She kept her head down as she hustled to the costume trailer, and I didn’t blame her. She’d worked her ass off tonight. She deserved some accolades too.
I stood there for a long, long time, waiting for my turn to talk with Eamon, wanting to tell him how I’d felt the scene. I really had. And I’d sort of had an epiphany about myself as well, although I wasn’t sure what it meant yet.
In the end, I couldn’t wait. I snagged my dad’s old copy of the Elementia trilogy out of my trailer and curled up on the bench by the water. There was just enough light for reading. All around, the celebration of the crew was a hardy mix of whooping and delight. It was too bad that terrible reporter hadn’t stuck around. This was the real story—the movie coming together against all odds.
I opened the book to the chapter my brother had marked—the same one that had thrown me for a whirl while I was trying to record that song. This time I kept reading past Sevyn’s fever, past the revelation of her brother’s torture.
All the way to Nolan.
A veil of calm settled upon her, quieting the lightning in her heart. It was a comfort she did not deserve, and she bucked at it until her strength gave out. She needed the fire, needed it to scorch her guilt; it was all her fault that such a fate had befallen her brother. She should have saved him.
When Sevyn opened her eyes once more, the night streaked the sky with darkness. She was afloat in the cool waters of the river. Something gripped her shoulders and knees, and she reached for whatever she was stuck on, imagining a submerged tree or moss-covered rock.
Instead her fingers found skin.
Sevyn looked at the face of a boy who cradled her against the tide. His countenance was utterly wild, and yet he held her as though it were the purpose he knew best. Sevyn reached for him, telling herself that she was dreaming. Her virgin touch was charged with excitement, not lightning, as she felt the contours of his collarbone, the indent of his sternum, and the mounds of his ribs. When she reached for his face, touching his jaw and lips, she wept. This was a dream, no doubt. Her curse did not let her touch. This was the cruelest dream.
“You’re hiding,” Eamon said, slipping next to me on the bench, still all fantasy-outfitted and pointy-eared. His features were drawn out with makeup shadows and the spray stuff that had tanned every inch of him, highlighting a wide, wild smile.
“I’m reading,” I said, holding up the book.
He slid closer, looked at the cover like he’d couldn’t believe it, then me, then the cover again. Then he kissed my cheek. “I did it, Iris,” he whispered. “I can’t believe it. I was terrified.”
“You were amazing!” Some inner voice whispered to be cool, but I went full fangirl instead. “It was unbelievable, and I was so…I don’t know, maybe captivated is the right word, but I couldn’t even remember what country I was in, and I had to read the original scene. Shoshanna was great too,” I added.
“Iris, I know the two of us hanging out together looked bad, but she was only helping me with my role. I swear it.”
“I know, and you should thank her. She was pretty exhausted after the wrap.”
He nodded, his blue eyes were close, bright from the flood lamps illuminating the crew party at the picnic tables. “I’m sorry I was acting strangely this morning. I thought I was going to lose it when the cameras rolled. I was sure of it.”
I should have kissed him—his lips were right there—but my doubts rose fast, reminding me of how I’d hyperventilated in that recording booth. “How did you get yourself to do it?”
“I had to shut off the negative voices. It wasn’t easy, but I couldn’t let my doubts win.”
“Oh.”
“That’s why I had to come find you. To keep that bravery going and tell you I like you.” The tiniest frown formed on my face, and he read it fast. “And my feelings have nothing to do with M. E. bloody Thorne. Don’t even start.”
I squeezed the old copy of the Elementia trilogy. “Eamon, I figured out something while we were filming. You were right.”
He sat forward. “About what? Your rascally cuteness? Your musical prowess?”
I pushed myself forward, aching to be honest with him. “You were right when you asked me if I act like the abduction happened to Ryder and not both of us. I’ve never thought it was something that happened to me. It always felt like I just happened to be there. It was way safer to feel like a witness. To pretend like this couldn’t be my life.” A tear fell, and I wiped it away fast.
