Selene Who?
It’s Cleo Walter Now
“Gary speaking.”
Direk Gary’s tone is formal. Cleo not being in his circle, she’s an “unknown caller” on his phone screen. Amazing, really, that he took the call at all.
“Hi! It’s Cleo,” Cleo says.
“Oh, Cleo! To what do I owe the honor?”
Cleo prepares her black coffee as she talks. She’s restless and doubts that coffee is the best cure for it, but it’s her comfort drink. She needs to do something ordinary as she listens to whatever Direk Gary is going to say. “You’re replacing Selene, and I’m taking over her role?”
“Yes! We’ll start taping next week, so you have this coming weekend to—”
Cleo interrupts Direk Gary. “Why me?”
“Because why not?” Direk Gary fires back. “It’s Jake’s idea.”
Cleo goes back to eighteen years ago or so. She could barely remember six-year-old-ish Jake, who used to play jackstones with her. Even as a little boy he was charming, but she’d never had any special closeness with him. They just played around, the way kids play in the playground, where image and status in life don’t matter. It was a long time ago, and they hadn’t been in much contact since. He knew plenty of other actresses, so Cleo found it hard to believe that this was his idea.
Cleo doesn’t believe Direk Gary, and she’s a little amused by what she’s sure is a lie, but she’s going to run with it anyway. People can theorize as much as they want about how she got that role, and why. But she’s a free woman who can do as she chooses as long as she’s hurting no one. She’s not stealing a role. She’s taking over for someone who can no longer fill it. The only person who’s allowed to come at her is herself. And since she’s been dreaming of the spotlight for ages, what’s wrong with taking a given chance to make it to the top?
“Oh.” Cleo tries to sound pleased yet cool and calm. She wants to act like this isn’t the best thing that’s ever happened to her, but she can feel her smile stretching from ear to ear. “Please pass along my thanks. I really appreciate this.”
Cleo crosses her legs, already imagining her mall shows. She stands and begins gliding side to side, lost in her little world.
“My assistant will email you everything you’ll need,” Direk Gary says.
“Great! I look forward to it! And thank you!” Cleo says, aware that her pitch is going up in her excitement. She coughs, trying to contain her excitement. She hangs up and picks Candy up in her arms. Candy’s tongue is sticking out. She barks at Cleo.
“Ah, yes, my number one furry fan!” Cleo says to Candy, putting her down and giving her belly rubs. “Candy, can you believe it? I’ll be a starlet soon! So, what’s on your wish list?”
Candy barks again at Cleo as if she can understand her.
“Extra treats for you, of course.” Cleo leans into Candy. “Ah, right. You’ve always wanted a friend. Maybe we can adopt from the shelter, and then I’ll get you both a better house.”
“What are you doing to Candy?” Anne asks, dropping her bag on the couch and heaving a sigh. While she loves kids, they also give her a migraine. “Oh, poor baby, forced to listen to Leo’s daydreams again.”
“Hey!” Cleo protests, laughing in sheer joy. “She likes me.”
Anne pets Candy and smiles. “Care to explain why Candy’s acting like the number one fanatic again?”
“I am the new Selene Montenegro,” Cleo says, brushing off her hair on one side and winking at Anne. “Did that have a dazzling effect?”
“Leo, just spill it.”
“You have no patience at all.” Cleo wags her index finger, shushing her sister. “Listen to this call.”
Intrigued, Anne pulls up a chair for both of them. Sitting comfortably, Cleo puts her phone on the table and rings Ms. Aika. For a few seconds, she and Anne share a look, and on the fifth ring, Ms. Aika finally answers her phone.
“So, my little Cinderella, are you ready to slip into your glass slippers and dance the night away as you replace Selene Montenegro?”
Anne gasps, covering her mouth. Cleo shushes her. “Wave that wand! Not even the stroke of midnight can stop me.”
“That’s great to hear! . . . You know, I knew you could do it!”
No, Ms. Aika didn’t. Cleo knows the woman’s just doing her job and is sick of getting in touch with people. She wants to be promoted and focus on one actor. It’ll also help if that actor is part of the celebrity A-list. But that chance just didn’t come. Until today.
Cleo wagers Ms. Aika has already talked to Direk Gary about it, so she won’t be surprised if she gets to be Cleo’s road manager the next day.
“Leo . . . you’re going to be the next . . . Selene?”
That sounds about right. Anne pulls Cleo into their room as if they’re secretly hiding something.
“Wait—let me open my email and get the script.” Cleo opens her laptop as Anne looks over her shoulder.
There are lots of attachments in Cleo’s emails. That alone is new and exciting. The first sign, however tiny, that things are changing. If others see her as a wannabe model and actress, then that’s even better. She’s a wannabe turned into what everyone wants to be. She’ll make a good story for interviews: a nobody turned somebody. She can’t wait for the social media comments. She’s sure there’ll be mixed reactions, but it’s the kind of reactions she’s been waiting for.
Carefully, Cleo reads through the email threads. The movie is called The Boyfriend Switch. She checks out the synopsis first. She wants a sense of the overall story, and since this as was originally written for Selene, she knows she’ll need to adjust.
