|
“First, don’t call me mate.” I shoved the script against his chest. “Second, if you want me in it, shouldn’t you tell me what I should be doing other than… Will: sit on beach?”
He regarded me with a funny look before grabbing my shoulder and going, “There’s really nothing to say except your only plan is to go sit on that beach right there, and try not to speak when Ang runs her lines.”
“She has lines during that scene? Since when?”
“Since we added them this morning, keep up.” He patted my shoulder and jogged off, grabbing his headphones once again while one of the PAs handed him his coffee. Sometimes I hated his British ass.
At least half the time.
Begrudgingly, I stomped over to my spot on the sand. Honestly, at least I was wearing clothing, poor Angelica was handed a black string bikini and sunglasses while I at least got neon board shorts and a black tank top.
The neon pissed me off, but everything else was fine, including the Ray-Bans that I told Jay I got to keep for emotional duress.
He didn’t argue.
I shoved the aviators on my face and sat.
“Quiet on set.”
“Balls, I hate my life,” I grumbled.
“Quiet on set!” came a second yell.
I threw up my hands and mouthed sorry.
The scene was slated, and I entered into the Seventh Circle of Hell also known as Bikini Armageddon or death by strings.
Ang jogged by me, her heavy breasts spilling out of her swimsuit top nearly blinding me with so much lust that I almost improvised the scene and dove ass first into the ocean.
She stopped just shy from me as the rest of the scene around us played out.
The other characters, including Pris and Lincoln, were playing on the beach, part of the scene including a barbecue and a few other things that I hadn’t paid attention to, partially because I didn’t really give a shit and partially because they kept re-writing things.
Angelica sat.
And hugged her knees.
I stared at her.
Like a creeper.
I had no other direction.
And then she turned her face to me and whispered. “Do you think I’m a bitch?”
I jerked my attention away from her, it was an honest reaction, one I couldn’t hide.
“Never mind.” She flashed a sad smile. “Maybe I am, maybe that’s why they hate me, no matter what I do… sometimes… I think life would have been better like a bird.” Tears filled her eyes. “Where you can fly away, escape.” Her sigh was rough, it hit me right in the middle of my chest as my heart slowed to a stop. “Escape all of this.”
It was eerily identical to a conversation we’d had before breaking up.
“Why?” I croaked. Jay could go to Hell for all I cared. “Why do you need… an escape?” I didn’t say that, because in the past, the conversation had centered around drugs, and I wasn’t sure that’s what this was about, in the movie, shit I needed to read the new changes if I was going to survive any of this.
“Because sometimes it’s better to feel nothing at all, then to feel all of it. I don’t think…” She chewed on her thumbnail then shoved her hands into the sand. “I don’t think I’m wired right.”
“Is anyone?” I joked.
Her smile was breathless. I scooted closer.
Apparently, whatever I was doing was fine since nobody had yelled cut. I wasn’t sure how many more lines she had, so I kept sitting there, sitting near her. It was nice, it was nice not being on the verge of yelling at her or taking out my anger on her.
Because I suddenly realized, maybe acting was the only way we were ever going to be able to have a civil conversation.
Damn you, Jaymeson.
“You’re normal. You don’t look at me like they do,” she finally said. “I think if everyone looked at me through your eyes — I wouldn’t need that escape. I think I would be tempted to…” She gulped. “Stay.” And then she straightened, holding her hands up to the sky as she fell onto her back and sighed. “For you I would stay.”
I leaned back next to her and reached for her hand.
She let me take it.
“For how long though…”
She was quiet.
And then her whisper carried across the wind, kissing me in the face. “Forever.”
|
SummerSimo Travel Troubles Notes and The Purring Page 