HDU #2: Dirt

by India Lee

  “He knows exactly what he’s doing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Liam ran his hand over his lips, eyeing Amanda with actual hesitation. “The scene probably won’t make the final cut. Terrence just wants to film it and bring the headlines back to the movie. People know I’m already banged up. This’ll get a reaction out of them.”

  Unblinking, Amanda could feel the fire absolutely blazing in her eyes as she stared at Liam. “You’re telling me that Terrence is risking your life worse than he did last time just to distract the world from us? For a scene that won’t even be used?”

  Liam exhaled, leaning against the dining table. After several moments of silence, it became apparent that he had nothing left to say. Amanda stared at him, at the bruises still visible on his body despite the hoodie, at the wrap around his left wrist.

  “If it makes you feel better, I’ve already gone this far for the movie, Amanda,” Liam finally said, hands in his pockets. “This scene isn’t much considering what I’ve already given up for Terrence,” he said, looking her in the eye. What I made you give up. Amanda swallowed, guilty. She looked down at her bare feet.

  “How long will you be gone?”

  “I’m flying out tonight. Terrence’ll be on my ass so I probably won’t get the chance to call as much, but I’ll be back in a week.” Liam pulled her in again and tipped her chin up. “Hey.” He smiled down at the faint pout on her lips. “I get why you’re mad. I think this whole thing is pretty damned stupid, too. But I’ve committed to this movie beyond a hundred percent at this point. If I already agreed to spend the next eight months sneaking around just to see you then doing this stupid jump is nothing in comparison. I’ll make sure I won’t hurt myself.”

  Amanda stared straight ahead at his chest, defeated as her fingers absently played with his zipper. “Fine,” she exhaled, offering a tired smile. “Maybe it’s better that you miss my first week back at Leadoff. I’m just going to be venting all week. That writers room definitely still doesn’t think I belong there.” Because technically, I don’t.

  “You’ll prove them wrong,” Liam said, earnest before his lips turned up in a smirk. “Maybe I should call Connor in the meantime. He’ll keep them in line.”

  “Yeah, no.”

  “I know. You can do it on your own,” Liam said, brushing Amanda’s hair back behind her ear. “You’re going to be fine.”

  I hope so. “And you better be too. If you get hurt, I’m flying to location and coming after you. That is not a joke.”

  “Hope I get hurt then.”

  “Liam.”

  “I’m kidding. I’ll be fine.”

  “Good.” Amanda nodded, trying to convince herself that everything could in fact be completely smooth sailing. She returned to resting her head on his chest, a small smile twisting her lips as his hands crept under her shirt to rest on the bare small of her back. “Well let’s just survive this week and report back to each other when it’s over. I’m sure everything will be okay.”

  Chapter 13

  Again, didn’t get the memo.

  Willing her cheeks to stop burning, Amanda quietly opened the door to the writers’ room, surprised but hardly shocked by the fact that everyone was already inside and engrossed in some serious conversation that no one had bothered informing her about. They hardly looked up at her when she walked in, dragging a chair over to take a seat at the tight space between Bird and Skip, the latter of whom audibly groaned the second she sat. Dick.

  “Amanda. Hi,” Tom finally said, glancing at her briefly before turning his tense attention back to the papers before him. “I guess we should fill you in on the fact that ZINC has ordered us to completely rewrite our sixth episode. Three days before our premiere party and a week before our television premiere.”

  Amanda raised her eyebrows in surprise. “The sixth episode… isn’t that our season finale?”

  “Technically, since we’ve only been picked up for a half season thus far.”

  “Didn’t we already shoot the sixth episode?” Amanda asked, ignoring the round of low groans from the table of writers, who’d apparently had enough of her questions after just two.

  “Yes, we already shot it,” Tom grumbled. “And ZINC would make us reshoot the whole season if they didn’t already spend all that cash on it. Now, they’re giving us seven million for the sixth episode, which is our last chance at saving the whole show and making Milo edgy and interesting enough that the network would be willing to invest in the rest of the season,” he sneered, nodding out the window. “Up the drama so he can be as raw and strung out as those two Legacy girls on the Cinereel billboard. Because ZINC would rather have no show than a show that is even slightly rivaled by one on Cinereel.” Tom tossed his pen aside. Amanda had never seen anyone look so defeated. Eyes downcast, he drew in a deep breath. “Which means we’re selling out already. If we don’t come up with something dramatic enough for the network, we’re not getting picked up for the second half of the season,” he said all in one exhale.

