Page 14 of Camera Stays On

“Here.” When I didn’t say anything he sighed. “Look, the roof is perfect how it is to shoot the movie. Let us all stay here during the shoot, and I promise I’ll make it worth your while, Ash.”

My brain was short-circuiting. He was selling the house? Everyone was going to be here for the duration of the shoot? I still wasn’t keen on having him film here, but the money was too much to toss up. That, and since he’d started focusing on the movie, he’d stopped talking about Andi. And I needed that reprieve. Since she’d come back for the funeral, that was all he’d wanted to talk about.

I couldn’t talk to my brother about the girl we were both crazy about.

We shook on his plan, and Sawyer did a fist pump when I let go.

“Fuck yes. Okay, now I can get things really going. I’ll start calling the people who want to audition. Plus all the other stuff.”

I walked into the living room. The house had come completely furnished. It was lots of whites and golds. When I’d seen it originally, I was a little irritated that I’d have to move all of this out for the haunt, but since apparently we’d be living here until fuck knows when, it was convenient to have beds and things.

I nodded to myself, the new plan making its way through my brain. We’d sell the house, move those things into storage, and live here until we got something new. In the meantime, we’d make the movie, work on the haunt, and then eventually sell all of this gaudy shit and move into a new place. And then, finally, we’d open my attraction to the public.

I returned to the kitchen, where Sawyer was.

“What else do you need to do?” I asked.

“I need to get the rights to the script, hire the crew, get all the equipment, and costumes. I’ve already got leads on the crew and equipment.”

I peeled back some plastic and rubbed my hand on the leather couch. “You haven’t gotten the rights to the script?”

He rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. “I’ll get it.”

I shook my head. “Come on, man. You’re going to host auditions without rights?”

“The right people aren’t going to join us because of the script.” He raised his camera. “They’re gonna see my talent and not care what the story is. I’m gonna make a damn good movie, no matter what it is.” He turned on his heel and left, leaving me to keep planning my future.

THE REST OF the week, I was in and out, getting things ready for my eventual haunt. I’d spent my morning in a crawlspace and needed a hot shower and a cold beer. I left the new property and headed back to the house. When I got there, I saw that Terrell had put a for-sale sign in the yard. Walking past it, I went inside and found Sawyer sitting in the living room, head in his hands, staring at a packet of papers on the coffee table. I was so busy doing what work I could do myself that I hadn’t seen much of my brother.

“You all right?” I asked, setting my keys on the hook.

“Yeah. I’ve been hosting auditions all week, and now I gotta start casting.”

“You got the rights to the script?”

He rolled his eyes. “It’ll come through. I always get my way.”

What an understatement, I thought bitterly.

“Well, I’ve gotta shower, and then I’m heading to Tilly’s. You can come if you want.”

“Tilly’s? Why all the way out there?” He looked up. Suddenly, I was thankful for the black dirt all over my body and face. It covered the heat in my cheeks. I shrugged and looked toward the staircase.

“I like the change of pace. Don’t know if you noticed, but Carly is kind of a bitch.”

“You’ve been going to that one for a few weeks now.” He stood, his eyes shifting, as if attempting to put pieces together. “Ever since that night you stayed over at that chick’s place.”

I swallowed deeply and forced myself not to look away. He studied me for a long moment as I sweated bullets, and then a slow grin spread over his face.

“Oh hell, Ash. Does she work there or something? Or are you just meeting her there?”

“I haven’t seen her since that night,” I confessed, swallowing the lump in my throat. Andi’s smile popped into my mind, gone as quickly as it came.

“Well, go up and shower. I’m gonna come with you tonight. Maybe she’ll show up.”

While I’d technically invited him, I hadn’t planned on him accepting the offer. I stomped upstairs, and when I came back down an hour later—showered, dressed, and ready to go—Sawyer was nowhere to be found. I wandered into the living room, calling for him. Wherever he’d gone, he’d left the papers on the coffee table. Curiosity got the best of me, and I went over, plopping down on the couch and grabbing the stack.

I scanned the first page, his ad. The movie called for six people; the only experience needed was improv. He’d put a little note in smaller print about how all types of appearances are welcome and encouraged to come audition. I was actually a little proud he’d chosen not to be a dick and body-shame in the ad. I set the paper down and flipped through the email responses. Many of the résumés had come with headshots. There were a few names I remembered from college, but otherwise it was all uninteresting. I reached the final page and saw it was a handwritten list of Sawyer’s.