SYNOPSIS
Two struggling-in-life best friends, Nina and Lara, are given a chance to participate in a reality game show. In this show, they have to trade boyfriends—whoever earns more scores and popularity points every week by getting to know the boyfriend of the other contestant wins the show. But then Nina begins to actually fall in love with Lara’s boyfriend and finds out behind the cameras that her boyfriend and best friend may not be her boyfriend and best friend at all.
“That sounds interesting,” Anne has been following along. “It’s very much like Selene.”
But Cleo’s not aiming to be Selene, and she wants bring Cleo to the role, and to come out of it as Cleo. She has to fit the role, yes, but in her own way. She can blaze her own trail and do more for the part at the same time. It’s not going to be easy, but it’s not every day she gets an opportunity like this.
“Hmm . . . I don’t like how these people talk about you.”
Shaking off her thoughts, Cleo turns to Anne. “What do you mean?”
Anne hands Cleo her phone. Cleo’s name is all over the articles on her timeline and newsfeed. The headlines all essentially say one thing: Who is this Cleo Walter?
On all the social media sites, netizens say Cleo’s the daughter of Direk Everett, as always. It’s nothing new. She’s an actress, but only by name. Her photos are everywhere, and people are making a feast out of it. They tell their friends that she’s pretty. And she is. There’s no point pushing that under the rug—if she didn’t have beauty, no one would be talking about her at all. It’s what they all come for. But it makes things worse, somehow, because a lot of her beauty genes came from her American father, and everybody loves half-someone.
Cleo rolls her eyes at the photos of her and her father. She scrolls further down, hoping that someone out there is looking forward to seeing her on the big screen. And someone is. Life isn’t so cruel to her, after all.
@jokinglyyourss: @CleoWalter is a breath of fresh air among other Selenes!
But someone is bashing @jokinglyyourss for supporting Cleo instead of Selene. Typical. Selene can’t play the role now, anyway, but the fans don’t even consider that angle. They’re a cult of A-list worshippers.
@josterly: @jokinglyyourss, no one can replace Selene!!! Wth are you talking about?
And then something hits Cleo: Owen. They’re supposed to have a weekend getaway, but Cleo’s already said yes to the movie.
Cleo stands up, and hands the phone back to Ann, who manages to keep reading through the exchange. She grabs her own phone can calls Owen.
“Hey, babe,” Owen greets, his voice soothing her jittery nerves.
Cleo bites her lower lip in anticipation, suppressing the urge to spill everything out in one go. “Hi. How’re your exams?”
“They’re okay.” Owen sounds tired. “Sorry, we can’t have dinner tonight. We have the entire weekend ahead of us anyway.”
Cleo cringes at the mention of the weekend. It should have been their escape from reality, but it’s also going to be her life-changing weekend. “Um, so . . .”
“What is it?” Owen almost always knows when something’s up.
Cleo hesitates. “This amazing thing has come up, and now I have a real dilemma. I don’t know what to do. We’re supposed to go to Hong Kong this weekend, and one of the biggest directors in the country asked me to be in a film.”
Cleo’s quiet, and for a while, neither speaks until Owen finally says, “Hong Kong isn’t going anywhere. No big deal, of course, you have to do it!”
Smiling, Cleo breathes out a sigh of relief. He genuinely sounds okay with the idea of it too. It’s a win-win for both of them. He gets to rest while she gets to prepare over the weekend. A year that’s starting out dark turns out to be a classic blue.
Owen’s been looking at his food app for hours now, scrolling through different restaurants and cafes, but he still can’t find the perfect meal or snack for Cleo. She’s been holed up in her room the entire day, preparing for this huge role. Kind of like being glued to your class materials to pass a board exam. Owen knows what that’s like. He’s sitting on his computer chair, tapping his pen mindlessly on the table. He glances back to his chatbox with Cleo on his Lookbook social media account, checking to see if she’s replied. She hasn’t. And so he texts her again. It’s his fifth text in an hour.
“Sir?” Jenny, the maid, comes into Owen’s room, bringing the coffee he asked for.
“Thanks,” Owen says curtly, taking the coffee from the maid.
Jenny stands there and looks at him as if trying to solve the same puzzle he’s working on. “Cleo again?”
Owen nods, closing the food app and opening multiple tabs on his computer’s browser. He opens a shopping website in one tab, scrolling through a collection of flowers and clothes, but none of it catches his attention. Nothing too good for his girlfriend. It has to be something he hasn’t given her before. That makes it even more difficult.
“Ang Ganda ng necklace na binigay mo sa Kanya, sir,” Jenny says, looking over Owen’s shoulder.
Jenny was the one who helped Owen pick the necklace he gave Cleo before. It’s lovely, of course. He buys only the best for Cleo, but if he’s given the best, what else can he give? She’s someone who doesn’t ask for anything, and it drives him crazy sometimes.
“Pero the gift must come from the heart.”
