Chapter 25 Miles
MILES
Me: I miss your eyes…
Trying to speak from the heart without sounding too cheesy, I type some more words. I reread my text to Skye before hitting send. I don’t have any service to speak of out here, so there’s no hurry anyway. It probably won’t go through till we’re wrapped for the day and back at the cabins.
We’re out in the middle of nowhere, a huge snowcapped mountain with a waterfall rushing down it in the distance.
There’s a charming path of boulders dotted through a stream and then a pebble path beyond through long golden grass leading all the way to the falls.
It’s so beautiful; it looks like it's been painted.
I read the text again. Is it too sappy? I’m not a writer, but I thought she might appreciate it if I were a little poetic.
A sonnet in text form. I don’t know, though.
I keep sending these long, drawn-out texts, pouring my heart out, and she sends one or two words back hours and hours later.
Or sometimes even a GIF. I don’t expect her to sit around miserable and missing me, but a little pining might be nice.
“Ooh. Who are you texting?”
Elsie sits in the director's chair next to me. I pocket my phone and smile. “No one.”
“Sure. Tell her I say hello.” Elsie smiles. “You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
My big fight scene with Ty is today. The fight coordinator has run through all the moves with both of us several times.
Ty has a monologue they’re going to shoot beforehand. They’re setting that up now.
Elsie smiles at me. “Are you excited that you get to knock Ty out? I wrote that in especially for you. You’re welcome, by the way.”
I laugh. Honestly, I haven’t thought about it much. I’ve been too busy missing Skye and trying to figure out what my passion is. Is it still acting? If someone had asked me a couple of months ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated to say yes. But now, I’m not so sure.
Ty walks out of the costume tent. “I’m here! Let the fun begin.”
The light guys laugh. A couple beats after Ty comes out, Minnie follows, buttoning up her shirt with a quick hand. I look away. It is not my business. Grown adults.
Ty and Natalie are talking low, their heads almost touching.
A car drives up as close as the vehicles can get to where we are.
Out steps a woman with a button nose, long blonde hair, and even longer legs.
She is wearing black leggings and a Prada puffer jacket.
She walks over confidently to where we all are.
For a moment, Ty’s eyes look scared, but he recovers quickly. “Charlotte!”
She waves.
Ty runs, picks her up, swings her around, and then dips her before planting a sloppy kiss on her mouth.
My eyes find Minnie. She’s frozen, holding two coffees, her lips in a tight set line. She starts to move as Ty and Charlotte keep kissing, PDA be damned. Minnie thrusts the coffee at Elsie.
“Oh, Minnie,” Elsie whispers.
Minnie shakes her head, tears forming in the corner of her eyes. She turns and heads back to the craft services tent.
Ty leads Charlotte over to the empty director’s chair right next to me.
“Hey, Elsie. Miles. I’d like you to meet my girlfriend—”
Charlotte waves her long fingers, heavy with a massive diamond ring, in our direction. “Fiancée.”
Ty grins, but it’s tight. Not his usual easy-going, I’m just a laid-back guy smile. “Right, fiancée, Charlotte. Char, this is Miles and our indispensable screenwriter, Elsie.”
Fiancée? Ty has been leading Minnie on this whole time when he is engaged? The pain of this hits me hard and swift, like a splinter that slides right under a thumbnail. Too hard for it to reasonably be only about Minnie. Even I can see that.
I clench my jaw to keep from saying anything I don’t mean to.
“It is so nice to meet you both,” Charlotte says with a light southern twang. She takes the empty seat right next to me, and without thinking, I shift my body slightly away. Ty plants a light kiss on her cheek and heads back to his mark.
Charlotte stretches out, resting both elbows on the armrests and making it impossible for me to take any more space unless I physically move my chair away.
“Miles Casey.” She shakes her head. “I’m a huge fan. I loved you in The Last Candle.”
Of course, she loved The Last Candle. It was an indie film I made in my late teens, and it made the small awards circuit. There was a buzz of Oscar talk, but no nominations. I say, “Thanks.”
“I mean it. That performance moved me so much. It literally changed me as a person. It’s why I got into acting.”
