Piper Day's Ultimate Guide To Avoiding George Clooney

by Vanessa Fewings

  “Lieutenant?” Brianna leaned forward. “What’s their status?”

  I pressed a fingertip to my imaginary earpiece. “They’ve withdrawn, Captain.” I peered at the fake screen. “Looks like they’ve been sucked into a black hole.”

  “Yay.” She laughed, and then saved her captain’s response with, “I mean a job well done, crew.” She gave a cheeky grin.

  We burst out laughing.

  I faced the panel again, studying the intricate detail of each screen, marveling at its authenticity. Pushing one of the silver-grey buttons, I was amazed it looked so real. I spun round to mention it to Brianna.

  There was white powder smudged on her right fingertip.

  “What?” She wiped her nose.

  As an ER nurse, having treated numerous patients with drug overdoses, I recognized cocaine when I saw it. Not to mention Brianna’s flushed cheeks, dilated pupils, and slight tremor.

  “Don’t be so prudish,” she said.

  “You know that stuff’s addictive, right?”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Oh yes,” I went on. “Not to mention it causes hallucinations, paranoia, and it can kill you.”

  “Okay. I promise not to take it again.”

  “Why don’t I believe you?”

  “We were having fun. Weren’t we?”

  “We were, yes, right up to the bit where you gave away your death wish, Brianna.”

  “I don’t have--”

  “Listen to me.” I closed the gap between us. “You’re sabotaging all you’ve worked for.”

  “You don’t even know me.”

  “I know this,” I snapped. “You influence young people. Girls buy your records and listen to your music and hang your poster on their walls. They look up to you. You’re their hero. Don’t lead them off on a pathway of self-destruction.”

  “Fuck off.”

  Unfazed, I added, “Besides, you’ll burn a hole through your septum and then you’ll have two noses to breathe through.”

  She burst into laughter.

  “Seriously.”

  “I shouldn’t have done it in front of you.”

  “I’m kind of glad you did,” I said. “I’m probably the only person who’ll call you on it.”

  She shrugged. “Cash cow gets what cash cow wants.”

  My hands rested over my mouth to cover my dismay.

  “What?”

  I wanted to save her, but at the same time sensed futility. “Brianna, can you imagine the greatness you’re destined for?”

  She looked away.

  “Or,” I went on, “imagine the people you can help if you focus on those in need.”

  “Bit preachy aren’t you?”

  “I’m just warming up. Best settle in.”

  She sat back, looking exasperated.

  “Brianna,” I said softly. “It’ll ruin your voice.”

  She snapped her head up and shot me a look of surprise, as though never having considered it.

  I leaned back against the panel and folded my arms across my chest.

  “What’s that?” she said.

  “It means we’re not leaving until I’ve gotten through to you--”

  “No, that?” Brianna leaped up. “Someone’s coming.” She shot toward the entryway and peeked around the corner and down the ramp. She leaped back. “OMG. It’s Director G.J. Reynolds.” Her eyes widened further. “And George Clooney’s with him.” Her face flushed with excitement.

  And so did mine, but with sheer terror.

  My gaze scanned the bridge, searching for somewhere to hide.

  On my knees now, leaning against the far wall, I dug my fingernails behind a large square panel and prized it open. Staring down the short tunnel, I didn’t waste any tim, shifting onto all fours and crawling inside.

  “What are you doing?” Brianna tugged on the back of my scrub top.

  “We can’t be seen,” I whispered.

  “Piper, I get away with all kinds of stuff.” She tugged harder. “We won’t get into trouble. I’ll talk us out of this.”

  “I can’t be seen.”

  “But you’re with me.”

  “It won’t make any difference.” I crawled farther into the tight space.

  “But what about what you told the guard?”

  “This is...different.”

  “Now I’m really confused.” She crawled in behind me and shoved the panel back into place.

  Sending us in to darkness.

  “And people call me strange,” she mumbled, scurrying to keep up.

  She snorted a laugh, then giggled all the way as she shimmied behind me. Together we crawled along toward the light, making our way to the end. Much to my relief, the panel slipped off as easily as the first, and I tilted it to ease in inside then handed it to Brianna. Scooting my body around, I slipped out of the tube, easing both my feet to the floor.

  Brianna turned round in the tube and eased herself down with my assistance. She shoved the panel back in place. “We’re like escaping convicts!”

  “Shush,” I told her, nervous Phil would reprimand us for being too noisy.

  “That was the George Clooney. Don’t you want to meet him?” She studied my face.

  I guided her away from the ship and we past Phil on the way out.

  “I’ve memorized my exits,” I said to him, trying to hide my breathlessness. “I’m ready now in case I’m ever needed here in an emergency.” A little over-cooked, I thought, but I was relieved to see Phil return his gaze to his phone.

  We soon found the golf cart again and sat in it.

  Brianna stared at me.

  “What?” I steered the cart back toward New York Street.

  “Everyone on the planet wants to meet him, except you.” She twisted in her seat to better look at me.

  “It’s kind of embarrassing.”

  “Are you kidding me? I’m queen of embarrassing. I once got photographed climbing out of a limo wearing no panties.”

  “Huh.”

