When Cleo wants to know a thing, she goes straight to the source. She can’t always trust what people tell her because everyone has their own version of everything, including the truth. And in showbiz, rumors travel faster than the truth. So, the day after the premiere, she’s already decided to watch it in the nearest mall, a cinema in a middle-class neighborhood. She needs to watch it in the real world to see how it fares.
“One ticket for Doll,” Cleo says at the counter.
“What time?” the woman asks, as if Cleo’s just one of the many moviegoers. But, of course, Cleo won’t be familiar; she’s not a big star.
“The 6:45, please.”
Ticket in her bag, Cleo goes around the mall, window shopping. She wonders what it’ll feel like to be recognized by anyone at any mall. Still, there are posters of her on some of the windows of the boutiques and stores. People might recognize her from those, but most people probably won’t be able to place her.
At the mall’s activity center, Cleo hears loud jeers and cheers from a crowd. People from every floor gather around to look down into the center. Curious, she follows the uproar and squeezes herself in between them, hoping to see what’s all the fuss about. When she’s finally able to get a look, she sees it’s a movie promotional tour. Usually, the lead stars of upcoming movies promote the movie by going from one city or province to another. They share everything they can about the film, take pictures with fans, and invite lucky people to the block screening. This sort of promo also happens when a teleserye is winding down. They call it the Grand Finale Mall Show. The cast talks about the show and how much it’s been a home for them. The fans want to see the stars they’ve been watching week after week and be with other fans as their favorite show comes to an end. A big part of their lives should go out with a big farewell.
In the center of the activity, love team Jerome and Nellie a.k.a. JerLie, are holding hands and singing to the crowd. Too bad Cleo’s aunts aren’t here. She’s sure they’ll be the kind who’ll run down the escalator and wedge themselves into the jam-packed crowd. It’s amazing what love teams can do. They draw fans in by acting sweet and lovey-dovey, but then the fans want more and more from them over time. They want it to be reel to real because it’s so much kilig that way. Kilig—that wonderful butterflies feeling you get in your stomach.
“Yes, Jerome and Nellie! Now, everyone wants to know: what’s the real score between the two of you?” the host asks, and everyone screams.
Jerome smiles shyly at Nellie before pulling her close. “We’re almost there.”
Cleo swears the entire mall is fangirled. They all swoon to Jerome and Nellie, and she might have too if only it were true. But she knows it’s all for show. Jerome is secretly dating a non-showbiz person. But, of course, they can’t tell the fans. It’ll disappoint them. It’s how ratings work sometimes, but she hopes that when the time comes, and they want to go their separate ways, the fans can be happy for them.
An hour later, Cleo goes back to the cinema, buying popcorn and cola. She doesn’t mind going alone to the mall or watching a movie alone. She enjoys dating herself. She doesn’t care what anybody thinks of it. She’s her own person, and no one can change her mind.
Inside the cinema, the dim lights show Cleo that there are only, like, three people in there; a man who’s dozing off and a couple who are not at all shy with their public display of affection. She shrugs it off, thinking it’s probably because she’s ten minutes early. Most people go inside five minutes before or so before the start time. Anyway, at least she has time to relax. She can’t believe she’s doing this, but she has to know what ordinary moviegoers think. Only then will she be convinced that the film is really good.
Minutes later, as the film is about to begin, Cleo stands and looks around and sees if there’s anyone else there. There are only four of them, much to her disappointment, but then maybe they’ll show up. The love team at the activity center is probably holding them up. It’s okay. They’ll come in later. But as she watches herself unfold on the big screen, anxiety works through her nerves. She can’t help looking around at the empty seats now and then. When a shadow passes by, she thinks she was right. People were tricking in now. But as the owner of the shadow comes closer, she sees it’s the security guard.
“This is crazy,” Cleo tells herself, laughing, though she’s not quite sure why. It’s crazy because her feelings are all over the place.
