Off Screen

by Josephine Traynor

  The cabin is basic and is just perfect. It reminds me of my grandmother’s place when I was a kid. When I was allowed to be a kid, not the person my mother pushed me to be. I don’t have many good memories of my childhood but the ones I do have are from my time with my grandmother. We’d spend the morning at the beach and when we got tired of that, we’d sit around playing games till we got bored with them and go back to the water. Then we’d cook till there was nothing left to cook, then it was time to go back to the beach or go for horse rides or nature hunts where my grandmother asked me to find things. Never did find that beach unicorn.

  I’m not going to have a problem with staying here, unlike Princess Harrison. He’s been on the phone with Dominic the whole time it took me to bring the rest of my stuff in from the car and set up my kitchen. I say ‘my kitchen’ because Harrison brought nothing but a bag of clothes. He forgets that he’s in a small cabin and even though he’s not yelling, he sounds like he is. Harrison’s lack of lifting a finger to help doesn’t surprise me. The studio gives him an assistant to do his bidding while on set. No one else gets that luxury. Us plebes have to get our own lunches from the canteen. No canteen here, and he’s overwhelmingly underprepared.

  Thank God there’s a bathroom separating us. It’s understandable why the cabin has simple trimmings—you’d only need to be here to sleep. Speaking of phones, I haven’t been back to check on mine since we arrived and I plugged it into the charger in my room. I’ve been transported back to my childhood and hadn’t thought twice about checking any notifications. It’s when I pick up the phone, I see there are hundreds of alerts for Harrison’s name, why we were travelling together, and the exclusive press release about how we are on location to shoot upcoming storylines for the show has the net in meltdown. Seeing that we are trending at number one is going to piss off the execs, and no doubt, Harrison will spin this to me. We might be showing glimmers that we can actually get along, but I can’t let my guard down with him for a second. I’m about to put the phone down when I reply to Lydia’s text about arriving safely.

  Surprised you didn’t leave him on the side of the road. Saw Harrison talking to you, anything happen?

  I don’t answer her question right away, there’s nothing to say. Nothing happened last night. It never does. Harrison and I have this knack of being so rude to each other, bordering on cruel with our snarky comments, while there are some moments that feel like I have a real connection with him. I’ve pre-cooked my breakfasts and just need to cook up a few things and my meals will be ready for the week. I’m not sure what the catering meals through the day will be like now that we are on location and I don’t want to chance filling myself with sandwiches. Too much bread makes my stomach expand and I look pregnant. Not only is it uncomfortable, but it’s in everyone’s contract to maintain a certain weight. Harrison can eat pizza and beer and not put on an ounce. Me? That beer I drank last night has still got my midsection bloated.

  I pull on my yoga pants first, then my sports bra when there’s a soft knock at the bathroom door.

  “Just a second,” I call while looking down to adjust the cups over my breasts. Reaching for my shirt, I find Harrison standing in the doorway with the door wide open, staring at me. The only problem is, I’m staring at his bare chest and unbuttoned jeans. The elastic of his underpants covers the magical V. My tongue feels like it’s swollen to twice its size as I try to reconnect with my brain. “I said I’d be just a second.”

  “Sorry. Misheard you.”

  Even in the time of getting my shirt over my head, he’s still there, staring.

  “Did you need something?” I ask.

  “Towels.”

  “What about a mint for your bed pillow? I’m tempted to leave something dark and brown on your pillow, but it won’t be chocolate.” Gross thoughts. Gross thoughts. Don’t you dare think about him all wet and naked just a closed door away. “You might have to go ask your songbird.” It’s then that I make the point of unpacking my lush fluffy robe, along with my night robe in bright turquoise and lay them both on my bed. “I’m going for a run. Check the place out.”

  All I get is a nod in reply before I leave my room and head for the front door. My plan to go for a run is thwarted by the arrival of Allan and Clara getting out of their car just as I pull the front door shut.

