Then nothing.
The lights die out. The whole set is dark. I can still make out the shadowy faces of people, but I’m not certain who I’m looking at.
For a second, we’re all frozen. It’s like someone hit pause on our very own reality TV, leaving us in a void that’s as silent as it is sudden.
Stunned confusion ripples through the room, a wave of uncertain murmurs.
“What the hell?” I hear someone say, and it’s as if that breaks the spell.
The air snaps with bewildered voices, all at once.
“Did someone trip over a cable?” one of the guys calls out, trying to lighten the mood.
Some of the girls laugh like they think it’s part of the show. Another crazy twist to shake things up.
But then a metallic clang echoes, and the laughter falters.
I reach awkwardly in the dark, bumping into elbows, knees, and a body I hope is Heidi’s.
Accusations fly.
“Who touched me?”
“Wasn’t me.”
“Very funny, guys.”
A crash sounds from somewhere close, followed by a panicked “Watch out!”
It feels like the world’s starting to tilt. To turn on its head. To slip out of control.
A chorus of voices, high-pitched and frantic, starts rising over the din. The sound builds and builds, gaining momentum like a runaway train. Like everyone’s about to lose their minds.
“Is this a joke?”
More shouts. More random guesses.
“Come on, you guys!”
“Um, are we gonna die?”
“Not cool!”
Even the crew’s yelling, fumbling to figure it out, as chaos spreads like a quickly catching fire.
I hear feet scuffling across the floor. Bodies jostling for position. Everyone crowding toward the nearest windows. Anywhere there might be some light. Some relief from the sudden plunge into uncertainty.
Then Elena’s voice cuts through.
“Power’s out! Something electrical is definitely on fire!”
It’s loud. Authoritative. It sucks up the noise like a vacuum.
What follows is dead silence. Like we’re all holding our breath.
“We’re halting production until further notice,” she announces.
The finality of her words hangs in the air. Dimming our panic, but not by much.