Going Off Script

by Jen Wilde

  I beam at her. I’ve seen her name in the opening credits so many times. I’m so excited I could scream. But I don’t want to freak her out, so I promise myself I’ll stay chill.

  That lasts about three seconds.

  “You wrote the prom night episode last season, right?” I ask as we leave the building.

  Her eyes widen like she’s surprised I knew that, then a smile tugs at her lips. “I did.”

  I clutch my chest. “That was one of my favorite episodes ever! The moment Jonah finally admitted his feelings for Sue…” I dip my head back and swoon, “I cried.”

  Her smile reaches her eyes. “Oh, wow. I’m so happy you liked it!”

  I keep bombarding her with questions about what it’s like to work here, where else she’s worked, and how she got into the business. She answers my questions with excited ramblings that I eat up. Jane talks to me like I’m a person, and for the first time today, I feel like I’m going to be okay here.

  I’m so caught up in our conversation that I don’t pay attention to where we’re going until we reach a tall steel door.

  “You’ve been watching since season one, I’m guessing?” Jane asks as she uses both arms to drag it open.

  “Never missed an episode,” I say, suddenly realizing where we are. I’m frozen still as the door slides open to reveal a soundstage the size of an aircraft hangar. Noise filters out into the street where I’m standing, my jaw practically hitting the ground. People rush in every direction, some talking into their headpieces, others moving equipment across the concrete floors. It’s like opening a portal into a new world.

  Jane walks ahead of me and I hurry to keep up. My head darts from left to right as I try to look at everything at once.

  “Welcome to Silver Falls,” she says.

  I stare in awe at the sight before me. It’s the exterior of the cabin that Jonah and Tom (played by Will and Archer) retreat to every full moon, in the woods just outside Silver Falls. I feel like I’ve stepped into my TV.

  “Are you okay?” Jane asks with a laugh. I pull my jaw back off the ground and nod.

  “I’m just so happy,” I croak. I try to rein in my glee, reminding myself that I’m here to learn and work—I need to be professional. But I make a mental note to have a celebratory dance party the moment I get back to Parker’s.

  “Here,” Jane says as she hands me a copy of the script for the episode being filmed. Her name is on the front.

  “You wrote this episode?” I ask.

  She nods. “I mean, it’s all very collaborative. But yes.”

  I start flipping through the script and land on a page that says …

  EXT. THE CABIN—NIGHT

  Jonah, Tom, and Sasha are outside the cabin. Fog swims around their ankles. Jonah and Sasha are packing the truck to leave Silver Falls. Tom watches from the porch.

  “This is the scene that’s being set up?” I ask.

  Jane glances at the page and nods. “It’s only a few lines of dialogue, but we’ll probably be here through lunch.”

  “I can’t wait to see it all come together!”

  “Good!” she says. “Why don’t you take notes? Lines sometimes get tweaked or details changed, so I need someone to edit the script as we go.”

  I pull my pencil case out of my bag. “Sure thing.”

  Just then, Alyssa Huntington and Will Horowitz walk by, chatting about their lines. Alyssa is black, her body lean and athletic, with a contagious smile. She usually wears her hair shaved super short, but I notice it’s grown out a little on top, with a cool fade on the sides. Her tattoos are mostly hidden under her clothes: a dark red leather jacket paired with skinny jeans and combat boots. Will is tall, maybe six feet, with light skin, wavy brown hair, and a permanent five-o’clock shadow that makes him look older than twenty-three. Parker is going to be so jealous that I’m breathing the same air as his crush.

  I can’t believe how close I am to my faves right now. Alyssa makes eye contact with me and I smile. She smiles back and it feels like time has slowed down. I stare after her as she takes a seat in a chair with her name on it, only a few feet away.

  “Pretty cool to see all this, huh?” Jane asks me.

  “The coolest,” I say.

  A young guy paces near us, talking into a walkie. “Does anyone have eyes on Archer? We need Archer!”

  I hear a ton of footsteps walking through the soundstage and turn to see a small group of important-looking people walking toward the set. A woman with dark brown skin and very high heels seems to be the center of attention in the group.

