Page 50 of Friends with Benefits

It’s fine.

She doesn’t need it.

Theo’s comfort.

Evie runs to the bathroom, where she remains until her stomach settles and her eyes depuff. Then she reapplies mascara before heading into the studio, half-empty cup in hand.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, in lieu of a greeting as she approaches Sadie Silverman, who is securing block heels that she’s not even five feet in when standing. She’s dressed in billowy black pants and a white T-shirt, her gray-at-the-roots hair pulled back in a messy bun. “A Tesla cut me off.”

Without a word, Sadie Silverman takes the cup from her, pours two sugar packets into it, then downshalf a large lattelike it’s a tequila shot.

It’s equal parts terrifying and impressive.

“Teslas,” Sadie Silverman mutters, crushing the empty cup in her hands. “I needed this, thank you. It’s been a day.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

She shakes her head. “Charlie can show you how the mixer works.”

“I—”

—know how a mixer works.

She cuts herself off, because Sadie Silverman has moved on, sifting through a box of carpet swatches. Evie’s shoulders sag in defeat as she exits the studio and enters the mixing room. Charlie Crosby greets her with a sympathetic nod, sipping on his soy matcha. “Chicken feet.”

Evie blinks. “What?”

“She’s never recorded Foley for an anthropomorphic chicken before and the studio keeps asking for revisions on the steps. First pass, too chicken. Second pass, too human. What the fuck does an anthropomorphic chicken even sound like?” Charlie gives her a look. “Execs says they’ll know when they hear it.”

“Seems reasonable,” Evie deadpans. “Today you’re supposed to teach me how to operate that”—she points to the mixer, the same mixer she recordedAfter Ever Afteron—“sound thingy.”

Charlie snorts. “Well, Evie. This heresound thingyis called amixer.”

They laugh. Evie and Charlie appreciate each other’s sense of humor. Charlie appreciates that Evie knows how to operate a mixer and has an ear for the nuances of sound. Evie appreciates that Charlie not only pronounces her name correctly, but also read her résumé and asked genuine questions about her hopes and dreams. In just four days, she’s developed a rapport with Sadie Silverman’s mixer that she should be developing with Sadie Silverman herself. At lunch on Tuesday, she learned his story. Charlie has been in the business for thirtyyears, starting as a boom mic operator before transitioning to postproduction. He met Sadie Silverman at a queer bar in West Hollywood before Evie was born, and the two, quote (from Charlie!), “bisexual babies” grew into one of the most sought-after Foley duos in the industry.

“Sadie is incredible,” Charlie says, his eyes sparkling with admiration. “Just guarded. Give her time. Or expedite it by bringing her some chicken feet.”

After a morning in the mixing room with Charlie, observing Sadie Silverman record Anna Kendrick’s footsteps for an upcoming thriller, she spends the afternoon running around Burbank in search of chicken feet. Charlie doesn’t provide any direction. It’s super helpful. After rummaging through her own personal prop bag she keeps in her trunk, Evie ends up back on Magnolia, browsing the thrift stores that line both sides of the street for any shoes or tchotchkes that could mimic the sound of chicken steps.

“Any luck?” Charlie asks upon her return to the studio with an afternoon latte à la Sadie, an extra-large with extra sugar packets to make up for that morning.

“Nope.”

“Next time, kid.”

Charlie Crosby is the only man of a certain age who can pull off calling Eviekidin a way that is neither condescending nor creepy. It’s weirdly comforting. Evie is certain that her father issues definitely do not play into this dynamic she’s developed with Charlie—who’s a single dad, who has photos of his two teenage daughters on his desk, who makes sure to leave the studio by 5:00 p.m. and not one minute later to get home to them. As Evie imagines a childhood with a dad like Charlie, Sadie Silverman enters the mixing room after an entire day of stepping in sync (somuch of the job is footsteps!). “How’d she do?”

“A natural,” Charlie says.

Sadie Silverman nods.

Pivots.

Then exits.

“Give her time,” Charlie repeats.

Evie tosses her backpack over her shoulder and nods. “See you tomorrow, Charlie.”

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