“Become the Part”
by Jeff Ronan
“And was this before or after your interview with the agency?”
Risa’s pen was poised above her notepad, her chunky black frames perched on the end of her nose. She had cut her auburn hair into a chic bob since the last time she had interviewed Jerome. He thought it suited her.
“Or don’t you recall?”
Jerome leaned back in the hotel’s leather recliner and fiddled with his watch. He had always liked Risa, ever since she showed up to their first interview having read three separate biographies on Dussolier, the abstract expressionist he played in what Variety had called “the film debut of the century”. Her exhaustive research usually made her Jerome’s favorite interviewer on the press circuit. Usually.
“I’m just not sure what this has to do with Beethoven,” he finally said, flashing his trademark grin. “You know, I stayed in Teplice for a month, where Ludwig penned the unsent letter to Immortal Beloved.”
She ignored the subject change. “It’s not every actor who walks away from a job with the CIA. What made you pursue a job in intelligence?”
Jerome ran a hand through his long black curls and shrugged in a way that he hoped read as casual. “The remnants of youthful idolatry for secret agents, I suppose. Are you saying it was a mistake to pursue acting instead?” he asked with a smirk.
“I just wonder if anyone was disappointed by your abrupt career switch.”
“Like who, my parents? You should see how disappointed they look sitting in the house I bought for them.” He reached for his glass of seltzer and took a sip. “And I don’t think taking a single preliminary exam on a lark constitutes a career.”
“A single exam with some of the best marks the agency had ever seen.”
Jerome fought to keep his expression neutral. How could she have known that? He could feel the underarms of his shirt dampening with sweat and was thankful that he’d opted to wear a suit jacket for the interview.
He cleared his throat. “I’m not sure who your sources are, but I think you need some new ones. Now if you want to talk Symphony of Silence, I’m all yours. Hell, you want to ask about my favorite pastry, I can wax poetic on butterhorns for your readers. But…” He paused as a sudden thought flashed across his mind. “Is this about Cannes?”
Risa’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “Cannes?”
Jerome softened. Spurned lovers he could handle. “I had a lovely time, darling, but I thought we both agreed it would be a one-time thing.” He leaned forward and gently rested a hand on her knee. “Unless, that is, you were hoping it would be something more?”
“Ah, I see.” A tight smile spread across her face, and he felt himself flinch. “You’ve really been enjoying your time here, haven’t you?”
He pulled his hand back and took another sip of seltzer. Somewhere in the hallway a couple was arguing, a female voice loudly calling someone a liar. Jerome felt a bead of sweat trickle at his temple and cleared his throat. “I do have a two o’clock, so I’m going to have to wrap things up here soon.”
Risa leaned forward. “Doesn’t some part of you in there, deep inside, wish you’d chosen a different path? Made an actual difference?” She had a stranglehold on her pen, and Jerome finally noticed that she hadn’t written anything in her notepad. “But instead, you had to be an actor.”
He had a sudden vision of Risa lunging forward and bringing the pen swiftly down into his neck. The image felt so startlingly real that he practically leapt to his feet, his hands shakily attempting to button the front of his suit jacket. “Okay, I think we’re done here.”
He started for the door, but as he gripped the handle, Risa called out a name – his real name, stopping him in his tracks. How long had it been since someone had called him that? He pulled at his shirt collar only to find it moistened with sweat. He felt ill.
“Why don’t you go freshen up?”
Jerome nodded, his head swimming. He staggered into the hotel’s bathroom and swiped at the light switch, hitting it on the second try. After splashing his face with water, he looked up at his dripping reflection. He was so used to seeing this face: in magazines, on television, splayed across screens one hundred-feet wide, but for the first time in years, he didn’t recognize the man staring back.
The door clicked open, and he sighed. “I’d ask how you found me, but I suppose I haven’t made much of an attempt at hiding.”
“Quite the opposite. Your mission was to gather intel. Care to explain?”
Jerome turned to see Risa digging her fingers into her neck. With a single, slow pull, she stripped her face off, revealing Daskis, his old boss. Her glittering, deep-set eyes bored a hole into him, her slitted nose flared in annoyance.
“Is Risa ok?”
“She’s under the impression your interview was pushed to tomorrow. Now. Explain yourself.”
Jerome looked down at the sink counter. “You spend your whole career training to embody others, to not just replicate voices and mannerisms, but to recreate actual lives…to be able to become literally anyone…only to be trapped in a single part.” He gestured to himself. “Stuck playing the same role year after year.”
“That was the mission.”
“Yes. The mission.” Jerome looked back at his reflection and smoothed the front of his jacket. “You know, until getting here, I never knew these skills could be used for something other than intelligence gathering. Subterfuge. Deceit. And now, to have these beings celebrate what I do, to be treated as an actual artist. Can you blame me for wanting a little recognition for my talents?”
“Recognition,” Daskis echoed with a sneer. “You shifters and your egos.”
Jerome shook his head. “You never did respect the craft.” He grabbed a hand towel and dried his face. “I suppose you’ve been ordered to bring me in?”
“Not necessarily,” Daskis said with a smile. “You’ve gained quite a fanbase during your brief film career. And it’s not unheard of on this planet for you actors to suddenly find yourselves with…how shall I put it? A higher calling.”
Jerome stared back at her until the penny finally dropped. “All right then,” he sighed. “But my agent is going to kill me.”
AWARD-WINNING ACTOR SETS SIGHTS ON THE SENATE
By Risa Balmer
After winning an Oscar earlier this month for his acclaimed portrayal of Beethoven in Symphony of Silence, Jerome Hayden has shocked Hollywood by announcing an early retirement from acting. In an exclusive interview, we talked about what led to his surprising decision to run for Senator…
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Jeff Ronan is a New York-based writer and actor. His fiction has appeared in Neon Door, Bards and Sages Quarterly, Dread Machine, Sci Phi Journal, and City.River.Tree. For more, visit Jeffronan.com
