Page 44 of Hot Set

Chapter sixteen

Brandon

“Did you notice there’s a giant pool of blood on the floor?” Seth asked.

I slowly looked up from my copy of the movie script. I’d been making some last-minute changes, trying to smooth over a few plot inconsistencies and hopefully save some time. We were drawing alarmingly close to the deadline I’d given my father, and I knew that if I waited too long, he’d eventually swoop in and start making demands. Or worse, cease funding this project altogether.

“I accidentally knocked a bucket of blood over on Alex’s head,” I admitted sheepishly.

Even thinking about it, I wanted to laugh. Alex’s face had been comically stunned, even while covered in fake blood, and while I’d been genuinely mortified at having dropped a bucket of fake blood on him, the whole mishap washilariousin hindsight. And the end result had been, admittedly, pretty pleasant. Alex had come over to my apartment again.

Seth raised an eyebrow. “So that’s your grand plan, huh? Kill the man with a bucket, so he can’t leave us for the FBI?”

Right. He’d be leaving eventually. Soon, maybe. I bit the cap of my pen and frowned. Of course, I was happy for Alex. Why shouldn’t I be? Joining the FBI was his dream, and now, he’d get to see that dream realized. So, few people actually managed to accomplish their dreams. Heck, I didn’t even know what Iwantedto do with my life, much less have any dreams.

But why was there that twinge of sadness?

Like maybe I wanted Alex to stay and hang around for a while. That was ridiculous, though. Eventually, this movie was coming to an end, and after that…

After that, I didn’t know what I’d do. As I looked around the set, it seemed like it would be…a shame never to see all this again; to never know the chaos of making a movie. To never work with these people again. They’d all move onto other things, and I’d be stuck.

But somehow, all those things seemed so... unimportant. All those problems seemed so insignificant when Alex was leaving. I looked to where he always sat, beside Bioncia. And the way he smiled! Alex’s grins always reached his eyes and made them sparkle. There was something just so enchanting about him, some nameless and wondrous thing that was present in everything he did. My heartbeat quickened just thinking about it.

And I might never see this man again.Ever.

My mind went into overdrive. I imagined everything, playing out like a movie. I imagined running to Alex, dropping to my knees, and confessing my love while the music swelled. Impossible. But it still made my heart race.

“Are you there?” Seth asked, jokingly waving a hand in front of my face. “Earth to Brandon. Come in”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Sorry. I was just thinking about my father. His expectations. I honestly think I’d rather dig ditches than work for a telecommunications company.”

Seth raised an eyebrow.

“I know, I know,” I replied. “First world problem.”

“Actually, I was going to say, ‘Spoken like a man who’s never dug a ditch,’but then I realized I’ve never dug one either. So, if you hate itthatmuch, embezzle some money. Pop will bail you out. Or get involved in some white-collar crime,” Seth said, his eyes bright with mischief. “Make dear old Dad regret ever wanting you to join his company. From experience, I know the best way to get out of doing stuff is to agree to do it the first time and do it poorly. Mess up badly enough, and your father will never ask for your help again.”

I sighed. “Super helpful, Seth. Why is it I hear ‘white collar crime’ as if spoken from experience.”

Seth shrugged. “It isn’t my fault if you turn down my excellent counsel.”

“That’s because it’sterriblecounsel,” I replied. “Your advice always sucks.”

Seth adopted a look of such mock offense, dramatic to the point I almost wished I’d had cameras rolling just to capture his expression. “At least,Ididn’t drop a bucket of blood on someone. Did you just send poor Alex home looking like Jack the Ripper? I feel bad for the upholstery in his car.”

“We walked, actually,” I replied, my attention drifting to the script, covered with highlighting and four different colors of ink.

If I did, hypothetically, pursue future film projects, I’d really have to work on becoming better with my organization. There probably wouldn’tbeany future film projects, but it was nice to fantasize about.

“To his house?” Seth asked. “Doesn’t he live clear across Bluehaven?”

“To my apartment,” I replied. “He spent the night.”

Seth wolf whistled. “Oh,” he said, practically purring.

I looked up from my papers and fixed him with my most withering glare. “For God’s sake,” I said.

“I think bringing God into this is a little dramatic,” Seth quipped.

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