  “You saw it?” She’d read my face.

  I pulled my mouth wide to emphasize I felt her pain.

  “Well then.”

  My shoulders slumped. “My friend was going through a personal crisis and I’d popped into my local store to restock our carb supply.”

  “Huh?”

  “I was wearing my PJs and slippers.”

  “Oh, the crime.”

  “There was a special offer on all things Clooney. You know, bobble heads, lip balms, chocolate bars.” I gave a shrug. “Proceeds were going to charity.”

  “He supports Darfur, doesn’t he?” She sighed.

  “Well I was doing my bit for world peace by picking up a few items of his... for a friend.”

  Her eyebrows rose high.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Seriously, he was in the store?”

  “Right behind me at checkout.”

  “And you think he’ll remember you?” She stared off as though considering it. “I don’t see the problem.”

  “Really, a girl has a basket full of items splashed with your face on them, and then coincidentally keeps turning up wherever you are?” My foot pressed the accelerator and the cart sped up. “It would creep me out.”

  “You think you’ll lose your job if he sees you?”

  “If he recognizes me.” I lowered my chin. “We talked. Or I did. Completely humiliated myself in front of him.”

  “George’s great at remembering names, apparently.”

  I shot her a look.

  “Sorry.” Brianna reached for the handrail and clutched it. “Faces too.”

  “This is your way of reassuring me?”

  We turned the corner, heading down Mayberry Street.

  She shifted in her seat. “I bet if you approached him and explained he’d be cool with it.”

  “Or he could have me removed from the lot.”

  “That doesn’t sound like him.”

  “It gets worse.”

  “
Worse?”

  “I ran over his standee right in front of him,” I confessed.

  “Why?”

  “It was an accident.”

  “Oh my God. That’s hilarious.”

  “I haven’t told anyone about this,” I said. “I’m too embarrassed.”

  “It’s our secret then.” Brianna patted my back. “Though to be honest I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about.”

  “This is my dream job. I can’t risk losing it.”

  “You’re too good at what you do for them to fire you.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Trust me. No one has ever called me on anything.” She looked at me. “It takes guts to speak the truth.”

  “You’ll think about what I said then?”

  She sucked on her top lip as though waiting for her next words to find her. “Sure.” She pointed. “You can drop me off over there outside Stage 8.”

  I navigated the cart in that direction.

  “Resident Hero is wrapping soon,” she said.

  “Not for two more weeks.”

  “Shouldn’t be too difficult.”

  “I know right,” I said, cheering up. “I just have to stay away from any interstellar travel and I should be fine.”

  “We did save the world from those pesky Cardonions. Earth will never know how close it came to DEFCON I.” Brianna winked. “I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun.”

  “It has been fun, hasn’t it.” My foot squeezed the brake as we pulled up to Stage 8.

  She leaned over and gave me a hug. “Thank you for allowing me to be me. I’d forgotten what that’s like.”

  “Sorry we had to make such a quick exit.”

  “Are you kidding me?” She hopped out. “That was my favorite bit.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Resident Hero - Day 56 OF 60

  Call Time: 07:00 am

  Shooting Call: 07:45 am

  Weather: Sunny

  Location: Stage 9

  Natalie’s forehead rested on the coffee room table in what looked like the ultimate head plant.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, pulling out a chair and sitting opposite.

  She peered up at me. “Yeah.” She rummaged through her handbag, removing her cell phone and peering at the screen.

  Silence ensued.

  To relay the awkwardness I too pulled out my iPhone and checked for messages. There was a text from Ellie. She was about to step into an audition and wanted me to think of her.

  “Knock um dead,” I texted back. “Remember they’re lucky to have you audition,” I added before pushing send.

  “I have to read opposite a really hot guy,” came her text. “It’s distracting.”

  I thought quickly, my thumbs deftly punching the tiny keys. “Think of him on the toilet.”

  There was a pause...”Thank you. I think. :/”

  The idea of it made me smile and then I remembered Natalie’s head plant and pulled back on the smile.

  “Um,” Natalie began, “could you go over to the Rosemount Building. There’s an executive over there who has just been diagnosed with diabetes. He’s asked for one of us to tell him a bit more about it.”

  “What type?”

  “Type II. So no insulin injections, which is good for him because he’s squeamish apparently.”

  “Sure.” I tucked my cell back in my bag.

  Natalie’s forehead was resting back on the desk.

  “Want me to bring you something?” I said.

  She looked up. “I have to go over to the childcare center and give a talk on what it’s like being a nurse.”

  “Sounds fun.”

  She frowned. “They’re four-year-olds.”

  “Oh, cute.”

  She shrugged. “Our job here is fantastic but out there,” she gazed through the window,” it’s a proverbial warzone. Patients shout at you. Come drunk into the ER and spit on you. Patients suffer. They die. Now how do I candy coat that?”

  “You kind of sound...”

  “Burned out?” she answered. “Once I got out of the ER and came here I made a full recovery.” She sighed. “It’s just that I hate the idea of even thinking about being back there.”

  “You could talk about how important caring is,” I said. “Angle it toward how fulfilling it is to know you’ve helped someone. Leave out all the scary stuff.”

