Behind the Scenes

by Christina C Jones

  There was also plenty of security on site to make sure no one who wasn’t invited didn’t bring themselves anyway, and also to make sure nobody took it upon themselves to go roaming through my house.

  One drawback of having this event here.

  I was confident that it would be handled well though, so I wasn’t too worried. Not about that at least. What I was worried about, was the fact that people were going to be arriving soon and Logan was nowhere to be found, at least not out here.

  I had to go looking for her.

  I found her upstairs on my balcony, overseeing the last placements of party details.

  “You okay,” I asked, startling her, and she pressed a hand to her chest as she turned around.

  Beautiful.

  “Yeah,” she told me, with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  I raised a brow. “You lying to me now?” I asked, stepping out onto the balcony to grab her hand and pull her inside.

  “I’m not lying, I am fine,” she told me. “At least Loren thinks so.”

  I’d had to hear about Loren and what she thought enough times in a very short period that I immediately recognized the name as Logan’s doctor.

  “What do you have to talk to her about?”

  Logan opened her mouth to speak, then hesitated, clamping her lips together in a slight frown. “I was going to tell you after, so you didn’t freak out before this event. I was up here trying to mentally get myself together.”

  “Logan…”

  “I was spotting,” she admitted. “Bleeding a little.”

  That make my eyes go wide as fuck. “Logan, you’re bleeding, and you think I give a shit about this screening?! We need to get you to the doctor!”

  “No,” she shook her head, raising her hands to urge me to calm down. “We really don’t. Loren says it’s really common in the first trimester, and from what I described to her it was not enough blood to freak out about. I’m supposed to monitor it, and if it doesn’t go away or gets any heavier, then we need to see a doctor. Right now, it’s not information to freak out about. Which is exactly what I was trying not to do when you walked up here.”

  “You’re sure?” I asked, putting a hand to her stomach, down low where the baby – once it was an actual baby – would be. Her body hadn’t changed at all yet, at least not visibly. I knew she was more sensitive in certain places, but looking at her, nobody would know she was carrying a baby.

  Our baby.

  It was a little scary to think about, low key.

  “You know you’re talking to the queen of over-preparedness, right?” She teased. “I talked to Loren for the professional opinion, and then went to the internet for the varying contradicting theories of the masses. And on this, there is a pretty decent consensus. No worries, no doctor, just watch and wait. There’s a lot going on down there. All my organs being remapped and changed. And sir, you weren’t exactly… gentle with me last night. Remember?”

  Yeah, I remembered, and it was her damn fault.

  The things that woman had done to me on her knees had unleashed some…

  “It won’t be happening again,” I declared. “Not until after.”

  Logan’s brows furrowed together. “After what? I know you’re not talking about after I have this baby? I’ve already got plans for you tonight. I mean… not tonight obviously, while this is going on, but I’m definitely not going to wait another… however many months.”

  I sucked my teeth. “You really about to front in my face like you don’t know exactly how many months?” I shook my head. “As a matter of fact, exactly how many weeks?”

  “Days,” she admitted with a groan. “But anyway, treating me like I’m fragile? That’s not going to work for me. So, tomorrow during the daytime, I’m going to go see Loren, just to make sure. Not because you threatened to withhold sex from me though, I was already going to do this. And Loren knew it too because she’s already texted me appointment details.”

  “Good,” I said. “In the meantime, I want you off your feet, Ms. Byers.”

  “Pierre, you can’t be serious. I have a party to host. I need to go down there and check the decorations, I need to make sure the seating chart is—”

  “Logan, what did I say?”

  Her lips clamped together, and she shuddered a bit before she straightened her shoulders. “You said you wanted me off my feet.”

  “So next time I see you, you’re going to be where?”

  “Off. My. Feet.”

  “Thank you, shorty.”

  A deep smile spread across her mouth as I lowered my lips to hers. “I love you,” she said, which stunned me for a second because… damn.

  We had never said that before.

  But...

  “I love you, too,” I told her right back, with zero hesitation because it was true.

  I couldn’t pinpoint a specific moment when I knew, I just did. The only reason I hadn’t already come at her with it was because I was trying not to freak her out. It had been in development though… probably well before we even decided to stop the keeping it professional act.

  After the way she’d been at my side professionally, as a friend, and as a lover… how could I not?

  “Are you going to carry me down the stairs, since I’m not supposed to be on my feet?” she asked, with a teasing wink.

  “Oh, you must think I won’t?” I reached down, quite easily scooping her into my arms as she squealed. “I’ve had this ass up in midair while I made you cum before. Remember that?”

  “Of course I remember it, but please put me down before you go anywhere near those damn stairs,” she shrieked.

  I only did because I didn’t want her freaking out over whether or not I might drop her, and it turned out it was good, because as we descended the stairs, I quickly realized we already had guests.

  Nubia and my cousin Jeff.

  He was one of few Perrys left from my father’s side, and I didn’t fuck with him at all, even though he lived here in Vegas, and was the head news coordinator at WAWG.

