Bound for Glory - Year 1

Week 30 - The Feelings Aren't Mutual

Song of the chapter on side :) >>>>>>>>>>

30th Week!!! Yaaaaayy!! :D

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                                                    October 2nd, 2011

              “With Something You Want Always Comes Something You Don't”

                                                  Universal Studios (Los Angeles, California), trailer, around . . . 6:07am

I arrived early this morning to get some relaxing in before we begin shooting. Luckily, we didn't get much done before I dyed my hair, so we haven't lost too much film and we don't have to work too hard to get back to where we were. We're pretty much starting from the first case, then skipping to Traffic since the first case is a little long. Since I'm single now, I don't have to feel guilty about kissing Sharp for the first scene. The sun was just rising and it was shining through the open blinds in my trailer. I shut them, casting thin lines of light across the other half of my trailer, and sat down at my makeup counter, examining all the products I wouldn't actually be using, seeing as it doesn't make much sense for a policewoman to douse herself in bronzer before chasing after a runner.

I didn't get much sleep last night, but oddly enough I felt pretty good. My new trailer is nicer than my last one at Paramount, I managed not to get raccoon circles under my eyes for once, and my knee's fit of hurting—residual from my past injury when I was a teenager—this morning has ceased. I wish they'd never invented skateboards . . . or I wish I'd never found one to begin with.

I took a long look in the mirror, thinking. I was wondering how everyone was doing getting ready for Hell in a Cell. Unfortunately, Alex managed to find his way into my thoughts at that moment. He has a match against Al tonight. Oh, sorry . . . Alberto. I've grown to call people by the short versions of their names lately. Just easier. I was beginning to miss him. Alex, I mean. It was a little sad to wake up and not see him there . . . or to see the longing look in Oreo's eyes for her master. But I knew we'd both have to get used to it.

“Hey,” I heard a male voice clip from outside my door. I got up and walked over to the door, opening it up to see David, our director, there with his sunglasses propped up on his head. I smiled.

“What's up?” I leaned on the steel doorway, the sleeve of my sweater guarding my arm from the cold bite of it.

“We're starting filming soon, okay? First scene?” he said, resting his hand up on the trailer wall. He was about six feet tall, so he had no problem reaching. I nodded.

“Gotcha.” I nodded.

“You don't feel weird about it? I know you and Patrick had a thing once . . .” he said, an almost undetectable smirk crossing his face. I rolled my eyes and let out a chuckle.

“No,” I shook my head. “I'm good.”

“Awesome,” he smiled, pushing himself off the trailer with his hand. “See you on set in fifteen minutes.”

“Kay!”

I walked over to the cooler, leaving the door open, and grabbed a water. I walked down the stairs of the trailer, shutting the door behind me, and walked quickly to the wardrobe building. There I found my partner Dunn waiting in his uniform. After a quick hello, I got mine and headed to a dressing room. Typical cop uniform. Navy blue. Hat with a badge thing on it. Gun belt thingy. Black tie. Black shiny shoes. Cotton. I looked good. I tied my hair in a low ponytail and held my hat in my hand at my side as I walked out of the dressing room. I saw Patrick dressed in pleated khakis, a vertically-striped button-down with the sleeves rolled up, loafers, and suspenders. His hair was all styled in a 40s fashion and he had a light stubble. He looked good as well. When he looked my way, he smiled and waved me over. I returned the smile and walked over.