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Dreams of Stardom (Hollywood SI)

Troy Armitage knows that he was someone else before his birth in 1989. Yet, that didn't help him much when he was dealt a bad hand in life. A chance encounter led him to path that would make him the biggest superstar in the world. A showbiz story starting in 1997 and (hopefully) going all the way forward to 2020s if the readers keep supporting. Patreon Link: patreon.com/fableweaver PS: I have crossposted it on RoyalRoad, AO3, and Scribblehub. If you find it anywhere else, it's not me.

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Ch-36

"For the first scene," Stephen Daldry began his explanation, "we'll start with your dance sequence on the street, which you'll take to the roof. As you dance, Jamie Bell will watch you from there," he pointed to a spot where Bell was standing, "and Jamie Draven will watch you from there," Draven, who played Billy's brother, waved from the window to which I reciprocated. "Peter says you know the whole thing very well by now."

"Oh yes, Mr. Darling and I have practiced it a lot," I commented, causing Stephen to chuckle and Peter to roll his eyes. Too many bloody times, in my opinion, for a simple tap dance. "Say, Stephen, can we make the whole scene one shot? I know you must have your vision of the scene, so it's okay if it's not possible."

Stephen turned to Peter for confirmation. "Yeah, the midget can do it. The problem would be for the camera because of the narrow passage to the roof."

Stephen mused on the problem for a bit before motioning to Brian, the cinematographer. "Brian, can we use a Steadicam to film the whole dance sequence from the toilet to the backyard to the stairs to the roof and finally the jump in the street in one take?"

"Like the restaurant scene from Goodfellas?" I blurted out, and instantly everyone turned to me.

"Yes! Exactly like that!" Stephen gushed excitedly. "I want as much of the dance sequence as we can in one shot to give it a seamless feel."

Brian mulled over the problem for a few moments before answering. "Sure, give me 10 minutes. I'll set the camera. As for the Steadicam, it's possible, but I can't say for sure until we've shot it."

Stephen nodded. "No problem. Let's try. Now, Troy, why don't you show me your performance before we begin filming?"

"Okay. From the toilet, I guess?" I asked.

Stephen shook his head. "No, before that. From the backyard where you try to climb the wall."

"Alright."

I went down to the appointed spot with Peter and Stephen following me.

"Remember your emotions for the scene," Stephen commented. "You must express the anguish of being unable to audition for the Royal Ballet School and that your teacher is arguing with your brother. As you end the scene, kick that tin sheet a few times in frustration."

I closed my eyes for a few moments and brought forth some negative emotions. The unfairness of the world, poverty, terrorism—whatever I could think of that would make anyone scowl. I nurtured those emotions into something fierce and channeled it out from my feet.

I jumped up the wall and did a complete backflip before landing on my feet and doing some tap dancing. After some time of continued dancing, I opened the door to the loo and sat down while continuing to tap dance with my feet. Soon, I got up, motioned to kick the door down (as it was already open), and began to dance back in the backyard all the way to the roof through the stairs where Jamie Bell was sitting, looking bored. As soon as I came into view, he was instantly in character and began tapping his foot in beat to my dance while sipping water from a bottle.

Jamie Draven also came out and looked at my dance curiously, in character, as did a few more side characters, but I kept the frustrating scowl etched on my face as I jumped down from the roof onto the street. It wasn't very high, so I made the jump easily and ran down the street, beginning to tap dance on the way, until I finally hit a tin sheet blocking off my way forward. I kicked it in frustration and shouted to the heavens before falling to my knees.

"Cut!" Stephen called out, clapping his hands together, although we weren't even shooting at the moment. "That was fantastic, Troy! You captured the base emotion perfectly. We'll need to adjust a few camera angles. In the meantime, I need you to dial it up a notch. You are on the right track, just a little more."

I stood up, panting from the exertion, and nodded. "Okay, Stephen. I'll do it even better next time."

Stephen smiled. "Of course you will. I trust you completely. We'll make the best dance movie of the year. Probably the whole decade! Now, everyone, get ready for the first take!" As the crew members started going about their positions, Stephen turned to Brian, the cinematographer, "Do you understand what I want now?"

