AN: New week, so I'll need some powerstones. And enjoy 2 chapters today.
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[September 9, 2012] [Milk Studios, Los Angeles]
Jack stood in front of a full-length mirror while a stylist pulled gently at the back of his charcoal trousers and another woman adjusted the cuffs of his white dress shirt.
He had been inside Milk Studios for a little over an hour, and he had already learned that getting dressed for a magazine involved considerably more people than getting dressed for a movie.
A rack beside him held enough clothing to fill half his closet at home. Tailored jackets, shirts, knitwear, trousers, coats, shoes, and accessories had been arranged by look, with small cards clipped to each outfit showing the intended combination.
Jack looked at himself in the mirror while the stylist stepped back to inspect the fit.
The charcoal trousers were slim without being tight, paired with a crisp white shirt that had been left open at the collar. A dark navy jacket waited nearby for the first formal setup.
A makeup artist named Rachel stood at Jack's side with a small brush and lightly worked beneath his right eye.
"Look up for me," Rachel said as she steadied his chin with two fingers.
Jack raised his eyes toward the ceiling while she blended a small amount of product beneath them.
Across the dressing area, GQ features writer Daniel Mercer sat in a chair with a recorder resting on the table beside him. He had introduced himself earlier with the relaxed manner of someone who knew an eight-hour interview worked better when it didn't feel like one.
Daniel glanced at his notes while Jack's collar was adjusted again. "You've been filming in Georgia all week, flew here last night, and now you're spending your only day doing this. When was the last time you had a day where absolutely nobody expected anything from you?"
Jack thought about it while Rachel moved the brush across his cheek. "I had one recently, although my dad practically ordered me to take it. I played games in my hotel room, ordered too much food, and tried very hard to ignore anything that looked remotely productive."
Daniel smiled slightly. "Did you succeed?"
"For most of the day," Jack replied. "That counts as progress for me."
Rachel took a step back and studied his face beneath the dressing-room lights before reaching for another brush.
Daniel leaned forward slightly. "You have a reputation for working constantly. Acting, producing, writing novels, developing projects. Is that something you enjoy, or do you feel pressure to keep moving?"
Jack looked toward him through the mirror. "Both, probably. I like doing what I do. Writing is fun. There are so many stories I got in my head that I want to share with everyone. And I love being on set. The problem is that when you enjoy what you do, it's easy to convince yourself you're resting because you're having fun."
Rachel gave him a knowing look while blending around his forehead.
Jack continued, "My dad pointed that out recently. I can spend 12 hours filming, come back to the hotel, write for another 3 hours, and tell myself I'm fine because I enjoyed both. My body might keep up, but eventually my brain starts telling me to stop."
Daniel glanced down at his notes. "Do you listen when it tells you that?"
"I'm learning."
The stylist returned with the navy jacket and helped Jack slide his arms into the sleeves. She straightened the shoulders, adjusted the lapels, and stepped back.
The jacket fit closely through the waist without looking tight, and the darker blue worked well against the white shirt and charcoal trousers. Another stylist stepped in to fix the hem near his hip, then checked the sleeves again before moving away.
Jack studied himself in the mirror.
He looked different without actually looking older.
That seemed to be the point.
Nobody was trying to turn him into a thirty-year-old businessman. The clothes were sharp and expensive, but his collar remained open, his hair had been kept loose, and Rachel had used just enough makeup to clean up the tiredness around his face without making him look polished beyond recognition.
Daniel watched the process quietly for a while before asking about the change in Jack's career over the last two years.
The question wasn't complicated, though Jack took a few seconds before answering.
"I think people started taking me more seriously after The Fault in Our Stars," he said. "Before that, I was still the kid who was trying to make a comeback. 17 Again and Narnia were just the start. But... The Fault in Our Stars... That film changed things."
Daniel asked, "You surprised everyone when you chose to act in The Fault in Our Stars instead of another big-budget fantasy film after Narnia. People loved that movie, and I even watched it with my family twice in the theater. Fans were expecting a sequel or something similar. But you went in a different direction with The Fault in Our Stars. It was a beautiful movie. Its emotional honesty, tragic story, and themes of young love facing death made it hard to watch without a box of tissues. Were you trying to prove something by choosing that film?"
Jack looked at himself in the mirror while the stylist fixed the jacket one last time.
"Maybe a little. Mostly, I just loved the story. If I'd picked it only to prove I could act, I probably would've ruined it."
Daniel made a quick note.
Jack didn't say much more. He'd already learned that interviews became easier when he answered what had actually been asked instead of trying to turn every response into a speech.
Rachel brushed a small amount of powder over his forehead, checked his jaw under the light, and finally stepped away.
