by Max Hudson
August glanced at his watch. “Well, this won’t take long. I may even get in a few hours of sleep.”
Once he’d gathered his ingredients, he went back to the circle, spread each one in its corrected place, said a few words, and called it a night.
In West Hollywood, Jared was doing much the same, except there was a lot of fire involved, and even a fire extinguisher at one point. Still, once he was done reciting his own words, and putting the fire out, he felt happy with his ritual, and went to bed as well.
The next morning, the studio was abuzz bright and early. Things were done in what August considered the proper fashion, with him and the crew getting to the set early in order to discuss the scenes to set up, and get the ball rolling, while the cast came in a little later, did a little make-up and the like. That way, by the time everyone was ready to get going, everything was ready to get going. Though Jared had been the first the day before, August noted that he was late on the second day. It didn’t surprise him, but he’d hoped that they’d managed to buck the trend.
When the man finally did zoom onto the set in his Black Widow, August frowned and rolled his eyes. “Where have you been?”
Jared grinned as he shut the driver’s side door. “Lunch is one thing. You didn’t expect me to be here at the crack of dawn, though, did you?”
“I did expect you to be here before shooting started,” August mumbled quickly.
“Oh please, you love it when I keep you on your toes.”
“I don’t actually.” August paused. “We’re doing the street scene first.”
“I know, I read the call sheet.”
“Did you?” August said with raised brows.
Jared rolled his eyes and then began to saunter into the building. His director quickly caught up with him though.
“Make-up,” he said. As Jared groaned, he added, “And tell them to be quick about it.”
The team was starting the day on the street the two of them had been so impressed with. Though it was first thing in the morning, they were doing a night scene, because this was Hollywood and they could. Unfortunately, though it might look simple on screen, lighting a night scene so that it both looked dark enough to be believable but actually be able to be seen by the audience was more complicated than it looked. They did have the benefit of being in a large building that could be made pitch black, though.
At the moment, all the house lights were on, though. The last thing they needed was a lawsuit from some uppity actor who tripped over a power cord in the dark. August made his way to the back of the room, script in one hand, walkie-talkie in the other. The script was just a formality, something directors did before quickly handing it off to their script supervisor the moment they found them. Once he’d done that, secure in the knowledge that someone else was keeping track of what scene they were on, what everyone’s lines were, and which takes he liked best, he found the lighting crew to check and see if everything was ready to try out.
It turned out, they weren’t quite ready. August frowned. “We’ve been here for hours. What’s the trouble?”
“Dim the lights,” the head man said.
August relayed the order into the walkie talkie and their side of the building went almost completely dark. Then he waited while all the lighting came up.
“You see,” the man said as he stood in front of the main light source.
August cocked an eyebrow in annoyance. He knew exactly what the man was trying to say. He’d instructed them to get authentic tungsten lighting to try and make an authentic noir street scene. The man was trying to tell him “You’re an idiot” and “I told you so.”
As he held up his hands, August nodded. “Yes, I see,” he admitted. “Too orange. Fine, everything else looks...fine. Just replace the streetlight.”
August didn’t like delays, which he suspected, was the mean reason Jared usually turned up late. Dealing with an actor was one thing, though, dealing with technical problems, and a cranky crew was another. He knew better than to question people who were experts in their field, he hated having it done to him, after all, but the schedule had been so rushed that he’d barely had time to talk to any of these people except on the set.
The budget, and so crew, was so massive, though, that it didn’t take any time at all to bring in another light. There was a warehouse full of them nearby. Of course, the actors had to come in before he was ready for them, though.
“I thought you were waiting for me with bated breath,” Jared quipped, causing August to visible bristle, which of course, only made Jared’s day. “You aren’t even ready for me. I could have slept another hour.”
“Only a minor technical difficulty,” August assured him, looking the man over in his 1920’s power suit. It was chocolate brown with wide pinstripes. The director raised a brow again, surprised at how well the costume suited the man. They’d decided against a hat, though it may have been more authentic, because it would have messed with Jared’s dark, floppy hair.
“You’re staring,” the actor muttered as he leaned in toward the shorter man.
“What?! I am not.” August turned away from him in a huff, ignoring the sound of Jared’s chuckles behind him.
Before long, everything was ready to go...again, and everyone took their places. Jared and Margaret were walking down the street together, Jared’s character finally having proven charming enough to get the young lady to go off on some completely unbelievable adventure with him. They were walking to his car, when another one roared down the street, and the passengers began shooting at them. Sounded simple enough, but everyone involved knew it wouldn’t be. It would take most of the day to film, with multiple angles, even more takes, and the very real chance that something could go wrong or someone could get hurt.
