Page 24 of Shine For Me

Fox

The start of an on-location shoot always feels a little bit like summer camp. Staying in a new place, hanging out with new people, cast and crew members happy to be away from their responsibilities at home. Those first few days feel exciting and hopeful, before the grind of actually shooting a major motion picture set in.

The lobby of the best hotel in Wilmington, North Carolina feels that way when I arrive to check in. We have most of the hotel rented out for the first several weeks of the shoot, before we move production to the Outer Banks to do some more intensive shooting on the beach. Several members of the cast and plenty of the crew all arrived in North Carolina today so the lobby is crowded and chaotic while I wait for a production assistant to give me a room assignment.

I pull out my phone while I wait and shoot a quick text to June. As far as I know, she got in last night so she should be settled by now.

Me:Hotel is a mad house. I’m starting to feel pretty damn jealous of your rental, Miss Movie Star.

I see her typing dots start bouncing immediately.

June:Actually, I scrapped the rental house. I’m staying at the hotel, too.

I blink down at my phone, surprised. In every film we’ve done together, June has stayed in her own private house. One of the perks of being Jimmy Cain’s granddaughter, I guess. I visited her at the rental for our last film, a sprawling villa on twenty private acres. The place was nicer than my parents’ house, and their mansion in the Pacific Palisades is nothing to scoff at. Why in the hell she would forgo that kind of comfort and luxury to stay in a hotel with everyone else makes little sense to me.

Me:Who are you and what did you do to my friend June?

June:Haha.

June:The rental house was an hour outside of town. I would have spent half my time commuting. Not what I want to do after a 16 hour day on set.

Me:Good point. So where did they put you?

Me:Let me guess. You got the nicest suite in the place and they punted me down to an economy room to make space for you.

June:Poor little Foxy. The horror of staying in an economy room!

June:No, ass. I didn’t ask them to move anyone for me. Standard suite, just like you.

I grin down at my phone.

Me:Juniper Cain, living amongst the little people.

June:I hate you.

At that moment a harried looking PA approaches with my room key. I thank her and make my way to the elevator, saying hello to a few familiar faces as I go. I haven’t been around long enough to know many crew members but my dad and uncles would murder me if they knew I was rude to anyone making less money than me on a set.

The tenth floor is a hell of a lot quieter than it was downstairs. These rooms are probably reserved for the principle actors, many of whom won’t be arriving until later in the day or tomorrow. I find my room and am just getting out my key card when the door next to me opens.

“Oh,” a surprised voice squeaks, and I look up to see June standing there in the open doorway, an empty ice bucket clutched in her hands.

I blink at her in surprise. Juniper Cain is dressed in an oversized pair of sweatpants and an ancient looking Los Angeles Kings t-shirt with a huge hole along the hem. Her dark hair is up in a scraggly ponytail and she doesn’t have a scrap of makeup on. Even more surprising, she’s wearing glasses.

A huge grin breaks out on my face. “Look at you.”

Her cheeks immediately go red. “Shut up.”

“You wear glasses? How did I not know you wear glasses?”

“Shut. Up,” she practically growls this time.

“This is a good look for you. Why don’t you dress like this all the time?”

“I was taking a nap, asshole. My flight was delayed for like, three hours last night. Then it took two hours just to get to the rental and—”

I hold up my hands. “I’m not criticizing you.”

She scoffs. “Sure you aren’t.”