  Back when my father died, Jeff had been a reporter, still looking for his big break. He got it, at what I felt was the expense of the family. He didn’t post any crazy pictures, he didn’t exaggerate anything, he just told the truth. Which… honestly kind of felt worse.

  I understood it was his job, and he felt he had a duty to not let bias keep him from reporting. But still… even though that story was now scrapped from any type of official outlet, those real, unexaggerated details almost felt more private, more hurtful than the crazy bullshit other outlets had run with.

  It was years ago, but I wasn’t sure I was over it.

  Especially knowing he’d done some other shady things to other people over the years.

  Nubia liked him though, which I didn’t hold against her. When he wasn’t on bullshit, he’d always been a cool, funny guy, with depth of knowledge about a lot, making him great to have a conversation with.

  It was once he turned in the fucking Black TMZ that turned me off.

  Despite all that, he was family, and since I wasn’t feeling any particularly negative visceral reaction to having him in my house, I decided to be cool, offering him a greeting, but not nearly as warm as the one I gave Nubia. I introduced him to Logan, who he was looking at a little too hard until I made sure he understood she was spoken for, which he already knew apparently. He claimed he just couldn’t get over how much more beautiful she was in person.

  She was, but I was already just expecting Jeff to be full of bullshit.

  At least until I found out why Nubia had brought him here.

  “Jeff is going to do a special feature on your show,” Nubia informed me. “It’s a big deal. The network was really pleased with the attention generated from the private screening, and they’ve done some market research and all that to see how excited people are for tonight’s premiere, so they want to put some real muscle behind this thing.” She leaned in. “Some real money behind this thing,” she
added, with a rubbing gesture with her fingers to further drive the point home. “So we’re going to get some footage from tonight which I think you already know about, right?”

  Logan put a hand on my shoulder. “Yes, I’ve already talked to him about that.”

  She failed to mention I wasn’t very happy about it, but whatever.

  “Oh good,” Nubia gushed. “So we’ll get that, we’ll get some footage on set as you’re doing the last episode, and then we’ll get some interviews with the other cast members, a few crew, and then footage from the wrap party. It’ll end up being an hour-long documentary type of thing. All that sound good to you?” she asked.

  Good?

  No.

  But I’d manage.

  I gave whatever permission was needed, and then Nubia and Logan walked off, leaving me to subject myself to a camera in my face and questioning from Jeff, who I still vaguely wanted to punch.

  I did what I said and kept my cool though.

  The questions were good questions. Really insightful, and nothing with any type of shady undertones. By the time I was done doing my part with that, the party was in full swing, and I managed to hunt Logan down for us to find our private seating for the show to start.

  It was a whole new level of excitement, like we hadn’t already seen it.

  Logan had arranged something on the screen where we saw updates from the various show hashtags as they were happening, across social media. Having already seen this episode at least a million times, that was almost more entertaining than watching it again.

  Just like the private screening, not everybody loved it.

  More than once I saw “sad”, “stuffy”, “pretentious”, and even a few “borings” thrown in there too. But what I had to believe though, was that those people were simply not my audience. Not that we’d created the perfect show, but it was certainly something I’d put my heart into, and I felt like that showed in the results. I was proud of what I’d put my name on, which was really what mattered in the end.

  But it was also pretty fucking dope that a whole lot of people loved it.

  A lot of people.

  By the time the premiere was over, we were trending across all social media outlets. The actors were beaming about the love that fans had been sending their way, and the way their follower numbers were climbing.

  Even Nick and Miko were on cloud nine.

  We really had made something special.

  And as much joy as it brought me to see everybody happy and all hyped up about the good energy generated from the screening, nothing topped the way Logan screamed when the credits were rolling at the end and she saw her name alone on the screen right after Miko’s.

  Third assistant director.

  It wasn’t technically the most accurate title, but it was more about making sure she was honored. After the way she’d gone to bat for the integrity of the script at the table read, the way she made sure everybody on set was taken care of, the little notes she’d whispered in Elodie’s ear between tapings without thinking anybody noticed… all of that, plus the countless other ways she contributed had made a difference, and she deserved the recognition for it.

  Official recognition, not just behind the scenes.

  “Very nice move,” Steph congratulated me about it later, quietly. I didn’t get a chance to respond before Logan and Nubia walked up, talking about the busy schedule for next week’s filming.

  I saw the exact moment when Logan realized she needed the restroom.

  One second, she was fine, sipping what I knew was ginger ale, but might pass as a real drink to anybody who was looking on. The next, there was this look in her eyes, a subconscious hand to her stomach, and a sudden tightening of her jaw.

  “Do you need—”

  “Nope, mingle!” she insisted, then turned to rush off, leaving me with Steph and Nubia, just as Elodie walked up.

  Before anyone else could say anything, Nubia looked me right in the face, and asked, “How far along is she?”

  El and Steph’s eyes went wide, surprised by the question, but she’s asked it so matter-of-factly there was no point in me denying it – not to them.