He wove his fingers with mine, and I wished he’d say something, but this wasn’t his problem to solve. This was all me. “It’s bigger than that day on the playground. I’ve been trying to eject myself from my own life this whole time, but I don’t want to do that anymore. I want to hit play.” I looked around at the crew, at his fantasy costume, at the gorgeous dark lake. “I want to be part of this.”
“Only one way to do that,” he said, so solemn I held my breath. “Elementia tattoos.”
I laughed and punched him in the arm, and he leaned in to kiss me.
“Iris!”
Eamon groaned, his lips nearly against mine. We turned to face my little brother.
Ryder held up a bowl of ice cream. “I’m designing sundaes for the crew. This one is special for you.” I took the bowl, and he pointed out all the additions. “Dark chocolate ice cream with coconut and a few crumbled cookie bits. I crumbled the cookie myself. Mr. Donato said it shows culinary ingenuity.” He sat on the bench, waiting intently as I took a bite.
“It’s great, Ry.” It really was. “Can I share this with Eamon?”
“Okay, but just a little bit. I’m going to make him a special sundae too. It’ll reflect his personality and individual tastes.” Ryder sprinted off, and I held out a spoonful to Eamon. He leaned forward, and I couldn’t even process thoughts as his mouth sealed around my spoon.
“Mmmm,” he said. “Tastes of consolation prize.”
I giggled. Things were different from when we kissed on the ferry. That had been spontaneous. Now it felt like we were going to kiss again because we had to—because gravity demanded it. I took another bite of sundae, savoring the dark chocolate and Eamon’s company and the potential that seemed to be everywhere all at once.
IRIS & RYDER
Film: Elementia
Director: Cate Collins
On Location: Day 7
Killykeen Forest, Ireland
Filming Notes:
Filming canceled.
ROAD TRIP
I knew something was wrong when I woke up. Something newly wrong.
I peeked through the trailer window. There was no hustle to the craft services area. No disputes about lighting or power cords. Nothing. I sat up and found Ryder gone. For once, I wasn’t scared. He was with Mr. Donato. I trusted that man. Or maybe the impossible had happened and I was now trusting Ryder. Either way, something was amiss—and it had nothing to do with my brother’s absence.
I found our film side for the day on Ryder’s bed. Filming canceled stood out in bold letters. I grabbed my phone and found a half dozen angry texts from Julian.
Holy shit, Iris
What the hell is going on over there?
What did I tell you about reporters?!
My hands started shaking as I replied.
What did I do?
It was the middle of the night in California. No way he’d respond…and yet his dancing ellipsis appeared instantly. I waited for what felt like five minutes, but in Julian’s swift texting, it was probably fifteen seconds. He sent a URL. I clicked it.
Family of famed high fantasy author M. E. Thorne speak out about the cursed film adaptation for the beloved first novel in the trilogy.
“Elementia,” which chronicles a young female heroine who must save her twin brother from demon elf-like creatures, is in production under the direction of Cate C
ollins (“Girls First” and “No Water This Year”). Filming on location in remote parts of Ireland, I caught up with the cast and crew for a look at a titanic adaptation on the brink of disaster.
Amidst the frustration and near-constant catastrophe, this reporter has confirmed that from the original green light, the production has suffered funding cuts and producer rollover. Iris Thorne (granddaughter of M. E. Thorne) spoke out about the attitudes on set. “They’re all a bit brainwashed.” She also admitted to dreaming “of having the film shut down.”
Thorne continued by pointing out that the cost of this epic seems to be falling on director Cate Collins. “She’s giving her all” and “works endless hours,” Thorne said. An undisclosed source at Vantage Pictures revealed that the studio has had doubts about Collins shepherding this project, wondering if a production of this magnitude and cultural significance should have been placed on her unproven shoulders.