Brian nodded with a troubled expression on his face. "Everything else is doable except the bathroom door part. He can't kick it out, or we won't be able to get the cameras in and out without blocking his way."

"No, that's not negotiable," Stephen vetoed. "He has to kick out the door. It's symbolic for him to break out of the shackles that his family has unknowingly placed on him."

As the duo brainstormed ideas for the scene, I took a moment to catch my breath. The energy on set was electric, and Stephen's words earlier had lit a fire under me. There was also an invisible weight on my shoulders to carry the film. A weight that I hadn't felt in The Sixth Sense because of Bruce Willis' presence. He was the hero in that film, not me. Here, I'm all alone leading this film, and I can't make a single mistake. At the same time, I also knew that I couldn't let this get to my head, or my performance would suffer. I clapped my cheeks lightly to pump myself up.

This was going to be an incredible movie, and I was ready to give it everything I had.

Brian and Stephen's brainstorming session lasted for a few minutes before they came up with a genius idea to shoot the scene in one take.

As soon as I entered the loo, the camera would follow me in and then be passed on to a different cameraman who was sitting on top of the loo's wall (since it didn't have a roof). He would shoot the inside scenes and the kicking out of the door. As soon as that happened, the camera would be passed back to Brian, who would then follow me around to the roof.

After my jump, the camera would be passed back to the other cameraman who would then follow me around on a scooter as I ran and danced around the streets.

It had to be choreographed very well; everything must be perfect. Even a slight mistake would cause the whole scene to be shot again from the beginning.

"Camera!" Stephen shouted.

"Rolling," came the reply.

"And… action!"

As soon as I heard that, I was back in a mood of perpetual frustration. This time, however, a camera was on me the whole time as we redid the full sequence I had done just moments ago. But this time, I wasn't just acting. No, I was Billy Elliot, a boy whose dreams were being suppressed by his family's needs and unfair demands. I felt just like I did a few years ago when my bio-mom refused to let me skip a few grades or anything for that matter. That feeling made me increase the intensity with which I was dancing as I poured my very being out in the role.

I felt as if this would be the best scene of my career when…

"Cut!" Stephen's voice made me stop my next dance move abruptly.

He angrily marched up to the set and shouted, "Who the fuck placed their mobile phone there? It's 1984 for fuck's sake!"

I looked back at the place he was pointing at and sure enough, there was a mobile phone that someone had placed on charging in a wall socket. Stephen wanted perfection like that. I felt anger course through my veins because I was in such a good place for my performance and now it was all down the drain.

A lady in her mid to late 30s, who I later found was the set designer, came forth and took the phone and the charger. "I'm sorry, Stephen. I'll find out whose it is. It won't happen again."

She went away, and then the first AD came to Stephen with a jar in his hand. Stephen fished through his pocket before throwing a £5 bill into the jar. "That's for the next four times in advance."

I couldn't help but laugh at the swear jar they had started to maintain on the set since people liked to curse and with young children (me) present on set, they tried to maintain an order of sorts.

We began the scene after that debacle from the beginning.

"Cut! Troy, you look too sad, but not frustrated enough. Let's do it again!"

"Cut! Troy, you fumbled that step over there! One more time!"

"Cut! Jamie, don't glare, keep a curious look on your face!"

"Cut! That was good! But maybe we can shoot one more time?"

For some reason, I just couldn't bring forth the same emotion that I had delivered in the very first take. I had half a mind to go to the owner of the phone and charger and give them a piece of my mind, but I also knew that if I did, I'd come off as an entitled asshole.

In the end, I asked Stephen for a five-minute break, which he thankfully granted. I used that time to calm myself down a little and think back to what worked in the first scene. It took me some time, but eventually, I was able to find that same state of mind.

"I'm ready," I announced to Stephen as I took my starting position.

"Quiet on set! And action!"

