Chapter 11 #2
Someone helps me load the bags of groceries onto a wagon that will transport them to the kitchen set to film the next scene.
I walk around to watch the rest of the scene play out.
Even as short as this scene is, they have to retake it several times for different reasons.
First, Sally trips over her words, so they start again a few lines back.
Then Chandra misses a cue and ends up in Crispin’s way when he gets up to leave.
Then Hank doesn’t like something, so he changes the set direction and has them film again.
It’s tedious, but also really interesting to watch.
Standing back here, where I can see the actors as well as Hank’s monitor, is rather enlightening.
I immediately spot how not right that scene looked under the old direction.
When they refilm with the new direction, it looks so much more natural, but Hank shakes his head and changes direction again, and they refilm a third time.
This time, my mouth drops open when the scene finishes.
“That was excellent,” I say aloud after Hank calls cut.
He turns with a wry smile. “I’m glad you approve.”
“No, I just mean…well, I’ve never seen it play out like that before. I would have thought the second take was good enough. But you knew better.”
“That’s why they pay me the big bucks.”
I laugh and put up my hands. “Sorry. Shutting up now.”
Hank grins. “No, I appreciate you saying so. Sometimes I wonder if I know what I’m doing. It helps to hear someone else think I might.”
It makes me feel good to hear he isn’t always sure of himself. He’s a well-respected director with awards and stuff. He definitely knows what he’s doing, but he doesn’t take that for granted. Maybe my insecurities aren’t all that unusual.
When they finish shooting the scene, we’re given a twenty-minute break to move over to the new set. I turn to run and grab a water from the cafeteria. It’s a bit out of the way, but if I hurry, I can make it.
“Arabelle, hold up.”
A shiver runs through me at the sound of Crispin’s voice.
Though I want to disappear into the ground and hide my glowing cheeks from him, I force myself to turn and smile.
“As much as I like how you say my name, you can just call me Ari. No sense going to all the trouble to sound out the extra syllables.”
He cocks his head, his eyes looking up to the left before snapping back to me. “It’s literally just one extra syllable.”
My mouth drops open as I sound out my full name in my head, raising a finger for each of the three syllables. Then I think, Ar-ee. “Oh, I guess it is.” Still blushing then.
“How do I say your name different?” His expression is equal parts curious and dubious.
I shrug. “There is something about the vowels. I think yours are rounder than normal. That and you actually stop after the “ls” instead of tripping over a non-existent “a” or making it sound like there are three or four “ls” because you really want another sound at the end.”
“I like your name. I thoroughly appreciate an unusual name.”
I chuckle. “I guess you would.” I bite my lip. “Um, do you mind if we speed walk over to the cafeteria while we talk? I need water.”
“My trailer’s closer, let’s grab one from there.”
Jeez Louise. Now I’m blushing again. It isn’t like he asked me to go make out with him in his trailer. “Um. Okay. Thanks.”
We exit the building together, and I feel incredibly awkward walking next to him, looking like I do. I shouldn’t care what people think, but I can’t help it. He’s twenty-two years old, and I look like a fledgling teenager.
“So, yesterday…” he says.
But that’s all he says, so I glance at him and glance away. He looks as awkward as I feel. “Yesterday.” I nod.
“That was surprising.”
I grimace. What if he isn’t talking about the same thing I’m thinking about? “The extra photoshoot, you mean?”
“I’ve worked with Leo before. Several times. He’s never done that.”
“Leo?”
“The photographer.”
“Oh.”
“This is me here.” He points to a trailer door, so I stop.
He stares at me for a beat and then climbs the three steps. Then opens the door and steps back to motion me inside.
“Oh! I was just going to wait out here.”
He cocks his head. “You can come in.”
“Um. Okay.” I paste a smile on my face to hide my nerves while I climb the stairs and step past him into his trailer.
Inside, it looks just like Chandra and Sally’s trailer, except there is only one makeup chair in front of the wall of mirrors.
I hear the door close behind me, and some sort of fight or flight instinct is triggered inside me.
Except I just want to run. Instead, I silently scold myself that he isn’t going to attack me and tell myself to calm down.
“Here you go.” He hands me a cold bottle of water straight from his mini-fridge and twists one open for himself.
“Thanks.” I make a production of twisting the cap free and pouring some into my mouth. He squints at me when he sees me literally pouring it into my gaping maw. I swallow. “I don’t want to ruin my makeup.”
He smiles. “Remi would totally understand. Touch up is part of her job.”
I sigh. “Good, because I keep choking myself by pouring it like that.”
He’s still smiling, but his eyes narrow and he shakes his head. “You are nothing like I thought.”
“What do you mean?”
“You walk around with that dark cloud over you. I thought you were goth or something.”
His words cut straight to my heart, and I feel myself fold inward. I spin the cap back onto my bottle and stomp to the door. “Not goth. Just in mourning.”
I slam through the door and ignore him as he calls my name.