The screenplay and production are good, even if it’s an indie film. Watching this movie again feels like the first time. It is beautiful and enchanting. The story, characters, cinematography, and musical scoring are perfect. The film takes the audience straight into Doll’s life, into what’s happening inside her head. She’s a psychiatrist who hopes to help a mentally challenged family, but each time she talks with them, she feels less and less safe. Finally, she realizes she’s not safe at all. In the end, a revelation of her true identity: she’s not a psychiatrist but a patient in the ward.
The editing is phenomenal. They didn’t have a big budget, but it was worth every moment of her time. She doesn’t regret doing any of this, not even if there is a squeezing pain in her heart telling her she isn’t good enough to be watched. It’s agonizing to watch it with a sleeping person and a couple who can’t get over themselves, but it’s even more excruciating for her if she doesn’t keep trying.
Thankfully, when the end credits roll, sleepy man and amorous couple get up and leave. Meanwhile, Cleo stands up like a newly resurrected phoenix in front of the cinema The story is good, but maybe her acting just didn’t make the grade. She’d thought her trailers were good, but . . . . Oh, well. Maybe this is just a sign that it’s time to find something that’s really for her. And it’s okay. She’s game to try other things. She can even produce a movie or TV series. Sometimes, she needs to be her number one fan because if she isn’t, how will she survive in showbiz? Armed with this determination, she can say she walked out of the cinema with her head held high. She’s jolted out of her reverie by slow clapping. Not so slow as to be insulting. But not so fast that anyone can confuse that sound for enthusiasm.
The lights haven’t come up yet. She can’t see much as she walks up the aisle. Eventually, she sees Direk Gary in the middle of the back row.
“Direk Gary.”
Director Gary Hillaro had been kind of a fixture in Cleo’s life. Her dad would come home with Director Gary to tell their family everything about their day. Director Gary’s son Jake was the industry’s hottest male star. His daughter Guinevere, Jake’s twin, was in some sort of beauty camp for pageantry. Cleo’s dad loved Director Gary’s family so much that she usually had to scramble crumbs of his attention whenever their families had Sunday dinner nights.
Cleo remembers being close with Jake and Guinevere, and to whom opportunities usually came on a silver platter. Jake had been charming and charismatic, so it was easy for him to become king of the TV screen. For her part, Guinevere had her mother’s fierce beauty and was an alpha just like her brother. Their family had always been on the magazines and billboards, practically the industry’s royal family. And all Cleo can say is, “Sana all,” an expression of hope that everyone would have the same chance to reach those heights
Direk Everett’s attention had always been on Direk Gary’s family, so when Guinevere and Jake were on their chosen paths, they kind of forgot about Cleo, the rookie of all time. She used to play house with them until they focused on their workshops and runways. Direk Everett forgot he had his own family when the Hillaro clan became even more prominent, more than firmly established in a life full of lights, camera, action.
“I didn’t know you were here,” Cleo says. “Thank you for letting Direk Everett know about the movie.”
Direk Gary crosses his legs. “I didn’t come here for the movie. I came for you.”
“What?”
“I called your house, and Thea told me I could find you here. Sure enough, you’re here,” Direk Gary says, looking at the end credits. “I’ll be honest, Cleo. This indie film of yours is a flop.”
“It isn’t a flop,” Cleo assures Direk Gary. But even now she’s not sure who she’s trying to convince—him, or her.
“Whatever. Don’t you get it, Cleo?”
“Don’t get what?” Cleo asks. She wants to ask what he wants from her, and why did he come all the way here to tell her the movie was already a flop?
That’s what she wants—someone to tell her the truth, but she wasn’t prepared for it to come from someone close to her father.
“Where you went wrong.”
Cleo lets out a nervous laugh. There are a few reasons the movie might have gone wrong, but those same reasons might also explain why the production company decided to take a riskier path. Their aim was to make the story come through, nothing more or less.
“What do you want to say, Direk Gary? Did Direk Everett send you here?” Cleo asks, tired of going around in circles. If he wants to say something, she wished he’d just say it already.