As soon as I heard the magic word, I was lost in the scene. All the frustration, anguish, and helplessness of the situation came to the surface, which I poured out in the form of my angry dance. It felt like doing a Tandava of sorts, which is an angry dance that was done by the Hindu god Shiva. Yet, none of my anger was for the world and the corrupt. No, it was all centered towards my mother, the woman who I didn't even want to see after so many years.

"Aaaaarrggghhh!" I shouted in anger as I rained down angry punches on the tin sheet and slumped down in defeat when nothing happened to it.

"Cut!" I faintly remembered Stephen calling that out, but I was so spent that all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball in my bed and not get up for the next year or two.

"That's a great scene, Troy," Stephen commented as he walked over to me. "More than great. It was phenomenal. Absolute perfection."

I didn't have the energy or the mood to say anything to him, so I just grunted.

"Want to check it out with me?" Stephen offered. Usually, directors don't allow actors to see their own scenes, but probably because of my input in the scene, he was letting me see it.

"Nah, I trust your vision, mate," I whispered, very tired after that scene. "Do we have anything else for the day?"

"No," Stephen shook his head. "I think that's enough for you today. We will shoot some more scenes with other actors, but you can go back now."

I heaved a sigh of relief. It was a very tiring process doing a four-minute-long dance sequence again and again, a dozen times. And while adults consider kids to be perpetually high on sugar, I wasn't hyperactive enough to warrant that categorization.

I made my way back to my trailer when, on the way, I came across Jamie Bell, who was also going the same way.

"Hey, Jamie!" I called out to the boy who turned towards me apprehensively. "I'm sorry about earlier, dude. I didn't know what side of the trailer was mine so…" I didn't finish the sentence when I saw the angry look on his face.

"Dude? Let alone the North, you're a right Yankee twat, you fucker!" he shouted before running back to his trailer.

Ouch. Looks like someone shat in his pie or something. I felt Mum grasping my shoulder lightly from behind me. I hadn't even realized that Mum had come along with me.

A woman who had been standing behind Jamie all this time was looking aghast at the situation before rushing towards me. "I'm so sorry for my son's behavior. He's usually such a sweet boy, but ever since he lost the role of Billy, he has been a little sad."

She sighed and looked into Mum's eyes. "I'll make sure he behaves properly next time."

"Please do," Mum said, her tone clipped as she tightened her hold on my shoulder in silent support.

We walked back to the trailer in silence. As we neared our temporary home, I broke the quiet. "Please do? I didn't know you were capable of such passive aggression."

"Sometimes," she began, "you have to 'flex' in front of others to show them their place. What that boy did was intolerable in any situation. If word gets back to the producers about what he did, he'd most likely be replaced. His mother knew it. That's why she was so amenable and hasty to get back to that… boy."

She said the last word so distastefully, it sent shivers down my spine. Yeah, don't get on her bad side. Ever.

"The only reason I won't have him removed is that I know how difficult that dance sequence was for you. I don't want you to go through that again," she reasoned.

"That's good enough, I guess," I murmured uncertainly. I didn't want to make enemies in the industry before my first film was even released. Besides, I knew Jamie was a good actor; it was just circumstances that led to me being cast.

Now that I think about it, I feel horrible about the whole debacle. I've already done two movies and am likely to get the role of Harry Potter. Billy Elliot was Jamie's big break, his chance for worldwide fame and roles in big-budget films, and I robbed him of that opportunity.

Others might think Jamie is being immature by accusing me of stealing his role, but I knew how accurate he was.

"Mum?" I asked hesitantly, receiving a hum in response. "Do you think if I hadn't auditioned, the role of Billy would have gone to Jamie?"

Mum mulled over the question for a few seconds before tilting her head towards me. "We can't know for sure, honey, but I'd say unlikely."

"Why?"

"I mean, it's possible, but unlikely," she clarified. "For one, he has no acting experience at all. Not even as an extra or in a commercial. They'd have to have extensive rehearsals with him to bring him up to par. And his behavior just now casts a big shadow on his capabilities as a professional actor."

"Don't you think you're being too judgmental?" I asked. "He's just a kid who got angry and lashed out. That's what most kids do. I'm the exception, remember?"

She rolled her eyes but didn't comment further.

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