Finding June

by Shannen Crane Camp

  CHAPTER 14

  Seven o’clock on Thursday morning seemed so far off when I left the set on Monday, but as I stood in front of the makeup trailer, ready to start my next day of filming, I found that it had come quickly. Right when I entered Candice’s station, Ryan and Benjamin exclaimed, “New Girl!” enthusiastically from the couch. Both were flipping through magazines and drinking coffee from cardboard cups, while Candice sat smashed between them on the small sofa.

  “We got you a hot chocolate, New Girl,” Benjamin said as he nodded at the only cardboard cup remaining in the cup holder.

  “Thanks guys,” I answered appreciatively, picking up the cup and letting it warm my hands. I took a seat in the makeup chair but swiveled around so I was facing my three friends. “So, anything exciting happen while I was gone?” I asked, trying to make conversation, since Candice didn’t seem too motivated to start on my hair and makeup.

  “The costumes were a lot less fun to scrutinize,” Candice said dryly.

  “True,” Ryan agreed.

  They were all silent for a moment, indicating that there hadn’t been a whole lot happening in the past two days.

  “Candice put a plant in the trailer,” Benjamin offered lamely. I looked over at the small green potted plant, unsure of what it was.

  “We call it 'The Little Steamer,'” Ryan informed me.

  “I see,” I said slowly, thinking of what else I should say. “And why do you call it that?”

  “It’s a thyme plant,” Benjamin said simply, while I continued to stare at him.

  “Thyme reminded them of time,” Candice began, talking as if they were children and she was trying to convey to an adult that we should act impressed by their line of thought. “And time reminded them of a pocket watch, which reminded them of steampunk, which made them call it The Little Steamer. I’m sure they thought they were being clever,” she finished sarcastically.

  “Candice hasn’t had enough coffee yet,” Ryan said with a tentative glance in her direction.

  “There’s not enough coffee in the world to help me put up with you two,” she shot back, finally getting up off the sofa to start on my hair and makeup. She pulled out her black binder, which held the shooting schedule and told her what makeup I’d need for each scene.

  “I’m doing all precinct scenes today, right?” I asked, trying to remember what scene came first but finding that they were all getting jumbled together in my mind.

  “Yeah, so first we’ll need you in your stage costume. It’ll be the scene right after Edward’s murder,” she answered, never looking up from her black binder but letting her dark red lips curl up into a smile, showing her amusement at the costume I’d have to put on again.

  “Hey, that means you get to act with us today, New Girl,” Benjamin said happily, setting his magazine down on his lap. He exchanged a sly glance with Ryan, who smirked back at him. I watched them suspiciously.

  “Whatever you guys are thinking right now, stop. You’ve got these shifty little glances going back and forth and I don’t trust them at all,” I warned.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ryan said in mock innocence.

  “I think maybe New Girl needs to start drinking coffee as well,” Benjamin chimed in.

  “You guys are impossible,” I said with a sigh. They continued to grin at me, making me feel even more wary about doing a scene with them. “I don’t see what you could do to mess me up. I don’t even have lines with you.”

  “Ouch,” Ryan said in reply.

  “Thanks a lot, New Girl,” Benjamin added in a hurt tone.

  “They added a few lines to the script yesterday,” Candice explained, handing me a blue script and returning to pining up my hair in the same style it had been on Monday.

  “Oops,” I said innocently, looking over at Ryan and Benjamin, who were pretending to pout. Glancing over the script quickly, I saw where the new lines had been added. I now had a small interaction with Ryan and Benjamin while sitting in the precinct waiting to be questioned by Charles and Cutter.

  “You’re going to wish you had been nicer to us once we start filming, New Girl,” Benjamin threatened while Ryan nodded gravely.

  “Candice, can’t you do something about the two of them?” I joked.

  “Don’t you think that if I had any control over them, they wouldn’t be hanging out in the makeup trailer all day?” she asked in exasperation.

  “We’re a force to be reckoned with,” Ryan exclaimed proudly.

  “An oncoming storm,” Benjamin agreed.

