28. Hay in Your Hair and Almost Accidental Sex #2
ON-SCREEN TEXT: [THE CONTROL ROOM CAN'T SEE A THING. BUT WE SWEAR WE JUST HEARD THE PIANO BEGGING FOR MERCY.]
[VIDEO DISTORTION EFFECT. SMASH CUT.]
[REC – HIDDEN CAMERA 05: BARN - NO AUDIO]
The shot is greenish, grainy, typical of night vision.
The icon in the bottom right blinks: [MICS DISCONNECTED].
Carolina and the twins have snuck out of the house.
Carolina has her back pressed flat against a hay bale. Cole dives for her neck, looks like he's pulling down the straps of her dress, while Cade drops to his knees right in front of her.
Carolina has her head thrown back, her hands tangled in both brothers' hair.
[CUT]
[REC – CAMERA 08: WEST WING HALLWAY]
Dim lighting. Susan and Emerson stumble against the paneled wall, visibly drunk.
Her makeup is smudged, his glasses are crooked on his nose.
Susan yanks the collar of his sweater vest, pulling him toward her for a clumsy, wet, desperate kiss.
Emerson, suddenly emboldened, grips her hips and shoves her against the wall, kissing her back fiercely.
[REC – PRODUCTION RV / BEHIND THE SCENES]
Color footage of the backstage area. The darkness behind the scenes of the set. The producer stares at the wall of monitors.
Beside him, arms crossed over his chest, is a terrifyingly, lethally attractive man.
He has hard, perfect features, a square jaw covered by dark stubble, and shoulders so broad they make the crew members around him look tiny.
His dark eyes, lit by a dangerous fire, are locked onto the monitor broadcasting the kiss between Susan and Emerson.
A muscle ticks in his jaw. His fists clench at his sides, knuckles turning white from the pressure.
"That's the guy I want to challenge," he declares. His voice is a low, cold thunder that leaves absolutely no room for argument. "And I want to do it right now."
The producer looks at him, surprised by the sudden choice, then a greedy smile spreads across his face at the television potential.
"Great move. We need a fake kidnapping to isolate him quickly.
Control room, let's orchestrate an audio diversion in the west hallway. Let's lure him away from the girl.”
[REC – CAMERA 08: WEST WING HALLWAY]
On the screen, Emerson and Susan are still tangled up when a heavy thud echoes in the distance at the end of the hall.
The two stop dead, panting, pulling apart.
"What was that?" Susan whispers, blinking and looking around in confusion.
Emerson straightens up, adjusting his glasses and trying to strike a ridiculously fearless hero pose to impress her. "Don't worry. I'll go check it out. You wait for me here."
Susan nods weakly, leaning against the wall, while Emerson walks away with unsteady steps, disappearing around the corner, swallowed by the dark hallway.
[REC – INFRARED CAMERA: SERVICE HALLWAY]
Emerson advances alone in the dark, putting his fists up in an amateur boxing stance, approaching the epicenter of the noise.
Two stagehands dressed in black are waiting behind the corner, holding a black burlap sack to stage a perfect TV kidnapping.
But before they can take a single step, the challenger pushes past them. He muscles his way into the frame, a massive, unstoppable shadow.
Emerson stops dead.
"Knock it off with these little games, I'm not falling for it," he stammers.
Lucien bypasses the fake kidnapping entirely: he bursts out in front of him, snaps his arm back, and unleashes a lightning-fast hook. He clocks the astrophysicist right in the jaw.
Emerson crumbles to the floor unconscious before he even realizes what hit him, while the two PAs take a step back, eyes wide, clearly intimidated by the cowboy's fury.
Off-camera, the producer's voice crackles over the walkie-talkie in the background: "Fuck, he actually hurt him! That wasn't the plan! Grab his body and get some ice on him! Cut, cut!”
[CONFESSIONAL: EMERSON]
Emerson is sitting on the leather couch. He's pressing a massive ice pack against his jaw, his expression halfway between bewildered and furious.
"That punch..." he starts, adjusting his crooked glasses with his pinky finger.
He points to the bruise blooming out from under the ice.
"That punch was absolutely not accidental! He completely ignored the basic rules of stage combat. There was clear, unjustified, personal hostility behind that right hook! And right when Susan was... well, was about to connect intellectually with me!"
[CUT]
[CONFESSIONAL: CAROLINA]
The camera clicks on to frame her. Her makeup is slightly smudged, her lips are visibly swollen, and there's a gleam of pure satisfaction in her eyes.
She's rocking a black tank top, ripped at the sides, featuring a new slogan printed in bold white letters: RIDE HARD OR GO HOME.
She lounges casually on the leather couch, crossing her legs and settling in with extreme calm. She runs a hand through her wildly messy brunette waves, pinching a small, unmistakable piece of yellow hay out of her curls with two fingers.
She stares at it for a second, twirling it between her fingers. Then she looks up dead into the lens, flashing a brazen, feline, and absolutely unapologetic smile.
"Sorry..." she murmurs, tilting her head with fake innocence. "Do I still have hay in my hair?"
She bursts out laughing, a clear, triumphant laugh, as the shot fades to black.