  Amanda’s eyes blinked wide. For some reason, she had never anticipated that her job with Leadoff would ever be on the line for reasons of cancellation. Tom Vogel was a TV legend, he wasn’t supposed to get cancelled — even if the media was beginning to peg him as a bit too subtle and slow-paced for the new generation. But as she scanned the room of writers too dejected to speak let alone make their usual jokes, Amanda could tell that cancellation was actually more than probable.

  “I’m… sure we can think of something,” she finally said, though she immediately regretted speaking at all when all the writers shot her a look as if she were an idiot.

  “Of course we can think of something,” Skip said, brushing bagel crumbs off of his beat up Yankees jersey. “It’s just a matter of whether or not it’s a shitty enough idea to appease the idiot audiences today.”

  Tom heaved a sigh and clarified. “Audiences now just want is to see instant drama and drugs and sex and skin, which is apparently what Casey is delivering. So yes, we can think of something. We just need to ruin the integrity of this script and dumb ourselves down about a hundred notches.”

  “So, maybe it’s a good thing we kept this one after all,” Fish muttered, nodding toward Amanda. Amanda couldn’t stop herself from shooting him a look, which prompted halfhearted snorts from around the table.

  “Fish.” Tom managed a tired warning.

  “Seriously though.”

  Amanda felt her skin prickle in anticipation of a confrontation. “Seriously what?” she forced herself to challenge Fish, who turned to her with dull eyes while the rest of the room looked up with reluctant curiosity.

  “‘Seriously, you weren’t hired for your writing skills, you were hired because you’re a twenty-three-year-old tabloid princess who had a chance of helping us attract the younger demographic. Also known as the idiot demographic that can’t sit through an hour of TV without nine sex scenes and at least two people taking their shirts off for no reason.”

  Amanda cursed her reddening cheeks. “How old are you anyway?”

  “Twenty-seven.”

  She snorted.

  “Go ahead and laugh but I worked hard for my job, unlike you,” Fish said, leaning back in his chair and looking deliberately relaxed as he turned the bill of his baseball cap backward. His flannel button-up fell open to reveal yet another Brown University T-shirt. “I was an intern less than a year ago and now I’m a story editor. Because I know what good TV is and good TV isn’t the type of crap that is loved by the same people who made you famous. It isn’t stupid bullshit that requires no development or thinking, that’s just bam, bam, bam, sex, drugs and nothing else.”

  Amanda glared, in awe of Fish’s self-absorbed arrogance. And presumptuousness. “You’re right. I didn’t get my job the same way you did but that doesn’t mean I have no idea how to do it,” she said between her teeth.

  “True. You got my coffee right last week, so props for that.”

  Are yo
u kidding me. Stunned, Amanda could only stare at Fish, who returned to clicking around on his laptop with boredom. Once quiet resumed for more than two seconds, Amanda dared to peer around the table, none too surprised to see everyone either smirking or holding back laughter. Meanwhile, Tom rested his head in his hands at the end of the table. Finally, he heaved a sigh.

  “Amanda.”

  She looked up, an eyebrow cocked.

  “I…” he groaned. “I know this is the shittiest timing in the world but I’m about to implode if I don’t down like, three shots of espresso right now.”

  Amanda stared, ignoring the tittering of the grown men around her. Now you’ve really got to be kidding me.

  “I’m sorry, really,” Tom mumbled, rubbing between his eyebrows. “Just get a venti Dark Roast with a couple shots of espresso and then like, plain coffees for the rest of these guys. We won’t let them pick and choose their orders today,” he said, as if it made her Starbucks run so much less degrading. Amanda could hardly believe what she was hearing. Despite fighting it, she allowed herself to peer up at Fish, who continued clicking away on his laptop but now wearing the smuggest smile that she’d ever seen on someone who wasn’t playing the Joker in a Batman movie. Jesus, this room really could not hate me more, she realized with bitter awe. And this day could not possibly get worse.

