I felt deeply ashamed of myself that two kids had to tell me that I needed to improve my behavior. I hadn't even realized that I was being so snappy recently, or that everyone was treating me like a glass cannon. When they said that she would take all my anger for everyone else, I couldn't help but feel devastated and overcome with grief. That, when mixed with everything going on in my life, I couldn't control my emotions.
I felt blessed to have friends like Emma and Jamie who didn't say anything to anyone about what happened in my trailer that day. In fact, from then on, they would visit my trailer daily and ask me to just vent everything out before the shoot could begin. They asked me to stop listening to what they were saying on the news, but I couldn't bring myself to do that. I had to know what they were saying so I could prepare myself for the worst out there.
Their presence was more than enough for me to focus on shooting the film.
"Why are we brewing this potion in broad daylight, in the middle of a girl's lavatory?" Jamie said while leaning against the side of a toilet cubicle. "Don't you think we'll get caught?"
"No," Emma remarked with a smile while adding some ingredients to a smoking cauldron. "No one ever comes here."
"Why?" Jamie and I said at the same time before looking at each other and grinning.
"Moaning Myrtle," Emma replied.
"Who?" Jamie asked this time.
Emma looked behind Jamie while saying, "Moaning Myrtle." My eyes widened as I looked at the girl standing there.
"Who's Moaning Myrtle?" He asked, clueless.
"I'm Moaning Myrtle!" said girl yelled in Jamie's face before walking away. The actress playing Myrtle had been called on set only to get our genuine reactions out. "I wouldn't expect you to mourn me. Who would ever talk about ugly, miserable, moping, moaning Myrtle?" She started yelling as she ran away from us.
"She's a little sensitive," Emma noted idly.
"A little?" I asked incredulously.
"Cut!" Chris' voice rang out across the set. "Excellent job, kids. Let's do it one more time without Myrtle, so we can combine the two shots."
We nodded and got ready to redo the scene. Myrtle was supposed to be a ghost, so her final appearance would come out to be ethereal and transparent. To achieve this effect, they shoot the scene twice, once with the actress present, and once without. For close-ups, they would use the version with her presence, and for the wide-angle shots the other one.
(Break)
"Steve and Kathy Kloves refuse to say anything to the media, and the people are enraged. Their beloved star Troy has been exploited by persons who were supposed to care for him."
"This is ridiculous," Emma noted angrily as a different news anchor tore into my parents for their 'faulty upbringing.' "Why can't they wait for the trial like they are supposed to?! They are reporters, not judges."
For a bizarre reason, I felt happy that someone else was mad on my behalf.
"Leave it be, Emma," I grabbed her soft hand gently. "They are vultures. We can't do anything about them."
"But they shouldn't be saying all these lies about your family! I know the truth," she said haughtily.
"And that's all that matters to me," I smiled at her. "That people who I care about know the truth."
Jamie, who was sitting opposite me, said, "I still don't know why you can't release a statement or give an interview. Your parents may be on trial, but you aren't. You can say anything you want, can't you?"
I opened my mouth to refute that but stopped midway. What he was saying wasn't wrong exactly. I knew from day one of this 'scandal' that I needed to get my side of the story out in the media to control the narrative, but my lawyer's request had stopped me from doing it. Every day, public opinion is getting worse, and the PR team we had employed is doing jack shit to improve my image. It's high time I spoke to someone about it and cleared all this confusion.
A big problem was that my father had been avoiding me for the last few days, thus making it difficult for me to talk to him about it. That left me with only one option. When Emma and Jamie had left my trailer, I picked up my phone and dialed Mum.
"Troy?" she asked in a worried tone. "Is everything alright? Aren't you still shooting? Is it the reporters again? Do I need to hire more bodyguards?"
"Calm down, Mum," I said soothingly. "I think five bodyguards are more than enough for the moment for physical control of media. What I need is to control the narrative. It's high time."
"What do you mean by that exactly?" she spoke hesitantly, and I could sense her frown through the phone.
"Exactly that, Mum. I won't stay silent any longer. I need to present our side of the story."
She remained silent for a few moments before saying, "Your Dad won't like it."
I was surprised by her answer. So I asked, "But you won't mind. You agree that I need to give my version of the truth, right?"
"Love," Mum said in that sweet voice of hers. "Everyone knows that you need to speak out. That's the only way for us to get out of this mess."
"Everyone except our lawyer you mean," I grumbled.
"And your Dad," Mum added. "Steve doesn't want to be accused of influencing you until the trial has concluded. That's why he's been distancing himself from you."
