Press Release

1: Release Yourself

"Cut!" Shane yells again, and I can't help it. A sigh slips out, causing my co-star to turn and snarl at me like a baby tiger on the attack. One whose mother is holding his tail and keeping him from running into actual danger.

"Shut the fuck up, Styles! I thought the line was better the way I said it this time," he growls.

But you're not the screenwriter. I want to be snarky, but I restrain myself, smiling instead and moving to the craft services table. On "Dunkirk", Chris had treated no one like a movie star. We all were treated equally. There were no cell phones allowed on set, and there was no craft services for snacks. A huge part of me wishes that Xavier Alexander Tarrango had that experience for his first movie. Maybe he would be just a little less of a diva.

On the set of the "Golden Angel" I experienced the beauty of star treatment and the glory of a food table. And now on the set of "Press Release," I am glad of the distraction so that I don't have to think about my co-star fucking up this movie.

Snagging a banana, I peel the waxy outer coating off to reveal a perfect specimen. The pulp is free of those strings that sometimes stick to the fruit. And there isn't a single brown spot anywhere. While I'm admiring the incredible artistry of my banana, Xavier stalks past me. Angry again. This kid, mate. He's full of rage. It drips from him, and he doesn't even see it in himself.

It's day two of filming together, and I am relieved that the majority of filming has already taken place separately. He isn't a joy to be around, and we're scheduled to film together for two weeks. At the rate he's blowing through takes and film, though, it's likely to stretch into a month, and I just don't have enough patience saved up for him. He's already pissed off everyone on set, including the director. I don't know how he managed to be on a television show for four seasons without someone killing him.

His cute assistant smiles at me apologetically, and I shrug to indicate that it's not her fault. Meg is a saint. I don't know how she deals with him. I've been on set with him for a little over a day, and I'm ready to beat the snot out of him. But that's not who I am. Or at least not who people think I am.

Hi. I'm Harry. I'm from England. And I'm working on my third movie, an action flick this time. And I have an asshole for a co-star. Don't look at me that way. I know my reputation as a nice guy, and I would never jeopardize that to tell the truth about Xavier to the public. But it's just you and me here, right? So can I reveal the hidden secrets? That's what journaling is for, isn't it?

When we finally get back to filming, Shane (Black, director of such hits as "Kiss Kiss Bang Bang" and "Lethal Weapon") politely asks Xavier to please deliver the line as written, even if he "thinks there might be some more brilliant way to say it". Reluctantly, Xavier agrees, and I breathe another sigh. This time it's one of relief.

"Okay," Xavier whines, "But seriously, dude, my way is so much better. You should just trust me."

Shane rolls his eyes, and I stop myself from doing the same. My co-star is the definition of a prima donna. People called me one during that last year with 1D, but I didn't deserve the label. Just because we traveled separately that last year or so doesn't make me a "prima donna". Xavier, on the other hand, has the title tied up in a neat little bow. As far as I'm concerned, he can have it. It's a lot of work being the focus of everyone's attention.

Back on track with the filming schedule, Xavier delivers his lines as written, and I can see the talent underneath his veneer. The kid has "it": that quality that people talk about when it comes to actors. The "je ne sais quoi" that draws crowds into theaters, sells tickets and merch, and makes a movie a hit. It's a bit frustrating because the asshole part of him overshadows his gift. In fact, twice I get lost in watching him emote in front of the camera, nearly missing my line each time.