  “Use this company card,” Tom said, handing over an American Express. “Honestly, I’d do it myself ‘cause I could use the fresh air,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “But I need to stick around because our saving grace is arriving any second.”

  Amanda squinted quizzically.

  “Our new consultant,” Tom clarified. “He’ll be arriving any second now. You might know him, actually.”

  Amanda paused as she stood from her chair. “Really. Who?”

  Her jaw clenched as she took an educated guess as to who might become the newest member of the Leadoff staff. Actually, I was wrong. This day could very possibly get worse, she realized as Tom casually answered her question.

  “Connor Shaffer. He’ll be joining this writers room from here on out.”

  ~

  Squeezed into a corner table, Amanda stared at her two trays of grande coffees. She wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting for or how cold the drinks were getting but she was almost positive she didn’t care. She needed some time before going back to the writers room, especially if Connor was going to be in there. Amanda could already imagine him fitting right in with the guys. He’d be right there with them, condescending to her and treating her like a brainless child.

  And sending her on these horribly degrading coffee runs. The one thing Amanda could be grateful for was the lack of paparazzi today.

  “Um… Amanda Nathan?”

  Interrupting her thoughts was a small, male voice she had never heard before. Forcing herself to blink for the first time in what felt like minutes, Amanda looked up in confusion. Standing before her was a familiar blonde boy whose face she couldn’t place for the first couple seconds.

  Ah, she realized upon noticing his ill-fitted button-up, brittle posture and shaky hands. My fellow office bitch.

  “Hi,” Amanda offered as much of a smile as she could muster. “On a coffee run?” she asked, trying but failing to brighten her voice. Before the boy could answer, the barista’s shout made him jump.

  “Jake!”

  Standing suddenly at attention, Amanda watched the boy rush over to the bar to pick up his drinks. She tilted her head, noticing that he walked with a limp. For some reason, it surprised her. Perhaps because he looked to her like some form of an athlete — an oversized gymnast or ballet dancer, maybe. Though he obviously wasn’t.

  Once he retrieved his trays of drinks, Jake returned to Amanda. She knew her smile was visibly sympathetic — pitying even, but she couldn’t help it. The kid was just a nervous wreck. “Your office must be treating you as horribly as they’re treating me,” Amanda mused with a dry laugh.

  He managed a smile. “Um, no, not really, they’re cool. But I actually, um, work in the same building as you. Waltman Global.”

  Amanda raised her eyebrows. “Oh. For which company?”

  “Um, Klein Sports. It’s a sports management company.”

  “Cool.” Amanda nodded, suddenly wondering why Jake had approached her if he seemed so reluctant to speak. “So…” She hoped for him to fill the silence but he didn’t. Still on edge, Amanda couldn’t help blurting out her question. “Is there anything in particular you wanted to talk to me about?”

  Jake’s blue eyes fluttered nervously. “Um, yeah. I, um…”

  As he stammered through his sentence, Amanda’s eyes drifted over his shoulder and past him. “Oh God, paparazzi,” she muttered under her breath before turning her attention back to Jake. “I’m sorry, don’t let me interrupt you.”

  But it was too late. With a quick glance over his shoulder to confirm the paparazzi, Jake all but dropped his trays down onto Amanda’s table. “I, uh, have to go,” he said hastily, panic wide in his eyes. Instead of rushing out the door as Amanda had expected, however, Jake ducked his head and covered his face as he speed-walked into the Starbucks bathroom.

  Amanda stared, bewildered. What the hell just happened? Picking up her trays of coffee for the writers room, she stood up, ready to return to the office.

  Leave it to that weird kid to always make me feel better about myself.

  ~

  “Jesus Christ. I can’t believe I ever thought I’d stand a chance in this industry.” Ian laughed quietly to himself as he sat with Amanda at the window of the Midtown bagel shop across from the Waltman Global building. Having slipped out of her house before sunrise again, Amanda had found herself with hours to kill before work actually started.

