Page 98 of Beyond the Bright Lights

“We’re mimes now?” Ginger snorts.

“Apparently.”

Once the man is certain we understand our instructions, he leaves. I spot Mylan running onto the field with the rest of the cast. He stops to talk to Jensen and after about a minute, they both look our way.

Mylan flashes me his wonderfully white teeth then blows me a kiss. I catch it and store it in my purse. He winks and puts on his helmet.

Ginger bumps my shoulder with hers. “You okay?”

“I am. What about you?” I noticed how wide her eyes got when Mylan ran out.

“I’m not going to lie; he looks like Tyler in that uniform. It’s creepy.” She laughs and shudders.

I lean my head on her shoulder and she rests her head on mine. We stay like that until minutes later when the production crew starts belting out commands.

Mylan and his movie-teammates huddle and Jensen yells Action! A boom mic hovers as they say their lines but we’re too far away to hear the words.

They do the huddle scene over and over again before moving on to action shots of the game. After at least a dozen takes of that, possibly more since I wasn’t counting, the crew resets and they shoot the exact same thing but at a different angle.

Five hours of fake yelling, quiet cheering, and miming our conversations, I'm exhausted. They announce a lunch break, which I take with Mylan, Ginger, Bruno, and Rebecca. We sit near the crafty tent at one of the many tables lined up for the cast and crew. Eloise pops in to snap some photos for social media then runs off to flirt with a tiny redheaded crew member who likely works in the props department based off the rolls of tape and a Fanny pack around her waist.

We take our seats back in the stadium after lunch (I ate some marinara pasta dish with sausage and Mylan had a light meal—grilled chicken and veggies—since he has to run up and down the field for the next several hours).

My heart starts racing and I find Ginger’s hand, taking hold and squeezing hard.

“Ow, bitch.” I loosen my grip.

“Sorry but look.” I nod my chin at the end-zone.

Ginger follows my line of sight, confused for a moment until it sinks in.

“Oh,” she whispers. “They’re ready to film the collapse.”

“Yeah.” I let out a shaky breath.

When Tyler collapsed that horrible night, Ginger was as much of a mess as I was. How she was able to drive us to the hospital is beyond me.

After thirty minutes of getting the background actors in place, and the shots finalized, filming begins.

The first time Mylan collapses, I hold my breath.

When Michelle Miller runs out to the field and falls to his side, my tears begin to well.

When movie-Rebecca tries to tug movie-me away, my tears fall.

When the ambulance arrives and the movie-medics load Mylan into the back, something strange happens.

I stop. I stop crying. My chest stops hurting. My throat stops aching. And . . . I’m okay. Going to set for three months became easier, but I knew this scene would be the hardest. I knew it would be a test.

A test that I passed because I'm okay.

Jensen yells cut and the crew resets, the actors return to their marks and then they shoot it all over again. Then again and again at least twenty more times.

Each time, I watch the memory of the worst day of my life.

Each time, my grief retreats further down to that box I plan to keep it in.

This memory has now been captured on the big screen to last a lifetime.

---