Page 42 of He's The Reason Why

Rachel blinked at the sudden intrusion of harsh glare but maintained her overly sunny smile. “Tell Marshall I’m still waiting for that drink he promised me, and be sure to send me the script. I want to be ready for you.”

“Okay, people, it’s time to get a movie on,” Tamar called out. She was standing on one of the office chairs by the soundboard while Jeanette held it steady. “Voices, please migrate into the studio. The rest of you, places, please.”

Piper stopped Blake before they went through the door. “You did great. That song is perfect.”

“Thanks.” He watched her, curious. Piper had been so full of confidence up until this moment. “What’s wrong?”

“I have to live up to my side of the deal now,” she said in a low voice.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”

She looked up at him with a playful expression. “I hope I’m better than that.”

“Me too,” Rachel said as she sailed past them into the studio.

Unlike the smaller space where they’d laid the track for the songs, this studio was a massive room where five microphones hung suspended in a line above five podiums with enough space between them that carryover sound wouldn’t be a problem.

Scorchedposters featuring each character hung on the wall behind each microphone to indicate where they should each stand. Jesse/Blake was center left, while Jewel/Piper was center right.

Rachel, he noted, was last on the right, so far away from him she might as well have been in a different room. She glared at her microphone like she might set it on fire.

“Since Jeremy isn’t here, let’s do the sisters first,” Paul announced. “Is that okay with you, Tamar?”

“I’d rather work on the longest scene first,” Tamar said. “Where is he? I thought that helicopter would mean he’d be on time. He’s the only one who didn’t have to sit in traffic.”

“Calm yourself, I have arrived.” Jeremy slid into the room and did an athletic little spin. “It is a glorious day to kidnap a princess, my minions. Let us make haste.”

“Glad you could make it, Sorcerer Malignon,” Tamar said. “Let’s start with the final scene since everyone’s in the room, then Jeremy and Rachel’s short scene, and then the sisters. That should take us to lunch I think.”

Paul nodded. “Yes, I think so. Or after, depending. I’ll go get the heads sorted. Remember, everyone, the feed is live, so please get into character and have fun with this, okay? The more expressive you are, the better the animation will be.”

Paul waved and left the room. Blake could see him talking to the animation department heads on the other side of the glass with wild gestures. He could only imagine what they were being told.

Jeanette and the other booth engineers were already in place behind the boards, ready to capture everything they did for later playback. The booth was filled with more people than it was designed to hold. He guessed this first session, with so many big names in one place, had drawn a crowd.

“It’s weird to think they watch everything.” Piper raised herchin toward one of the cameras in the corner. “Makes me paranoid. Like if I scratch my nose they might animate it later.”

“They might,” Gina said as she took her place. “They might animate what’sinyour nose, too.”

“I would never give them a gesture so mundane,” Jeremy said. He rubbed his nose vigorously with both hands until his entire body gyrated, then he winked at them. “Bigger is better.”

Piper laughed.

Tamar held a copy of the script in one hand, her glasses in the other. She paced back and forth in front of them like a general addressing her army. “Thank you all for being here, and for giving your best efforts to this project. I don’t want you to focus on how behind schedule we are, or how alarmingly close we are to the premiere. I want you to have fun, and I don’t want you to feel at all pressured by the people who are anxiously waiting for the award-winning performance you give here today.”

Blake suppressed a smirk. He appreciated Tamar’s sense of humor. She had a genuinely kind soul, but he knew underneath it lay a spine of steel and a deadly desire for perfection. “So you’re saying this is for the record, then. Because I thought we were still rehearsing.”

Tamar stood in front of him and slid her glasses on. She managed to look down her nose at him despite being several inches shorter. “And you…I will not tolerate any of those antics you and Marshall used to get up to as children. We are all adults here, now.”

He tipped an imaginary hat. “Yes, ma’am.”

She patted his cheek. “That’s my boy. Let’s do a dry run first. Pick up with the line ‘I hope your new friend keeps her promises.’ And go from there.”

Tamar crossed to a small couch sitting under the window to the control booth and sat. “And…action.”

The dry run took longer than he would have thought to getthrough. Tamar kept stopping to give direction, or Rachel would interject with her ideas for how someone else should play their character. Piper, he noticed, was a lot stronger than she’d been at the table read.

She held herself a little too still, and she projected a little more than she needed to, but her dialogue was solid. Good, even. If she’d just relax a little, she’d have it nailed.

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