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We wouldn’t be filing till after Berg’s premiere, but seeing the agreement, it felt over and done. Hawaii felt like a whole other world. Now I sat waiting on a new film set, watching Joe Gruber berate the lighting crew. He wasn’t like Berg, who went mostly by feel. Gruber was a details man; all technique, all craft. He buzzed around between takes like a bothersome fly, telling everyone on set how to do their jobs. I’d had my fill of him a week into shooting, and now in our fifth week, I wanted to kick him.
“I need his face deep in shadow,” Gruber was saying. “Deep contrast, stark highlights. Exaggeration.” He fired up a spotlight and adjusted its beam. “Tight on his face, with the street dark behind him.”
If Lacey were here, we’d be mocking his accent — clipped and fake-British, New York underneath.
If Lacey were here, we’d hardly notice him at all.
I reached for my phone and fired up a game, blasted a few zombies to clear my head of Lacey. I needed to move on, to put her behind me. But she was everywhere, in everything I did. I’d come down to breakfast and reach for a muffin, and remember her biting into a blueberry one and screaming, outraged the berries weren’t chocolate chips. Or I’d be in my limo and we’d hit a pothole, and I’d remember her calling them “knotholes.” I’d laughed at that. Who called them knotholes? She’d said, well, whypotholes? Where was the pot?
Gruber finished with the lighting and called us back to set, me and my co-star, Jeremy Dancy. I stood up, reluctant, and shrugged off my coat, and the breeze off the ocean chilled my wet shirt. A thin drizzle was falling, more mist than rain, and I grimaced as moisture blew in my face.
“Watch your lighting,” said Gruber. “Jeremy, I need you in Eric’s shadow. I don’t want the camera getting a clear view of your face. Eric, stand firm, no sudden movements. You keep sort of nodding, and the light hits his face.”
I blinked to keep from rolling my eyes. “No nodding. Got it.”
“All right, then. Action.”
I turned to Jeremy. “How was he there, and no one saw him but you?”
He dipped his head so his collar hid his face. “There’s all kinds of ways of not being seen.”
“That club was packed. Don’t give me that. You can’t be in a crowded room and nobody sees you.”
“You can be in a crowded room and no one remembers. All you need’s—”
“Nodding!Cut!” Gruber pointed straight at me. “I told you, hold still.”
I hadn’t been nodding. I’d beentalking,was all. Nobody talked and held perfectly still.
“Jeremy, duck lower. Eric, no nodding. Once more, and… action.”
I turned to Jeremy and Gruber yelled cut. I’d turned too sharply. Let the spotlight cut past me. The next take, I nodded. The take after that, I was stiff. Seven takes later, I was soaked to the skin, trying not to shiver or, saints forbid, nod, and Jeremy flubbed his line and burst out laughing. And Gruber came for me, flappy hands flying.
“I need you in this,” he said.
I stared at him. “Me?”
“You’re wooden. You’re stiff. Jeremy’s having fun with it, getting into his role, but you’re… I don’t know. Are you bored with this scene?”
I should have said no. I should’ve smiled and kept going. But I was wet, cold, and miserable, and I’d had it with Gruber. I rounded on him, fists bunched at my sides.
“Are you kidding? Of course I’m bored. We’ve been shooting for hours, ortryingto shoot, mostly just sitting while you nitpick the lighting. Then you’re finally ready, and I can’t move? I can’t bob my head, or whatever I’m doing? If your lighting’s that finicky, maybe the problem is you.”
Gruber’s eyes widened. He took a stumbling step back. I realized I was looming, stalking up in his face.
“Sorry,” I said, and stepped back myself. I relaxed my shoulders and unclenched my fists.
“I think, uh, I think that’s it for today.” Gruber picked up a clipboard and held it to his chest, as though to protect himself from my mad charge. I backed off, embarrassed, feeling stupid and small. This wasn’t me, snapping on set.
“I’m not bored,” I said, trying to walk back my gaffe. “I didn’t sleep well last night. I, uh, I’m sorry. That was unprofessional. I shouldn’t—”
“It’s fine,” said Gruber, but I could see it wasn’t. He got a chair between us and waved me away. “Go get some sleep. We’ll try again tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow, yeah. Listen, I—”
“Let’s just drop it.” Gruber’s smile was tight. Strained. “We all have our off days. Go rest for tomorrow.”
I did as he said and went back to my hotel room, and took a hot shower to rinse off my day. When I got out, I felt warmer, but no less hollow. I lay on my bed awhile and stared at the ceiling, but sleep didn’t come, so I got up and got dressed. I headed down to the gym, found it closed for cleaning, and trudged back upstairs and rummaged through my suitcase. My e-reader was hiding in that weird little pouch, the one meant for toiletries, that hangs off the lid. I pulled it out, thumbed it on, and sat down to read, but none of the books in the library were mine.
