Chapter 17
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
CHRISTINE
“Cut! Yes! Just… yes!”
Like a camera pulling back into a wide shot, the rest of the set suddenly floods my awareness: Lana barking orders; the hushed tones of Bella and Andy, just loud enough to identify their voices but not enough to hear what they’re saying; the click of pens and rustle of papers; the quiet whirring of the camera sliding back into position.
Fragments reach my overly sharp ears.
“…wasn’t in the script…” “…wait, do you think they’re…” “…never seen anything like that…”
I ease off of Mylo and stand, then reach a hand down. His eyes are unfocused, as if he’s in a daze, but he takes my hand and lets me pull him to his feet.
“Are you okay, Mylo?”
He turns toward my voice, meeting my gaze, but doesn’t answer.
Well, at least he’s not mad at me. Yet.
I wave over a PA standing ready with a water bottle, crack it open, and hand it to Mylo.
Leaning over him, I say quietly, “Why don’t you take a walk?”
I tilt my head at the surrounding forest, which shimmers with golden midday light.
Mylo blinks and seems to see it for the first time. “Yeah, that’s… that’s a good idea.”
He shakes his head to clear it and rolls his shoulders, winces, glances back at me, then heads out into the forest.
Bella splits off from the group to go check on him.
My chest tightens, muscles coiling with readiness, a jealous growl rumbling deep in my chest. The sudden flash of violent craving startles me, and I pry my eyes away from Bella.
Lana flurries over, claiming my attention.
“Christine, Christine, Christine! The chemistry! You were so right about skipping the second take this morning, because this… this. Yes! The entire script needs an overhaul. I thought this story was about rivalry, but no! No, this whole time it’s been forbidden love.
” Lana’s eyes sparkle with creative energy, gears spinning in her mind.
Normally, hitting this kind of energy with a director is my favorite part of making a film.
But right now, I’m stuck wondering how much Mylo’s going to hate me for this. Because if he’s going to hate me isn’t even a question.
All I can say is, “I’m glad it’s resonating with your vision.”
Lana’s grin broadens. “It’s creating my vision! The story we had before was good; it was good. But this… this is going to be great. We need to workshop the script. Starting five minutes ago. Dennis is setting up chairs on the beach; the weather is perfect for inspiration. Come, come.”
I take a step after Lana, then look back over my shoulder. I follow the light scent of citrus to the dissipating cloud of Mylo’s vape. He stands a few yards into the trees, talking quietly with Bella.
Lana’s hand lands on my arm.
“We need you, Christine. Be confident. Your instincts are incredible.”
My instincts are screaming at me to run after Mylo.
All I can do is nod and let Lana pull me toward the beach.