Owen turns around and faces Jenny. She looks tired but also happy in her blue maid uniform. The wrinkles under her eyes turn up as she smiles. She’s a fifty-something woman who’s been part of the household for over ten years, and he thinks of her as family. He listens to her because she treats him like he’s her son. Her motherly ways have helped him a lot during times when he didn’t know what to make of his relationship with Cleo.
“You’re right. Thank you.” Owen sighs. “And don’t call me ‘sir’. Just call me by my name.”
Jenny does call Owen by his name, when his family and friends are not around. Once in a while, she forgets.
“Okay, Owen.” Jenny smiles at him before leaving the room.
With Jenny’s words in Owen’s mind, he stands up, stretches his arms, and checks his watch. It’s only 5 p.m. The night is still ahead, and the possibilities are endless. Determined to lighten the stress on Cleo as much as he can, he goes down to their garage and hops on his motorcycle. He puts on his helmet and is about to speed away when his brother suddenly stops him.
Mark stands in front of Owen in his full black suit. He’s looking at him in all seriousness. He’s just like their father—stone cold. “You’re not joining us for dinner?”
“No. I have somewhere to be.”
“Is it a meeting? A trip to the office? A consultation with your professor?” Mark hurls one question after another. He interrogates Owen like he’s caught him red-handed at something.
Owen shrugs, refusing to answer. Instead, he revs his engine and drives away, out of his sight and into the open space. He drives faster, slipping through the rush hour traffic jams. Jeepney and bus drivers honk at him as he glides in between them. He comes to a complete halt at a red light. Glancing to the side, he sees another man on a motorcycle. The man grins at him, his crooked teeth decaying.
The traffic light turns yellow. And then green. Owen smiles as he drives in a rush, and when he gets to his destination, he grins.
Cleo hears the sound of his motorcycle and runs out. “Babe!” she cries as she bolts down to the gate. It squeals on its rusty hinges as she throws it open and practically jumps into Owen’s arms. “You’re all sweaty. What happened to you?”
“I wanted to see you.” Owen smiles at her. As always, she looks naturally beautiful, even in her white shirt and shorts. The long locks of her hair are tied in braids, her lips pursed as if she’s telling him a secret that only she and the universe know. Her beauty never fails to astound him. She’s ethereally angelic, but her aura defies what she looks like—an enchanter, a siren, and an apple from the forbidden tree.
“I’m sorry—” Cleo begins fumbling over the words.
Owen kisses Cleo’s cheek. “Hey, it’s okay.”
“Thank you! I feel so much better now that you’re here! I’ve been reading the script for hours, and it’s just frustrating me, you know?” Cleo grumbles, leaning into Owen. “I’m all over the internet, and they’re waiting for me to fail.”
Owen doesn’t know about that. He’s barely on social media. He’s only there for Cleo, where he gets tagged in memes and romantic posts. He ignores them because he doesn’t see the point in commenting when he can say what he thinks of it directly to her.
Owen pulls a folder out of his bag and smiles at her. “How about we read lines?”
Surprised, Cleo takes the folder from Owen and finds the printed script inside.
“It’s a date. You and me, on the rooftop, reading lines. How does that sound to you?” Owen asks.
And in a flash, all the strain goes out of Cleo’s face. They don’t waste a minute. They lounge on the rooftop, facing each other as they read the lines. As she listens to him read, he sees a smile play upon her lips every now and then. They don’t have time for cuddling tonight, but that’s fine. Owen goes off graciously, as always.
Next day, Cleo’s even busier. Owen knows she’s under a lot of pressure. Phoning her won’t cheer her up. He’s lucky if he gets five minutes of her time. He sends her food, and she says thank you, and the conversation ends there. The shoot hasn’t started yet, but it feels like he’s already headed for the sideline. He keeps his patience. He knows she needs this after her series of disappointments. He knows what disappointment feels like.
That Sunday evening, Owen and Cleo are on the rooftop, rereading lines. This is the only time he can have her to himself. He’s willing to take any time she has available. If that means reading lines, then he’s happy to do that all night long, if she wants.
“Okay, you should try acting a bit cocky,” Cleo comments after Owen has finished reading. “The character is a cocky man, and Jake is a—”
“Jake is your leading man?” Owen interrupts Cleo, curious. He doesn’t know much about the guy, but he knows Jake is a big name.
“Yeah. I told you about Jake before. Remember him?”
“Your childhood friend,” Owen mutters, flipping through the pages of the script and reading a lot of I love you’s and kissing scenes. He’s been so busy trying to read lines with her it has only just hit him that she’s about to get all sweet with her childhood friend.
“Yeah. He thought of me for the role, too. This was his idea,” Cleo adds, staring at Owen. “You’re fine with it, right? This won’t be the first time I’ll be having an on-screen partner.”
True, it isn’t, but this is the first time Cleo gets to be with someone she knows. Owen simply smiles at her. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You’re the best boyfriend ever!” Cleo squeals, putting her arms around Owen. “After the shoot, I promise you, we’re free to go to Hong Kong!”
Owen can’t wait for the shoot to be over with already.