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Behind The Spotlight

Chapter 91 New
Behind The Spotlight Chapter 91

Lawrence stepped into the studio with sunglasses on, shielding his slightly tired eyes. He was greeted by the crew members. The females, in particular, smiled brightly and eagerly as they welcomed him.

Lawrence greeted them back. His smile was so attractive and effortlessly charming that they blushed. His beauty was out of this world, a kind of charm that couldn't be ignored.

He reached his trailer, which was located inside the filming studio. He had personally requested it to ensure privacy and a quiet place to prepare before each shoot.

Before he could step inside, he was greeted by the director of Trapping the Parents, Director Alvarez, who smiled warmly at his lead actor.

"Lawrence, congratulations! Passionate Island grossed over $1 billion!"

"Haha, I got lucky. The movie was great, and the audience really connected with the story."

"You're one of the reasons why it became a success, no doubt about that. In my opinion, your performance as Jacky is the biggest factor behind its huge success. The fact that they used you as the face of the promotion speaks for itself. The audience fell in love with you, passionately."

"Thanks, Director Alvarez. I appreciate it a lot."

Lawrence smiled genuinely.

At first, Lawrence felt awkward working with Director Alvarez, considering he had been rejected by him the last time. However, as they worked together, he realized that Alvarez wasn't bad at all.

Although it was true that Director Alvarez had weaker talent compared to Thomas and Wyatt when it came to filmmaking and grand storytelling vision. Lawrence couldn't quite explain it, but he just knew.

Having worked with two amazing directors whom he considered the best, Lawrence had developed a refined sense for evaluating a director's talent. His expectations had naturally become higher.

Alvarez had a Yellow Talent, which was Visual Storytelling. His strength lay in translating scripts into compelling visuals using colors, backgrounds, lighting, and composition to convey emotions and narrative.

Many critics were impressed by his directorial work and praised the cinematography and framing. Unfortunately, his talent didn't strongly correlate with box office performance or audience connection. That was why his last film, Romea and Julieta, flopped despite its stunning visuals.

But this time, Director Alvarez had cast someone as talented as Lawrence. He had known the moment he saw Lawrence at the audition last year that the actor had something special. He had been right to trust his instincts… but he didn't cast him then, and that missed opportunity still haunted him.

It was one of his regrets, the kind that lingered late at night.

Since then, Director Alvarez had used Lawrence's appearance to enhance the visuals in nearly every key scene of the movie. In fact, whenever Lawrence was on screen, the scenes radiated an unexplainable charm and presence.

"Well then, Director, I'll excuse myself. I need to change clothes and get to makeup before we start filming."

"Alright, let's do our best today."

The director nodded and excused himself politely, heading off to speak with the cinematographer about camera angles and finalize their lighting choices for the upcoming scenes.

Trapping the Parents was a romantic film filled with warmth and light humor. However, the main characters were actually the twins, played by a talented child actress.

The story followed twin sisters who had been separated at birth due to their parents' divorce. When they accidentally met, they discovered the truth about their family's broken past. Wanting to reunite their parents, they switched places and attempted to understand each parent more deeply, uncovering the reasons behind the separation. They then launched a mischievous plan to bring their parents back together through clever tricks and emotional encounters.

Lawrence played the father, a serious and hardworking winemaker.

He sat down in the chair and removed his sunglasses. Looking in the mirror, he sighed. His eyes were red from staying up too late. He had partied all night with his new friends and some strangers he couldn't even remember. The lingering effects of weed didn't help either, his head was still slightly spinning.

Lawrence was now a superstar, and he wanted to have fun. He had begun attending parties, embracing the luxurious lifestyle that came with fame. Sometimes, he was invited to extravagant gatherings and hooked up with beautiful women who admired him for his status and looks.

It was amazing, fun in a surreal kind of way. But Lawrence also understood that he needed to control his impulses. He had a job to do. At the very least, he had to stay away from drugs, since they could affect his acting.

'I heard that some actors take drugs to get into character and feel emotions more deeply, but I don't know how that works,' Lawrence said to himself.

Then, someone knocked on his door softly.

"The door's open. You can come in, I'm inside," he called out.

The makeup artist entered, greeting him with a smile and a cheerful good morning. Lawrence gave a small nod in response.

He sat up straight and let the makeup artist work without saying much. She carefully hid the signs of exhaustion on his face, layering on foundation and concealer. To treat the redness in his eyes, she applied eye drops. A special redness-reducing drops that constrict blood vessels, making actors look refreshed and alert on camera.

Lawrence's personal assistant arrived shortly after, holding a cup of coffee.

"Sir," he said respectfully.

"Thanks," Lawrence replied, taking the drink and nodding in appreciation.

