Page 25 of Love and Horns


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I swallow spit trying to keep myself from spewing in front of her…that wouldn’t be a good look.

“So I have this thing…I’m sick and can barely stand let alone be more than three feet from a toilet,” and before I can get any more words out, she is backing away and covering her mouth.

“Oh my gosh, what do you have? Am I going to catch it being in here? I do not fare well being sick.” Here she goes with the rambling.

“It’s not contagious, at least I don’t think,” I pause to see if she is reacting genuinely or playing it up to keep the rouse alive that she did this to me. She keeps her face stone, no hint that she had any idea about the state I was in. I let her off the hook this time.

“Okay, so like what does this mean? Are we wrapped up for the day? Am I supposed to tend to you while you’re sick and like hold your hair back or something? Not really sure why you called me here.”

“If you would stop talking for ten seconds I would be able to get a word in. Nora wants you principal shooter today. I know you haven’t worked with the camera or set up so I wanted to talk quickly before you’re expected out there.” I pause, not for dramatic effect but for puke prevention.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

I take a long sip of water, something few people have ever seen me do in this lifetime. I pride myself on living only on things with high levels of caffeine, sugar, or the deadly combination of both.

“Wait, so I get to hold the camera today? For real?”

The smile on her face could wreck my whole soul, I swear. She looks to me like I am a genie that just granted her a hundred wishes instead of three. I want her to give me that look every damn day from here on out.

“It’s about time, I guess. It was bound to happen eventually. Nora will meet you on set with the shot list information to go over. I know it’s short notice but I never get sick so I didn’t expect to be knocked on my ass like this.”

And just like that, her face drops. The excitement from her eyes drained into what looks like panic. Fear. Uncertainty. She is freaking out.

“Carter,” her eyes snap to mine when I whisper her name.

“You can do this, I know you can. You’ve been watching me long enough, don’t pretend that you haven’t dreamed about taking my place. This is your chance and you will probably only get one. Make it count,” I attempt a pep talk and hope I said the right things to get her to believe me.

None of it is a lie, I know she can take this on. She observes me like she is writing a book about my life, keeping track of the smallest patterns I don’t even notice about myself.

Her eyes keep searching mine, looking for lies that she won’t find.

With a nod, she continues. “What if they won’t listen to me? I have been pretty non-threatening this whole time and now I am expected to lay down the law and crack the whip. That’s so not me…”

“You are exactly who you need to be for this,” I interrupt. “Don’t try and be me, you know I can’t be replaced,” I say with a smirk. “You don’t need to be me to find success for yourself, too. Take the stuff I have let you learn, even though it’s not much because I’m an ass, but never overwrite yourself with someone else’s personality.”

Fuck, these long-winded responses trying to give her the right mindset going out there is killing me slowly. Another chug of my water slides down my throat.

“Please, just get out of your head and fucking do it, okay? A whole lotta jobs are riding on us keeping this schedule.”

“Right, ya, okay. I can do this. I am Carter Vaughn and this is my chance to prove that to…well honestly, myself.” She confesses and I crumble a little more before I have to book it to the bathroom attached to my office.

I slam the door to the bathroom, not wanting her to witness me at my weakest point. I hope for her sake that this door keeps out the noise, but with how loud my retches are, I doubt I get that wish.

When I finally emerge from evicting everything in my stomach, even though there’s nothing left, I am surprised to find her leaning against the wall next to the bathroom.

“Fuck, I didn’t think you would stick around for all that,” I gesture to the bathroom.

“I wanted to give you space but I need to know a few things about the camera and stuff so I don’t go out there and make a doof of myself.”

“Oh, right. Take a seat on the couch and I will show you,” I add, the regret of keeping her in this office already haunting me.

I’mnotsurewhyBK insists on sitting out on set when he feels like this, but that hasn’t stopped him. He sits slumped in my usual chair and it’s a weird feeling. The roles reversed, the opportunity I had been dying for since I got here was now a reality.

I know I need to stay focused but having him out here has my brain bouncing. The camera is not only heavy in my hands, but heavy on my heart. This is what I love to do. This is what I came here for.

Yet I feel like an imposter holding the camera he captures the world through. I look back at him, the color drained from his face and his eyes heavy with evidence he didn’t get much sleep.

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