Hot Set (Art of Love #2)

17. Alex

Chapter seventeen

Alex

T he set was always bustling and so loud that it would’ve put the Atlanta Airport to shame and entering into it was an indescribable feeling that went beyond any singular emotion or description. It was warm and bright and loud. Brilliant. If creativity could be defined in any space or moment, it would’ve been “days on set”. It felt a lot like a home , and when I thought of leaving all of this, my stomach twisted. It felt like I was leaving something wonderful unfinished, as if I were abandoning everyone by joining the FBI. What would it be like to go to work each morning and not see Bioncia, Seth, or Celeste? Or Brandon? The thought of Brandon stirred a maelstrom of feelings inside me. I wouldn’t see him again after this. Maybe ever.

And it shouldn’t hurt. It didn’t hurt. Or so I told myself. I was so bad at lying.

Sure, I’d still probably come back to Bluehaven to visit my mom. It wasn’t like I was marching off to a decade-long expedition to chart icebergs in Antarctica. But I couldn’t build a relationship with that. It would probably be a while anyway. If I joined the FBI, I’d be busy; very busy.

But for a fleeting moment, I dared consider what would happen if I didn’t go. If I just stayed here and rode this out for as long as I could. I went to my usual place and imagined coming back here for all the weeks to come. Bioncia sat on her massive make-up case with her arms crossed. Her eyes were narrowed; squinting. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

She nodded. I followed the direction of the gesture to see what had caused her such irritation.

My eyes landed on Brandon, standing close to his father. We were too far away to make out what they were saying, but from Brandon’s downward look and Jonathan’s angry gestures, I doubted it was a pleasant conversation.

“He gave us a deadline,” Bioncia said, “And I think we just passed it.”

“So, what is he going to do?” I asked. “I mean, it’s not like any of us have ever worked on a movie set before. It’s got a learning curve, and we’ve had so many setbacks none of us had any control over or could’ve predicted.”

“I don’t think Brandon’s dad is the most reasonable person to talk to,” Bioncia said, “Particularly from what Brandon has said.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Seth muttered, joining us.

Seth glanced at me, his eyes seeming to linger on me. There was something strange about the expression, like he wanted desperately to tell me something, but he couldn’t figure out how to word it properly. I couldn’t imagine what it might be, unless he wanted to talk more about Brandon, but I thought we’d already buried that subject.

“I’ve met him,” I said, thinking back.

Admittedly, Brandon’s father hadn’t seemed like the nicest man around. I bit the inside of my cheek and wondered if one of us ought to go over and rescue Brandon from Jonathan’s anger. Not that I’d really figured out exactly how I could do that.

“I had the great honor of being here the last time Jonathan came,” Seth said, rolling his eyes.

Jonathan walked away. His manner betrayed nothing, but his smile was smug. Brandon glanced toward us and headed our way. With his slumped shoulders and lowered head, he looked like a kicked puppy. I felt a pang of sympathy twist in my chest. A deep sense of foreboding followed. Something was wrong here.

“How did it go?” Seth asked, shooting a withering glare at Jonathan as he left the building.

“Terrible,” Brandon said, seeming to deflate. “Beyond terrible.”

“It’ll be okay,” Bioncia said. “It’s always been okay in the past.”

“Not this time. We’re going to shut it down,” Brandon said, putting his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Surely, I’d heard him wrong. “Shut it down?” I echoed.

Brandon nodded once, the motion stiff and awkward. “We’re going to put everything on hold until further notice.”

“When is that happening?” I asked.

“Now,” Brandon muttered. “Today.”

But how could we possibly do that? Just tell everyone to pack up and go home? Just leave an unfinished movie? Surely, we had to finish it.

“But that…” Bioncia trailed off, sounding as baffled as I was. “We’re just going to quit filming and wait until…some undefined time in the future? Really? We’ve already put all this time and work into it, though!”

“I know,” Brandon said.

“You can’t let him do this,” Seth argued. “You can’t let him just make you quit.”

“That’s right,” I said. “There are so many people working on this. We can’t just stop now.”

Brandon shrugged. “I don’t know what else to do. My father gave us a deadline, and we didn’t meet it, so he’s pulling his funding. No more passion projects. He won’t even let me finish this one, and I tried to convince him. I tried hard.”

“But we have all this stuff,” Bioncia said, sweeping a hand toward the sets and costumes. “What are we going to do with it?”

“I don’t know,” Brandon admitted, “Return what we’ve rented and get rid of the rest. I guess.”

“So, this is it?” Seth asked. “Today?”

“I’m afraid so,” Brandon said. “Dad wants this done now. We don’t even have money to make payroll today. Everyone can go home, and I’ll worry about everything here.”

A couple cast members drifted closer. “So, we’re just…going home?” Celeste asked, putting her hands on her hips. “Calling it quits?”

“We don’t have a choice,” Brandon said.