He sipped the coffee slowly, letting its warmth help clear his head.

Once the makeup was done, Lawrence stepped out of the trailer. Filming would begin soon, and the crew was already preparing for the scene. He read over his script to remind himself of today's scenes and began internalizing his lines.

"Okay, Lohan, you'll talk to your dad about why you don't have a mother in this scene."

Director Alvarez knelt to speak with the young actress, explaining what she needed to do and how to express the right emotions.

"Okay, sir."

"You memorized your lines, right?"

"Yes," she nodded confidently.

Lawrence was now in costume, dressed in a neat suit appropriate for his character, a winemaker.

"Lights, camera, action!"

Lawrence's demeanor changed instantly. Sitting on a stylish sofa, he read a newspaper with composed body language. His daughter entered, but what he didn't know was that this girl wasn't the daughter he had raised. The twins had secretly switched places.

"Dad, where's my mom?"

"Honey… We've already talked about this."

Despite being only 22, Lawrence's makeup made him look older and more mature, like a man in his late 20s. His acting was amazing and believable as he tried to gently console his daughter.

"Your mommy and I were together once upon a time, but things didn't work out. We had too many differences. She had to go her own way, and I did the same, for both our sakes."

"Can I meet her?"

"Well… about that…"

Lawrence's performance was so convincing that he seemed genuinely at a loss for how to explain that the girl had a twin sister she never knew existed.

"Cut! That's a wrap on this scene. No need for a reshoot. You both did great on the first take."

Director Alvarez clapped his hands in satisfaction. As expected, when Lawrence was in the scene, everything reached a higher level. The emotional impact was undeniable. Now, more than ever, the director understood just how talented Lawrence truly was.

Lohan, the little girl, beamed with happiness. The shoot had gone smoothly and was much more enjoyable. Unlike her scenes with the actress playing her "mother," who was sometimes stiff or overly nervous.

"Thank you, Lawrence," she said sweetly.

"It's fine. You're doing great," Lawrence replied with a reassuring smile.
 
Chapter 92 New
Behind The Spotlight Chapter 92

"This is the address, right?"

Jennifer asked her assistant, and the woman nodded. They were sitting in a van parked at the side of a gravel road, driven by an employee of The Singing Voice production team.

"This is the place. Dallas County, Alabama," one of the production team members said while looking at a worn and folded map, creased from all their traveling. The address was correct, and after asking around the nearby area, they confirmed they were indeed in the right place.

The team stepped out of the van and were met with the sight of wide pastures stretching far into the horizon. Jennifer looked around... Almost everything in sight was open land, except for a single house and a barn.

Two horses approached them, each ridden by a person. A man and a woman, both seemingly in their thirties, looking like they had stepped straight out of a Western movie.

"Howdy."

"Is this the place where Lucas Miller lives?" one of the team members asked.

"Yes. In fact, you're talking to him."

Lucas, the man on the horse, dismounted and greeted them with a firm handshake and a warm smile. He seemed friendly and approachable, with a clean-shaven jaw and a deep voice. His outfit fit the cowboy aesthetic perfectly, boots, a hat, and a denim jacket. The woman on the other horse wore a similar rodeo-style outfit.

"You signed up for an audition for The Singing Voice, is that right?"

The assistant director, who led the team, asked Lucas some questions while flipping through a stack of documents.

Lucas had submitted a videotape of himself singing, and the show deemed him worthy to audition. He had a good voice with a strong country tone. According to his résumé, he was an average man from a small town, exactly the kind of contestant the show loved to feature. The type of story that resonated with viewers: an underdog trying to make it big.

It was the classic "rags-to-riches" narrative. A poor man chasing his dream of becoming a famous singer, people loved that.

Since Lucas checked most of the boxes for a compelling story, the team traveled all the way to Alabama to interview him and capture the essence of his daily life.

They found a scenic spot for the shoot, with peaceful green pastures stretching into the distance under the afternoon light.

"So, Lucas, when did you start singing?"

"When I was seven. I saw Jackson Mike singing on TV, and I decided I wanted to be like him."

"Hm, that's a nice story."

Jennifer nodded... Honestly, it was a mediocre story, but she didn't let it bother her. Her job on the show was to interview the contestants and get them to talk naturally. Thankfully, all expenses were covered by the production such as accommodations, food, and almost everything. So she didn't have to pay a cent from her own pocket.

She had only been working this job for three weeks, and she had to admit, it was exhausting. Traveling from state to state every other day, sometimes even coast to coast. It was not an easy gig.

Lucas was the fifth contestant they'd interviewed in Alabama.

The camera was rolling, and Jennifer asked another question.

"So, do you have a sad story you want to share with us?"

