Chapter 6
“A major smoking gun in this case comes right from the hand of Brigadier General Roger Ramey. In a photo from July 8, 1947, General Ramey is seen standing over a piece of the Roswell debris. In his hand is a sheet of paper that seems inconspicuous at first, but using modern technology, internet sleuths have been able to enhance the document in his hands, and what they’ve found could reveal out of this world information about what really happened at Roswell.”
After returning from lunch, Hayden is better in front of the camera, but still doesn’t jump off the screen. We’ll be integrating infographics and recording ADR over some of the clips we plan to use, but something about Hayden running through the info alone leaves a lot to be desired.
At least he looked up from his script this time. At least we caught a few smiles.
The door opens. Chloe is one of the last people I want to see right now. Chloe will judge and evaluate our progress based off raw footage, and it could make or break the entire show.
Fuck.
Fuckity fuck.
“How’s it going?” she whispers.
“Good!” I chirp, my voice cracking.
Nora marks a new take, and Hayden resumes explaining the findings of the Ramey Memo. I study Chloe’s face the entire time, and I can’t tell if she’s bored or just absorbing it all.
“He is cute,” she says. “But is the whole show going to be him telling us about aliens?”
“No. Of course not. We’re going to edit it and include other sources and footage.”
“Hmm…”
Hayden looks up, notices another person in the room, and begins to stumble over his words. He pauses, clearing his throat, but it’s like he’s forgotten everything he’s ever known about aliens. Chloe’s checked her phone four times in the last minute, so I know she’s getting bored. I need to salvage this. Somehow.
What gets Hayden going and pulls him out of his shell? Then it hits me:
“So, this guy is just waving classified info about aliens out in the open?”
Hayden’s gaze shoots up to me. His brows furrow behind his dark hair. I can’t tell if he’s more shocked by what I’ve said or that I’ve interrupted his take.
I know all of this.
He knows I know this.
But that doesn’t matter. I need to get him fired up.
“What?”
I step closer, but make sure I’m still out of frame. Nora scratches her head, but motions for Jamie to keep rolling.
“This guy who is dealing with potentially classified information about aliens just has this written on a piece of paper for everyone to see?”
“Well, no. Everyone he was with was also in the know. They were looking at a crashed UFO, for god’s sakes. I feel like the ship sailed on keeping the circle that small. And it wasn’t being waved around. Look at him.” Hayden flags me over, pulling up the picture of Roger Ramey on the laptop staged on the desk. I’ve seen the picture a hundred times now as we rehearsed the script. The camera lights glare in my eyes. I’m not used to being on this side of the lens. “He’s squatting and surveying the UFO—”
“Weather balloon,” I correct.
“UFO.”
“Whatever.”
“What do you mean, ‘whatever’? If someone can decode this, it’d mean we’d know if this was actually a flying saucer and—”
“It looks like a sad kite.”
“You know, before you interrupted me, I was going to say that we’d also know if there were little alien bodies inside the flying saucer.”
Hayden’s voice pitches down, and he’s talking so quickly now that his Boston accent slips out. Across the studio, Chloe’s smiling. Good. This is good. I need to poke the Bigfoot until it drags me into its den and eats me alive.
“If there were little alien bodies, what did the US government do with them?”
“Well.” Hayden slips a pencil behind his ear. Then the glasses come off. Bingo. “According to some reports, they ran autopsies on them. This mortician came out like forty years later and alleged that he was getting calls from the air base, asking about little coffins.”
“That’s nice. The US was going to give them little alien funerals. But how awkward would it be if they…like…didn’t decompose?”
“Are you insinuating that aliens could be real if you’re wondering how they decompose?” Manic energy surges in his eyes.
“Absolutely not.”
His fists thump on the table. “Goddammit.”
“But I guess it wouldn’t matter if they put them in caskets and buried them. Like ‘well, let’s hope nobody exhumes that .’?”
Hayden coyly covers his mouth with his hand, continuing to play it serious as a smile spreads across his face.
“You’re terrible.”
“Could you imagine digging it up and being like, ‘holy shit, that is the world’s ugliest kid’?”
“?‘Oh man, this one never grew out of their newborn alien phase,’?” he laughs. He rests his head on the desk, and my laughing fit prolongs his. After a moment, he takes a deep breath and sits up. “Okay, I’m fine. Any other questions?”
“Not at the moment. Thank you. Proceed.”
Hayden makes it through the rest of his script, keeping his focus mostly on me and veering away from the script more often than before. It’s natural and fun to watch. He looks happy doing it. I only butt in when he relies too heavily on his script or stumbles over his words.