Direk Gary smiles at Cleo. “Now, not everything has to be about you and your father. That’s not really what you want, is it?”
Cleo doesn’t say anything.
“I thought so. I came here because I wanted to see how you’re doing. You’re a smart girl, Cleo. You don’t settle with just a premiere. If there’s one way in which you and your father are most alike, it’s that you make things happen.”
Cleo shrugs. “I don’t. I just try.”
“Listen. You’ve spent years on the runway. You’re a veteran. You have stage presence, which is great, but it’s not the same as a screen presence. Look at how they edited that flip-flop commercial.”
This feels like what Cleo needs to hear: the unabridged version of the truth. “Go on.”
Direk Gary stands in front of her. “You’re twenty-four, Cleo. To be a leading lady by this point in your life, you need to start younger.”
“There’s more to being an actress than being a leading lady,” Cleo retorts. But for once, she wants to be what Direk Gary’s kids are—famous, loved by everyone.
Direk Gary looks skeptical, though. “Maybe. For some actresses.”
“I’ll think about what you said. Thank you,” Cleo responds. She appreciates his thoughts. At least someone finally gave their honest two cents. Of course, it’s better than nothing, but her mind’s made up. Cleo is moving on. She will stop chasing ticket sales or fantasies of being the next big star. But perhaps she should try being a producer or director. She is, after all, Everett’s daughter.
It’s about time Cleo does something different. She’s been chasing this dream for so long it might not even be real for her anymore, and she can’t just continually self-destruct. She has to help herself rediscover what she’s meant for, and it’s not acting.
“I’ll see you around, Cleo Walter,” Direk Gary bids his goodbye, leaving Cleo alone in the cinema. She brings out her cinema ticket and stares at it, thinking that the film’s title fits her perfectly. She’s a doll, only for display and never for action. She can be played and tossed around, but in the end, she’ll still be stationary—only moving when others tell her to. She refuses to be just a doll—a pretty thing to look at. She wants to be the mountain, the one that takes their breath away.
Cleo reaches home later that evening with a heavy heart. She feels lost and trapped like she’s forever in the bottom part of the broken Ferris wheel. She can’t go up, nor does she want to get out of it. She wants to look at the view, but then she sees a solution: other ways to see the incredible view. She doesn’t need to wait for the Ferris wheel to be fixed. And believe it, she did her best to fix it, too, even if she isn’t a ride operator.
Candy greets Cleo at the door, wagging her tail and jumping up and down, excited and so full of life. She wonders if dogs can feel what people are feeling because Candy just bowed her head, making a whimpering sound as if she’s also sad for her.
“It’s okay, girl.” Cleo caresses Candy’s head before rubbing her belly. “Thank you.”
“Anak?” Thea calls out. Cleo’s heart always melts when her mom calls her anak—her child—because it makes her feel safe. “Did you meet Gary? He called earlier, asking for you. I told him where you were.”
“Yeah, I did,” Cleo says, taking a mug out of the fridge. “Just gave some advice, is all.”
“How’d your date with yourself go?” Thea sits in a dining chair, offering Cleo some coffee.
Cleo gladly takes it. “It was okay.”
“And?”
Why is her mother so great at this? Thea always knows when something is wrong. “And there were only four, well, five in the cinema, including Direk Gary.”
“Oh, come here.” Thea pulls Cleo in for a hug.
“I don’t know why Ma.” Cleo wants to cry, but she holds back her tears. She’s a big girl. She’s gone through the worst, so why is this making her cry? “It’s okay. I’ll do something else. It’s not like I’m going jobless. You don’t have to worry.”
“Are you crazy? I care about everything you do.” Thea smiles at Cleo.
“Thank you.” Cleo sniffs. “I think I’ll do things differently this time. I’m not giving up, Ma. I’m exploring. Is that okay? I mean, I know I’m already twenty-four years old, and most of my friends have achieved their dreams already—”
“Do not ever compare yourself to others, Cleo,” Thea’s loving black eyes are firm and solid. “You’re still young, and the reason why you’re you is that you don’t know when to give up. If I were to tell you to give it up now, would you?”
