I arrive at the rehearsal studio early, which is either a sign of professionalism or that I have no idea how long it takes to get anywhere in this city. FYI, it is the latter. I carry my trusty sketchbook under my arm. It's like my very own version of a safety blanket, except it has more doodles and fewer fluffy, comforting properties. I am also wearing another one of my animal-pun T-shirts that features a cute picture of a dinosaur that says, "I dino what I'm doing." That is, unfortunately, the truth.
When I finally enter the room, I immediately notice how big and bright it is. It smells like coffee and the faint anxiety of people who haven't memorized their lines yet. A few groups of fellow cast members are trying to look relaxed, but I think it looks more like they are panicking inside, trying to remember all the new names. I spot a couple of faces from the table read, but don't head over. Everyone here looks more awake and capable than I feel. Then, Nanon spots me and waves me over with an easy smile.
"Hey, Wei-Wei. You survived your first table read."
"Barely," I say, smiling back. "My brain still feels like it's trying to catch up. And you?"
"Same. This script is intense. I keep wondering how they're going to shoot some of these scenes." He nods toward the taped area. "You ready for today?"
"Not even a little," I admit. "But I'll fake it till I make it."
We talk for a minute about the series and about how weird it is to suddenly be here. We are actually getting paid to pretend to be who we are not for the entertainment of thousands of other people. Nanon is the kind of person who makes you feel like you're already in on the joke. He's easy to talk to, while I am kind of the opposite sometimes, but he doesn't seem to mind. It's sometimes scary to think that I have managed to make two new friends here, especially after what happened. I am still quite socially awkward at times, but I think I am learning how to open up again.
Prinya is also already here. He's standing by the window with his script, listening to the assistant director. He looks so focused on their discussion, I can't help but wonder what it would be like to have that kind of focus entirely on me. Nope, never mind. Even though I notice him, I force myself not to linger. Yip, I am very good at not lingering.
Then the director claps her hands once and calls everyone together.
"Alright, today we're working on scenes 3 and 7. I want intimacy without touching. The tension should feel like it's humming under your skin. I want it to feel natural and real. Let's see what you both bring."
She looks between Prinya and me.
I swallow and step forward. (This dumpling is definitely not nervous.)
****
We start with scene 3. Luckily, it's one that doesn't need a lot of closeness. It's basically just dialogue, positioning, and blocking.
Prinya is precise and economical in his direction. He seems to count his words as much as Jingwei. (I wonder who would win if they had a competition.) He says things like "Slower on that line. Let the silence do the work," or "Shift your weight left, it reads better from this angle." His directions are always concise and precise. It may even come across as cold.
Yet, I find myself actually liking it. There is no fuss or over-explaining. It's just clear instructions. This somehow makes me feel less nervous, and like I have enough space not to trip over my own feet. It is efficient in a weirdly likable way. It is almost comforting, which is not a word I usually associate with being told what to do.
We run the scenes a few times until the director and Prinya are happy with them.
Then we do a short scene with Nanon, who plays mt bandmate. In the scene, my character is talking to his bandmate about the music. I find that Nanon is quite easy to work with. He is a natural and quick on his feet. The three of us fall into a good rhythm. Eventually, the director nods, pleased. "That felt realistic. Keep that energy."
Finally, we move into the key scene. Scene 7. In this scene, Prinya and I need to keep sustained eye contact and closeness without actually touching each other. The director wants the tension to feel alive between us, so we stand really close to each other (closer than necessary for blocking, I might add). Then the cameras are rolling. And I am left wondering: Gosh, why are the lights so hot?