  “I’ll be right back,” Jane says as she hurries to talk to her.

  As the entourage gets closer, I recognize the woman from a feature Teen Vogue did on her last year. Her name is Ruby Randall, and she’s the first black woman to be named head of a major television network. She’s the biggest boss around.

  “Bex,” Jane says, waving me over. “This is Ruby Randall, the head of the network. Ms. Randall, Bex is our new intern in the writers’ room. It’s her first day.”

  Ms. Randall smiles like I’m an old friend. “Hello! First day here and you’re already on set. Glad to see you’re diving right in!”

  I shake her hand a little too enthusiastically, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

  “I’m having a blast!” I say. “Thank you for giving me such an amazing opportunity.”

  “I always say it’s important for us to lift as we climb,” she says. “I hope you learn a lot during your time here.”

  I gesture to the script in my hand. “I’ve already started taking notes.”

  She laughs. “A girl after my own heart.”

  Malcolm walks into the building then, with Dirk following him like a shadow.

  “Looks like everything is running smoothly,” Malcolm says. He turns to Dirk. “Dirk, Danish.” Dirk scurries over to the craft services table and picks up a plate.

  “Malcolm,” Ms. Randall says. “It’s great to see you giving your intern a real hands-on experience by inviting her to the set. I wish I’d had someone like that when I was a young intern.” She looks at me, rolling her eyes. “All I did was fetch coffees for people who didn’t even remember my name.”

  I’m about to say that it was Jane’s idea to bring me to set, but Malcolm speaks first.

  “Yes,” he says. “Well, interns are the future, I always say.”

  Wow. I look at Jane, who’s smiling and going along with it, so I follow her lead. This isn’t like in high school, where I could just keep my head down, get my work done, and avoid eye contact with everyone else. I actually have to talk to people here, and be, like, social.

  “That’s great, Malcolm,” Ms. Randall says. Her assistant arrives and beckons her away, and the moment she’s out of sight, Malcolm leaves, too.

  I watch Jane out of the corner of my eye, wondering if I should say something. The last thing I want to do is cause trouble on my first day, but I can’t be the only one in this whole studio who notices Malcolm’s behavior.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” she says. I pretend to not know what she’s talking about, but acting has never been a skill of mine. She smirks. “‘Interns are the future, I always say,’” she says, lowering her voice and puffing her chest out to impersonate him. Then she rolls her eyes. “No one says that.”

  I chuckle but remind myself to be careful of what I say. “I don’t think he likes me very much.”

  She frowns. “He doesn’t like anyone very much. And trust me, the feeling is mutual. But he makes great television.”

  “Hey, Jane,” a voice says from behind me. I turn around to see Archer Carlton walking toward us. My breath catches in my throat. “I have a few Qs for you to A about my lines,” he says to Jane.

  “Sure,” Jane says. “What’s up?”

  He notices me standing next to her and looks me up and down. I grin at him like the huge Silver Falls fangirl that I am. He smiles. Oh my sweet lord. He’s going to talk to me. Archer Carlton is going
to speak words at me and I can’t deal. This is a pivotal moment in my life. He opens his mouth to speak …

  “I’ll take a green juice, thanks.”

  Okay, so that’s not exactly what I was hoping for, but this is part of my job now, so I drop everything to make his wish my command. Only I don’t know where I’m supposed to find green juice in this place. Dirk is still at the craft table, so I go over to introduce myself and ask him.

  “Hey!” I say with a friendly smile. “I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself in the writers’ room. I’m Bex, Malcolm’s new intern.”

  He doesn’t look up from the table as he piles Danishes onto a plate. “Don’t talk to me.”

  For a second I think I misheard him, so I try again. “Do you know where I can find green juice? Archer wants some, and it’s my first day so—”

  “Do I look like a tour guide?” he asks. His phone dings in his pocket, but we both ignore it.

  I shrink back a little. “No.”