Cleo shakes her head. She says hurtful things to herself, sometimes, but her actions and everything about her refuse to give in to those words. It’s like the more she voices her doubts, the more her body rebels. It’s weird how her body and head can be so out of sync with each other. She has to work on building up her confidence, though. And she’ll start tomorrow.
“Cleo Walter, the actress, is signing off,” Cleo informs Thea. “Does Direk Cleo sounds good to your ears, Ma?”
They laugh, and Cleo sees how beautiful her mother is when she’s so relaxed. Not a sign of gray in her hair yet. Only dazzling smiles and pure love—that’s what this house is.
“Yes, it does. Let’s have dinner, okay?”
The day may have been sad, but it ends sweetly. Cleo can’t wait for tomorrow to come. She feels good. Strong. Even after dinner. Even when she’s lying on her bed, daydreaming and unable to fall asleep. Before she closes her eyes, she sends a text to wish Owen luck on his second day of exams.
Finally, Cleo’s mind quiets down. This is the moment she’s been waiting for: the beginning of something new. As cliché as it sounds, it lulls her to sleep, and for once, she doesn’t want to dream. She wants to wake up in this reality.
“Something’s up,” Anne says, arms crossed. “You’re always up and running in the morning. How come you’re not buzzing around?”
True, Cleo’s not rushing like usual. She doesn’t have anywhere to go, and she plans to call her agency later in the afternoon to check on other projects. She plans to email a few directors and producers here and there and ask if she might intern under them. Chances are, they won’t notice her, but if any of those directors or producers reply, that’s a jackpot. All it takes is one “yes.”
“No taping today.” Cleo eats her favorite breakfast of tosilog, chewing slowly on the vinegar-dipped sweet fried pork of the tocino occasionally scooping up a little of the garlic rice of the sinangag. She’ll eat the egg last. It’s a hearty breakfast for a full day ahead.
“Okay, good luck, Leo. I’m off,” Anne says, picking up her bag and a bunch of papers. Her job’s pretty good. She gets to spend half a day at the school, so their mom has someone to keep her company for at least part of the day while Cleo works long hours on this or that set, some days.
“Say ‘hi’ to Billie for me!”
Anne sighs at the mention of Billie, the four-year-old kid who causes mayhem everywhere he goes. He’s a big problem at school, but Anne’s not giving up on him. She believes he’ll settle down if she’s patient enough.
After breakfast, Cleo starts on the dishes. Her mom ate earlier so she could take care of the laundry. She’s such a trooper.
Cleo’s phone rings on the countertop. She dries her hands with the dish towel and looks over at the phone. Her agency. It looks like she’s going to have another project. That’s fine. She has time.
“Hello?”
Ms. Aika is downright giddy. She only sounds that elated when she’s scored a huge coup. “Who’s the world’s best fairy godmother? You won’t believe it, but I just got you Selene Montenegro’s role!”
Cleo’s jaw drops.
“What did you say?” Cleo’s not sure she heard her agent right. “Are you serious? Is this for real?!”
Cleo’s heart is somersaulting and drumming. She wants to jump up and shriek.,
“For real!” Ms. Aika affirms with a laugh.
Cleo’s still catching her breath but she manages to ask, “Who’s directing the movie?”
And now she’s holding her breath again.
“Direk Gary,” Ms. Aika replies. “He’s looking forward to working with you. So, what do you think?”
Oh. Direk Gary. Not Direk Everett. What did Cleo expect?
It’s an opportunity of a lifetime, no question. But there’s something Cleo has to know. “Thank you so much, Ms. Aika! Can I call you back in a few minutes or so? I just have to make a quick call.”
“Sure! But don’t keep me waiting too long.”
“Thank you!” Cleo says and then speed dials Direk Gary. She has to know now: why her?