  She raised her hand, palm open in a warning. “I’m terrified I’m going to permanently disturb them. Damage their little minds. Irrevocably. Their parents will sue me.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “I’m sure it’ll start off fine,” she said, “but half way through the talk I’ll lose track of where I am and start rattling off about what a dead body looks like.”

  “They look asleep,” I said, waving off her remark. “How about I go?”

  Her face brightened. “You’d do that for me?”

  “Love to,” I said. “How about you visit the executive with diabetes and I take on the four-year-olds?”

  She smiled with relief. “I hate public speaking. Thank you, Piper. I’ll make it up to you.”

  I gestured it wasn’t necessary. “It’ll be fun.”

  She checked her watch. “You have to be there in fifteen minutes. It’s Grayson James’ class. He’s very nice. Every Wednesday he invites an employee from the lot to go over and talk about their job.”

  “I’ll take a radio.” I reached for the spare one sitting on its charger, resting on the side table. “If there’s a medical emergency I’ll meet you there.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Take the small cart. I’ll take the large.” She rose from her chair.

  “I’m looking forward to it,” I said. “It’ll be a nice change.”

  “Sucker,” she said, and burst into laughter.

  I laughed too, chuckling all the way down the corridor.

  I drove across the lot, pleasantly surprised by how many people recognized me. Take Matt Farmer, for example, the set lighting technician from the sitcom “Dave’s World,” who threw me a big smile when I drove past. Yesterday, I’d distracted him while removing a small splinter in this thumb by getting him to talk about his visit home to Ohio.

  Farther on, right before the entrance to Stage 3, script supervisor Kelly Ambling was chatting away with another crew member. When she saw me she waved. She’d visited the department earlier today with a headache and I’d given her two Advil so she could continue the rest of her day comfortably. It was nice to see so many familiar faces.

  Once out of the golf cart, I swiped my ID to gain entry into the childcare center. During my orientation, Natalie had explained this was where studio employees dropped off their children for the day. Pausing inside the reception area, I looked around for a member of staff. The large orange sofa and several low chairs were kid-friendly. Stapled to the back wall were drawings, though many of them were difficult to make out. Picasso’s in training by the look of things.

  “Have you come to turn me into a lion?” a small voice asked.

  I turned to see a four-year-old boy standing in a doorway. His frown so serious it made me smile.

  “Um...no,” I said softly, hoping to reassure him.

  He looked disappointed.

  Right behind him appeared a tall, handsome young man about my age, wearing a towering red and white hat, similar to that in Dr. Seuss’s Cat in the Hat. His heart shaped face brightened when his piercing blue eyes met mine, and then his focus returned to the child, sweeping him up effortlessly and securing him under his left arm. “We have an escapee,” he said with a smile.

  “Hi, I’m Piper.” I waved hello. “I’m here to talk to about nursing to Grayson’s class.”

  “I’m Grayson.” He shoveled the child, better positioning him under his arm, leaving his legs dangling. Grayson held out his free hand to shake mine. “And this is Troy.”

  “Nice to meet you Troy,” I said, reaching for his small hand and giving it a shake.
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  Grayson held open the door for me.

  I went ahead, entering the noisy classroom.

  Twenty or so children were sitting on a blue matt at the front. A single book lay open in front of them as though Grayson had been reading to the children when Troy had bolted.

  Despite the classroom being a good size it was still cozy. There were even more posters in here. In fact most of the wall space was covered in impossible to decipher drawings with children’s names written beneath each one. In the center rested a low pine table and surrounding it were wooden chairs, and those too were child friendly. On the right was a black shelving unit which housed their personal belongings and was chock full of backpacks, toys, and blankets. Pushed flush against the far wall was a bookcase stacked high with communal books. Someone had attempted to tidy them, lining them up in a gesture of some kind of order. Though from the few scattered on the floor nearby it was a losing battle.

  Grayson lowered the boy to the floor and let him go.

  “Take your seat again, Troy.” Grayson pointed to where he wanted him.

  Troy plopped down in the front row, joining the twenty or so others. Their flushed faces, ruffled hair, and expectant expressions were a perfect picture of innocence. Two of the girls in the front row were holding hands and both of them were dressed as ballerinas. Their pink tutus seemed to have a life of their own. Patiently, the children waited for Grayson to continue.

  He took a seat opposite them on the mat. “Where’s Natalie?” He crossed his legs casually.

  “Um...she had to visit a patient.”

  “She’s here to turn me into a lion,” Troy told the others.

  “He wants you to paint his face as a lion,” Grayson explained and turned back to the children. “Actually, Piper’s going to tell us what nurses do. Remember last week we were lucky enough to have producer Derek Hatch here to talk about his job?”

  “Mr. Derek makes movies,” burst out one of the blonde ponytailed girls.

  “That’s right, Emily,” Grayson said.

  “He was bald,” Troy added. “My dad’s bald and my mom says it saves money on haircuts.”

  Grayson swapped a smile with me and patted the mat. “They’ll get a neckache otherwise.” He raised his hand to grab their attention. “Now, who here knows what a nurse does?”

  Several of the children raised their arms.