  And she had also found herself with a text message the second she emerged from her cab. At 5:25AM.

  From Casey.

  Morning doll ;)

  Just two words and again, it was enough to strike immediate fear in Amanda’s heart. After several seconds of spinning every which way on the sidewalk in hopes of spotting Casey, she eventually ducked into the nearby bagel store — the only place open on the block. Hiding behind a poster on the window, Amanda had spent the next twenty minutes switching between paranoia and self-ridicule. Holy shit, she’s watching me! But maybe she’s not. This was just good timing — it’s Casey, after all.

  Eventually, Amanda had caved and called Ian just to have someone to stay sane with. Lucky for her, he was the type to rise at the crack of dawn these days. Within twenty minutes of her call, he had arrived to keep her company, under the impression that Amanda needed to vent about Leadoff. That was what she had told him anyway, wary over starting his day with some panicked Casey-related story. After all, it could very well have been a random, well-timed text.

  Though probably not.

  Regardless, Amanda did her best to talk to Ian about less stressful topics — less stressful for him at least.

  “Man.” Ian took a swig of his coconut water as they both sat behind the safety of the giant Boar’s Head poster in the bagel store window. “Those writers all sound like a bunch of assholes.”

  Amanda nodded as she tore off a piece of her sesame seed bagel. “And the biggest asshole of them all is Liam’s best friend. Which is just awesome.”

  “Why don’t you just tell Liam that Connor’s being a dick to you?”

  Amanda frowned as she chewed. “He hasn’t done anything blatant enough thus far. And I don’t want to give Liam another reason to worry about me. He has enough to worry about himself considering Terrence Rambis is out to get him killed for the glory of his movie, basically.”

  Ian pushed his salad around with his plastic fork. He shook his head. “Crazy what people will do to promote their movies,” he mumbled. His gaze lifted up at the billboard across the street. “Or shows.” Amanda studied Ian as he eyed the Legacy billboard. Just minutes ago, it had still been blown out by the light of the rising sun. Now
, with the sunlight blocked behind a building, the picture of the strung out stars was perfectly visible before them. Amanda winced at herself. Probably shouldn’t have picked this place to sit, she realized. She peered over at Ian, as he shook his shaggy hair into his eyes.

  “Ian.” Amanda chewed the side of her nail. “Are… you actually okay these days?”

  The question prompted him to give her a brief look of surprise. “I’m as okay as I can get, which isn’t bad.”

  “I’m sorry I reminded you about Casey.”

  Ian laughed. “Dude, I’m the one who’s sorry. She should’ve outed me along with you and Liam. Harper’s been trying to help me past my guilt these past few weeks. I feel like I got away scott-free.”

  Amanda gave him an incredulous look. “I wouldn’t say that. She’s screwed us both equally at this point,” she grumbled, realizing how much of the bad in her life was thanks solely to Casey — her wavering reputation, her separation from Liam, the possible cancellation of Leadoff, the prospect of soon being jobless and unhireable. She couldn’t help the odd look she flashed Ian when he shrugged.

  “Everything happens for a reason.”

  Amanda felt her face contort. “Ian. What good has possibly come out of either of our situations with Casey?”

  “I met Harper.”

  She blinked, a little stunned. “Harper is worth all the mess you got into in the past six months?”

  “I wish none of it happened because it was the worst, most embarrassing time of my life,” Ian replied. “But the good thing about getting to your lowest point is knowing that you won’t get worse than this. And then you think about all the bad shit you did and you realize who you really are. And who really cares about you because they’re still around after the mess you’ve made.”

  “And in Harper’s case, she showed up because of the mess you made,” Amanda laughed quietly. “Which says a lot about her, I guess.”

  “Yep.”

  Amanda wiggled her pursed lips. “Well, hopefully, this is the worst, most embarrassing point in my life right now because I can’t imagine a situation more humiliating than the world reading my old Internet comments while waiting for me to get forced back to living in Merit. Or anything more shitty than being so far from Liam all the time.” Amanda flicked a sesame seed off the table. “I didn’t think I’d miss him this much this fast.”