"Easy, boy," I called out to the horse standing in front of me. Just like me and Zoe, the horse was fitted with motion-sensing balls all over its body, allowing the VFX team to use its real movements as the basis for the animated creature they would later create.
"Pale is female," Zoe corrected in her accented voice. The [Avatar] team had decided that the native Na'vi people would speak in an accent distinct from American or British English, which made sense when you thought about it. Anyone learning a new language later in life would naturally speak it with a different inflection than a native speaker.
Acknowledging the correction, I amended, "Okay, easy girl."
I stepped closer to the horse, which was being held steady by several animal handlers, and climbed onto its back. The tamers weren't wearing motion-capture suits for obvious reasons. Their presence would be erased during post-production. In fact, nothing from the scene other than body movements and facial expressions of me, Zoe, and the horse would ultimately matter in the motion-capture process.
Each day on this set, the more I learned about this technology, the more it astonished me.
Zoe began murmuring something soothing in Na'vi beside the horse, calming it further. It helped that the animal they had chosen was already a naturally docile member of its breed.
I reached toward the antenna-like styrofoam tube fixed to the back of the horse's head, then brought forward my own prop ponytail from behind me and touched the two ends together.
A startled sound came from one of the handlers, and the horse suddenly bucked. It was brought under control again quickly. Zoe stood beside it, calmly acting as if she had soothed it herself.
"That is shahaylu. The bond," she explained, noticing my confused expression. "Feel her."
I closed my eyes, doing exactly that. A faint smile spread across my face as a surprising sense of connection with the horse came over me.
"Feel her heartbeat. Her breath. Her strong legs. You may tell her what to do. Inside your head," Zoe's voice resonated softly.
Just then, she took a few steps back and instructed, "For now, say where you want to go."
"Forward," I said, pointing in that direction.
Right on cue, the horse began to move, its steps steady and measured. Meanwhile, the stunt coordinator ran behind us, clearly prepared to intervene if I lost my balance.
Everything happened in a flash. One second, I was sitting confidently atop the horse; the next, I hit the ground like a sack of potatoes. There had been a mat placed for my fall, but something had gone wrong. Maybe the horse had been too fast, or I had been too slow to react. Either way, I missed the landing zone by a full meter.
The moment I hit the ground, a bolt of pain shot through my shoulder. I didn't need a doctor to tell me—I had almost certainly broken it.
Normally, a stunt like this would be handled by a professional double to ensure the actor's safety. But Jim had unofficially asked if I wanted to try it myself, for the sake of authenticity. Legally, he couldn't advise me to do the stunt, so I had to sign off my right to sue the production in case of injury.
Something I was seriously regretting now.
Zoe laughed and walked over to me, still in character, as I got up on all fours. A fresh spike of pain shot through my shoulder, confirming that something was definitely wrong. Still, I didn't ask them to halt the shoot.
It had been agreed early on that filming would only stop if either Jim or I gave the signal. Neither of us did.
Just then, two men came riding in on their own horses. One of them was my friend Michael.
They stopped a few feet in front of me. It was weird seeing multiple horses inside such a space, but nothing was normal where the shooting of a film like [Avatar] was concerned.
"You should go away," Michael called out, his voice carrying the Na'vi accent as well.
Despite the pain, I grinned. "Nah, you'll miss me." I raised my good arm and pointed at him. "I knew you could speak English."
Michael huffed and turned to Zoe, who had returned to stand beside me, holding the same horse that had thrown me earlier. He began speaking fluent Na'vi to her.
Meanwhile, I theatrically began wiping off imaginary mud, smearing it off my face, chest, arms, even my tongue, for comedic effect.
The two riders left soon after, disappearing into the distance. Zoe turned to me with a serious expression.
"Again."
"Cut!" Jim's voice rang out across the set. "That was perfect. Let's move on."
As soon as he said it, I reached for my injured shoulder and winced. This time, I groaned aloud.
Zoe, who was still standing closest to me, noticed and frowned as she stepped forward. "What happened, Troy? Are you hurt?"
"It'll be fine," I said, brushing off her concern. "I'll go see a doctor when we're done here."
Her frown deepened. She turned and waved at Jim. "Hey! Jim! I think we need a doctor here for Troy."
"Stop it, Zoe," I called out, but another jolt of pain made me wince hard.
Maybe I did need a doctor.
