Page 36 of Lights, Camera, Love

Stab me in the eyesandthe ears.

‘Shush, I’m fine with the dialogue,’ Buzz says, waving a hand at Jakob. ‘But I’d like to do one more take.’

Austin hangs his head while I consider how I might pull off a self-induced coma. The upside is that next week is meant to be our last week of filming, although I’m not holding my breath.

‘Final checks, please!’ calls out Cassie, the first AD.

Evie holds still as the makeup artist dashes in to paint a fresh stripe of red over her lips—a colour requested by Buzz, of course, because it makes so much fucking sense to wear cherry-red lipstick in the kitchen at night. Evie passes the makeup artist an apologetic smile, like it’s herfault we’re all trapped in here. Her gaze then shifts left and rubs against my own.

My face heats up.

Hi,our eyes seem to say to each other.

Seeing you is the only thing keeping me sane right now,I think.

‘Quiet, please. Roll sound!’ calls Cassie, breaking the moment.

Austin resets his expression, bringing back Jamie’s flushed, about-to-be-kissed look, while Evie lines up in front of him.

‘Sound speed,’ says James from the sound cart. Louis clutches his boom pole and hovers the microphone just above the actors’ heads.

A clapper is held in front of Austin’s face, and Cassie says, ‘Roll camera.’

Buzz yells, ‘Wait—cut!’

‘Wasn’t rolling yet, man,’ mutters Cesar, the camera operator, who steps back from the viewfinder with a huff.

‘I’ve just figured out what’s not working for me with this scene,’ announces Buzz. He bounds towards Austin and Evie, his frizzy hair bobbing. ‘It doesn’t make sense that Constance is wearing theseclothesin the kitchen late at night,’ he gripes, like Evie’s skin-tight jeans and yellow singlet top are an offence of the highest order. ‘She should be in some sort of negligee.’

‘Negligee?’ Evie repeats, blanching. ‘But…this scene happens right after the dinner with Angel. And this is what Constance was wearing at that dinner.’

‘She’s right,’ Austin says.

Buzz throws up a hand. ‘Fuck the dinner. I’m sorry, but I can’t get aroused by this kiss when Constance is dressed like an ageing housewife. This is a pivotal moment.’

I can feel knives sharpening inside me as I glare at Buzz.

‘I just don’t see why Constance would—’ Evie starts, but Buzz cuts her off.

‘Wardrobe! Get her in some sort of nightdress that doesn’t look like something my grandmother would wear. Everyone else, take a few minutes’ break.’

Buzz paces back to the monitor with his arms folded over his lime-green jumper, a garment that should be hung, drawn and quartered. Preferably with him in it. The crew members down their equipment, some checking their watches, others exchanging fed-up looks.

Evie hurries out of the studio with Romy from the wardrobe department, and Austin wanders over to me. After that article came out, the one suggesting he and I are secret lovers, he’s been acting like a moody teenager, seesawing between bouts of manic elation and states of lethargic depression. When he started hiding in his room and wouldn’t come out and talk to me, I feared he was back on the opiates. But after I threatened to walk out and quit my job if he didn’t straighten out—total posturing on my part—he sank to his knees, assured me he was still clean and tried to sort out his moods.

He nudges my high-top Converse with his Blundstone boot. ‘How’s the kiss looking?’

I expected this morning’s scene to inspire an acidic spell of jealousy, but truthfully, it’s mostly boredom that’s left me feeling as if I’m trapped in a nightmare. Austin’s kisses with Evie have had about as much chemistry as a concrete block.

‘Not good,’ I say honestly. ‘I think I’d be more interested if two llamas were making out.’

‘Shit, really?’ He taps his heel against the vinyl floor. ‘I thought for sure we had some fire going—especially with how into me Evie is. She never stops fuckin’ smiling at me.’

She never stops smiling at everyone, jackass. If you paid attention to her for more than five minutes, you’d know that.

Two crew members push past us, wheeling the camera towards the staircase that’s, mystifyingly, been built into the kitchen set.

‘What’s going on? You’re resetting?’ Austin asks, striding over to where Buzz is directing the grips to rig the camera to the staircase so that the lens peers between the gaps in the railing.

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