“I’d rather count my money after the movie is released,” I replied, shaking his hand.

“We’re ready,” someone called, motioning to the chairs set up right in front of the Russian roulette table.

Amelia lifted the bottom of the long-sleeved backless black gown she wore in order to sit down. A slit on the side opened all the way to her mid thigh, as if being beside her wasn’t already tempting. When she smirked at me, I knew she was aware of what she was doing, and to push me further, she crossed legs. Since we had started filming, I had noticed a change in her: she was bolder, more comfortable with her own sexuality, and it turned me on to no end.

Sinners Like Us was the metamorphosis of Amelia London.

Unbuttoning my jacket, I sat down beside her, lifting my chin for the makeup artist and the hair stylist to finish their final touches. I was tempted to mess up my hair just to screw with them.

“Let’s start with you, Noah, and, Amelia, you answer afterward,” said the man in front us, looking at me. His voice would most likely be cut out in the final version. He was just there to help prompt us to speak.

“What did you first think of when you saw the script?” he asked.

“I thought, ‘I could do this.’ I didn’t even read it. I just remember seeing the title and knowing that if there was anyone in Hollywood fit to play Damon Shaw, it was me…unlike someone,” I coughed, and Amelia smacked my shoulder.

“Hey!” she said, making a face. “When I saw you right before casting, wasn’t I glowing with confidence? It was you who wasn’t sure if I could do it.”

“Touché,” I nodded. “I’ve been proven totally and completely wrong, though.”

“He might be biased, but never mind,” she said, focusing on the camera. “Truthfully, I was intrigued by the movie, but being so well-known as a child actress, I was initially worried about how this would affect my career. The day the cast list went up, I remember reading a petition to have me replaced, and under the worst photo they could possibly find of me were over ten thousand signatures.”

“Jesus, really?” I frowned, not remember hearing anything about that. “I do my best not to Google or read anything with my name on it.”

“Such a smart idea,” she laughed.

“What do you guys actually think of your characters, Damon Shaw and Blair Hawthorne?” the assistant asked.

“They’re fucking crazy,” Amelia answered.

“Are they, though?” I questioned.

Her eyebrow rose as she looked at me. “Scene nine,” she said.

I thought about that for a second, grinning, and nodded in agreement. “Okay, so they are fucking crazy, but that’s just part of their charm. I mean, to me, Damon Shaw is the epitome of the three Cs: cool, cunning, and confident. He’s always thinking about the big picture in order to get what he wants.”

“Meanwhile, Blair Hawthorne,” Amelia added, “is just this fiery volcano. She’s always active and is a creature of her passions. She may think she knows it all and oftentimes gets herself in trouble. But the thing about Damon and Blair’s relationship is that they always have each other’s backs no matter what. If Blair were to kill someone, Damon—without question—would hide the body.”

“On the flip side, if Damon were to go to prison for that murder, Blair would work out a full-scale prison break,” I replied

“Oh, if that happened, where do you think they’d run to? They’d be hunted all over the world?” the assistant questioned, sitting on the edge of his chair.

“Kazakhstan,” Amelia and I said at the same time, forcing us to look at each other and break out laughing.

“Why Kazakhstan?” I asked her.

“You first,” she shot back.

I shrugged. “I remember seeing it on a documentary called—”

“… No Extradition! I watched that same one!” she finished for me.

“Was Kazakhstan the only country on the list?” we were asked, forcing us to look away from each other for a second.

“No,” Amelia answered, glancing back at me. “Croatia was on the list, but I figured Damon would grow bored there.”

“Dubai was also on the list, but I thought Blair would drive Damon crazy complaining about the heat. So…”

“Kazakhstan,” we both said again.

“You both are so in tune with your characters. Is that just your skills as actors, or is there something about these characters specifically that captures you?” the man asked.

“I think they’re just fun characters that the writers did an amazing job presenting us with,” Amelia responded.

“Honestly,” I agreed, “the ease of the dialogue, the situations presented, even small comments from the director all make it amazingly easy for us as actors to step into Damon and Blair’s shoes and get carried away. They feel real.”

He signaled for us to close.

“I think the reason we all love Damon and Blair is because we relate to them. After all, there is a sinner in all of us,” she said, winking at the camera.

“Brilliant, thank you both.” He gave us a thumbs up, and Austin appeared beside me, a smug look on his face.

“What?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I was just listening, and I think that’s the most you’ve spoken in one of those interviews ever. You looked comfortable, too. It’s like a brand-new you.”

“Don’t you have calls to be making?” I tried to ignore his comment, though I did feel different.

“I made them all. The bad news is that you don’t have another day off until next year, but the good news is that your face is going to be everywhere.”

“Your eyes are becoming dollar signs again,” I said, snapping my fingers in front of him.

“Let me enjoy this. Three months ago, I was wondering how I was going to live.”

“I’m going to get back to work now,” I said with a laugh, glancing over to see Amelia laughing at something one of the crew members said.

You would never be able to tell that before Sinners Like Us, we were on the brink of disaster both emotionally and career-wise.

Moving to my position at the head of the craps table, I fixed the cuffs at the ends of my sleeves when Amelia joined me. She reached up to adjust my tie, neither of us speaking to each other. The extras stood around us.

“Remember, this is right before the climax. You all are completely at ease. Since we are redoing this scene, I’m sure we can capture it in one take,” Director Zane instructed not only us, but the extras as well, then took a seat behind the camera. He then raised his hand as if he were a conductor in front of his orchestra.

“And…action.”

“For luck,” I said, lifting the dice in my hand to Blair’s lips.

She rolled her eyes at me but leaned in, her breasts pushing up against my chest. But instead of blowing on them, she kissed my hand.”

“The moment you need luck, it disappears. So I’ll just bet on you,” she replied.

“Only with you is that a safe bet.” I never looked away from her and threw the dice down the table without bothering to watch.

“Twelve craps twelve come away triple!” the stickman exclaimed, the group around us shouting out in amazement at the pair of double sixes.

“What did I say?” Blair grinned as the stickman pushed the chips to us.

But before I could get a word in, the staff nearest the doors screamed, “RUN!”

But it was too late. I felt it, like a sonic wave of fire. The explosion threw me off my feet and backward.

My chest burned.

Blood—mine? I wasn’t sure—was on my face, mixed in with the ash.

I tried to stand, but my body screamed in agony.

Each time I tried to open my eyes, the world spun, and all I could see were blurs of red, orange, and black.

My eardrums were ringing—no, scratching—in my ears, and in between the pain was screaming ... screaming from all over.

“Help!”

“Someone please!”

“My leg!”

“Help!”

“AHH!!!”

“Oh God! Oh God!”

Rolling onto my side, I once again tried to open my eyes, again rubbing my ears. As I did, my body ground onto broke glass, tiles, and casino chips. When I finally could see, it felt as if I were staring into hell. The bodies of the guests were piled on each other in a bloody, ash-covered mess. The fire spread over the top of them, over everything in sight. As I pushed myself off the ground, my heart stopped when I realized no one was beside me.