The fashion editor came over next, looked at the full outfit from several angles, then nodded toward the studio floor.
Jack followed the crew out of the dressing area.
..
The first photography setup looked almost too simple when Jack saw it.
A plain gray background had been stretched behind a small section of the studio floor. Large lights stood on both sides, with white reflectors angled toward the center. A monitor had been set up several feet away, where a few members of the GQ team watched the live images coming from the camera.
Selina Lance stood near the middle of the set with her camera hanging from one hand.
Jack had seen some of her work before coming in. Her photographs were clean, usually simple, and focused heavily on the person rather than the background. She didn't seem interested in filling the frame with props or making the subject look dramatic for no reason.
She looked him over as he stepped onto the marked position.
"Turn a little to your right."
Jack shifted his body.
"Keep your face toward me."
He did.
The first few photographs were mostly about getting him comfortable.
Selina had him move his shoulders, change the position of his hands, adjust his jacket, and turn his head by small amounts while she watched through the camera. Whenever Jack became too still, she told him to keep moving instead of waiting for the shutter.
That helped.
Movie sets had trained him to hit marks and hold positions, but this worked differently. There was no dialogue, no scene, and no character telling him what emotion belonged on his face. The smallest things suddenly mattered more. Where his hand rested. How much weight sat on one leg. Whether his mouth looked relaxed or tense.
At first, Jack became too aware of everything.
His hands felt strange.
His shoulders felt stiff.
Even standing still felt strangely complicated.
Then Selina told him to stop trying so hard.
That was easier advice to follow.
Jack adjusted one cuff, looked away from the camera, then glanced back while Selina kept shooting. He moved one hand into his pocket, shifted his stance, and let the jacket open naturally.
The shutter clicked several times in quick succession.
Selina lowered the camera and checked the monitor.
"That's better."
Jack relaxed a little.
The next few minutes went much more smoothly.
He stopped thinking about each movement before making it. He adjusted the jacket because it felt natural, changed his stance when his leg became uncomfortable, and let his expression settle instead of trying to look serious.
The photographs improved almost immediately.
The fashion editor came over halfway through the setup and removed the jacket. Jack stayed in the white shirt and charcoal trousers while the sleeves were rolled slightly below his elbows.
This time, Selina had him stand closer to the background and turn sideways.
The look felt less formal.
Jack rested one hand near his pocket while looking past the camera. A second later, Selina asked him to look directly into the lens.
He did.
The change was small, but something about the direct eye contact made the whole frame feel different.
'Holy shit! He's hot! And his eyes... Phew~' Selina thought as she checked the image on the monitor, then showed it to the fashion editor.
Jack couldn't see the screen from where he stood, though he noticed the quiet nod between them.
That probably meant they liked it.
They kept shooting.
...
The first clothing change came after nearly forty minutes.
Jack returned to the dressing room, where the navy jacket disappeared, and a cream knit shirt replaced the white one. The stylists changed his trousers too, moving him into a darker brown pair that felt softer and much closer to something he might actually wear.
Rachel sat him down again and touched up the makeup around his forehead and nose.
His hair had shifted slightly during the first session, so another stylist worked through it with her fingers while Daniel moved his chair closer.
The interview continued without much ceremony.
Daniel asked about acting and writing at the same time, something Jack had been asked plenty of times before.
Jack explained that the two jobs felt different in his head.
Acting meant stepping into a world somebody else had built and finding the person he was supposed to play inside it. Writing meant building the world himself and hoping people cared enough to stay there.
He'd also started reading scripts differently after writing novels and screenplays.
Before, Jack mostly cared about what his character wanted and how each scene affected him emotionally. Now he noticed structure more. He paid attention to why a scene existed, when dialogue was repeating information, when a moment needed silence, and whether a character was being pushed forward just because the writer needed the story to move.
Daniel asked whether that made him harder to direct.
Jack smiled slightly.
"I hope not."
He thought about it for a moment before adding that he still believed the director had to run the set. Having ideas didn't mean every idea needed to become an argument.
That answer seemed to interest Daniel more than Jack expected.
The writer asked whether Jack liked being involved creatively beyond acting.
Jack nodded while the stylist fixed the collar of the knit shirt.
"Yeah. I like understanding the whole movie. I don't need to control everything, though. That's why you hire people who are better than you at their jobs."
That felt especially true after Zombieland.
Jack could write scenes, act in them, and help shape the movie, but he had no interest in pretending he knew more about lighting than the lighting crew or more about stunt work than the people keeping everyone alive.
The stylist stepped back once the outfit was ready.
Daniel switched off the recorder while Jack stood.
They would pick the conversation up again during the next break.
...
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