Between You And Me

9~On Set

For the first day of shooting, Director Cross had everyone come in an hour earlier than scheduled. At six in the morning, the sun barely peered through the haunting fog blanketing the town. Even in the makeup trailer, we could feel the crisp chill of the morning air nipping at the backs of our necks.

Suzan, my hairstylist, shivered behind me in the mirror. “Damn, did it get colder in here?” She paused on a strand of hair to reach for the coffee I handed her from the table. “Thank you, love.” After a few sips to warm her up, she gave it back, continuing with the last bit of my hair. We still had a good half hour before it was my turn to be on set, but I expressed that I wished to see the scene before so I could get a glimpse of my co-stars in their role. And Suzan, after makeup had been set, diligently clipped in extensions, volumized, and curled the dark strands until they gleamed under the fluorescent lights. “There you go.”

Removing the apron to not stain my costume (a simple olive shirt with jeans and an open jacket), I hopped out of her chair. “Thanks.” She just nodded, grabbing her coffee to finally savor the last of it.

Walking out of the trailer, I was met with Dad’s judgmental gaze, looking me over for approval. Barely a word was spoken between us since I snuck out of the house Sunday afternoon without warning, him catching a cab only to see his car across the street from St. Divine. And a few minutes later, watching me step outside with Director Cross by my side and Anthony on the other. He said nothing, only granted me a glare the moment our eyes met and I instinctively ran towards him, barely whispering a goodbye to them.

I stayed the rest of the day in my room to avoid his wrath like a child escaping punishment.

With a silent nod of approval, I sighed in relief, walking towards the house where the camera crew had already assembled themselves inside. The back doors were kept open, the morning breeze wisping through the room as everyone except the actors kept their jackets on. There were a few chairs by the entrance where the actors could sit and watch without getting in the frame. I took a seat beside Rosemarie, who kept her eyes on her phone, clearly ignoring the ‘no phones on set’ rule we’d been told beforehand.

Director Cross sat in the director’s chair, his entire focus pulled to the double screens examining Jolene Terrell’s solemn expression as she spoke in an exasperated tone.

“There are no more secrets, Ezra, I swear,” she promised, grasping the hand of her co-star, Owen Francis. Instead of taking his hand away, he stepped closer to her, embracing her, gently tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. At that moment, he not only embraced her physically but emotionally, her body visibly relaxing under his piercing gaze. She repeated, “I swear,” accepting his affection, placing her head on his chest.

The camera spiraled upwards towards Owen’s expression, his eyes darkening a shade on screen as he soothed her into submission. My breath hitched at the sight of his transformation from protector to prey in a split second, something inside me twisting upon itself at the sight. “It’s alright. We’ll bring her here. It’ll be alright.”

A second camera capturing their posture from a distance zoomed out, slowly panning to L.J., who played his son, standing by the doorway, listening to their conversation. Listening to the news that there’d be a surprising addition to their small family, a secret daughter of his stepmother. He held the door, his knuckles turning a ghostly white as his grip on the wood tightened along with an ominous expression on his face.

“CUT!”

Immediately, the tension in the air ceased as the actors relaxed in their personhood, shaking off the solemnity of the scene. As cameramen quickly scampered to reposition themselves, Director Cross stepped away from the shadows of his seat into the light of the frame.

“Nice work, all of you,” he complimented, receiving a grin from the stars. He smiled back and even at this distance, I could see the genuine delight in his eyes at the scene, with his film finally coming to fruition. A tiny fluttering in my chest had been straightening at the sight of his joy, noticing the boyish twinkle in his smile.

“Someone’s got a crush,” Rosemarie muttered. If I wasn’t sitting beside her, I wouldn’t have heard it or even noticed as she kept her eyes on her phone screen.

“What?” I jolted at her childish accusation. Before she could repeat herself, Neil, Director Cross’ assistant, rushed towards me with a tablet in hand.

He pushed up his glasses. “Miss Brookshaw, we’ll be ready for you on set in five. Introduction scene.”

I nodded, stepping away from my seat as he quickly moved on to his next assignment outside. “Not a crush,” I muttered, barely attracting Rosemarie’s attention before walking triumphantly towards the empty director's chair. It wasn’t crush, just admiration. We were similar, Caleb Cross and I, having to step into our light as children of prominent figures, and I admired that. Nothing more.

At least, that’s what I told myself.

A few crew members were replaying the scene on the LCD screen, already jotting down the initial edits. They said nothing as I watched the process over their shoulders, flipping through the scene frame by frame. There was an elegant yet sinister appearance within the film, the open space where they stood seeming so grand off-screen, but on, it felt as though I were witnessing something I shouldn’t.

“Are you ready for your scene?” a voice asked, snatching me out of the moment.

Dr. Grace, the on-set psychiatrist, stood beside me, her footsteps barely audible as she took a step back, grasping onto her tablet. “Don’t mind me,” she started with a whimsical smile that greatly annoyed me for some reason. “Just checking in to make sure you’re feeling safe on set. Are any unsettling memories popping up? Feelings of being overwhelmed or anything of the sort?”

I shook my head, crossing my arms as though it would shield me from her questioning. “No, I’m fine.”

She only nodded, typing something onto her tablet before returning her gaze to me. “Good. If you start feeling uncomfortable, tell Director Cross, and he’ll stop. I’ll stay on set, as a precaution.”

I hated that. I hated that I was a precaution for them, something that had to be monitored, unlike the other actors who could roam freely without being accosted with questions about their feelings and anxieties. I just wanted to do my scenes in peace, instead, people watched me with caution, as I could flip at the drop of a hat.

Like I could ruin this entire film for them.

As though she could read my mind, she left with a nod, returning to the sidelines, but keeping her eyes on me. As though I could shake her eyes off of me, I headed towards a crew member to ask where my placement would be. They told me they were moving the set to the entrance of the front door, five minutes at most, and were already setting the luggage bags outside for the scene.

“Are you ready?”

The question irked me a second time, and I felt a resentful heat coursing through my body. Didn’t she have something else to do instead of hovering over me? With the intent of glaring her away, I turned only to be greeted by L.J. Serrano's smiling face. Oh. Almost immediately, the heat quickly dissolving into embarrassment, I found it silly to think it was her again.

“Um, yeah…” I answered awkwardly.

L.J. Serrano, already adored by the women (and some men) on set and a few wailing fans mixed with the protestors in town, had been dubbed the heartthrob of the production. When he smiled, dimples caved into his cheeks, making his hazel eyes glisten, especially when a ribbon of gold hair fell over one eye, granting him a shadow of suave decadence. I could appreciate his looks but I didn’t know that much beneath it all.

“I’m ready,” I told him more confidently. “Especially after your performance.”

Tucking his hands in his pockets, he stepped closer, his body heat entangled with smokey rosewood captivating my space. “Thanks. I’m sure you’ll be amazing.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice so only I could hear him, my chest clenching at the proximity. “I’ve enjoyed your acting since The Withering.” With a smile, he stepped back but kept close. “And I’ve been excited to act with you since I gained the role of Asher.”

“Thank…you…?” I didn’t know what else to say. Yes, I’ve been complimented on my roles numerous times. But this was the first by a co-star of his prestige. Honestly, I’ve been trying to find movies and shows my co-workers have done previously this weekend, and it felt intimidating to see their skills compared to mine. L.J. had a talent when it came to portraying dynamic characters. His facial expressions were able to change the mood of an entire set.

“And I know this is quite forward, but would you like to go on a date?”