What may have once seemed like a grand idea—to adapt the feminist answer to the Tolkien legacy and to ride the popularity of Peter Jackson’s “The Lord of the Rings” films—now seems post-iceberg impact but pre-sinking, even in the eyes of the famed, deceased author’s surviving family who believe she “wouldn’t have been pleased.”
Also Read: Julian Young to co-lead in high fantasy adaptation “Elementia,” alongside indie darling Shoshanna Reyes and unknown Irish actor Eamon O’Brien
I died a little, sinking into Ryder’s mattress, squeezing my phone. “That was all out of context,” I said to myself. Then I texted that to Julian. Twice.
He fired back:
Doesn’t matter. Damage done.
There’s more bad news. You should go talk to Cate.
I had a blinding urge to stay hidden in the trailer, but that was my fear talking. I could recognize it clearer and faster than ever, but that didn’t make it easier to quiet. I tied my dark hair back, hurried into my comfy jeans that hung low on my hips and my favorite, softest T-shirt. Time for comfort items. If I’d brought Mr. Mellow, my favorite childhood stuffed sloth, to Ireland, I’d have him snug in my arms right now.
Outside the trailer, my first thoughts were about Eamon. He was supposed to be filming with Shoshanna today. More Nolan and Sevyn scenes. I’d been excited to see them in action again. Maybe only the day was canceled, not the entire film. That was possible, wasn’t it?
At the edge of the green-and-gold lake, I found a small, grim posse made up of Eamon, Roxy, and Henrik. Eamon looked strange in street clothes, and his hair was so short it actually looked a little odd without the elf ears.
They watched me approach like I was the angel of death. Even Eamon.
My words tumbled out long before I reached them. “I said good things! She took everything out of context!”
Henrik held up a hand. “Of course you did. We all knew she had it out for us.”
“Then why did you make me talk to her?” I blurted. “Why make me ruin everything?”
“You didn’t ruin anything,” Eamon said fast. I stood next to him, a little too aware of his hands buried in his pockets. Unreachable. “It’s the damn Thornians. I think I now understand why you loathe them so much.”
“What’d they do now?” I growled.
“After the article came out, they started an online boycott of the adaptation. It has thirteen thousand signatures since last night, and it’s looking to go viral by noon,” Henrik said, his voice as grumpy as ever, his expression basset-hound sad.
“So we keep going forward. We prove those idiots wrong.” My fists went tight. I wanted to punch someone.
“It won’t matter,” Eamon said, deflated. He looked to Henrik, who shook his head. They looked to Roxy. She appeared almost plain today in a pair of overalls and a red flannel. She didn’t even have on makeup. And why were we all looking at Roxy?
“Shoshanna quit.”
I opened my mouth but nothing came out. Not even air.
“She’s already gone to the airport,” Eamon added. “She didn’t say goodbye to any of us.”
“Her talent agent thought she should get out before the really bad press hit. The boycott was the final straw though, not the article.” Henrik looked at me like this might make me feel better. Well, at least now I knew who I wanted to punch: Shoshanna.
Henrik straightened up and clapped Eamon on the shoulder. “Look alive.”
I turned to see Cate walking toward us. She looked a bit like Julian, dark sunglasses, leather jacket, folded shoulders. When her eyes fell on me, her steps slowed, and I wasn’t imagining it. “Cate, I’m—”
She shook her head, and I stopped talking. “No offense, Iris, but I’m not in the mood.”
Dead silence. Now there were five of us, standing on a glorious beach before a few million dollars’ worth of production equipment wondering what the hell to do. After a long, long moment, Cate said, “I think I’m supposed to be inspiring here, but I don’t fucking feel like it.”
Roxy snorted a laugh. Eamon cracked a smile, and Cate rubbed her hands through her buzzed hair. “I have to call the studio and let them know,” she said, more angry than sad. “I wanted to take one more stroll before my dream comes to a crashing halt.”
“Don’t,” I said.
Everyone stared at me.