“Oh, are you an actor?”
“I’m a model. I just got into acting a couple of months ago. Elsie, you should write me a great role like the female lead in Swipe or like Ava’s in this movie or something and put me on the map.”
Elsie giggles uncomfortably, still holding the two coffees Minnie handed her before she ran off. Elsie thrusts one at me. Charlotte perks up. “Ooh, coffee. I’d love one. It’s freezing out here.”
Minnie walks by with a steaming cup, beelining it to Natalie.
One of these coffees had probably been for her in the first place.
She’s not even looking in our direction, her eyes solely focused ahead, her mouth set in a grim line, her cheeks splotchy like she’s been crying.
On her way back from handing off the cup, Charlotte grabs her arm.
“Excuse me… Do you think you could get me one of those coffees?”
Minnie nods, looking down at the ground the whole time.
“And a blanket if it’s not too much trouble?” Charlotte looks toward us. “Y’all got blankets out here for while you’re waiting or watching, I guess?”
Elsie shakes her head like she’s watching a car crash. It seems I’m not the only one who knew about Minnie and Ty. “I…uh…I’m not sure.”
Minnie says in a small voice, barely above a whisper, “I’ll see what I can find.”
“Oh, honey,” Charlotte says, patting Minnie’s arm. “You gotta learn to speak up if you ever want to be heard. Women gotta speak twice as loud. You know what I’m saying? Otherwise, people’ll just walk all over you.”
Minnie makes eye contact with Charlotte now, and if looks could set someone on fire, that one would for sure. She nods and leaves.
“Sweet kid.” Charlotte smiles. She seems pleased with herself for having imparted some wisdom to this young girl in the industry. I’m sure she means well. That’s when it dawns on me that Minnie is not the only one betrayed here.
Ty’s monologue is on the sixth take when I head to get for more coffee. I’m about to enter when I hear a soft sniffle coming from behind the tent. I follow the noise and find Minnie, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, tears rolling down her face.
She quickly wipes them away when she sees me. “You were right about him.”
“Minnie.” I hold out my arms to hug her, but she shakes her head. “I didn’t want to be right. I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
“No.” She stands a little straighter. “I’m fine, really. I’m going to get that horrible woman a blanket, even if I have to knit it myself.”
I put a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll find her something. Why don’t you go take a break? Maybe you could head back to the cabins for the day? I can let Natalie know you weren’t feeling well.”
“Really? You think it would be okay?”
I nod and find another member of the crew, ask him to drive Minnie back to the cabins, and he agrees.
While I’m at it, I also ask him to grab a blanket, even though I shouldn’t care if Charlotte freezes.
Although she didn’t do anything wrong. This whole mess is Ty’s fault.
He hasn’t changed at all—still using people, destroying everything in his path.
Ty’s monologue calls for thirteen takes.
Natalie clearly isn’t the superstitious type.
I’ve known some directors who would do one more take just to not end on thirteen.
But not her. I hate to admit it, but that last take was really something special.
He might get a supporting actor nod out of this whole thing.
The afternoon is a mix of gray and gold, the clouds dark, the opening in between shining brighter as if to make up for it. We don’t have much daylight left today. Around here, the sun sets before four p.m. these days. And I thought the days were short during winter in Brooklyn.
The PA is back with a blanket for Charlotte. “Oh, thanks, hon. You know, I never did get a coffee.”
After all this time, why hasn’t she just gone and gotten her own damn coffee? No one else is being waited on hand and foot. How can Ty choose this self-absorbed princess over Minnie?
I find my mark for the fight scene, still seething about how careless Ty is with people. Natalie’s words from the beginning of the production echo in my head: Make it work for you.
Ty gets to his mark after a quick costume adjustment. He gives me a wink—an honest-to-God wink. “Ready for this, old man?”
Old man? He’s only like a year younger than me. Rage is bubbling its way up to my brain. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
The fight is supposed to start with me punching Ty in the face—fake, of course.
Then he punches me in the stomach. We grapple, wrestle on the ground, and roll into the water.
There is a moment where my character debates holding his brother under, but he can’t do it.