  “Great,” I sighed.

  Soon after I grabbed a quick bite to eat at craft services and got into costume, I met the rest of the cast at the set of the precinct. It was an odd experience to see this well-known set in person. It looked almost exactly like it did on TV except that the ceiling and a few of the walls were missing. Other than that, I really felt like I was at the police station. The thing that amazed me the most about the set was all of the little details that made it feel real, but probably went unnoticed by the viewers. There were half-empty coffee cups, coats on chairs, and even stacks of papers on desks that I took the liberty of rifling through when no one was looking. They were all filled out as if they were police work that needed to be filed. It was simply incredible.

  “Excuse me ma’am, but you aren’t authorized to view those files,” I heard Benjamin say right behind me, making me jump about a foot in the air.

  “You scared me to death,” I said breathlessly.

  “What are you even doing?” Ryan asked, never far behind Benjamin.

  “I wanted to see if there was writing on all of the papers,” I admitted sheepishly. “You know, instead of just writing on the first few and the rest left blank.”

  “Why?” Benjamin inquired.

  “That’s a good question,” I said. “To which I have no answer. I was just curious.”

  “Works for me,” he said, shrugging and walking over to a table filled with food and water bottles.

  “I see you’re in the costume again,” Ryan pointed out sympathetically.

  “Yeah, I can’t seem to avoid the costume,” I agreed heavily, sitting in a chair at one of the prop desks. Ryan perched on the desk and folded his arms.

  “It’s really not that bad,” he said. “I think the fact that you come off as being so innocent kind of makes it less sexy and a bit more costume-y, like you’re only wearing it because it looks vaudeville.”

  I looked down at the costume with its lace and feathers and felt, for the first time since I had put it on, that maybe he was right and I didn’t need to be so embarrassed. It was funny how different he was when he and Benjamin weren’t bouncing jokes off of each other. He was still goofy and lighthearted, but he also seemed more focused on putting me at ease than making jokes when he was on his own.

  “So, I’ve been wondering something since I met you at the table read, but I don’t want to come off as . . . I can’t even think of the word. Nosey, I guess would be the best way to put it,” Ryan said, spinning the watch on his wrist around and around as he spoke.

  “That’s a scary way to start a question,” I joked. “But go ahead.”

  “Are you a Mormon?” he asked, whispering the word "Mormon" as if it were taboo.

  I paused for a moment and assessed my current situation. Ryan seemed like a nice guy, so I couldn’t imagine him making fun of me or being disrespectful about my religion. At the same time, though, I'd had tons of friends who I thought were really down-to-earth and friendly who ended up getting weird when I told them about my religion. As if there was really something so odd about being LDS.

  “Yeah, I am. How could you tell?” I asked, wondering what had given me away.

  “Well, first there are the obvious ones: not drinking coffee and being so uncomfortable in revealing clothing.”

  “But those could easily be attributes of a non-Mormon as well,” I pointed out.

  “That’s true. But I had a Mormon friend g
rowing up. You can just tell. I realize that makes me sounds really weird and creepy, but it’s the truth. You actually remind me of him a lot,” Ryan said warmly. “That's a good thing,” he added quickly, seeing that I was trying to work out the intent of that statement.

  “So you’re okay with it, then?” I asked cautiously. “I mean, you’re not going to go off on a political rant or tell me all of the reasons it would be easier to not be Mormon?”

  “From what I can tell, you haven’t tried to push your beliefs down anyone’s throat here, so why should we do that to you?” he said logically, instantly scoring major brownie points in my book. “I don’t have a problem with most lifestyles as long as they aren’t looking down on me for not joining in.”

  I smiled up at Ryan for a long while, glad to be met with so much respect and maturity from someone I hadn’t known for that long. His way of thinking perfectly matched mine on this point, and I couldn’t help but wonder why more people didn’t feel the same way.

  “I’m glad to hear you say that,” I admitted truthfully. “Honestly, for some reason a lot of people get kind of . . . hostile, when they find out. Like I’ve told them I’m against breathing or something.”