The sun has gone down by the time we wrap, but before we can head out, Chloe calls both Hayden and me into her office. I eye Hayden as he walks through the Skroll offices, silently questioning the conference rooms named for memes and gawking at the internal recording studios. We both take a seat on the toadstool chairs and wait for Chloe to shut the door.
“That was an interesting shoot today, you two.”
Hayden swallows and remains silent.
“Yeah?” I ask. I can do the driving in this conversation.
“Yeah. I don’t know how much of your footage you’ll end up using, but it was an intriguing look at your process.”
“Were there any parts that stood out to you?”
“Yes, actually.”
“Cool,” I say, digging out my notebook. “What parts?”
“The two of you together —”
“Well, that’s going to get cut,” I butt in.
“I don’t think it should…”
I look to Hayden, but he’s a challenging book to read now. He stares at his nails, picking at the cuticles farther. He rocks back and forth on the mushroom stool, waiting for someone else to say something. I hope he’ll butt in and assure Chloe this is his show and he will find a way to succeed at it on his own. But he doesn’t…
“What…what do you mean?” I ask. “We went completely off-script, and I’m not supposed to be on the show, just producing it.” I receive another high heart rate notification on my watch. Goddammit. “ The Out There is Hayden’s show. I was trying to make him feel less nervous.”
“Did it work?” Chloe asks Hayden. He blinks a few times.
“Um…yeah,” he concedes. “It did. I felt a lot more comfortable when Hallie was there with me.”
Chloe’s eyebrow quirks. “Uh-huh.”
“This was not part of the pitch,” I continue. “The format was supposed to be Hayden hosting the show and controlling the content, not talking to someone off-screen the whole time, making bad jokes.”
“Who says you have to be off-screen?”
My throat dries up like Death Valley. I’m suddenly so aware of every sound and sensation in the office. A puff of Chloe’s cactus humidifier, her email dinging several times, Hayden sliding his glasses off and rubbing his eyes.
“You’re suggesting I…co-host?”
“I am.”
“Chloe, I’m not a host. You know that. I have always been the one behind the camera, calling the shots. I’m not the personality. I…don’t…stand out.”
At this, Hayden’s head rises, brows knit together, lips pinched in a straight line. “You have blue hair,” he says.
“That’s not enough. That doesn’t make me interesting or funny.” Words from worse nights and worse people pop into my head. I don’t stand out. I’m not funny. I’m hard to work with. It zaps any inspiration or confidence down to nothing. No one else wants me on their show. Why would Hayden? Am I even brave enough to step in front of the camera like this?
“Hayden, what do you think? Do you think the show would be better if Hallie was your co-host?”
I know the answer already. He didn’t bust his ass for years to build a platform and fan base to hand half of his show over to some girl he met a week ago. Why would he want to give up the spotlight if he doesn’t have to?
Why would he give it up for someone who doesn’t believe in what’s out there?
“I do,” he finally says. “I’m stiff as a board up there alone. At least it’d give me someone to talk to. Hallie is smart and funny, and even though she doesn’t believe in any of this stuff, the show had a hell of a lot more life when she was bantering with me.”
Holy shit.
“I…” I can stammer nothing else.
Our eyes meet and heat rises in my chest. Instantly, I know he’s telling the truth. He genuinely means it. He wants me as his co-host.
He thinks something I bring to it makes the show better. I think of the hundreds of episodes he’s created entirely on his own and the rabid fans who hound his social media. He slept on if he wanted to even adapt the show but isn’t hesitating to bring me on board.
“If she’s open to it, I’d like Hallie to co-host the show with me. I need the help.” Hayden’s voice is solid with conviction as he proposes this to Chloe. “She has great ideas, and her personality is so bright and likable. She’s a hell of a lot funnier than I am.”
Bright .
Something that stands out.
Chloe beams. Hayden’s gaze is as compelling as all his theories. Behind it, I can tell he doesn’t want to do this alone. He knows The Out There better than anyone, and he seems to know in this moment what’ll make it better.
I never expected it to be me.
“If she’s not okay with that, we’ll find a way to make it work as it was,” Hayden finishes. “But I think the show would be far better if Hallie and I hosted it together.”
“Of course,” I finally say. I spit it out before I can talk myself out of it or let the fear of being seen convince me otherwise. “I’d love to be your co-host.”
He cracks a relieved smile, and tension rolls out of his shoulders. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
Chloe claps her hands together in victory. “Excellent! With that settled, as much as I like the Roswell idea, I’d prefer one of those on-location videos you pitched. Let’s get the two of you out there and doing stuff. I’ll buy your pilot an extra couple of days and a small budget for an on-location shoot. How does that sound?”
“Sure,” I agree. “If we’re doing an on-location video, where should we start?”
I turn to Hayden, who is already reaching into his pocket for a piece of paper. He waves it between us. “I’ve got us covered,” he says.