  “Ah, Riley,” Allan says, tossing his keys gently in his hand as he approaches.

  There goes my plan for a run to burn off some of this nervous energy.

  “Hope you’re not fleeing the murder scene,” he says. “I told Harrison it wasn’t a good idea to house you two together.”

  “What?”

  Allan ignores me, so I press again. “What do you mean you spoke to him about us living together? Wasn’t it the executives’ idea?” Don’t tell me this was all his idea? “Where’s the rest of the crew staying?”

  “We’re staying on the other side of town in this horrible little place. Full of cockroaches. All right. A couple of things. Mobiles. We’ll need to take those. We need you two present here, not in internet land.”

  I turn my phone off and hand it over. “You do realise, by not having that, the chances of me hurting and finding a wonderfully deep hole to put him in have greatly increased,” I say.

  Allan laughs and shakes his head and approaches me. “You really should pursue a career in comedy, Riley. The things you say are hilarious. The trip appeared to be low-key until you stopped off to get petrol.”

  Talking with Allan is fine. It’s having Clara watch every move I’ve made that’s making me uneasy. Allan asks how the cabin is.

  “It’s simple, like my roommate for these two weeks. Do you have the script? What’s the plan?”

  “The crew’s setting up, we’ll have a production meeting but we’d like to sit with you and Harrison today to have your first session.”

  Living with Harrison is going to be hard. Talking about feelings and shit is going to be a fucking nightmare.

  “I’m not sure what Harrison’s doing,” I say while I open the door and come face to chest with the man himself.

  His hands catch my shoulders, and he quickly lets go, not before giving me a quick shove to the side.

  “Harrison is right here,” he says, oozing with cocky confidence, directing it right at Clara.

  Clara is beautiful, no disputing that. It hurts that he’s looking everywhere but at me.

  “Good to see you,” Allan says, while I head straight to the kitchen and pull out four mugs.

  If I have to sit through this, I’m going to need a ball gag to shut my mouth to stop all of the things I want to say from flooding out. Some of my resentment is even directed at Allan.

  “It’s great to see you, Clara,” Harrison says extra loud, and by the sound of her response, it catches her completely off guard.

  “Er, hi. Riley? Do you need a hand? The quicker we start?”

  “Oh, you can start, I’ll bring these over.” The machine is quick, but when you are waiting for it, it feels like it takes forever. When I’m able to join them, the two-seater is used by Allan and Clara. Harrison has taken the single seat. I have nowhere to sit other than on the arm of the single-seater or stand. I step the most annoying route possible and give him a nudge with my hip and make sure I’m blocking his view. While sipping from my cup, of course, Harrison has something to say.

  “See. This. This is what I’m talking about. Makes herself a cup.”

  So much for being friendly.

  I shift so I don’t have my back to him and he can see around me. “I was planning on making everyone one, but we don’t have time, apparently,” I say, giving Clara a stare. “But considering the coffee is mine and you didn’t bring anything to eat or drink … Happy to sell you a cup.”

  “All right,” he says while digging into his pocket.

  “Twenty bucks.”

  I had to work hard not to laugh at his reaction.

  “Twenty dollars!” Eyes bogging out of his head, mouth ago
g, he pulls his hand free of his jeans pocket. “This. This is what you’re making me live with.”

  “About that,” I interject before anyone else can speak. “What’s this I hear about you making sure that I was going to be your roomie? Hmm? You might want to take me up on my coffee now, inflation’s about to hit really hard.”

  “You know what you can do with your twenty-dollar coffee—”

  “Thirty.”

  “What?”

  Allan and Clara are desperate to jump in and redirect the conversation, but since I’m sitting right on the arm of the chair, towering over him …

  “The price for a cup now is thirty.”

  “You’re infuriating,” he says.

  “Thanks for the compliment. Means I’m getting under your skin. I’m in your head.”

  “Enough!” Clara yells. “Allan, we are going to need intensive therapy. Both individually and together.”