  “Yeah, I’ve seen that. I think those people have either had a bad experience with an overbearing Mormon, or they believe everything they read about them.”

  “Which normally comes from anti-Mormon websites . . . so that’s a good source of information,” I remarked sarcastically.

  “It’s not fair, but that’s why I admire you for being a caring, decent human. I think that speaks volumes about your religion,” he said with a smile.

  "Thanks Ryan. I really appreciate that,” I replied sincerely. He grinned at me for a moment longer before clearing his throat and changing the subject.

  “So, do you have your new lines memorized yet? Or line, I guess I should say,” he asked. “Because Benjamin and I will be testing you thoroughly.”

  “Testing me on the actual line, or just testing my patience as usual?” I countered with a smirk.

  “Ah, probably a little bit of both,” he laughed.

  “Yeah, I could have guessed.”

  “Ryan,” said the angelic voice of Lukas Leighton at such close proximity that I started. I hadn’t even seen him walk up behind Ryan and then there he was, his voice friendly enough, but hinting at something commanding and dark. “I think it would be best if you went over your blocking with Benjamin again. He seems to be confused.”

  Ryan kept his eyes trained on me the whole time Lukas spoke, his expression never changing from one of neutral attention.

  “Okay,” was his only response. He didn’t say it in a rude or sarcastic way. He didn’t even sound annoyed, really, but there was something about the way he had given his short answer and left without saying goodbye to me or making eye contact with Lukas that made me wonder if he was as fond of him as he had once appeared.

  “Sorry about him. He likes to talk a lot—forgets what he’s actually supposed to be doing sometimes,” Lukas said apologetically. I hadn’t been annoyed by Ryan’s presence, but this comment made me wonder if sitting around talking with him had made me look unprofessional.

  “That’s okay. I probably wasn’t doing much to get him back on track, really,” I said guiltily, trying to convey that Ryan hadn’t been unprofessional all on his own.

  “Well that dress didn’t help matters, I’m sure,” Lukas joked, giving me a winning smile, which instantly melted my heart. I couldn’t think of any response, or at least I couldn’t get my mouth to work one out, so I just smiled stupidly up at him. “I’ve missed having you around the set these last few days,” Lukas said, leaning against the desk where Ryan had been just seconds before.

  “Really?” was my brilliant response.

  “Yeah. I actually wanted to text you, but then I realized I don’t have your number, which doesn’t make any sense,” he went on as he pulled a phone out of his pocket.

  “No sense at all,” I babbled, grinning like an idiot. Was Lukas Leighton really asking me for my phone number? Me? A nobody he'd only known for a few days?

  “Number?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at me in a beautifully quizzical way as he passed me his phone. Even those facial expressions that would make other people seem goofy looked like perfection on him. I typed my number into his extensive contacts list, trying not to concentrate too much on the fact that he was watching me with a faultless grin.

  “There you go,” I said shakily, passing his phone back and feeling giddy at the way our hands touched when he took it from me.

  “I’ll text you later with my number,” he said, answering my unsaid question just as the director called for everyone to take their places. He walked away from me, but looked back just once to bless me with his perfect smile and a sly wink.

  *****

  The first scene had gone smoothly all through my questioning with Charles and Cutter. Will Trofeos was a terrifying person to be in the room with when he was in his Charles Bagely mode. Lukas seemed to be the same person as his character Cutter, so that wasn’t as jarring as having Will trying to scare me into a false confession. The scene was a bit exhausting, but by the time we finished I felt really good about the performance I had given.

  As confusing as it was, we then moved on to shoot the scene right before I was brought into the interrogation room. In this scene I was supposed to be sitting down on a bench, waiting for Charles and Cutter to come collect me after filling out some paper work. Before they would show up, however, Ryan and Benjamin (AKA Rich and John) would come up to rattle me a bit and say a few clever lines as per usual. This was a scene I was nervous about. I wasn't worried because I had just been given the lines that morning; it really wasn’t a particularly difficult scene, seeing as how I only had one line. I was mostly nervous that Ryan and Benjamin would follow through on their unspoken threat and do something to mess up my performance. By the time everyone was in place and we were ready to begin shooting, I was a nervous wreck. Bates, the director, was quite impressed by my condition, mistaking it for a good bit of acting.