Seth threw his arms up and stormed off, furious but silent. I watched him go, unsure what to make of that. I’d expected him to be louder. On the way out, he kicked a chair, clattering to the ground, but even that sound seemed muted. I looked around, as word that we were shutting down spread. There were varying expressions of dismay, surprise, and uncertainty.

Bioncia sat back on her make-up trunk. “That’s…just it?” she asked in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Brandon said, nodding slowly. “That’s it. We’re going to pack it up and…put this on hold. Indefinitely.”

“You can’t just end it today, like it’s some sort of spur of the moment thing,” I said. “After all the work everyone has put into it!”

“I don’t have much of a say in the matter,” Brandon replied. “I can’t ask people to work for free, and they shouldn’t anyway. But without funds, there’s no way of going forward.”

“But can’t you—I don’t know—do something? Not everyone can just—”

“Wouldn’t you do the same if you were facing financial ruin?” Brandon asked. “If you were about to lose everything? If we keep going, it’s not just the film that we’re going to lose. It’s me, too. My dad will cut me off, and then what?”

“Guys—” Bioncia began.

“You’ve just put everyone out of work!” I protested. “Without any notice at all! What about what they’re losing? People have bills to pay. They need dependable income! You can’t just drop this entire thing without notice. They need time to find other jobs!”

“There’s nothing I can do,” Brandon said, his voice shaking. “I don’t have the money to fund this, and if my father says we’re done, we’re done.”

How could Brandon just give up so easily? Surely, he realized not everyone was rich. Not everyone could just quit working and be fine. “But that’s not—”

“Look!” Brandon snapped. “I realize it’s a terrible thing to do, and I don’t like it either. But there’s nothing I can do about it. I can argue until I’m blue in the face, and it’s not going to change my father’s mind. I know. I’ve tried arguing with him again and again.”

“You’re telling me that, as creative as you are, you couldn’t find some solution?” I asked.

Surely, he could’ve bought some more time. Just a little more. A couple of weeks. That would’ve been long enough for people to at least begin looking for other jobs.

“You think I haven’t looked?” Brandon asked, narrowing his eyes. “Seriously, Alex? I get that this is a bad thing! I promise I do! But I don’t get much of a choice in the matter!”

“But there are loans, grants! Crowdfunding! For God’s sake, there has to be something .”

Brandon ran his hands through his hair and clenched his jaw. “I don’t know why you’re so worried anyway,” he cut in. “You have a job lined up with the FBI, don’t you? This doesn’t affect you at all.”

My face grew hot. Never in my life had I been filled with such indignation, such anger, at a fellow human being before. I wanted to scream and kick something, but the only thing in front of me was Brandon. And I couldn’t kick him. Well, I could. But he’s bigger than me.

“You’re right,” I said, forcing my voice even. “I have the FBI, so it doesn’t matter.”

I dug my nails into my palms. No, it didn’t affect me. But of course, I cared! It was impacting people I’d worked with, people I cared about. Couldn’t Brandon understand that? The sense of injustice rose inside me. Heat rushed to my face. Why couldn’t Brandon understand how terrible this was?

Brandon’s face remained inscrutable. Whether or not he was angry or distressed was impossible to tell, which made it all much worse.

“Well, then,” I said.

It seemed there was nothing else to say. I scratched at my palms.

“Alex—” Bioncia said.

“I’m going home,” I said.

And I walked past both of them, focusing only on the exit. Suddenly, this place felt hot and claustrophobic. Brandon was right, though. I had the FBI; my dream job. A burst of wind buffeted me as I opened the door. I practically trembled with anger, but beneath the anger, frustration and surprise bubbled up, like waves lashing against some shore.

There was something like heartbreak. Something dark and hard seemed to curl inside my chest. But what was it? All my thoughts had clustered together. After the set doors closed behind me, I stood still for a moment, trying to sort everything out.

An image played out in my head, of Brandon coming after me and apologizing. It was completely illogical, but I wanted him to know how hurt I was. He’d just dismissed my concerns. I had expected better of him. And maybe that would’ve been fine if it wasn’t competing with guilt. Maybe Brandon really had tried, and I’d been too harsh on him.

I walked to my car and slammed the door behind me. A low sigh tore from my throat, as I pressed my forehead against the steering wheel. Maybe this was for the best. Maybe the cosmic forces or God or something had aligned just right and shifted everything into a new light. I could join the FBI without having to worry about abandoning everyone working on the film.

I wouldn’t have to worry about my feelings for Brandon. Not when we’d just had this big argument. I sucked in a deep breath of air, but it didn’t seem to help. My chest still ached. I curled my fingers around the steering wheel and dredged up half-forgotten memories of meditation classes I’d taken back in my undergrad. Despite never telling Brandon how I felt about him, my feelings still seemed to have blown up in my face.

After my thoughts cleared a bit, I felt safe enough to pull away from the curve. I fixed my attention firmly on the road before me as I left the movie warehouse and Brandon behind, maybe forever. There was no point lingering in the past, wishing for a future that would never happen.