Starbird

Chapter 7

The following hours were rather boring. I didn’t know how many times they needed to film a simple three minute conversation, but so far they were up to ten. Even if the shot was beautiful and it evoked emotion and everything, the directer would call “Cut! And reset!” and everything would fall back to the way it was a few minutes before. Ridiculous. The scene wasn’t even an action scene or something entirely entertaining, it was just... talking. By my third cup of coffee, sixth sketch of a flower, and several munchies later, Lisa fluttered into the room announcing lunch.

“Oh hallelujah.” I said, putting all my things back in my bag.

“You weren’t bored, were you?” My mom asked, knowing full well I felt like my brain was slowly melting.

“Not at all, mother. I could just feel my brain slipping out of my ears.”

“That’s disgusting.” I shrugged.

“Don’t matter when it’s true.”

“Use proper grammar, sweetheart.”

“Reason number eleven why I don’t like my mom being a journalist.” I said, pushing myself off the chair and stretching my limbs.

“Oh please, you use me to your full advantage. Especially when you took AP Language and Composition.” My mom reminded me as she gathered her things and we followed Lisa out of the Zone and into the lot.

“That’s reason number six why I do like my mom being a journalist. I have separate lists, you know.” Mom merely shook her head.

“And the rest of your lists?”

“Confidential.” I looked over at her and smiled innocently while she shook her head again in an ‘oh-my’ fashion.

“How you doing, babe?” An Australian accent rang in my ears as I felt an arm sling around my shoulders, which caused me to lurch away in shock.

“Oh my gosh, Carson, never ever do that again. You scared me half to death.” I scolded, punching his arm.

“Ow, that hurt.” He pouted, rubbing the spot that I hit.

“Oh stop being a baby, I barely touched you.” He shrugged and draped his arm back around me again.

“So-o. How was watching in the Zone?”

“Boringest thing I’ve ever done.” 

“Boringest isn’t a word, hun!” I heard Mom call behind her. How could she even hear me from where she was?

“I know, mother! But saying ‘the most boring’ isn’t quite as easy!” I called back to her.

“Well, don’t worry about it being boring anymore. My scenes are after lunch, meaning prepare for the gun show.” Carson flexed and, while it was super impressive, I punched him in the gut.

“Self flattery will get you nowhere with me, my friend.” Carson grabbed both my hands and looked straight into my eyes.

“Wait. We’re friends, Cam? You mean it?” He looked so sincere and puppy-like.

“Sure, what ever.” I pulled my hands away and started walking again, flashing him a quick smirk. He jogged back up to my side.

“I feel so,” he sniffed dramatically, “special that I’m your,” sniffle, “your friend.” He started fanning his face with his hand as he then proceeded to sob into my shoulder.

“Oh my gosh, get off of me. You’re a big boy, Carson. No need to cry.” Carson merely lifted his head and sent a dazzling smile my way. I shook my head as we entered into a different tent where crew workers, actors, costume, hair and make up people surrounded long tables. A food buffet was set up along the farthest wall and the smells wafted in my nose and I was faintly aware that I was drooling.