He lets up, and then Ty is sucked out into the water by a massive dark mass, waves of water in their wake.
I go after him and pull him back to shore.
This will be the last scene of the day since we’ll be freezing, and exhausted afterward.
I suggest we film it in two sections: the wet part and the dry part, but Natalie wants it all as one take.
From the very first call of action, it all goes wrong.
I punch the air near Ty’s face, but it’s too far away to look realistic.
We reset after a costume change into dry clothes.
Ty gets closer for the next take. I pull my arm back and bring it forward, focusing on channeling my anger at Ty into my expression.
My foot slips a little, bringing me even closer, and my fist connects with Ty’s cheek in a sickening and, if I’m being totally honest, satisfying smack.
Ty immediately falls to the ground, clutching his face, and any satisfaction I momentarily felt dissipates in the reality of the situation.
Oh shit.
I hit Ty in the face.
I leap toward him. “Are you okay?”
Ty backs away, scooching on the ground like I might hit him again. “Get the fuck away from me.”
The medics swarm around Ty like ants to a fallen crumb.
“You did that on purpose.”
Natalie is over by us now. “Are you okay?”
Charlotte joins the group. She kneels next to Ty, practically shoving one of the medics out of the way. “Oh, baby. Your face.”
Ty ignores her, stands, and speaks directly to Natalie. “First he throws coffee at me…” I try to protest, but Ty is too loud. “Now he hit me on purpose. He’s had a grudge against me this whole time. I can’t work with him.”
Natalie takes a quick breath. “Ty, it looked like an honest accident.”
“It was an accident, I swear.” My limbs feel heavy. I know it was an accident, but even I can admit it doesn’t seem like it.
“He needs to be replaced.” Ty points his finger at me. “And he’s been sleeping with the host’s daughter. I’ve seen them sneaking around.”
My stomach drops to my toes like I’m in a free fall. Everything slows down. Everyone looks at me, even the medics. Natalie’s eyes are like a wounded animal, then, in an instant, go ice hard.
I shake my head, but is there really any use in denying it? It’s not like I’ve broken any contract. But I did break a promise, and it’s written all over Natalie’s face what that means.
Ty holds the ice from the medics to his cheek. “Either he goes, or I go.”
We wrap for the day and all head back. I feel awful, so instead of heading straight for my cabin, I walk to the little pub nearby. After buying the best bottle of Scotch they have, I bring it to Ty’s cabin and knock, but there is no answer. Searching my pockets, I find a pen and a scrap of paper.
Didn’t mean to hit you. It was an accident, I swear. Hope this helps.
Leaving the note and the whiskey on the porch, I head back to the pub.
I drown my sorrows in a whiskey, and then another, and another.
It’s not like this is the only time anyone has ever accidentally gotten hurt on set.
On The Princess Bride set, Mandy Patinkin bruised a rib holding in his laughter during the Miracle Max scene.
It’s not like he threatened to quit if Billy Crystal wasn’t fired.
Harrison Ford hit Ryan Gosling on Blade Runner, and they all laughed about it on The Graham Norton Show.
Me hitting Ty was a simple accident, wasn’t it?
My text to Skye says delivered, but it doesn’t show that it was read.
She’s probably busy writing or biking—well, maybe not in the dark.
She could be meeting with her writing group.
No, that would’ve been yesterday. Honestly, it doesn’t matter what she’s doing.
In a couple weeks, maybe sooner now, I’ll never know what she’s doing. She’ll be here, and I’ll be back in LA.
I order one more whiskey and swish this thought around like the amber liquid in the glass.
Skye was completely upfront about just wanting something casual—a fling.
I can’t pout, because that’s exactly what we ended up with.
Of course she doesn’t want to be with me; I’ve been like a love-sick puppy, dropping everything to spend more time with her and not focusing enough on the film or my career. What little of one I have left.
I stumble back to my cabin, a candle burning in the window. That wasn’t very safe of me to leave that burning. Did I leave it like that all day?
When I open the door to my little studio bungalow, I notice right away there is a lump in the bed, the blankets moving rhythmically up and down with each of their heavy breaths.