“Don’t?” Cate asked.
“Don’t call them yet. I’ll go to the airport. I’ll talk Shoshanna out of leaving.”
“What are you going to say to her I haven’t already tried, Iris?” Cate pulled her glasses down her nose to look at me. I’d finally surprised Cate Collins.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “But she’s a nonbeliever, and I speak nonbeliever, if you guys remember.”
“Fluently,” Eamon said. I could tell two things in that one word. First, he was devastated. Second, he believed in me—or he wanted to. “It’s not a bad idea, Cate. I’ll drive her.”
I looked into Cate’s small, blue eyes, willing her to believe in me. “I won’t back down.”
• • •
For most of the ride to the airport, I was silent. Eamon was silent. Where would we begin? How do these things even work when your crush’s dream role and career as an actor is at risk?
“I’m sorry this happened,” I tried. “Do you blame me for the article?”
“I’d say we blame Henrik for letting a live wire like you near that reporter. I can only imagine what you actually said for her to get all those unflattering quotes.” His words had a bite, but it could have been worse.
“Hey, I said great things! About Cate. About Shoshanna, Julian. You.” I sighed. “I was trying to be honest. I said I hadn’t wanted to be here at first, but you guys changed my mind.”
He glanced at me from the corner of his eyes. “What’d you say about me, then?”
“That you’re amazing. Way out of my league.” Okay, I hadn’t said that, but it’s how I’d felt since I’d seen Eamon go all actor. He looked like he was going to argue, and I beat him to it. “You’re all sure of yourselves. You’re all trying so hard, and I feel like the biggest coward. The second I stepped on this set, I was smacked by all the ways in which I’m not brave like my grandmother, like Cate, like you and Shoshanna. Even Julian!”
“Iris, is this because you didn’t record that song? You’ll get there.”
“No, I won’t. Not unless I change something huge about myself.”
Keep going, that inner Cate voice said.
I took a deep breath and pushed into the truth. Into the lists that formed in my head all too often. “I’m afraid of anyone hearing my music. Or that I’ll read those books and like them. I’m afraid some rabid fan is going to jump out and grab me. Or Ryder. I’m terrified of disappointing my dad, and petrified that I’m going to exist in this shadow of a shadow forev—”
“Shadow of a shadow?”
“Grandma Mae is the shado
w over my dad, and my dad is the shadow over me. It’s double-dark inside. I can’t even play a song in front of someone because I’m terrified they’ll know how much I care about writing music. Then they’ll have this power over me.”
“I know how much your music means to you, and you still trust me.”
“You’re different,” I said. “I trust you, but I still can’t play in front of you, can I?”
Eamon frowned, his palm resting on the gearshift as we rose and fell and wound around the roads. I imagined sliding my hand over his, tangling up his fingers with mine. Instead, my eyes locked on the first sign for the airport, dreading what would come next. Success or failure. Movie or no movie. “I miss your fist-fighting hair.”
“Fistfight, what?”
“It looked like your curls were taking punches at one another,” I said. He laughed from the base of his throat, a sound I already loved, and I used that love to tell him what was crashing through my brain. “I only have four more days, Eamon.”
His eyes were fastened on the road, his voice full of nerves. “What if you went to college here? Then we’d have more time.”
“What if you move to LA and become a famous actor?”
He shook his head, his cheeks pinking. “I’d say that’s a bit forward to be thinking.”
“I don’t think so. You were brilliant. You lit up that scene, and there was something about the way it balanced out Shoshanna’s anger… It was like magic.”
“Like fantasy?” He winked, shuffling his hands on the wheel. “My ma has a saying. It’s a life policy, really. Do something that scares you every day.” He glanced at me. “I’ve been doing that as long as I can remember. The audition tape I made and sent to Cate? That was the scary thing I did that day. And yesterday? Well, yesterday I did two. One was to act. The second was to tell you how much I like you.”
Now a Major Motion Picture Page 16
