Check the Guest List, There’s Always a Party Crasher
Everything is looking good so far. Better than that New Year’s Eve, at least. Cleo feels like she’s just warming up to the New Year. It can’t be that bad, right? She still has an indie movie releasing this week. It might not be mainstream, but the story and concept are great.
Cleo got this lead because Owen had connections with some filmmakers—an indie production company called Out Of Club. They were young and new, but they had won international awards before. When they were ready to hold auditions, Cleo tried her luck. And they liked her, thinking the role would fit her because of the mystique that came with her so-called glacial face. She worked hard for it because she wanted to try indie films, thinking it might be the first step toward getting herself out there; on her own, with a production company that was also still starting. But then, she realized that maybe she needed to start somewhere else.
The indie film is called Doll. It’s a horror- thriller film about a psychiatrist who has befriended a family with mental disorders in the asylum where she works. It’s crazy and deep, which is what attracted Cleo to it.
So now Cleo’s in the movie distributor’s office, preparing invitations and doing last-minute posters. It’s not all bad. Owen’s picking her up for dinner later. Just as he always does—except he’s much busier now because he’s studying for his board exams. She feels sure he’ll ace them and can’t wait to celebrate with him.
“Hey, Cleo, should we invite your father?” one of the staff asks, holding out the invitation to her.
Cleo stops for a moment. She glances at the invitation before looking back at the young guy. “Well, of course, Patrick. Don’t you invite the biggest director in the country?”
They know Cleo’s story. Almost everyone knows her story. She’s the daughter who didn’t make the cut. She’s not as good as her father. But she’s used to that delicate question. She has to get used to it because they work in the same industry. Her father’s circles may be different from hers, but their mutual acquaintances know about their relationship—if there actually is a relationship between the two of them. Because Cleo’s afraid that there isn’t.
Cleo thinks it’s professional of her to invite her father, even if it some people think she’s crazy for doing it. But really, she’s asking him as a director. Her father is the most professional man in the world. He didn’t involve her in his projects, especially not when he was still at home. He was a man she never really got to know. The man’s a rock and as cold as an iceberg. He never once showed up during any of her ongoing teleseryes as extras, but she understood that. Why would he watch his daughter as an extra? That would ding his image, make him look soft, make him look like he has time to waste.
Overthinking this brings nothing but anxiety, so Cleo calls home. Anne picks up the second ring. “Hi, Anne.”
“Hey, Leo!” Anne’s the only one who calls Cleo. When they were young, they were told that their “auras” resemble a lion and a sheep—yes, Anne’s the sheep. Their mother used to tell them that Cleo was always doing something every day, perfecting things that she couldn’t do in the first place. She always tries, and when she tries, her cute little face becomes ferocious, which is adorable, according to Thea, who’s obviously biased.
“You’re free to talk right now?”
“Yes, sure. Still at school, but the kids are at recess. What’s up?”
“Remember the indie movie I talked about before?” Cleo brings up the topic. “The one I’m starring in?”
“What kind of question is that?” Anne exclaims. “How could I forget, Leo? What about it?”
“It’s premiering this Wednesday. I want you and Ma to come—if you’re not busy.”
“We’ll come! Of course, we’ll come! We’ll always be there, for anything you do!” It’s nice to hear Anne’s excitement. Cleo can also hear a little girl crying.
“Oops, gotta go, Leo! Kids are at it again. Talk to you later!” Anne hangs up the phone, and Cleo goes back to check the invitations. It’s a long day ahead, but it’ll be worth it in the end.
Standing in his Manila office, Everett Walter looks over the commanding view of Manila. Twenty-five years ago, these high-rise buildings didn’t exist. Looking out over the city from this height is as good as a trip to the park Makati. From where he watches, he can see a city in its own right, a city within a city, and thriving like crazy since it officially became urbanized in 1995. These days, hardly anyone gives a thought about what it was like before. They only know it as the city it is today.
Everett has kept pace with the city’s rapid development pretty well. He came here when he was an aspiring director because it seemed like the only viable option, and it didn’t fail him. It was a significant risk, and quite a learning curve. Looking down, he finds this city to be out of place in this country—the tallest skyscrapers built from the ground up, and the money it took to put them there. Yet, people pass through it like it’s always been this way—this glittery, this fast-paced.
These musings are a stolen moment for Everett. Time is of the essence, as he always tells himself. If he wastes even a minute, he loses an hour’s worth of productivity. But in his office, where no one else is around—no cameras, no reporters—he can finally loosen up.
Everett sits in his desk chair and closes his eyes. Finally, he’s where he wants to be. Not much to do except to keep his reputation and image as good as always, if not better. Everett couldn’t have achieved this success if it weren’t for that determination. He is his own role model. He doesn’t mean to sound arrogant, but his belief in his decisions and his confidence in himself have brought about the best possible outcomes in his work.
Now he’s wondering what he’ll be doing next. A new teleserye? That’s one good possibility. He’s already in the pre-production phase of his new movie in Alaska, and he hopes to enter it in the Colourette Film Festival in France. His life last year was one festival after another, so he’s making this the last one for now. That’ll give him some space to try different TV formats. In the past year, he seemed to evolve a new approach that could work for a few different genres. Now he wants to put it to the test. It might fail, but it might also be his legacy.
A knock on the door interrupts his thoughts.
“Come in,” Everett calls out.
Everett’s assistant, Nicole, appears at the door looking as stressed as usual. She’s got two phones in her hands, AirPods plugged in her ears as she talks to several people at once. People who need to get in touch with him. It’s always him—Direk Everett. If he attends a premiere or a charity event, the producers get the boost they want. It’s the kind of power and influence he enjoys and one he does not intend to lose.