My anger was building up once again, and I felt like punching someone, but I controlled myself and took a deep breath. I asked the question I meant to all along, "Can you set up an interview for me?"
Mum snorted, "Anyone will leap at the chance to interview you. Who do you want to do it with? Jonathan Ross? Or maybe–"
"I know who I want to interview with. It's…"
Hearing the name, Mum didn't speak for a few moments before asking, "Are you sure? I don't think it's a wise choice."
"No, it is the only choice. Who better to interview with but our greatest critic?"
"We'll have to prep you for the interview," she said worriedly. "I'll get your PR team to prepare answers for you."
"No," I shot down the idea. "Set me up in a meeting with Keith. I just need to know what not to say and a few more things that I'll discuss with him privately. Leave everything else to me. The PR team has done enough these last few days."
"Troy–" Mum began saying, but I cut her off.
"No, Mum. I need to do this, and I know I'll do it better than what any script can do for me. Trust me as you always have."
She didn't speak for a few moments before finally saying, "Okay. I trust you."
(Break)
Steve didn't know why Kathy insisted on sitting him down for the morning news. It was always so boring and bland, especially given what had been going on recently. If he saw one more news piece talking shit about him, he would smash their new TV as well. Troy had some bright ideas. Seeing that hate-spewing box all broken up was satisfying.
He sighed at the reminder of Troy. The boy had decided to have a sleepover at Jamie's place for the night, and Steve was all too happy to send him away. Maybe some time with his friend would do him some good.
"Is it a special telecast of some kind?" Steve asked his wife.
"You'll see," Kathy said mysteriously as the 'Morning Show with Richard and Anita' began.
"Today, we are live from KN Studios, here in London. We have a guest celebrity here with us today. You might know him as the boy who can see dead people, or the dancing Billy Elliot, or most probably as Harry Potter," the male news anchor said over the TV.
Steve turned to Kathy sharply, "You lied to me?"
"No," Kathy shook her head. "He was at Jamie's for the night. I just forgot to tell you that Roger picked him up this morning to take him for this interview. Now sit and watch. You can't do anything at the moment."
Steve wanted to say a lot of things, but the show was going on, so he decided to do as his wife had suggested and see what the result would be. Even if it turned out to be ugly, he couldn't do anything to stop it, only damage control afterward if it came to that.
"Recently," the female anchor was saying, "Troy Armitage has been in the news for his less-than-desirable home life, and today, Troy would like to clear all such news. Troy, it's a pleasure having you here on the show."
Troy smiled charmingly at the woman before saying, "Anita, I wish I could share the sentiment, but your channel, and specifically you, have given me and my family nothing but grief over the past few days."
Anita was shocked to silence for a few moments before saying, "I'm sorry?"
"You should be," Troy said calmly. "But I'm not accepting that lame-arse apology. You have to mean it."
"Well, I…" Anita was clearly at a loss for words.
Steve turned to his wife, "Was it your idea?"
She shook her head, "Troy's. He asked for that interview, even set the questions that they were meant to ask him, but he planned to embarrass her from the beginning. He insisted on telecasting it live. He said it's either that or not at all. They leapt at the offer."
Richard, the other anchor, took over for Anita and tried to salvage the situation by changing the topic, "So Troy, you didn't attend the BAFTA ceremony yesterday where Russell Crowe won the award you were nominated for. You also missed quite a bit of backstage drama at the BAFTAs. May I ask the reason for it?"
"You may," Troy said cheekily before elaborating. "It was because of you. People like you, Ms. Anita, and so many of these so-called reporters have made it nearly impossible for me to do anything. I cannot step out of my house without a hundred cameras and microphones being thrust in my face asking how exploited I am. That's the term you used to describe my home life, didn't you? Let me answer that question right here, right now. Over the last week, I have been more exploited, tormented, and violated by the media, especially reporters like you, Ms. Anita, than my parents could ever do in a hundred lifetimes."
Troy's face was perfectly calm while saying all this. Not for a moment did he raise his voice. He didn't have to. His command over his temper was perfectly in place for the interview.
"You are very young," Anita shot back. "You won't understand our adult point of view."
"Typical lawyer behavior," Troy smiled. "Whenever on the losing side of an argument, make your opponent sound incompetent. Are you sure you weren't a lawyer before you were a writer, Ms. Anita? Or perhaps you will have a stronger point of argument as to why you claimed that my parents exploited me?"
