Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
"That’s great." As the elevator came to a stop, I put my free hand on Julian's lower back and ushered him out of the cart. "You get the view for April's apartment, too?"
We'd had another location scout from the start. Luckily, Tennyson had fired him when he'd suggested a "lovely view of the Eiffel Tower."
Because a starving painter could afford that…
"Yes, sir, all stock-photo ready and sent back to LA."
"Terrific," I replied. "I'll see you soon, then."
Pocketing my phone, I side-eyed Julian and found him wearing a weird little smile.
"What's with the smirk, kid?"
His smile grew. "I like this." He looked out over the large, open space. Cameras, dollies, lighting—everything pointed toward the attic apartment we'd set up in a corner. "I liked last night, too. You were all excited, and I can see why. It rubs off."
"Way too many dirty puns in one go." I hugged his neck to me and kissed the side of his head. "I'm glad you enjoyed that, though. It means a lot to me." Maybe he wasn't like Emma. "Okay, so this is a closed set." We approached the apartment where Sophie was pacing and rehearsing lines with herself. "It means fewer people and silence. You can say hey to her later, yeah?"
"Of course." He nodded. "You do your thing. I'm going to, um…yeah." He retrieved a notebook from his messenger bag.
I smiled and inclined my head. My musical genius was ready to work.
"All right, everyone. Focus!" Lucia came up from behind me and got busy.
She must've taken the stairs.
Those who had no business here scattered, leaving only nine or ten people. No one approached Sophie. She knew her mark, and we'd discussed everything before lunch.
She blew out a breath and rolled her shoulders. No longer a movie star, but the young graffiti artist on the run from her family. April was not only bipolar, but she had schizophrenia too, and she refused medication because she thought everyone was conspiring against her.
Her sole focus was to tell her story through art, so her son would know her truth.
Brooklyn's company Shadow Light had been hired for the project, and she'd worked her magic on Sophie. With makeup, she had sunken-in eyes and a more defined bone structure, and a ratty cotton dress and unwashed hair finished her look of poverty and neglect.
Lucia took a step back after everything was done, knowing I wanted to take this one.
"Cameras rolling," I announced. Ignoring the monitor next to me, I stood by Paul instead. "Action."
Sophie continued her pacing, and slowly but surely, her muttering and whispering became louder. She gestured with her hands and shook her head, at war with herself.
"They're wrong," she mumbled over and over. "I'm good for him." She spoke of her son, whom she was in no condition to take care of. "Nobody else, nobody else…" She stuttered a breath and walked over to her canvases. "My baby will see. You will see, baby—they're wrong!" she screamed.
From there, she lost it. She tore through her apartment and threw breakaways at the walls. Bottles, paint jars, cans, a lamp, and a chair.
I wanted close-ups of glass shattering against the wall, paint thinner splashing, and paint brushes landing on the floor.
"Mommy's gonna make it real nice for you," she cried. Reaching her bed, she yanked off the stained pillowcases and sheets. "They can't find us here, and when you get back, you'll see. It's our home. I'll make it pretty and safe because Mommy loves you, and—" She broke off on a sob and fisted her hair. "They don't know, they don't know…"
The meltdown continued, and I made a rolling motion to keep it going. Eventually, she reached the climax of the scene, and I felt it to the bone when she bent over and let out a blood-curdling scream.
I checked in with each operator, making sure they got that, and they nodded in return, slowly moving back the dollies the cameras were set up on. Only Paul stayed, and he jerked the camera to the side as Sophie ended up on the floor.
She panted.
Everything was quiet, the tension electric.
"Cut!"
She would get some good fucking loving from Tennyson after I sent him the footage.
"You aced it, sweetie." I walked over to her and helped her up off the floor. "You okay?"
"Yeah." She grinned and took a deep breath, her hands shaking. "God, that was draining. Did you get everything? I'm sorry I suck on seconds and thirds."
She sure as fuck didn't suck, but yeah, we got it. "You're a star." I kissed her on the forehead before returning behind the camera. "Moving on, people!"
I glanced over at Julian and grinned. His expression could only be described as passionate. In the moment, caught up. He scribbled quickly in his notebook while twisting a lock of hair between his fingers.