Chapter 6 I Need Help
I Need Help
Carly
My Capstone project was split into two classes.
It’s pretty standard for the university’s film program, and it’s technically not called a Capstone project—I just call it that to make it easier to explain my coursework to my family whenever they ask. It’s the senior thesis, but I think Capstone sounds cooler.
This class is my post-production part of the Capstone. The filming has wrapped, and all that’s left is to put everything I’ve worked on for my entire fall quarter together in one video.
It’s a twelve-minute long short film that will be presented to the board and we were given creative freedom within the guidelines of the university. So, I couldn’t use as much fake blood as I planned before.
Yes, fake blood. Made out of chocolate syrup, glycerin, and a shit ton of Red-40.
My headphones are practically glued to my head, my eyes on the screen as I try to splice clips together and match the audio. I love the production part of filmmaking because it’s interactive and, as the ambivert that I am, I get to talk to people.
Pre-production? Awesome, because that means brainstorming ideas on how we can capture scenes.
The filming process? Even better. More brainstorming, and I have an excuse to touch the fancy cameras the school provides us with.
Post-production, however? That’s the sole reason I need Adderall in the first place. Lots of it, along with water, snacks, and sunlight. I like to consider myself an overly excited puppy, but keep me contained?
I will go fucking crazy. I need space, fresh air, for crying out loud.
As of now, I’m running on my morning dose of Adderall and…
Something’s still fucking wrong.
Checking the clock on my phone, I notice that I’ve been here for around…
five hours. Wow, that’s got to be my personal best. I got to the lab at around ten in the morning, and all my snacks are finished, my water bottle half-full—with the ice melted—and yet almost nothing about my current project changed in the time I spent staring at my screen.
“Knock, knock.” I turn my head away from the computer to find a head of bright red hair.
My friend Stella Soul makes herself comfortable in the seat next to me.
Since I’m the only film student crazy enough to come to school on a Saturday, my professor, who oversees the computer lab, allowed me to come in during his office hours and work on it.
He has since left, and I have been sitting here since.
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Thanks for coming, Stella. I need help.”
And who better to help me than the girl starring in my Capstone project?
I approached Stella back in the fall, thinking she would be the perfect actress to portray my unspoken villain.
She had already acted in the horror genre before this project, and working with her was exhilarating because we would always spitball ideas on how to make her character more nuanced.
Yes, this is a school assignment, but it’s also a gateway. I want to show that I’m a director worth working with. My professors aren’t the only people who will watch this film. This is going up on the internet after I get the go-ahead.
“Do you see something wrong with this?” I start the video from the beginning and give her the headphones. Stella watches the film intently, and when it’s over, she turns to me with a smile.
“First of all, it’s amazing,” she gushes. “You are going to kill it.” Her nose scrunches, the gold septum ring moving with it. “That was a bad pun.”
We laugh.
“However,” she continues. “I don’t know about the ending. Everything else, though? It’s perfect.”
I frown at the screen in front of me. “I’ve been stuck here for five hours, only to realize that it’s the ending that’s the problem?” The ending was supposed to have a twist, where Stella is revealed to be the bad guy.
The unspoken villain in the story.
It’s mostly a silent video with ominous music that I hired a student composer to create, playing in the background. Most of my actors who starred in this film—except Stella, of course—graduated early and were just looking for something to fill the time.
“Right now, I can only imagine reshooting the ending,” I sigh in defeat, my body slumped in my chair. The idea of doing another take of a scene that I filmed a few months ago seems daunting, especially trying to round up the rest of my actors.
“At least you don’t need everyone,” Stella pipes up. “Just me and Dean.”
“Dean’s in Massachusetts,” I point out.
She frowns. “Okay, that’s a bummer. Well, we just need to find another actor.”
“How are we going to find an actor at the last minute?” Just as the sentence leaves my mouth, a light bulb turns on in my head, and the gears begin to shift. We’re in a university known for educating former celebrities and actors trying to break into Hollywood.
And I know just the person to ask.
“On second thought,” Stella says. “Don’t tell me.”
I pat the top of her vibrant red hair. “Don’t worry, I’m not planning a crime scene.”
“Carly, with the film you’re editing, you might as well be.”
Once I arrive in my apartment, I fall on the floor, grab one of the throw pillows on the couch, and scream into it.
“Do you need a doctor?” Ali jokes. Lying on the floor is fairly common in our apartment when either Ali or I has a crisis.
I shake my head, the throw pillow lightly scratching my face. “I just need food. We’re out of mangoes, and I smell takeout.”
“You can have the rest of my egg rolls.”
I roll myself over, facing my best friend, who holds out a plate of egg rolls. “Thanks, Ali-cat,” I hum, taking two from the plate and biting into one.
“Everything go well with your project?” She asks, sitting down next to me.
After swallowing the bite, I shake my head. “I need to re-record the final scene.”
She frowns. “That’s too bad. At least it shouldn’t take a while, right? Like last time?” Ali helped out on set the night I filmed it. She knew how many takes it took to get the ending just right, because I would stop at nothing for my craft.
“Except that almost everyone I worked with had already graduated early or left the state.” I take another bite of my egg roll, hoping to calm my nerves. “I would be starting over from scratch.”
“Vinny and I can help,” she suggests. “I’ll force him along.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Carly,” she stops me. “I would be glad to help again. You’re my best friend—do you think I wouldn’t do anything for you?”
I didn’t think she would offer a second time.
Who am I to question my friendship with Ali, one that transcends back to my “troublemaking” days?
She was there for me when teachers believed I was misbehaving, when my family didn’t know what was wrong with me.
She was there when I received my late diagnosis and supported me when I chose to go on Adderall.
My times were hard, but she was the friend who made it all better.
That’s Ali for you—the caring big sister to my chaotic little sister.
“And with Vinny helping, we’ll get Crew.”
I snort at the response. “Not possible.”
“Crew would help,” she insists.
Shaking my head in disagreement, I take another bite of my egg roll. “Crew doesn’t like me.” He likes you, I think to myself. There’s no way those words are leaving my mouth.
Then again, the guy doesn’t like people like me—anyone passionate about film and television. It’s apparent and has been since the day I met him at H-Mart. Every time he sees me, I swear he’s going through a mild PTSD episode.
“Yeah, he does. I saw you two talking at the bowling alley.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “And Vinny even told me how Crew was asking for you a while back. I wonder why.”
“Well, he definitely doesn’t want to ask me out.”
She scoffs. “For someone so happy and go-lucky, you talk badly about yourself a lot.”
“I’m just being realistic.” How Ali has not found out about Crew’s crush is far beyond me. She’s known Crew for longer than I have, and it only took me less than five seconds to notice.
“Who could hate you, Carl? You know you’re beautiful,” she continues, ignoring me. “And your personality is one that many celebrities would sacrifice their favorite tube of lip oil for.”
I rest my head on her shoulder. “Thanks for the encouragement, but if you manage to convince Crew to help out on a film set, out of everything, I will pay for your next shopping spree.”
Ali smiles confidently. “Then you better pay up right now.”