Fascinating was Billy's idea, a deal he'd been working on for fifteen days, determined to face everything that frightened him. Billy wore shorts that looked like leather but were made of fine fabric, reaching almost to his knees. Everyone around him seemed fully prepared for anything. He was quick, always looking for the least risky way forward.
–This seems pretty interesting –murmured Billy, striking a few poses while Zack Snyder directed firmly, his hands moving up and down—precise and deliberate, giving the camera that arrogant edge it needed.
–Keep your mouth shut when you make those moves, and frown a little. We'll save the smile for special moments. Dance with the sword, like an action hero –said Zack, noticing the young man's athletic build and the way he radiated a performer's energy. He moved with intensity, giving his all whether the motion was small or grand—proof that people can always do more or less, but Billy always gave more.
Billy performed every move he'd learned from his old friend Andy Serkis, a master of physical acting. With a wooden sword spray-painted metallic silver, he executed his steps, the foam shields standing in for the aluminum ones they'd use later—no more than two hundred of them, since the whole concept was to recreate the battle of three hundred warriors possessed with fury at Thermopylae.
Zack watched his elegant physique, that rebellious spirit flashing through every movement. He was, frankly, a perfect body type for commercials—especially those that needed beauty or restrained strength captured in a few frames.
–All right, Billy, that'll do –said Zack, almost hearing the music in his mind: pounding drums and a wild indie-game-style action intro, while the images burst on screen with impact.
–Sure –Billy exhaled, taking note that filming was in Toronto, saving money with a studio only ten miles away. Luckily, it was spring—just a little rain, no towering snow to deal with.
…
Billy finished what had so inspired him lately—a long reach, that much was true—and got home after a half-hour drive, though walking would've taken less than fifteen minutes if not for the merciless New York traffic that made him almost want to vomit.
–Lunch is ready –said Mrs. Holis, now in charge of such tasks in the city since Mrs. Greenwood had stayed in the U.K. to tend to Billy's country house.
–Thank you, dear Holis –said Billy. He had come to understand that housekeepers were the real authority in America. Holis wasn't an expert cleaner—she hired a team for the smaller chores—but she was a master of domestic life. Her meat dishes were exquisite, her sense of order unmatched.
–Yes, sir… Miss Scarlett is upstairs waiting. She arrived an hour ago, while you were in your meeting –she added softly. She was a calm woman, never intrusive, her manner quiet and almost submissive in the old-fashioned way.
–Well, I'll eat something; I'm starving –Billy replied, taking his seat. The roast beef was perfectly cooked, served with a pepper glaze and a full salad bowl that added a fresh burst of color to the meal.
The tender meat melted in his mouth as new musical ideas came to him—something that could bring the same satisfaction, that sense of comfort only music could give, the kind that lingered even after the sound faded. Satisfaction and urgency—that was always the core.
–There's more in the oven –called Holis from the kitchen. The air was rich with the smell of tangy barbecue sauce that tingled his nose and tempted his tongue with every bite.
From upstairs, about thirty feet away, Scarlett came down barefoot, her hair tousled. She wore one of Billy's oversized shirts and shorts that nearly reached her knees, stretching as she let out a long yawn.
–I've got jet lag. Just finished the last bit not long ago –said Scarlett, her messy hair a remnant from the intense filming of Match Point, which had ended more dramatically than she'd expected.
–Well, you need to eat something –said Billy, signaling to Holis to serve her a plate. But the girl went straight back upstairs without replying.
–I'll steal from your plate –laughed the blonde, cutting a piece of his meat. He fed her a small bite; it was almost like a quiet dance between them. Billy tasted the sweetness of the glaze, the delicate meat, the crisp salad—it made him want to eat until his stomach ached.
Holis brought a bit of quinoa—its earthy flavor paired perfectly with the juicy meat. Billy fed Scarlett again, and she smiled with that soft expression of affection they shared so naturally.
–It's delicious –said Scarlett, savoring the last bite.
–I had an action scene today—it's from one of those movies no one's ever seen before –said Billy. –It's about the Greco-Persian Wars. Michael had me read up on the history of that era, and the script is simply brilliant. It's a shame I don't look twenty-five anymore; I can't quite pass for a battle-hardened soldier –he added with a laugh, knowing exactly what the role required. If only he were older, he'd pull off those intense scenes as one of those Spartan warriors who fought at the front lines, men whose roles were never mediocre.
–Let me see it –said the blonde.
–It's upstairs—you slept on it, I think –Billy laughed, brushing a hand across his face and caressing her cheek. She blushed in color and chaos.
–I was completely asleep –she excused herself.
–The lines aren't what people want from this movie—it's all about the strength of your expressions. I think I need to practice how to shout like a man, you know, the tough-guy type –Billy said with a grin.
....