"When I found out that my Mom and Dad were actually related... They were third cousins. I can't believe they hid that from me for so many years."

"..."

'I have no idea what to say about that. I mean, how do you even respond to something like this? Should I cry or something? What the hell is even happening in Alabama?' Jennifer thought.

"And what about her? Is she your wife?"

Jennifer pointed to the woman on the horse. Lucas blushed and shook his head.

"No, no, she's not my wife. At least, not yet. We're still dating. I'm actually thinking of proposing to her if I get an amazing performance at the audition."

The camera captured his flustered reaction and the shy smile he tried to hide.

"That's sweet. I'm sure you will do great. What's her name?"

"Her name is Sarah Miller."

"Ah, what a nice name—excuse me? Did you just say her name is Sarah Miller? Miller? As in you guys have the same surname?"

"Yes. She's my cousin."

"..."

Jennifer was speechless and glanced at the assistant director, who gave her a subtle nod and a strained smile, signaling her to keep going.

'I swear, I have no idea what's happening here. Is Alabama really like this? Or is this just some stereotype.'

Sweet home Alabama. It's not romantic unless it's blood-related. Incest is Wincest type shit of a state.

Despite the bizarre revelations, Jennifer continued the interview. She was getting paid, and she wasn't about to let some cousin-lovers screw up her paycheck. Besides, this wasn't the most insane interview she'd done. She once tried interviewing a woman who was high on fentanyl... Imagine how that turned out. Spoiler alert: not great.

So, Jennifer carried on with her job like a true professional, never letting even the slightest discomfort show on camera.

.........
......
...

September 1997.

Axel exhaled deeply as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He was tense. After so many years, one of the private investigators he hired finally found a lead. He had gone through multiple detectives over the years, but none had found his ex-wife and son. It was like Cynthia and John had disappeared off the face of the earth.

Now, he was driving toward a trailer park. A residential area where mobile homes were parked closely together.

He pulled over to a corner and immediately noticed a young boy being beaten up by older kids. Axel recognized the boy right away, it was John, his five-year-old son. The eyes, the nose, the face... Axel remembered it all perfectly.

He jumped out of the car and yelled in a commanding voice.

"Hey! What are you doing!?"

He ran toward them, and the bullies quickly scattered, shouting insults as they fled.

"Son of a cracker whore!" they laughed as they disappeared around the corner.

Axel didn't bother chasing them. Instead, he hurried to John, who was on the ground with a bloody nose and scraped knees.

"John, are you okay?"

The boy wiped the blood from his nose with the back of his hand. He was small for his age, and it was clear he was malnourished. His ribcage was far too visible.

"John, are you okay?"

Axel tried to touch his face, but the boy instinctively stepped back, like he was afraid of him.

"Mister, who are you?"

"Huh?"

Axel felt like he had been punched in the gut.

The boy looked confused. To him, Axel was just some stranger. A rich stranger, at that. His car was too clean, his shirt too crisp, and his cologne smelled too good. He clearly didn't belong here.

"John, it's me. Your Dad."

"John? My name is Johnny. I don't know you, Mister."

"..."

Axel was speechless. He had learned that Cynthia had changed both her and John's identities, but it still hurt to realize his own son didn't recognize him. Not even a little.
 
Chapter 93 New
Behind The Spotlight Chapter 93

"It's me, your Dad. I'm Axel. Did your mother not tell you about me?" Axel asked in a gentle tone, hoping to spark even a flicker of recognition or memory in the child's expression.

Considering that John was only two years old when Axel and Cynthia separated, it was understandable that he didn't remember much about his father. Memories at that age were fragile, fleeting and often lost with time.

"You're my Dad?"

John frowned and looked Axel over from head to toe. Axel was dressed in simple attire, but the branding was unmistakable. Despite his casual appearance, the quality of the fabric clearly marked it as designer clothing.

The car he was driving also looked brand new. On top of that, Axel was wearing an expensive-looking watch, a gift from a luxury sponsor. The watch was probably the most expensive thing on his body, and it gleamed subtly under the sunlight.

This didn't go unnoticed by Johnny. Even at a young age, he had developed a sharp sense of observation. Growing up poor had trained him to notice every detail that mattered.

"So you're saying you're my Dad?"

"I am. I've been looking for you and your mom for years. Have you been doing okay? How about we go to the hospital and get your bruises checked?" Axel asked with concern, trying to keep his voice steady even as emotion welled inside him.

"Fuck you! Fuck off! Don't come near me again!"

The kid's voice exploded with fury. He glared at Axel with a look that could kill. There was fire in his eyes, a deep, burning hatred that shook Axel to his core.

