Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 145634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
I take a look around and everything’s familiar. These rooms are all the same. A bed, a desk, a makeup vanity. They’re all solid wood and decorated nicely although it’s made to be temporary and that’s more than obvious by the quick construction.
I always tell Mark, modern. I’m not quite sure what it means, but the rooms always come with enough to keep me occupied and comfortable for the first few days. And then I get antsy.
It used to make Mark squirm and get nervous when I’d leave the set. Especially when he first brought me on, taking a risk on the boy from New York with a bad rep but the talent and looks to make headlines in production. Bad boy turned movie star. He doesn’t give a shit anymore though. Like I said, I show up, do my job and get back to where I belong. Alone.
The small fridge opening catches my attention. I turn to see Mark bending down and listen to the sound of glasses clinking against one another.
He pulls out two bottles of pale ale and holds them up for me to see. “Just like you like it,” he says confidently.
I couldn’t care less about beer right now. I feel like a dick as I watch Mark take in my posture, as it slowly dawns on him that I’m completely uninterested.
I’m grateful. I really am. He found me the day I walked out of prison, at only nineteen years old. He gave me a life I don’t deserve and I hate that he’s looking at me as though I’m anything but happy for all he’s done.
“You name it, Nate,” he tells me, walking forward and putting the bottles down on the desk next to the fridge.
The words are caught in my throat, but her name is all I can think to say. The only explanation I can give.
His face is deadly serious as he stands right in front of me, nearly a foot shorter and looks me straight in the eyes. “You name it and I’ll get it here in no time.”
My teeth grind; my pride and something else, fear maybe, want me to shut the fuck up and just tell him everything’s fine.
But I’m desperate. And desperate men do foolish things.
“There’s a girl,” I start and then clear my throat. “A woman.”
Mark stares at me, waiting for more and ready to deliver. “Harlow May.” Her name is like a sin on my tongue. So sweet and tempting. The sound warms my chest and just saying her name brings a sense of peace about me. The anxiousness leaves me slowly as he nods.
“Harlow May,” he says and nods repeatedly, although his eyes stayed glued to mine.
“She was here in the lobby,” I tell him and my blood heats remembering how she looked at me. The fear in her eyes was the very same that was there when I last saw her. When I told her to stay away and never speak to me again.
“Alright, she was here and you want to …?” Mark questions and it pisses me off.
“I want to know why. I want to know everything about her,” I say and my voice comes out firm and absent of negotiation. I’m fully aware of how fucked up my request is. “I want her here,” I add. I don’t give a shit if it’s crazy. I couldn’t give a damn what he thinks. “Just make it happen,” I tell him words I hear these assholes tell their agents all the time. I’ve never requested anything from Mark, ever, but I need this. I need to know if it was really her.
“She wasn’t in the pilot, so if she is here, she’s no one important,” Mark says easily and then seems to think twice about his word choice. Maybe it’s because my eyes narrow and that uneasiness I’ve been trying to shake comes back full force.
“Give me five minutes,” he says as he starts walking briskly to the door. “I’ll know exactly who she is, where she is, what she’s doing, and who she’s fucking in five minutes,” he says and then flinches when my eyes flash with anger.
“I don’t want to know who she’s fucking,” I spit back at him and then regret it. Not because of how pissed off I sound, but because it’s a lie. I do want to know. I close my eyes and run a hand down my face in frustration as my head throbs while I listen to the door opening and closing.
I know she wasn’t in the pilot. He didn’t have to tell me that.
One episode down, and five to go for this season. If things go well and the show gets picked up for the next season, then ten episodes are tentatively slated for season two. Even starring in so many damn episodes, the shooting time is only thirty days. Television production is proving much faster than cinema.