Immediately, the set fell into a hush. The on-set medic, present exactly for situations like this, was already by my side, crouching down to examine me.
"You should've told me you were hurt sooner," Jim said gently, watching as the doctor carefully began freeing my arm from the tight sleeve of my motion-capture suit. It hurt like hell.
I grunted. "I didn't think it was that bad."
"It's broken for sure," the doctor said after a brief assessment, pressing gently along my shoulder. Each touch sent another pulse of pain shooting through me.
Zoe still looked worried. "You still chose to finish the scene? I wouldn't have."
I shrugged out of habit, and instantly regretted it. Another jolt of pain tore through me, making me suck in a sharp breath.
"Stop moving your shoulder," the doctor said firmly. "You need to get to a hospital for an X-ray. Now."
"Go," Jim echoed, backing the doctor up.
I turned to him, about to say I was fine, but he held up a hand to cut me off.
"No. Your health is our top priority. Get it checked out and take the weekend off. Rest."
Ah, the weekend. I had plans. All of which were going to be difficult to carry out now, thanks to this injury.
(Break)
"What happened to your arm?" Gabriel Vasquez, my concert manager in L.A., asked as soon as he saw me in a sling.
"It's my shoulder," I corrected, my voice tinged with mild frustration. "I broke it doing a stunt for a movie."
It wasn't Gabriel's fault. Every person who saw the sling assumed something was wrong with my arm. He was just the latest in a long line.
"Are you sure—"
"Yeah, I'm sure I want to do this concert," I cut him off. "People have been waiting for this moment for a long time. I can't disappoint them all. Just no dancing, backflips, or playing instruments."
That last part stung more than I wanted to admit. But it couldn't be helped. If I wanted to get back to filming in a few days, I had to heal. Whether it was drums, guitar, or piano, all of which I could play, they required my right hand. And that hand was now completely off-limits.
If I were being honest, there were two big reasons I was still going through with this concert.
One was the Grammys. The nominations had been announced, and like last year, I was up for all three of the general awards I was eligible for and had the most nominations of all artists. Personally, I didn't care much about getting another Grammy. But I wasn't the only one nominated. Taylor was also in the running for both her debut album and the songs she recorded with me for my album. A win could mean a major leap forward for her career.
The second reason was simpler: Helen.
My sister would be flying back to London with her parents in two days, and I wanted this concert to be a farewell gift for her. Gabriel had somehow pulled off the logistics on short notice. When the owners of the Staples Center found out I wanted to perform there, they agreed almost instantly.
Twenty thousand tickets sold out overnight. Everything was falling into place—at least until now.
I just hoped everything would go smoothly, especially with what I had planned for after the concert. I'm still not sure if my approach is the correct one or not.
(Break)
"You are adorable," Taylor said, leaning forward to hug Helen. "Had I known you were in London all this time, I would've taken Troy up on his offer to visit sooner."
Helen, wearing oversized headphones, blushed furiously and looked up shyly at her older brother, who gently patted her head.
"Why don't you go back with Scarlett to the VIP section?" Troy suggested.
She nodded silently, her body language relaxing with visible relief, and followed Scarlett without another word.
Taylor watched her go, smiling at the quiet love and protectiveness Troy showed. The headphones had been his idea to shield Helen from the loud concert audio. He had even brought her backstage just so she could meet Taylor in person.
"She's a little shy," Troy explained. "At least when it comes to meeting celebrities other than me and Scarlett. But she adores you. She didn't ask to come here, but I know she loved every second of it and will talk about meeting you all day tomorrow."
"Aww, really? That's so sweet." Taylor beamed, thinking once again how deeply Troy cared for his sister.
And then there was her younger brother, Austin.
Taylor gave a sideways glance to the lazy boy sprawled on the sofa chair behind her, flipping through a magazine of all things.
"Austin, can you at least show some manners today?" she asked, her voice laced with irritation.
"Manners?" He raised an eyebrow without looking up. "You dragged me here, remember? I wanted to stay home and chill." Then he turned toward Troy. "Honestly, I don't know what you see in her."
Taylor rolled her eyes. This was their routine, trading insults in front of others, but for some reason, his jab felt unusually sharp today.
Troy regarded Austin quietly for a moment before speaking. "Do you want to go back, then? I can arrange a cab for you. For you and all your friends outside." He turned to Taylor with a wink. "What do you say, Tay?"