  “About ten weeks,” I admitted, quietly, after making sure nobody else was in earshot. “And… I’m scared as fuck.”

  “Aww,” Nubia gushed, pulling me into a hug before Elodie could get to me with a punch in the arm.

  “Wow, you’re keeping secrets like that, nigga?!” she asked, and I shrugged.

  “It’s early as fuck to tell people, in case… something goes wrong. And besides that, Logan and I really haven’t had this discussion.”

  “My bad,” Nubia cringed. “I just recognized that look on her face and had to say something. I’m sorry.”

  “Congratulations, man,” Steph spoke up. “Be prepared for that woman to work the endings off your nerves.”

  Nubia sucked her teeth. “Excuse you – I was a breeze when I was pregnant.”

  “You wouldn’t speak to me for most of it.”

  “Because you – you know what, let’s go, so I can cuss your ass out in private about it.”

  “It’s about to be some ass out, but not like you think,” Steph countered as they waved and walked off, to go do… married people shit, I guess.

  After they were gone, Elodie crossed her arms, pinning me with a scowl.

  “You better be glad I actually like her,” she declared. “I can’t believe you’re out here with a baby on the way, as much shit as you talk to me about being responsible.”

  I grinned. “You’re right, El. I’m a hypocrite. Only because I want the best for my little sister.”

  Shaking her head, she returned my smile with one of her own. “I’on know P… You’re having a kid with probably the most orderly chick on the planet, you’ve obviously been in love with her since I walked in on y’all in your kitchen that day, and you just premiered a bomb new show. And you’re still sober. I’d say you’re doing a pretty good job of leading by example.”

  Thankfully, the party was still going, so I didn’t have to process the depth of a compliment like that. Shaw walked up to congratulate me on the show, and I needed to give the same love back to him, and we talked for a bit before he led Elodie off somewhere, wanting her full attention for himself.

  Then it was just me.

  Just me, and my thoughts, in a party full of people, but I didn’t feel overwhelmed by it, or frazzled, none of that.

  Just grateful for everything that had happened, to arrive at this moment.

  And looking forward to whatever was next.

  INT, OFFICE, CASINO - NIGHT

  Jason is in his father’s office, after the funeral, seeking to

  quiet the noise of everything surrounding his father’s death. He’s quiet, thinking, then after a moment, slides open the desk drawer to reveal a bottle of Kimble bourbon, still sealed. The lights are low, tension is high – especially after the intoxicated crash that led to Jameson’s death, Jason needs to honor his commitment not to drink.

  He opens the bottle, smells it.

  * * *

  JAMESON (OFF-CAMERA)

  You’re already fucking up, I see.

  * * *

  JASON smirks, understands that this is not a ghost – just his father’s voice in his head, as critical as always. He puts the top back on but leaves the bottle on the desk.

  * * *

  TRACY bursts through the office door, smiling. She’s relieved to have found JASON.

  * * *

  TRACY

  There you are! Your mother is really… worried.

  * * *

  She notices the bottle on the desk, but JASON doesn’t explain. He doesn’t need to.

  * * *

  TRACY

  You’re gonna be ready to hit this party with me

  tomorrow, right?

  * * *

  It was still awe-inspiring to me, how a few words on a page ended up becoming something so much more layered once the actors got ahol
d of it. What I’d typed was nothing compared to the depth and emotion Shaw brought to something as simple as sitting in his father’s office with a bottle of liquor.

  The understanding and empathy Elodie infused into Tracy’s decision to not even make the bottle a big deal, the way she’d made her question about him attending the party this loaded thing that wasn’t even about the party, but rather asking… are you going to be okay?

  This was what got creators obsessed with their craft, and I was no different.

  This scene was really bittersweet.

  It was the last “real” scene – what would show last in the episode was the “party” – a cookout with Tracy’s family, where she was going to be introducing him to everyone, making things official between them. There at the party, her sisters and cousins were teasing her about not feeling like eating, with one sister taking it more seriously than the rest.

  She pulled Tracy aside, handing her a pregnancy test and ushering her into the bathroom.

  The test was positive.

  It would end on that scene, which had been the source of much controversy at the table read, and even now. I kept being asked about a second season, which wasn’t happening, because I’d told the story I wanted to tell, and had no plans to stretch it out.

  Even Jeff wondered though, in the closing interview with me for the making of the show special, if something like that wouldn’t be too frustrating for the audience, leaving the story “incomplete”.

  I shook my head. “A very wise man, and incredible filmmaker – my father – once told me that it took a massive amount of arrogance to ever think you were telling a character’s complete story. If you’ve done your job right, that character’s story is this enduring thing, that carries on forever. Graduating college isn’t the end, getting married isn’t the end, even death isn’t the end. All those things are just the beginnings of new stories, maybe happening outside my creative lens. It’s not up to us to tell a complete story – that’s not possible. Our job is to tell the story we see. Anything else has to be left to the imagination.”