  His phone dings again, but he ignores it again. “Listen, intern. There’s a hierarchy you need to learn.” He gestures with his hands, measuring the rankings. “It goes Randall, Malcolm, me, then literally everyone else in the whole fucking world, then right here at the bottom? That’s you. You’re a speck.”

  I want to crawl under the craft table and hide. I feel just like Andy in The Devil Wears Prada, naive, frazzled, and completely out of my depth. And Dirk just went full Emily on me.

  “Sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just that we both work for Malcolm, so I thought we could help each other out.”

  He raises an eyebrow. His phone dings three more times, and he groans while pulling it out of his pocket. “I’m so over this.” He starts typing something, then glances up at me.

  “Actually,” he says. “There is something you could help me with.”

  I smile, feeling like he’s coming around. “Sure!”

  “Ms. Randall has asked a few select people to take over the Silver Falls social accounts,” he explains. “So fans can get a glimpse of what life on set is like. I’ve been running the Instagram, but it’s so…” He pauses, like he’s trying to find the words. “Superficial. And all these fangirls just won’t stop with the comments and the questions and tagging me in their fanfic posts.” He chuckles, then takes a step closer. “It’s not for me. Someone like you, however, could be perfect for this role.”

  I smile, not really sure if he’s being fake nice or real nice, but I want him to like me. And I don’t want to be a speck. “I’d love to do that!”

  “Great!” he says. “All you need to do is post some stories, photos, maybe a livestream or two. No spoilers, of course, but just enough content to keep the fans frothing for more.”

  He gives me the log-in details, and I’m genuinely excited to be taking on such an important responsibility. He may not understand the power of social media in the fandom, but I know from experience how important it is.

  “Thank you,” I say. “Now, seeing as we’re helping each other, do you mind telling me where I can find green juice?”

  He starts walking away. “I have no idea. Sorry!”

  * * *

  The rest of my day is spent running errands. Fetching an assorted variety of beverages, making phone calls, delivering paperwork, and making script notes for Jane on set. I even manage to snap a few photos for the Silver Falls Instagram and reply to some of the comments. As hectic as it sounds, I love every minute of it—at least the minutes when Malcolm and Dirk are out of sight.

  It’s dark by the time I leave. Hayley Kiyoko serenades me through my headphones as the bus rolls down the highway. My Ritalin wore off hours ago and it shows: I can barely keep my head up, I’m so tired.

  I have a love/hate relationship with Ritalin. When I take it, it energizes me. I become very talkative and animated and focused. I get shit done. I’m awake. But there’s an undercurrent of anxiety, a truly uncomfortable feeling in my chest, the kind you would get when you’re running late to the most important meeting of your life. But if I don’t take it? I’m half-asleep all day. I move like a sloth. I never know which task to focus on first, and if I do my focus never lasts long enough to see it to completion. There’s no in-between with me—it’s either sleepy sloth or Energizer Bunny. And right now I’m in peak sloth mode; even the jolting stop-and-start bus ride through Los Angeles can’t keep me awake.

  By the time I walk to Parker’s from the bus stop, it’s past nine. I fetch my key out of my bag and try to unlock the door, but once again it won’t budge. Before I have time to test Parker’s über-complicated trick, he opens the door, smiling.

  “Finally!” he says as he pulls me into his arms. I relax into his hug, my cheek resting against his shoulder. “I’ve been waiting all day to give you this hug.”

  He leads me inside and closes the door. “I’m so proud of you. Now, tell me everything that you saw today, starting with Will Horowitz.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Rise and shine!” Parker sings as he opens the blinds. The early-morning sunshine falls over me, and I hiss at him before rolling back over. I forgot that Parker is a morning person. His one flaw.

  “Come on,” he says. “If your butt isn’t in the car by eight A.M., I’m leaving without you. I have a client to pretty up in Beverly Hills.”

  I groan into my pillow. “I just need ten more hours.”

  He cackles. “You and me both.”

  Parker disappears into the bathroom and I promptly fall back asleep. Ten minutes later, I’m woken up again by his panicked voice.