"John, what are you talking about? I'm here to see you. I wanted to tell you—"

"Shut the fuck up! Mom and I are suffering because of you. I hope you die! I don't want anything from you, you piece of shit! What, you think just because you're rich now, you can show up and pretend like nothing happened? Mom might be a bitch, but at least she never abandoned me!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Mom told me everything. She said you were a worthless piece of shit who left us. She said you never paid child support. She said you never even tried to contact us... Wait a second, aren't you that actor from The Accidental Wedding Crashers? Hah! Look at that! You bastard, you're living a happy life while my mom and I are out here trying to survive! Fuck you!"

John's face was red with emotion, his voice cracking, spit flying as he screamed.

Axel stood frozen, as if paralyzed.

"John, I think there's been a misunderstanding. I didn't do any of that. That's not true."

Axel took a cautious step forward, but John immediately backed away, his face twisted in disgust, as though Axel's very presence repulsed him.

"Don't ever show up again!"

The boy turned and stormed off, leaving Axel standing there, completely still. He stared at John's retreating figure until he was gone from view. The boy didn't look back, not even once. And that broke something deep inside Axel.

He didn't know what to say. He had come here just to meet his son, just to talk. But what he found in those eyes wasn't confusion or curiosity, it was hatred. A kind of hatred that words couldn't undo. He felt that if he tried to defend himself, he would only make things worse.

He stood there, rooted to the ground. He had dreamed of this moment of seeing his son again, but he had never imagined it would turn out like this.

.........
......
...

The disco lights pulsed and shifted in bright patterns as people danced without a care. The atmosphere was wild, full of energy and flashing color.

Wyatt was on the dance floor, beer in hand, moving to the music with a woman who had taken a special interest in him. The two were dancing close and the air between them buzzed with flirtation. Just to be sure this time, Wyatt glanced at her neck and confirmed that there was no Adam's apple.

The woman danced seductively, grinding and twerking, pressing her body against his. It was forward, it was suggestive, and Wyatt welcomed the attention.

When he ordered an expensive drink, the woman quickly struck up a conversation. Wyatt might have been chubby, but money made him attractive. She was hoping to score a free drink, and Wyatt gladly obliged.

From that point on, she decided to play along. She leaned closer, her voice thick with charm, it didn't matter if she was faking it. She found out that Wyatt was actually a director, the man behind The Accidental Wedding Crashers and Week On A Cruise Ship.

Both were hit comedy films in recent years, box office successes that brought a lot of laughter. The woman was stunned. Her interest in Wyatt skyrocketed.

This was Los Angeles, where every beautiful face was chasing fame. In a city where dreams and delusions blurred, everyone was just one luck away from stardom, or so they believed.

She was one of those people. So far, she had failed. Life had slammed her down more times than she could count, but she refused to give up.

She had auditioned for countless roles, even in low-budget films, but always got the same response: "We'll let you know." And that call never came.

She even snuck into high-end parties, hoping to bump into a celebrity, a director, or anyone who might discover her. Once, she met an old man with money, but that only led to a one-night stand. Another dead end.

So now, with Wyatt in front of her, she decided not to waste the opportunity.

"So hey, how about we leave this place and have our own fun. What do you think?"

She raised her voice over the pounding bass, leaning closer so he could hear her.

"What did you say?"

"I said, how about we go somewhere else? I took a liking to you," she whispered into his ear, rubbing his chest gently. She realized he might actually have a bigger chest than she did. Still, she forced herself to play along.

"Whoa, girl. You're moving fast. You really like me that much?"

"Of course."

They kept dancing, their bodies moving to the rhythm.

"We don't even know each other yet. I already told you my name. Why don't you tell me yours?"

"I see what you're doing here, lover boy."

She smiled, grinding against him even though it made her skin crawl. Every instinct screamed for her to step back, but her ambition told her to keep going.

"I'm Cheval. I'm an actress. I live here in L.A., you know... just trying to get lucky." She winked, hinting that she'd do more than acting if it meant landing a role in one of Wyatt's films.

But instead of looking pleased, Wyatt's face slowly stiffened. His smile faded. He stared at Cheval for a long moment before sighing and shaking his head.

"I guess I'm really unlucky. Every time I try to flirt with someone, it always ends badly... Maybe I should stop looking for flings. Maybe I should look for something real. A healthy, long-term relationship. Yeah, maybe that's a better choice. I just want someone to love me."

He spoke softly, mostly to himself. His words were drowned out by the music, but they carried a heavy sincere loneliness.

The first time, it was an actress who used him to get into Week On A Cruise Ship, then dumped him right after landing the role.

The second time, it was a ladyboy in Thailand... Just remembering that sent a chill down his spine.

And now this.

Wyatt realized he wasn't built for this kind of scene. Maybe he was chasing the wrong kind of love in the wrong kind of places.
 
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