BAD ACTING

MATT

        The first Friday of December, I drove home to the Shire after work and jumped in the shower. Nobody home, I turned on the TV and lit up the bong. Looking forward to the weekend, I flipped through the channels and finally landed on music videos, turned the volume down, and grabbed, The Forest, from my bag and started to read.

        My phone began buzzing, I ignored it at first, but it continued to buzz. I picked up my phone and I saw missed calls from everybody. My mother, my landlord, Matt, Andrew. The phone still buzzing, I answered and my mother started screaming at me. Through my mothers shrill panic, the message expressed to me: get to your apartment, something bad is about to happen.

        I ran to my car and headed to North Hollywood. On the way, I called Andrew.

        "Carrie and I are almost there, Matt called us."

        "What is going on?"

        "Matt's stupid film project."

        My heart stopped.

        I hung up the phone, sped down Laurel Canyon, and down Burbank to my old apartment.

        I arrived at the apartment and parked my car. Getting out of my car I looked around in horror. Huge professional film lights and cameras carried by an army of crew surround the entire area leading up to my apartment. An ear-splitting grinding noise filled the air thanks to a generator powering all of Matt's equipment. Hired actors and crew walked in and out of the apartment.

        I headed towards the building, and Andrew's car screeched to a halt in front of me, Carrie and Andrew jumped out.

        "Matt's a lunatic!" Andrew yelled, running to my side.

        "He's filming some seven deadly sins bullshit short," Carrie said, running to my other side.

        "Look at this mess, oh my god," Andrew said, looking around.

        "Your neighbors called the landlord, and Matt called us because he thinks it's funny," Carrie told me, shaking her head.

        My phone continued to buzz in my pocket. The three of us walked through the mass of crew and actors and up the stairs into Matt's set.

        I took my first step into the living room, and I saw three women dressed as monsters. Horns, fangs, hunched backs, and claws.

        "Oh my god, the walls," Carrie whispered, touching my arm.

        Matt wallpapered the walls with pages from porno magazines.

        The room started to spin, and I melted into a state of shock.

        Andrew took the lead. He ran into the apartment and grabbed Matt by the shirt.

        "You're going to clean this shit up right now."

        My landlord, 30, young mother, conservative, Indian, already on her way to the apartment.

        Carrie knelt down by my side and tried to comfort me while Andrew and Matt fought.

        "Just give me ten minutes to finish my scene, I'll explain everything to his landlord!" Matt yelled.

        "No fucking way!" Andrew screamed back.

        Matt and Andrew continued to fight, and eventually, Andrew threw up his hands and reported back to Carrie and me on the steps outside.

        "Ten minutes," he said, his face red with anger.

        Ten turned into twenty, and Matt demanded more time.

        Carrie jumped up and ran into the apartment.

        I sat, scared on the steps, and sixteen- year -old Carrie flew up the steps and crashed into Matt.

        "You have no idea what you're doing to him, one of my best friends!" Carrie shrieked at Matt while pulling on his shirt. " Stop filming you crazy asshole! NOW!"

        Matt laughed. He did not stop filming.

        My landlord arrived. She took one look at the lights and cameras. The porn on the walls, and yelling in a language I didn't understand, she ran back to her car and sped away.

        My phone continued to buzz in my pocket. I finally pulled my phone out and raised it to my ear.

        "What the hell is going on? If everybody is not out in one hour, your landlord is calling the cops." My mother updated me, after receiving another call from my landlord.

        I turned to Carrie and told her.

        "She's going to call the cops?" she asked back, in disbelief.

        I nodded, " I have sixty minutes, and then my landlord is walking through the apartment to appraise for damage and taking my keys." the words left my mouth, but my mind did not want to cooperate.

        Carrie told Andrew, and Andrew relayed the message to Matt.

        Matt laughed, "Ten more minutes guys, I promise."

        Matt finished thirty minutes later and did not help as Andrew, Carrie and I, frantically ripped porn off the walls, and attempted to clean the apartment of his mess. Tossing handfuls of trash into a nearby dumpster.

        Matt sat in his friends SUV with some of the equipment from the shoot, talking on his cell. My landlord returned and Carrie and Andrew left me at the top of the stairs, walking down to Andrew's car.

        The two of us walked through my apartment. The poor woman acted as if I might attack her at any moment. She took pictures of every tiny pinprick and mark. I gave her the keys, apologized, and left.

        I opened the back door to Andrews car and sat beside Carrie.

        "I'm so sorry," Carrie said to me, tears in her eyes.

        Before I could respond, Matt jumped out of the SUV and slid next to me into Andrews car, pushing me into Carrie.

        "You need to go back and take your own pictures of the place. That bitch is going to rip you off!"

        I shook my head.

        No

        "You fucking pussy. I'll go talk to her." Matt ran to the building, and up the stairs to my landlord. He started yelling at her, while making dramatic hand gestures and pointed in my direction to join him.

        My landlord finally called the cops.

        "I am calling the police! I am calling the police!" she screamed, waving at Matt.

        I said goodbye to Carrie and Andrew, jumped into my car and drove away.

        I never wanted to see Matt again.

        I parked my car outside the new house and slowly walked to the front door, and into the foyer. Down the hall and up the stairs into my room.

        I turned on my i-pod and danced for hours around the house, my sweat smearing across the floors and splattering on the walls.