  As I turn my head slowly, I grit my teeth and glare at Harrison. In my mind, I’m smacking that shit-eating grin he’s giving to me, purely because they can’t see it, off his face. I curl my fingers, and it’s like my palm can taste the slap. It’s itching for it. The conversation is obviously over when Harrison gets up and goes straight to his room. My palm will have to wait.

  “It looks like you were going to go for a walk, Riley?” Clara says.

  “A run, actually,” I correct.

  “I know Allan wants to talk to Harrison privately.” She keeps talking while I look at Allan and wonder what he needs to speak to Harrison about without me there. “I have my runners in the car outside. I can go with you.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Shit. What did I just agree to?

  “Great. Give me five minutes, and I’ll be ready.”

  Giving her a nod, I wonder how it would be analysed if I took a five-minute head start. She returns with her bag and her runners, and I point in the direction of my room.

  While I have Allan alone, I push for information. “So, can I ask for a script as soon as possible? I’d like to be able to study the lines,” I start, and he holds up a hand to stop me.

  “We will be able to discuss this tomorrow. That way, everyone is on the same page. Thought after today’s stunt, the pin could be pulled, and we’d be all out of a job.”

  “That wasn’t anyone’s fault. As much as it pains me to let Harrison off the hook, we couldn’t have predicted that was going to happen, and if you did, the studio should have provided us with a driver or security.”

  Allan nods at a red-faced Harrison who rushes out of his bedroom and stops abruptly when he sees me talking with Allan. Just as Allan asks what’s wrong, my bedroom door opens and a smug Carla saunters out.

  This is going to be the fastest run I’ve ever done.

  Not only is Carla gorgeous and smart, she’s also fit as fuck. My heart feels like it’s pounding out of my chest whereas Carla doesn’t even sound out of breath. In fact, it seems as though she’s hanging back for me. She asks a lot of questions I’m not able to get enough breath to answer. Mainly about my childhood, and do I like working on the show? The slight incline is what does me in.

  Doubling over and placing my hands on my knees, I suck in deep breaths while Carla continues on a few metres before realising I’ve stopped. By the time she’s doubled back, I’ve stopped seeing spots.

  “I know you’re going for the ‘get to know me, be like a girlfriend’ thing. Girls don’t like me. For some reason, they don’t like me. I’m fine with my relationship with Harrison. We have our digs, he shits me, I shit him. That’s how we roll.”

  “You both seem invested in being responsible for each other’s ruin.”

  Standing to my full height, I look her straight in the eye. “He might think he can be my ruin. I will not let that happen.” I set off back towards the cabin in a walk.

  “The studio doesn’t think you can do it. They put you as far as they possibly could away from the studio while they work out their options.”

  Say what now?

  “The decision to do this was not made last night,” she says. “They’ve been stewing over this for months. This is it for you two.”

  “That’s why we don’t have a script yet? Isn’t it?” Those rat bastards were hoping one of us would walk and save them the hassle.

  She walks towards me and nods. “They are seeing if there’s any need. If you two can’t get along in this first week, they are going to write you out. You’ll be performing your farewell.”

  “Then they only have to write me out. Mister ‘I am the show’ is the show, remember.”

  She pulls a face as she sucks in her bottom lip. “Nope. He goes, too. He’s made a name for himself that’s just as unpredictable and temperamental as you. The studio has been putting out feelers, and no one wants to work with him. Actresses might want to be seen on his arm but they certainly don’t want to be running lines with him. Allan’s in there now telling him the same information I’m telling you. You’re at one of your forks in the road. Every person has several significant ones in their life. You could pull the pin and ruin his chance of working in this role again. The ultimate kill. You know you could. You’ve been successfully killing his career before you even worked together.” She tells me about how she spoke to our tutors and professors at the Academy. This woman has left nothing unturned.

  “You should be a detective.” I bend over and pick up a leaf off the ground.