"Great idea!" she said, grinning. "We literally have hundreds of people lining up outside. Might as well give those tickets to someone who actually wants them."
Austin shot to his feet and made for the door. "Nah, it's fine. Now that we're here, we might as well watch the whole thing. Troy's excellent. It's only the Taylor part that's lacking."
"You!" Taylor hissed, starting toward him, but he had already dashed out of the room.
She made to follow him, but Troy gently caught her arm with his uninjured hand.
"Calm down," he said softly. "Forget about the rest and focus on the present."
Taylor frowned. "Are you sure you'll be okay performing like that?"
Troy sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Of course I'll be. Now go rock the stage. I'll join you soon."
She wasn't entirely convinced, but she nodded and left.
The night carried an extra weight. This wasn't just a regular concert. It was being streamed live on YouTube. Millions could be watching around the world, not just the twenty thousand in the audience. The thought made her stomach flutter. It was daunting, yes—but also exhilarating.
Thanks to Troy, her music career was already on an upward climb. Tonight would only push it higher.
She stepped onto the stage to deafening cheers.
"Hello, Los Angeles!" she called into the microphone.
The crowd roared back.
"Tonight's special," she continued, pacing across the front of the stage. "Because I'm not starting solo. I'm starting with a duet. So please welcome the one you really came to see tonight. He's had a little accident, but he can still sing with all the fire in the world. Troy Armitage!"
As she stepped aside, the stage behind her opened, and out came Troy.
He wore a silver jacket over a white tank top and black trousers. The black sling on his right arm stood out starkly against the rest of his outfit, but when he began to sing the opening lines of her favorite song from his second album, none of it mattered.
[Say Something - A Great Big World, Christina Aguilera]
~ Say something, I'm giving up on you
I'll be the one, if you want me to
Anywhere, I would've followed you
Say something, I'm giving up on you~
(Break)
Riley felt a deep pang of sadness knowing that once again, Troy had chosen to hold his concert in the U.S. instead of his home country. The only silver lining was that he was livestreaming the entire event on his platform, YouTube, and the viewer count was staggering. A total of 5.3 million people were watching the show live from around the world.
And then, the concert began. The glowing lights from the Xylobands made the concert come alive.
The opening song was the one that always made Riley cry, especially her favorite line:
~ And I... will swallow my pride
You're the one... that I love
And I'm saying goodbye ~
The raw ferocity and depth with which Troy and Taylor sang it together were beyond words. The emotion hit Riley like a wave, her eyes brimming with tears. She couldn't pull herself away from the screen, even if she wanted to. For the next two hours, she watched the entire performance—Troy singing every song from his new album, and even a few beloved tracks from his first. Taylor performed several solo songs from her debut album, but nothing compared to the sheer power of Troy's live vocals. There was something magnetic, something transcendent about his voice.
Then came the end of the show.
Troy stepped forward and took the mic. His next words caught Riley's full attention.
"I know I haven't performed many concerts," he said. "I really want to, but my film career always gets in the way. Still, I'll be doing at least one more concert. The date and venue have already been decided, but I won't tell you right now. If you want to know when and where it is, an announcement video will be released tonight on my YouTube channel. If you check now, you'll see a countdown is already up on my channel, which will go live in about an hour. So check it out if you wanna know where I'll be performing next. Thank you for coming tonight."
The stream ended shortly after, but Riley was more excited than ever. Maybe—just maybe—Troy's next concert would be in London.
It was already late in the UK, but Riley didn't care. She was willing to stay up for another hour. If the concert was in London, it was best to book her tickets right away. She put Troy's album on repeat and watched the countdown tick away.
And then, the video went live.
But it was nothing like what Riley, or anyone else, was expecting.
"I'm so sorry for misleading you," Troy began the video in a somber voice. "This is not a concert announcement. I'm making this video today to share a grave injustice that is happening in the US and the UK, the two nations I'm a citizen of. Like most celebrities, I could have stayed silent and completely ignored this issue, but I couldn't. My conscience wouldn't allow it. I realize that I'm in a place of privilege, where I can say anything without worrying about facing unemployment."
Troy took a deep breath before sharing his story. A story that shook the entire world by morning.
________________________
AN: Visit my personal website to read ahead, or check out my second Hollywood story set in the 80s.
Link: www(dot)fablefic(dot)com