By lunch time, everyone was tired, but August was pleasantly surprised that it was all going so smoothly. He grabbed a quick bite, the director always being the one who never really has time to stop. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Jared in his suit. He noticed that his leading man and lady were making a concerted effort to ignore one another. He knew it didn’t really matter how they felt about each other offscreen, as long as the onscreen chemistry worked. And he wasn’t surprised that they didn’t like each other, few people did like Jared, and everyone knew that the man was gay. What did surprise him, though, was the immense relief he felt at the idea.
A momentary look of horror crossed August’s face, and then he quickly grabbed up his lunch and headed for his makeshift office. He had his own room to work and think, off to the side of the giant set. It was customary for the director to have his own space, to keep track of all the affairs of the film. Not that he didn’t take all the work home with him anyway, but it was still nice to be able to get away from everyone else. Unfortunately, he found most of his short lunch break was interrupted by the distraction of Jared Hodgens. It would have been less distracting, he thought, if the man had actually been there, babbling in his ear. Then, he probably could have tuned the man out in annoyance. Instead, he kept finding his mind drawn back to the site of him in that stupid suit.
Lunch was short, and August was glad to be able to get back to work. As he stepped out of the office, he saw that some of the cast and crew had already stumbled back on to the set. He took it as a good sign that they were enjoying the project.
“Okay, everyone,” he spoke up, clasping his hands together. “All we have left is the close-ups of the street scene. Jared, Margaret, I’m going to need you in your starting positions.”
His two stars nodded and headed back to what was supposed to be the entrance to the club. The club, of course, being another set entirely. Then August waved the camera operator over, as well as half a dozen other people pertinent to the scene. As he yelled action, Margaret and Jared began their walk toward the car. August watched through his own little screen, his eyebrows knitted together. Something just wasn’t right, beyond the proximity of the starlet to his star. He shook his head, willing a
way the ridiculous thoughts of jealousy in his mind, and yelled cut.
“Now what?” Jared complained. “We’re just getting started.”
“I know, I know,” August complained back. “Something’s...off, though.”
“Something? I’m afraid you may have to be a little more specific than that if you want us to do anything about it.”
August’s eyebrows knit further together. He didn’t say anything, though, because he knew it would have come out as a whine if he did. He had no idea what was happening to him, other than an hour ago he wouldn’t have cared about Jared’s snide remarks, and now they cut him to the core. “Shit,” he hissed under his breath and walked over to his actors.
He looked the scene over while everyone waited impatiently, and then waved his script supervisor over. “This isn’t right, is it?” he mumbled to her.
She looked the scene over herself and then the playback from the director’s monitor. “They should be closer to the light,” she agreed. “They’re walking too slowly, I think.”
“Ah-hah!” August exclaimed, feeling a bit too victorious, he realized when he saw all the impatiently waiting faces. “Back to the beginning and walk a little faster.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Jared sighed.
“Just do it!” August chided, a little too firmly, he could tell from the surprised look on the actor’s face. He gave him an apologetic look and then sank back into his chair.
There were no more hang-ups, and they managed to finish the scene rather quickly, considering. Once they were through, the cast they didn’t need any more went home, and everyone else went to change. Everyone except for Jared, that is. He hung back, waiting for the others to leave, and then slowly made his way over to August, who was already looking over the next set they’d need. Jared looked around, as if they were spies, having some kind of clandestine meeting, and then stepped up to the man.
“What was that all about?”
“What?” August said, knowing exactly what the man was talking about.
“All that with the ‘you’re walking in the wrong light’,” Jared answered in a mocking tone.
“Well, you were. It didn’t match the master shot.”
“Oh please.”
August stared at his annoying face for a moment, and then simply looked away without dignifying his remark with an answer.
“What’s eating you?” Jared tried again, in a tone that almost fooled August into thinking he cared.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize we weren’t intellectual equals, and I couldn’t possibly understand your feelings.”
August frowned again and turned to see Jared sauntering away. He felt confused, thinking that maybe he’d actually hurt the man. His voice had certainly sounded that like he had.
“Wait,” August cried and hurried after him. “Look, I...”
Before he could say anymore, though, they heard a strange scraping sound, and turned to see one of the lights from the lighting apparatus overhead come crashing down in the exact spot they’d been standing in only moments before. When the dust settled, and the screaming stopped, August straightened up from where he had ducked. He noticed Jared staring at him curiously, and August realized with a start that he’d been the one screaming.
He composed himself, giving his actor a stern looked. “Go home. No need for you to have to deal with this.”
“No,” Jared agreed and then gave him a grin. “Good luck.”
August knew exactly what he meant, and his face fell even further. He ushered everyone out of the building and then called Jameson. As he’d suspected, if someone had been hurt, the man would have been sympathetic and worried, instead, he was simply angry and the cost to replace the expensive light. After calling the man, waiting for the man to come down and look everything over, and multiple sessions of listening to him rant against him, August was finally able to go home. The first thing he did was pour himself a sherry and rush to his little hidden room.
