Read Online Scar Flowers by Maureen O'Donnell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Maureen O'Donnell
Ads: Link
came out sweet as poisoned candy. She ignited her cigarette with an engraved silver lighter, flipped the lid closed to extinguish the flame, and snapped her purse shut as she exhaled smoke.
During their conversation, Karen had slipped back into her high heels. She walked with a slow roll to her hips and flicked ash on the lawn, as Celia materialized to carry her running shoes.
Nada. So Miss Karen was not so friendly after all.
But this was the same star of whom Celia complained, “Sweet Jesus, that girl even chews her fake nails! I have to buff and paint them every morning.”
Paul’s words from that morning: “You don’t know every-thing that goes on on this picture. Fran tells me all kinds of things. Like she thinks StarBorn’ll be sold, and she’d only fight to take Babylon with her to a new studio if I promise to stay on the project. If you want me to put in a good word for Mercer, you should give me more of your time.”
Leah dropped her plate in the bin and returned to her scene. John, the second-unit director, waved his hands as he spoke to Ricky: “If I nail the brawl sequence, Simon’ll have to let me direct the rest of the scene too. I mean, it’s a crowd scene; he doesn’t need to do everything, and it’s my chance to—”
He turned as Leah approached. Ricky leaned against a tree nearby, a smirk on his face as John said, “Ricky and I reworked most of your choreography over lunch. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?”
“That’s very kind of you, but no. I’d love to see what you two have come up with.” Her chest felt as if someone had tightened a belt around it.
“No, you should take the day off. In fact, you should take the rest of the picture off. My eight-year-old could’ve come up with something better.” John leaned in closer. “We’ll see what Simon has to say after I’ve talked with him about you.”
Chapter 6
Friday, May 26, 1:00 p.m. Day 5 of shooting.
“That was quite a performance you got out of Ricky on Thursday.” Victor, the leading man, lay sprawled on the couch.
“It was his idea, not mine. He’s a natural showman,” said Leah.
“Well, ol’ Rick thinks you hexed him.” Victor put his hands behind his head. “As long as everyone gets along, I’m happy. The last thing I need is another soap opera.”
The set of Julia’s living room huddled in the middle of the soundstage, three walls and no ceiling surrounded by wires, sawhorses, and racks of lights. In the shadows outside the set, Celia sat on a folding chair and knitted with a ball of hairy purple wool. Leah watched Karen rummage through the drawers of a desk, rattling and banging. Like a spoiled teenager searching for her parents’ cache of liquor.
Julia’s sculptures of her patients’ dreams adorned the room: a one-winged, bear-like creature; a three-faced woman; an obese cat whose cross-sectioned belly revealed that it was pregnant with human embryos. A decor designed to elicit reactions from visitors.
Simon and Brian the cinematographer walked in with the set designer, a silver-haired woman with a stack of notebooks in her arms. Leah’s heart leaped. Nerves. She had promised Paul not to disrupt his film.
T his was her first chance to work with Simon. A little over a week left before her bet with Paul came due.
“Thanks for waiting, everyone.” Simon dropped his backpack on the floor and resettled his baseball cap on his head as. The sparse beginnings of a beard fringed his jaw, and he wore black jeans and a purple T-shirt with a rip in one sleeve. Locks of hair stuck out from under the cap and curved against his neck.
“Reyna,” he said to the set designer, “this room needs more red. The sofa should be red leather, and the wallpaper is too shiny. I want a more intimate feel, modern but not flashy. By tomorrow. Julia and Blake, there’s your sofa, and the door will be over there in the corner.”
Simon pointed to the missing fourth wall, where the camera stood. Brian
During their conversation, Karen had slipped back into her high heels. She walked with a slow roll to her hips and flicked ash on the lawn, as Celia materialized to carry her running shoes.
Nada. So Miss Karen was not so friendly after all.
But this was the same star of whom Celia complained, “Sweet Jesus, that girl even chews her fake nails! I have to buff and paint them every morning.”
Paul’s words from that morning: “You don’t know every-thing that goes on on this picture. Fran tells me all kinds of things. Like she thinks StarBorn’ll be sold, and she’d only fight to take Babylon with her to a new studio if I promise to stay on the project. If you want me to put in a good word for Mercer, you should give me more of your time.”
Leah dropped her plate in the bin and returned to her scene. John, the second-unit director, waved his hands as he spoke to Ricky: “If I nail the brawl sequence, Simon’ll have to let me direct the rest of the scene too. I mean, it’s a crowd scene; he doesn’t need to do everything, and it’s my chance to—”
He turned as Leah approached. Ricky leaned against a tree nearby, a smirk on his face as John said, “Ricky and I reworked most of your choreography over lunch. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?”
“That’s very kind of you, but no. I’d love to see what you two have come up with.” Her chest felt as if someone had tightened a belt around it.
“No, you should take the day off. In fact, you should take the rest of the picture off. My eight-year-old could’ve come up with something better.” John leaned in closer. “We’ll see what Simon has to say after I’ve talked with him about you.”
Chapter 6
Friday, May 26, 1:00 p.m. Day 5 of shooting.
“That was quite a performance you got out of Ricky on Thursday.” Victor, the leading man, lay sprawled on the couch.
“It was his idea, not mine. He’s a natural showman,” said Leah.
“Well, ol’ Rick thinks you hexed him.” Victor put his hands behind his head. “As long as everyone gets along, I’m happy. The last thing I need is another soap opera.”
The set of Julia’s living room huddled in the middle of the soundstage, three walls and no ceiling surrounded by wires, sawhorses, and racks of lights. In the shadows outside the set, Celia sat on a folding chair and knitted with a ball of hairy purple wool. Leah watched Karen rummage through the drawers of a desk, rattling and banging. Like a spoiled teenager searching for her parents’ cache of liquor.
Julia’s sculptures of her patients’ dreams adorned the room: a one-winged, bear-like creature; a three-faced woman; an obese cat whose cross-sectioned belly revealed that it was pregnant with human embryos. A decor designed to elicit reactions from visitors.
Simon and Brian the cinematographer walked in with the set designer, a silver-haired woman with a stack of notebooks in her arms. Leah’s heart leaped. Nerves. She had promised Paul not to disrupt his film.
T his was her first chance to work with Simon. A little over a week left before her bet with Paul came due.
“Thanks for waiting, everyone.” Simon dropped his backpack on the floor and resettled his baseball cap on his head as. The sparse beginnings of a beard fringed his jaw, and he wore black jeans and a purple T-shirt with a rip in one sleeve. Locks of hair stuck out from under the cap and curved against his neck.
“Reyna,” he said to the set designer, “this room needs more red. The sofa should be red leather, and the wallpaper is too shiny. I want a more intimate feel, modern but not flashy. By tomorrow. Julia and Blake, there’s your sofa, and the door will be over there in the corner.”
Simon pointed to the missing fourth wall, where the camera stood. Brian
Similar Books