“Direk, I have this week’s invitations for you,” Nicole hands the stack of invitations to Everett.
Everett looks at the invites: charity benefits, museum openings, and movie premieres. He sifts through until he stops at the still shot of his daughter—Cleo. She looks just as she always does: fierce and beautiful. With thick, lustrous coal-black hair and creamy almond skin, she’s a sight to behold. She’s always resembled her mother more than she does him. The only thing she inherited from him is height, a key asset to a model. But if she didn’t get many of his physical features, she got his drive and ambitions. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have made it this far.
It is and isn’t a surprise to Everett to be receiving an invite from his very own daughter. He’s never really been a father for her. He tried. He did. But she always needed a real, physical presence, and he’s never been that. He admits he’s been deficient that way, so now he’s wondering about this invitation.
“This invitation to Doll here, are you sure it’s for me?” Everett asks Nicole.
“Absolutely, Direk.”
It was for Everett.
What was going on through his daughter’s mind when she sent this? He stands there, turning it over and over in his head. If it came from Cleo, and not from the production company, who did she send it to? The director? Or her father?
It’s almost midnight by the time Cleo is finished sending out invitations. Some have already confirmed attendance, but more than half haven’t replied, probably don’t even know if their schedules will allow them to come. It’s killing her to send out those invites. She’s a nobody with no awards to show. She’s asking the starlets and directors to come to her premiere and hoping they’ll come even if it’s just because she’s the daughter of Direk Everett. Because she just wants to be given a chance. And she won’t ever have a chance if no one sees her.
Stretching out her arms, Cleo plunks herself down on the office chair, distraught by what she sent to her father. She tells herself for the nth time that it’s about the movie. They’re in the same line of work. Premiers, even for movies this small, common in this business, they’re part of the job.
So why wouldn’t she invite him? Whether he comes or not is up to him. At least she’s done her part as an actress, and maybe, just maybe, she can even say as a daughter.
“Hey, Jay?” Cleo calls out.
Jay’s the only one left in the office, and without him, all this sending of invitations would have been unbearable, impossible. Cleo wants to thank him with a coffee.
“Yes?” Jay replies as he types on the keyboard with his eyes focused on the monitor.
“Care for coffee?”
Jay leans back in his chair and turns it to face her. “You look beat, Cleo. You should go home. I can hold the fort until tomorrow.”
Cleo clasps her hands together and smiles at him. “Let me at least buy you a coffee. You’ve been a lifesaver this whole day. I know what you’re working on now is not as big as the other stuff you have going on, but I like this little film of mine.”
“Don’t worry about it, Cleo.” He ties his long hair with the rubber band on his hand before smiling back at her. “It doesn’t matter how big a movie is—what matters is how passionately you’ve played the role. I think everyone starts with something small. That’s why I work here. That’s why I’m working on your film. I want to see you start small.”
There are still kind people in the world. Cleo has to stop beating herself up. She’ll do great. If she doesn’t, then it’s okay. Little steps are still steps. She doesn’t know what the future will bring, but she can always hope.
“Thanks so much for that, Jay.” Cleo means it. She’s grateful to passing strangers, co-workers, and colleagues who think she’s worth something even though they don’t know each other.
“Anytime, Cleo. So, here’s the list of the attendees: Guinevere, a beauty queen and daughter of Direk Gary—he’s almost as big as Everett though not international; Jake, leading male TV star, son of Direk Gary and twin brother of Guinevere; Selene, Jake’s leading lady in a movie Gary is about to shoot; Yeah and . . . .”
The list goes on, but Cleo’s only half-listening. She knows they’re big people, but she’s waiting for another guest’s confirmation.
“And Everett Walter.”
Oh.
This is good, Cleo convinces herself. It’ll benefit the launch, and get it some press. But now, it means she needs to tell her mother and sister about it. Anyway, Direk Everett can be professional; like any other director, he can come to the premiere and congratulate the movie’s lead. She just never really expected him to attend. After all those years of keeping her hopes up, it seems like this year is her lucky year. For a moment there, there’s excitement, and then comes the pressure. What would he think of the movie?
“Do you think the indie movie is good?” Cleo asks Jay even though he hasn’t watched it yet. “I mean, what are your predictions?”
Cleo’s quietly panicking inside. She can’t bear to fail her father, but she knows she’s tried her best. She doesn’t want to show anyone this side of her—weak in the knees, hoping for an ounce of attention.
“What did I just say, Cleo?” Jay shakes his head. “Don’t look at the smallness of it. You’re bigger than that.”
Cleo smiles earnestly at Jay. “It’s so easy to forget about yourself when you’re trying to achieve something.”
“But?” Jay asks, knowing there’s more to come.
“But believing in yourself puts you on the right path. Thanks for today, Jay.”
Cleo’s about to show everyone what she can do, and no one, not even her father, can stop her. Because she doesn’t leave anyone behind, unlike him. She’s doing this not just for herself but for her family. She’s strong because the most challenging choices in life molded her to be. She can do it. She’s been through worse. She’ll be the star of the night—the hidden gem among the celebrities. If she can’t have a spotlight, then she’ll make one.
“Anytime, Cleo,” Jay said again. “Get some rest. We still have work to do tomorrow.” Then he says, “It’s also nice of you, as an actress, to be involved with this stuff too.”
Cleo shrugs. “I’m just helping.”
She is helping the production team, the film, and herself. It’s not like they have a lot of stuff anyway. Suddenly Cleo can’t wait for the premiere. She will make it memorable for everyone, including her father.