Chapter Four Mia #2
Mia bit her lip. She had to admit that Noah had a point. After all, she was one of the latter. Christmas was a big deal in her family, and she’d bought her plane ticket back home for the last day
of finals—a full week before Christmas Eve—before she’d even left for Move-In Day. Her heart squeezed just thinking about
the possibility that she might not get to go home for winter break this year.
“Also,” Noah continued, “you might have a better chance of getting greenlit by the SPC during break.”
“And why is that?”
“Fall is the hardest time of year to get a show made through the school, since everyone comes back from summer vacation with tons of new ideas,” he explained with another sip of his drink.
“And a lot of students rent the same equipment for class projects, so there’s always a shortage of cameras.
Spring is hard too, but it’s still easier than fall. Winter, though . . .”
“No one’s using school property,” Mia finished with a sigh. Another point for Noah and his logic.
Hoping Damien, another senior, would disagree with Noah, Mia sent him a text. But before she could even put her phone down,
it buzzed in her hand. Damien was always a quick responder, but this was fast, even for him.
That’s very true. I agree with Noah.
Mia wanted to growl in frustration. She would have too, if she and Noah were back in class and not out in public. She’d already
caused a scene in Ground Smoothie. The last thing she wanted to do was become the center of attention again.
“Okay, fine,” she said. “If we can find enough people to commit to the show during winter break, we can do it then. What else?”
Mia’s heart was beating fast. This meetup was supposed to be her pitching the show to Noah. But he’d somehow completely derailed everything in one fell swoop.
Noah blinked at her. His eyes met hers briefly before darting away. This was the first time she’d ever seen Noah look so nervous
around her.
Anxiety had already been building up inside Mia’s chest, but now it rushed in. It felt like the world was spinning.
“What is it?” Mia’s voice came out sharper than she intended it to be.
Noah slowly took a sip of his coffee. “You need to rebrand the entire show, maybe even tear it apart and rework it from the
ground up.”
“What?”
Mia stood up, and then immediately sat back down again when the people around them glanced her way. So much for not being
the center of attention.
“Think about it,” Noah said. “There has to be a reason—maybe multiple—why not enough students signed up to be on your show,
why you even need me to help out in the first place. I saw the email blast for it, and while the idea seemed interesting, it was also confusing.
A cross between a reality TV show and a documentary? What even is that?”
“Like Terrace House,” Mia explained, using the comparison that she and her friends had thought of during one of their meetings. “You watch four
people go about their lives and hopefully confess to their crushes. But since it’s unscripted, the outcome is unknown, so
it’s more like a documentary where you observe what happens.”
“Ah. See, that’d be nice for an art film for older people,” Noah replied, so matter-of-factly that Mia wasn’t even offended.
“Or maybe even an audience in another country. Take it from someone whose fanbase is mostly American college students. They
love drama. All my flashy videos with fast music and lots of movement do well. The quieter slice-of-life ones? Not so much. You need to grab a viewer’s attention. Maybe even make it into a straight-up dating show with challenges and contrived scenarios like Love Island instead.”
Mia’s head spun. “You want to make my show Love Island for college students?”
Mia didn’t even watch Love Island, or any reality TV shows at that. The only exposure she’d had was through Jeannette and Cara, who showed her clips of the UK
Love Island and gave play-by-plays of all the drama, badly executed British accents and all.
“Not exactly.” Noah sat back in his beanbag chair. “For one, it’ll be winter. Which can get cold in LA. Maybe we could rent out one of those luxury cabins in Big Bear. Oh! And since it’ll be cuffing season, we
could call it The Cuffing Game!”
Even in all his many different types of videos, Mia had never seen Noah like this. His breathing was uneven. His eyes wide
in a way that reminded Mia of her friends’ during their late-night production meetings at Carlisle, Marlon’s twenty-four-hour
library. The passion in his voice. His slightly flushed face.
Noah, she realized, was excited about her show. Or his version of it, at least. And unfortunately, seeing him like this was having an effect on her. It was intoxicating, and her skin buzzed. Mia was in deep trouble.
She coughed. “This is a lot. You’re asking us to make so many changes. I’m going to have to check in with everyone and see
what they think.”
“Sure, of course.”
Technically, she could text the group chat right then and there. But Mia’s hands were shaking too hard to write up a proper
message. She balled them into fists and looked up to see that the lavender-haired girl had finished performing. A skinny blond
boy was now screaming into the mic, singing—or trying to sing—a punk rock song that Mia didn’t recognize.
Mia felt like screaming too.
“Also, the cabin in Big Bear,” she managed to say. “How do you expect us to be able to afford that? The SPC will only help
us with equipment and permits.”
He shrugged. “We can crowdfund on social media. I can take care of that part, don’t worry.”
He was just so confident, making everything sound easy. Out of sheer pettiness, Mia hoped her friends would say no, or at
least give him a lot of trouble. That’d show him.
“Thanks for your time.” She stretched out her hand in her best attempt to remain professional. “We’ll be in touch.”
Noah glanced down at her hand but made no move to shake it.
Of course he wouldn’t, Mia thought bitterly, reminded of his extreme reaction to the last time they touched.
She let her hand drop.
Noah gave her a tight grin. “Looking forward to it.”
Mia tossed out her milkshake and made her quick escape.