Page 35 of Camera Stays On

“The original script was for a possession horror. How are you planning on doing a wedding in a decrepit old house?” I waved my arm wildly at the house behind us. He ignored me and continued his train of thought.

“I already have my tux, and we found her wedding dress. We’ll make it work.” He started walking back up the stairs to go inside and paused. “By the looks of her, she kept the same shape. I can’t wait to start filming. You should read the script to see just how good it’s gonna be. No one can ruin this wedding.”

I stood in the dark yard, pacing, trying to figure out his plans. Something in his eyes when he’d said those words didn’t sit right with me. The dogs continued to bark, trying to get my attention.

“Properly make her my wife.”

I shuddered and went back inside, only for Juliet to hand me a stack of printed papers, still warm. I looked down and saw it was the new script.

Cunting Season.

I rolled my eyes.

He had to be kidding. This was his best writing?

This was worse than the other title.

“What?” Sawyer asked, smiling ear to ear. “You don’t like the title?”

“Pretty sure I saw that on a shirt at Spencer’s.” I tossed the script on the counter and went back outside for a cigarette. The very concept that Sawyer could write a story was wild to me. That unoriginal title was all the proof I needed that this was going to be a disaster. The dogs began to whine, so I went down into the yard and took them off their tethers. They flew up the stairs and into the house with complete abandon, excited to finally be allowed inside. They bounded through the house, finding the room with the most lights and noise. I followed behind slowly and stood by the door as they bombarded the crew with their wet kisses and cold noses.

“Are they good here? I might try to take a walk before I go to bed.”

Sawyer stood and came over. “You wanna check on Purdy first? Maybe you can calm her down. I tried to go up there, but she shut the door in my face.”

I looked back at the second-floor stairs.

“It’s Andi, Sawyer.” I shook my head. “Why don’t you give her some time to breathe?”

“We don’t have time, Ash. Someone put an offer on the house, and they’re giving me sixty days to move out. We have to wrap this movie up in thirty.”

My jaw dropped. Someone bought the house? Why was he just now telling me? My fists clenched at my sides. He was really starting to piss me off with all these surprises. “Which room is hers?” I asked. I needed to go scream about him to someone, and who better than the person who was also ready to murder him?

“It’s at the end on the right, between mine and yours. Figured putting her between us would keep her safe.” He winked.

Safe? More like, trapped. The irony was not lost on me. I nodded and left the room, heading upstairs. As I walked, I reflected on Juliet and how excited she was to bring up that old script. Was she in on this too? She’d seemed clear on her intentions with Sawyer at dinner, but now, I was unsure. If she wanted to be with him, why would she help him get his ex back?

As I started down the wing of bedrooms, I passed the doors, each with a name written on a sheet of paper taped to the wood. They really were lucky I’d just purchased this property. I’d studied film—horror specifically—for four years. For an indie film, this was a fucking palace. Not just as a set, but for housing while filming. Indie films didn’t have the budget Hollywood did. Having these extra rooms available for free instead of putting people up in hotels was gold. I paused at Andi’s door, lifting my fist to knock, but hesitated. Would she want to see me right now? I’d basically sided with Sawyer on the script. And I had to admit it was entirely for selfish reasons.

I wasn’t ready to see her leave again.

The last five years were hard for Sawyer, but they hadn’t been easy on me either.

Before I could muster the courage to knock, the door flew open, and a body hit me full force. The air left my lungs as the surprise caused me to stumble.

“Oh! Jesus, Ash! You scared me!” Andi stepped back and pushed her hair out of her face. Her face was puffy and her eyes red, as if she’d been crying.

“I—was just checking to see if you were okay.”

“I’m fine.” She looked around the hall, then up toward the ceiling. “I j-j-just hate Sawyer.”

“Do you want to talk?”

“Not here,” she said pointedly. “I don’t trust that he’s not watching the halls.”

“Fair. Let’s go for a walk.”

“Yeah, that’s where I was going.”