  “Rebecca!” he says, sounding eerily like my mom when she’s pissed at me. “We have to leave in, like, five minutes! Get your ass up!”

  I groan again and drag myself off the futon and into the bathroom. I don’t have time to shower, so I smother myself in deodorant and dry shampoo.

  “Ready!” I say as I emerge from the bathroom in a cloud of Batiste. I go to the kitchen, pour myself a glass of orange juice, and swallow my Lexapro and Ritalin. Then Parker hands me my backpack and ushers me out the door.

  The moment my butt hits the passenger seat, my nerves riot. I hoped I’d feel more confident about today, but it turns out second-day anxiety is even worse than first-day nerves. Suddenly, I feel like I’m on my way to Westmill High, knowing the assholes are waiting in the halls, not knowing what insults they’ll hurl my way today.

  But I have a plan: I’m going to swing by the café first, pick up coffees for all the writers (apparently the studio has an account there), and show up in time to hear the morning meeting.

  An hour later, I arrive at room 121 with a tray full of coffees, and I get a hero’s welcome.

  “You’re a lifesaver,” Jane says as she cradles her cup like it’s a delicate flower.

  “Thanks, Bex,” Andy says.

  Even Malcolm had something not-rude to say. “Okay, intern. How fast are you at typing?”

  “Um,” I say. “Pretty fast, I guess.”

  He chuckles. “Good. Dirk is out picking up a pen I ordered. Again. You can take notes during the meeting. We get our best ideas from the conversations we have around this table, so it’s important that someone records that.”

  “Done,” I say. I sit down on the couch—which feels like a huge step up from being frozen in the corner yesterday—open my laptop, and start a new Word doc. I have to admit, I’m pretty proud of myself for being on top of things this morning. And Malcolm is actually giving me an important task. I think it’s safe to say I’ve officially clocked the morning meetings! Next: world domination.

  For the next hour, my fingers fly over the keyboard as they go over the episode together. Lines are rewritten. Scenes are swapped. Suggestions are made. I’m so enthralled that I never want this meeting to end.

  Parker was right: This is what I want to do. I’m so glad he didn’t let me run away from this.

  Andy stands up and stares at the whiteboard, hands on hips. “We need to find a way to g
et from here”—he points to episode 611 on the board, the one we’re working on now—“to one of the hunters turning into a wolf in the finale.” He scratches his head. Everyone stares quietly at the board. Jane chews on the end of her pen, her eyes narrowed in thought.

  “Alyssa is staying on for the rest of the season,” she says. “It would be great for her to have a pivotal role in turning the hunter.”

  Malcolm nods. “The network does want her to stay as long as possible. She’s bringing in great ratings.”

  I have an idea. It might be a shitty idea. They might hate it or think it’s an amateur move. But I want to offer something to this meeting; I want to prove that I can speak up and be of use to this team. I take in a deep breath to prepare myself and straighten my shoulders.

  “What if she has to turn the hunter in order to save them?” I suggest. My voice only shook a teeny bit, so I’m satisfied.

  “I was thinking along those lines, too,” Jane says. Phew. I smile at her, and she smiles back.

  Andy nods, still standing in front of the board. “That could work.”

  It feels so good to be listened to. I sit up straighter, prouder.

  “Interns are supposed to be quiet,” Malcolm says. “Besides, that idea has been done. A superfan like you should know that, Becky.”

  Aaaand I’m back to Becky. My gaze drops to my keyboard.

  “Everything’s been done,” Jane says. She says it with a smile, but her tone is stern. “But we can find a way to add a new spin to it.”

  “Who did I assign episode 612 to?” Malcolm asks, staring straight past Jane and at the board. Jane clenches her jaw. I can’t believe she—a senior writer, an executive producer—is being straight-up ignored like this.

  Everyone glances at one another. Andy clears his throat, then says, “Um, Mal, you were supposed to write 612, remember?”

  The question seems innocent enough, but I swear Malcolm glares at Andy for a moment. Others at the table exchange looks that I don’t understand. I feel like I’m missing an inside joke, only it’s not funny, it’s tense.