Jane shakes her head. “Time passes between the?—”
“Her hair’s shorter, so we’re doing the opening scenes last,” Eddy says. “Now, let’s get to the places we blocked.”
Yesterday, the set was still being built. I wasn’t sure quite what it was. Our blocking had more to do with where we stood and how we’d be angled when we sang our lines. Today, in costume, with benches and a podium. . .it feels a lot more real.
When everyone vacates and the lights click on, I know what’s going to happen. I’m prepared for the whirring of the fan, and the introductory music. I even remember the modifications we made to the song for the movie soundtrack.
But having Jake staring right at me, like he’s fascinated with me, like he can’t look away. . .it’s. . .he’s clearly a very gifted actor. It feels real. I remind myself that literally no one has ever looked at me that way, not in my entire life.
But I miss my cue, and then lots of people are looking at me.
“Okay, let’s do that again—did you hear it?” Eddy asks. “Do we need to get you headphones or turn up the sound?”
“I heard—” my voice cracks and I want to die. I cough to clear my throat. “I did hear it. Sorry.”
“It’s a lot,” Eddy says. “Let’s take it again.”
This time, Jake’s still staring at me, but I’m listening, and I come in right on time.
The world is full of beauty.
The world is full of peace.
Jake reaches up and tucks my hair behind my ear on the right side of my face. He bites his lip as he smiles at me, and then he picks up perfectly when it’s his turn.
The world is full of light and joy,
That almost never cease.
When I take over again, he drops his hand on my hand, his fingers encircling my wrist. It’s warm, and it’s strong, and if my voice wobbles a little as I sing the next lines, well, at least they’re replacing this sound with one from the studio.
You made me lots of promises.
You made them all come true.
We sing the last lines together, our voices blending much better than I anticipated.
I can hardly imagine living in
A world devoid of you.
I’d never thought of this as a love song, not until this moment.
During the musical segue, the backup singers spring out from a side door. It’s a little corny, or at least, it feels that way right now, but maybe they have some kind of plan for editing them that’s less dumb than the six of them dancing around us like wannabe gremlins in grey monochrome outfits. Jake does, right on cue, release my hand and walk away, but it’s his eyes that get me. He furrows his brow, and for all the world, it looks like walking away from me is killing him.
As I sing the opening lines, the backup singers are essentially just humming a harmony. I wonder why they didn’t just call them dancers.
The world is dark and terrifying.
All your promises were lies.
The ones who talked of beauty,
Were the first to avert their eyes.
I get it now, a little, why they included them. Jake has turned away, and he’s standing at the edge of the screen, and the women have sort of bunched around him, like they’ve all turned their backs on me.
The face you said was gorgeous,