption of a book. Then there was Cinderella’s prince for a holiday special. She was almost convinced that Freddie could actually be a prince for real since he’d played so many of them on the screen and stage.

“I’m one of the main guards and it’s honestly, a better role than The Prince. We get to go out to the audience and order them to do things.”

“Best part of the Panto.”

“You know it,” he lifted his glass again, emptying the clear vessel of it’s contents. “Tell me about these prospects you speak of.”

“Well,” Laura got comfy on the seat of the booth and just as she was about to speak, their co-star Cassandra Leung slipped in and stole the last bottle from Freddie’s hand, not bothering with a glass and drinking it from the bottle.

“You two need to come and dance with us. It’s boring without Laura’s dancing.”

Freddie snorted at the comment.

“Hey!”

“She’s not wrong,” he told her and grabbed her hand, pulling her to the outside patio where not many people remained, but the good ones were still around. Heading straight into the crowd, there was no way she was escaping. So she danced, and danced, and danced the night away.

+++

Thursday. 10 a.m.

Coffee cups were spread around the conference table and he swore he wasn’t going to go to sleep for the next five years. He insisted that he needed coffee when he arrived at Stella’s office at 7 a.m. and was bombarded with way too much in return. But he had drank all of it and it was the sole reason his leg was twitching, not because he had to use the restroom or because he was nervous about the movie. Okay, maybe it was a bit about the restroom, but he wanted to get through signing all the contracts and going through the fine print before he turned 50 and before Rydel’s class let out so he could meet her for lunch.

“And this one, on this page. Initial, date, sign,” Stella’s assistant, Stephanie, told him. “This contract basically gets you the money promised.”

Ross nodded, filling out his name with ease and waited for the next.

“Same as before, on...this page and this page,” she flipped between the front and the back of the stapled papers. “This one is all about South Africa and rules and such. This one you will have to read through again though. It basically tells you there’s no family visiting for about four months, and if there is, they have to be cleared by the studio and know all the details.”

Ross stared back at her before signing this one. “What? It’s like I’m being tracked.”

“Pretty much.”

“Can I really read this one before I sign it and bring it to you tomorrow?”

“Yea, you can do that. But we need it before the conference tomorrow. If the studio doesn’t have it, they won’t announce you.”

He furrowed his brow, his mouth lopsided.

“I know. I’m just as confused.”

+++

Laura signed all the contracts with ease, not worrying about what the contracts actually said. She had done this before - college, super secret roles, not seeing family for weeks or months at a time. She knew that the whole cast would have their own assistants on the set and that was good enough for her. Sure, she’d definitely miss her sister and her parents, but as an actress they all knew the strains and challenges. She knew that this movie was worth it.

“Done,” she slid the contract back over to

, her arm raised up in achievement. “Please tell me that’s a record in signing a bajillion contracts.”

“I don’t think it’s ever been measured, doll,” Chris smirked at her, double checking and making sure everything was signed, dated and delivered.

“It should be. We should start now.”

“You want a plaque?”

“Nah, nothing too fancy. Maybe a blue ribbon?”

“I’ll get right on that,” Chris told her, stacking up the contracts and passing them along to another agent who was in the room with them. “So, tomorrow. I need you at the hotel at 6. Your glam team will already be there with clothes and everything. Honestly, if you came in your pajamas, I would not even care.”

“I would,” Laura said. “I’m pretty sure the hotel staff would be giving me weird looks and...”

“Go with something comfy. Nothing too dressy. It’s just an arrival and no one will be there at 6 besides you, me, your glam and your publicist and well, yea, no pajamas. Comfy, though, okay? Make me look like a super model at 6 a.m.”

“Got it."

“Do that and maybe you’ll get that ribbon.”