  “It’s nicer to see into people’s heads. Your other option is to see what he’s like as a person and then make a decision to end him.”

  Damn her and her sorcery. I find myself wanting to talk to her now. “I think we are too far gone. I don’t think there’s any chance for us. We have too much history. Too much hate. He hates me. No one speaks like that to someone they have any kind of feelings for.”

  “Funny you mention feelings. Is there something you want to share with me? Anyone who’s watching the show would think that you’re truly in love with him.”

  Fuck. Do what you do best. “It’s called acting, and if you’re giving me praise like that, I’m doing my job very well.”

  “You also excel in being evasive. You’ve made it known that you want to leave before your contract is up. The studio will do whatever they can to protect their asset.” She holds her hand up to stop me from talking.

  “Harrison.”

  “No. The show. They could get any actor they want to fill your roles. They believe you could make magic if you could just get along.”

  They are going to extraordinary lengths to make this happen. “Did he really ask for us to be housed together?” She answers me with a nod. “Everything’s a game to him. I’m too scared to let my guard down.”

  “And you think he’s not?” Her words sink in. “He’s scared of you. He’s threatened by you. Just as you are of him. I actually think there’s more to it. So the question is, do we sit down, work out the shit to find the light at the end of the tunnel, or do you toss it all away just to feed your ego? Hope you’ve both been working on your résumé.”

  Dropping the leaf, I go in search of an olive branch. If someone has to be the better man, I want it to be me.

  My bra is wringing wet, and Carla’s barely broken a sweat by the time we head back to the cabin. I definitely beat my time, I just feel like losing the contents of my stomach for it. My legs feel like lead, and I follow behind the bounding bunny who takes the steps to the front door of my cabin two at a time. Moving through the door, I see Harrison and Allan are sitting in the same chairs as before—the only thing now is, the confidence is gone from Harrison who sits with his head hung low and shoulders hunched. Slowly, he looks at me, and his face tells me everything I need to know. He needs this job just as much as I do to protect our reputations. His face gives me hope that we can indeed start afresh.

  Filling the coffee machine, I quickly tell everyone I’m going to get changed and we can sit and talk this one out. No one has moved in the time it took to give myself a quick
freshen up with wipes and a change of clothes. The coffee is brewed, and I carry the mugs over. Harrison holds out a crisp hundred dollar note.

  I lift an eyebrow to challenge him.

  Harrison says, “I’d like my ten dollars change, please.”

  Holding the mug out to him, I flick the note with my finger. “The first one’s free.”

  Allan shares a look with Clara who asks Harrison to sit next to me on the double seat.

  “Okay, so you’ve both been brought up to speed with the expectations. I have an idea of your past. I’m just not sure what prompted this great feud. I’m not looking at specifics. If something comes up, and I’m confident that it will if it needs to be explored or explained so the other person can understand why it’s an issue for them, we can put that on notice and work through it, but for now, I want to us to speak about how we can move forward. So, starting now, I’d like for you to pledge to each other that you are going to respect, and not only be professional, but possibly friends from this. That if there’s an issue, you’ll deal with it maturely—”

  I raise my hand and cut in. “Sorry, I’m still stuck on the word pledge. This isn’t a sorority house. We are two adults. He has his space, I have mine. I’m confident we can get through this without killing each other.”

  Harrison rises to his feet, walks around the sofa, and heads to his room only to return a few seconds later with his hands cupped. Poking out from his finger are items I recognize from the colours alone. White, blue, red, and black, and I realise that he’s holding my underwear.

  “Riley. I’m sorry for taking your underwear.”

  My mouth drops open for both the fact that he’s been through my stuff and that he’s apologising. I don’t get to say anything as he heads to my room. Through the door, I watch him pull the bedding off.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Fixing the short sheeting of your bed.”

  Clara claps behind me. “Look at this progress already. Well done, Harrison, for being the first to follow through.”