Anita leaned forward with anger visible in her eyes, "Two words. [Sex Education]."
Troy scoffed, "You are stuck on that one film as if it is porn. Grow the fuck up."
Steve couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him hearing that profanity from his son.
"To answer your unasked question, my father got the idea of the story from my egg donor."
"Egg donor?" Richard asked in confusion.
"I refuse to call Carla Armitage my mother. She's not. She has hated me her entire life. Last I remember her, she couldn't do anything but drink herself to unconsciousness or have different blokes over at our apartment for things that I don't think should be mentioned on live TV. And she didn't hide it at all from me. That's where I got detailed 'sex education' before I was meant to. And because of my knowledge of the subject, Dad got the idea to turn it into something positive. We made the movie to teach young adults about safe sex. I'll say it again, it's not porn. I'm not naked in it. No one else is naked in my presence. We shot it with government representatives of California overseeing every scene which was even slightly risqué. I talked with a therapist before and after the shoot of the film. To top it all off, I still haven't watched the film yet. All of this could have been easily verified had you taken a moment of your time to verify whether proper measures had been taken by HBO or not. Even then, I just don't understand, why are you all making such a big deal out of it. Do you like to create stories out of nothing?"
"But Carla Armitage said–"
"I don't care what she said," Troy cut off Anita. "She's a lying… Well, I don't want to call her a bitch and be sued for defamation, so let's settle with a lying piece of furniture."
"Furniture?" Richard asked with amusement.
"Do you care about this chair's opinion?" Troy asked. When Richard shook his head, Troy continued, "I don't care about her opinion either. At least a chair is good enough to sit on."
"But she was suffering from depression," Anita decided to be the devil's advocate. "And she isn't wrong when she says that Steve and Kathy Kloves would earn hundreds of millions out of Harry Potter all because of you. Didn't you ask Steve to buy adaptation rights to the books?"
"Anita," Troy said abruptly. "I need a million pounds to invest in the stock market. Can you loan it to me? All profits and losses would be yours to bear. Quick, think fast."
"What?" She was surprised for a moment but quickly gained her senses. "No, I won't."
"Why?" Troy shot back.
"Because I don't have a million pounds to spare, and even if I did, it's my money. I don't trust you enough."
Troy smiled. "And you just proved my point. An uncountable number of people give investment advice to an equal number of people daily. My parents didn't have to follow my advice like they did. Most adults wouldn't. But they did it for one reason alone: because they loved me unconditionally. I said to my parents that I wanted to become an actor. Dad said that he would try his best to make me one. He bought rights to Harry Potter books, risking almost all his life savings for a film that could be a failure. He made a short film for me to teach me acting, using a subject that I was intimately familiar with, thanks to that 'furniture.' And then my parents took turns waiting hours outside different casting offices to get me roles in films like [The Sixth Sense] and [Billy Elliot]. They were earning much more in their writing jobs than what I would have as a child star under normal circumstances. They didn't have to do any of those things. They did all of that for me. To fulfill my dreams. They are the greatest parents I could have asked for."
Steve wiped off the excess moisture that had built up in his eyes. Now he felt deep regret over not talking to Troy for the last few days. Seeing his son defend him so vehemently made Steve happy yet sad that things had turned so ugly that Troy had to get his own hands dirty to salvage the situation.
"Do you still think he exploited me?" Troy asked Anita and Richard, although the latter was mostly a silent spectator most of the time.
Anita opened her mouth to say something, but Troy stood up suddenly. "It's clear you won't change your thinking when you have yet to treat me and my family with the respect we deserve, so here's what'll happen next. We'll be sending you and every news channel, reporter, and media house out there a defamation suit who said or wrote anything bad about me or my parents beyond direct quotes from the 'furniture.' You have a week to reconsider your words and apologize. If you don't, we'll meet in court. Just like Carla Armitage, who must have received our countersuit by now already. The ball is in your court now, Ms. Anita."
Saying that Troy removed his microphone from his shirt, threw it back on the seat he had occupied moments ago, and turned before a last thing came to his mind. He picked up the microphone again and said, "By the way, unlike you, I do have a million pounds to spare. Thanks to my parents."
With his final piece said Troy dropped the mic again before storming out of the frame of the camera, which cut to an abrupt commercial.
"Why do I have a feeling that this is all gonna get a lot worse now?" Steve asked his wife after turning off the TV.
Kathy sighed, her eyes still fixed on the now blank TV screen. "Because it probably will. But sometimes things have to get worse before they get better."
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