  “Just keep that tension up June. You’re doing great,” he shouted from behind the glaring lights.

  “Okay,” I responded meekly, not sure what I was doing that he wanted me to keep up.

  “And, action!”

  I sat on the bench, looking around at the precinct with wide, worried eyes, half acting as Imogen Gentry, and half being genuinely scared for the inevitable "oncoming storm" that was Ryan and Benjamin.

  The two boys sauntered up to where I sat, looking suspicious and mildly amused at the same time. I definitely didn’t like the looks of this. They both wore dark slacks and white, button-up, collared shirts with their badges hanging around their necks. Benjamin looked me up and down, and then spoke.

  “Well, if it isn’t the femme fatale herself,” he remarked coolly.

  “I guess it’s true—vaudeville is dead, isn’t it?” Ryan added, matching Benjamin’s tone. I watched them warily for a moment, trying not to notice how much like their characters they really were. They sat down on either side of me on the bench, much like they had the first day I met them at the table read.

  “So, why’d you kill him?” Benjamin asked, leaning in close and making me feel very uncomfortable.

  “Wasn’t enough ‘quiet on the set’ for you?” Ryan put in, leaning in just as close as Benjamin. The only way I could avoid looking at either of them was to stiffen my back and look straight ahead, and even then they were dominating my peripheral vision.

  “I didn’t kill him,” I answered quietly, letting my voice quaver a bit as if I might cry. I furrowed my brow and bit my bottom lip, still keeping my gaze trained firmly straight ahead.

  “I’m sure you didn’t mean to kill him. Maybe you just got tired of being sawed in half every night,” Benjamin suggested.

  “Tired of being dropped in the water tank or put in the disappearing box,” Ryan provided.

  �
��So you filled the disappearing box with gas to make him disappear . . . permanently,” Benjamin said in a low, threatening voice.

  “Guess he should have asked for a volunteer from the audience,” Ryan remarked darkly as he rested his chin on his hand. Both of their faces were only inches away now. I had never thought of myself as a claustrophobic person, but being crammed between those two while already being a huge ball of nerves was definitely steering me in that direction.

  “Now they have to call in the Vaudeville Vice,” Ryan concluded, just inches from me. Had I not been so paranoid about what they might do to mess my scene up, I might have actually enjoyed the hilarity of the whole thing. Ryan and Benjamin were masters of comedy. The way they said these ridiculous lines in such a straight way made them infinitely funnier, but I could hardly concentrate on that when I was keeping watch for any sign of trouble from them.

  “Knock it off, you two,” Will Trofeos said in his thick accent as he and Lukas walked into the scene, their presence seeming to fill the room with authority. Ryan and Benjamin automatically pulled away from me and stood up from the bench. “We need to bring her in for questioning,” he added, nodding to me as an indication that I should stand up and follow him. I did, glad that I was able to get out of the scene without Ryan and Benjamin doing something horrible.

  By the time we had left the "room," the director had called cut and the entire set was full of people and noise. I walked over to Ryan and Benjamin, looking at them skeptically.

  “All right, what are you guys playing at?” I asked. They exchanged innocent glances back and forth. “You know what I’m talking about.”

  “New Girl, we wouldn’t actually try to ruin your take. We were just joking,” Benjamin said seriously.

  “He speaks the truth,” Ryan agreed.

  “Yeah, I still don’t believe you,” I informed them, shooting the pair a piercing look to let them know I was on to their games as we reset to shoot the scene again.

  As fate would have it, we shot that same scene a handful of times and not once did Ryan or Benjamin do anything to throw me off. This, of course, threw me off even more. By the end of the scene I was a nervous wreck, which I let Candice know so that she could make sure they were properly punished. Of course, I knew that Candice’s idea of punishing them would be to simply ignore all of their funny comments, which she did anyway.