“Exactly what are you pleading for?”
“I . . .” His eyes grow smaller and he looks at his feet.
“Yeah, alright. See you around, then.” I take off toward the back monitor room before he can get in another word.
I can’t sit still the whole time I’m back here, checking over other clips until we have to get ready to film the last scene. It’s almost over, and then who knows when we’ll see each other again. I’ll see him but it’ll no longer be enough. I need him to know I’m there. To ask me to be. To wake up and reach for me in his or my bed. An hour drags by, and when there’s only ten minutes left before I have to be on set, I walk to his dressing room, not caring who sees me.
I stand outside the door, my hand hovering over it, but it’s too stiff to connect. I rock on the back of my heels, grinding my teeth together, and a high-pitched noise has me pressing my ear to the cool wood. He’s moaning and slamming down on something. Maybe the chair? Or the vanity?
“Come on,” he says. “I can’t do this right if I can’t . . . if you can’t . . .” His words trail off and he makes another annoyed huff. “Please. I don’t need him. I don’t care about him. Fuck him and that stupid blonde bitch. Let them have each other.”
I smile wickedly, stepping away from the door. He’s on his own way back to me and doesn’t even realize it. I won’t have a door between us for long. He won’t be able to stand one between himself and the only person who can help him relax.
I turn around, whistling a happy tune, and when I see him on set, he’s flustered. He keeps snapping at everyone and is shaking too much during the first take.
Lisa lets out a rough sigh. “Come on, Maxwell, get it together. It’s one scene. What’s going on with you today? Is it coffee you need? Didn’t eat a big enough breakfast?”
What an insensitive bitch. Did she forget what happened only a week ago? She’s a worse person than I realized. She’d make a great side character in one of Sterling’s and my movies. The wheels look like they’re spinning around in his head as he looks at her dead in the eyes. He’s thinking the same thing, isn’t he?
“I’m fine. Took a long break and lost my groove is all.”
“Okay, we’ll take ten and go again.” She claps her hands and gets to her feet. He could slit her throat from behind right there, blood splattering on her chair, him, and the camera. Let’s see her bark orders then. All she’d get out that venomous mouth is gurgling and choking noises.
“Did you hear me, cameraman? We’re returning in ten.”
Yes, I heard you, cunt. People heard this bitch from outer space. “Loud and clear.” I give a thumbs-up.
“Good, because it appeared as if you were staring off into space.”
I refrain from flipping her the bird, rubbing the roof of my mouth with my tongue instead. “I was checking something on my camera. A little multitasking if you will.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Everyone, be back here in eight now. You can all thank the cameraman here for cutting into your break time.”
My temples throb and I turn away from her, pretending to mess with my bag as she continues yelling at whoever will listen. When I look up, most of the room is cleared, all except for Sterling, who’s facing away from me with his fists clenching and rage pulsing through the veins of his arms.
“God, I hate her,” he says to no one in particular. Yeah, that’s right, little idol, let that hate fester. He looks around and his eyesfall on me, mine meeting his briefly before I straighten up to lift my bag off the floor.
“So, you’re really going to lunch with her, then?” His voice vibrates through the air.
My gaze circles around him as I act like the question was for someone else.
“Oh, cut the shit, you know I’m talking to you,” he says pointedly.
“I’d be careful doing that if I were you. Anyone could be around listening.”
Irritation floods his eyes. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“What about?” Getting under his skin is too easy while it’s also bringing him closer. He’s desperate to be in my good graces again.
His posture grows more rigid. “You’re really going to make me repeat myself?”
Crossing my arms, I lean to my side. “Yeah, yeah, I think I am.”
He rubs at his temple. “Are you . . . you’re really going to meet her for lunch?”
“Who?” My forehead divots. “Lisa?”
He scoffs. “You know what? Never mind.”