“Something must have gone wrong,” he mumbled under his breath. He set his sherry down, and quickly began to flip through all of his books on magic. He thought back to the ritual he’d done the night before, meticulously going over every step he’d made, every word he’d said. He couldn’t see anything wrong with the ritual, and he shook his head, and sat down at his little table. He downed the sherry, his mind whirring with worries, and his hearth thumping wildly.
What August didn’t know was that Jared had gone home hours earlier and done the exact same thing. Well, not quite exact, it definitely hadn’t involved any sherry, but the actor had rushed home and gone straight to his living room coffee table. He looked over the symbols that had burned and blackened part of the glass, and then checked his own books to see if he’d done the spell right. Everything looked fine to him, though he had drunk a fair bit of whiskey. Nothing like this had ever gone wrong for him before though, and he began to wonder if it wasn’t a coincidence.
“I mean, the rest of the day went...splendidly,” he finished, making his voice sound like August’s. “Just splendid,” he added with a laugh. Then he thought back to the way the director had been eyeballing him all day and smiled...then frowned. “What was that all about?” he wondered and plopped down onto his sofa. “If I didn’t know better...nah,” he said with a chuckle and waved the thought away.
Chapter Five
The next day, Jared arrived on set, once again, surprisingly early. To his own surprise, he was more interested in what had transpired between Jameson and August the day before, than getting to work. Part of him almost felt sorry for the man, and he had to admit to being a tad bit worried. He’d convinced himself that the happenings of the evening before had been nothing more than the type of accident common on a movie set, but part of him was still curious about how the day would go.
As he rounded the corner of the large, open loading door on the set, he ran smack into August who was coming out, though not watching where he was going. Instead, he was watching as a large crane brought in the replacement light. As he almost stumbled to the ground, Jared caught him.
“Oh!” he let out, in surprise and annoyance. As he turned to see who’d bumped into him, his face flushed, and he sputtered. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, though it came out as a bit of a squeak.
“I work here, remember?” Jared teased.
August harrumphed and disentangled himself from the actor’s grasp.
“Well, Jameson must not have been too miffed. He gave us a new light and all.”
“You have no idea,” August mumbled.
“No, but I can imagine,” Jared chuckled. “So, what are we doing today?”
“You didn’t read the call sheet?”
“Sorry, didn’t really have time.”
“Big party or something?” August sassed.
“Something like that.”
That day, everything seemed to go from bad to worse. Where they’d gotten lucky the day before, and all the scenes went off smoothly, this time everyone seemed to be off their game. They did take after take of the same thing, but nothing ever seemed to come out quite right. After a few hours, August began to wonder if it wasn’t just his own mood, so he called for a break so he could watch the scenes back. It ended up not being quite as terrible as he’d thought so he called everyone back to work on the next part of the scene.
They’d been working in an interior set this time, a complete house, and as his actors walked into the space, another strange sound rent the air. This time is the sound of wood cracking. August quickly looked around, as the others were all talking, and had apparently, not heard anything. Before he could locate the source of the noise, though, one of the backdrops making up the set walls, came crashing down, straight onto his leading lady.
“Oh my God!” he shouted, and rushed over to help, along with everyone else, which only succeeded in causing chaos. “Call an ambulance,” he finally shouted, which seemed to work. The re
st of the crowd pulled out their phones simultaneously, which made August sigh, and then he turned to the backdrop, and with Jared’s help, they got the heavy piece of wood off of Margaret.
“Good thing actors like being told what to do,” Jared quipped and nodded toward the multiple 911 calls.
“Yes, quite,” August grumbled. “Are you hurt, my dear?”
“How should I know? I’m not a doctor,” Margaret groaned.
“I think she’s fine,” Jared said.
“Help me get her up, will you?” August growled.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea? She could have hidden injuries, or...” Jared pointed out, holding up his hands.
“Maybe you’re right,” the director reluctantly agreed, and the two of them stood over the increasingly annoyed actress until the ambulance arrived.
Once Margaret had been taken off to the hospital to be thoroughly examined, August immediately called Jameson, and sent everyone else home. When some of the crew offered to stay and help clean up, he waved them away impatiently. Then, he paced the quiet set, waiting for his boss to show up. It was almost eerie being there alone, roaming the fake places, free of fake people. When he heard the front door open, though, he rushed back, calling out to Jameson as he went.
“Jimson, what the hell is going on with my set?” the man barked out before he could even see August.
August didn’t yell back, but instead, waited until he found the man. By then, he was breathless, and beckoned him into the office so he’d have a chance to catch it. “Um, yes, about that,” he stuttered once he was behind his desk. He started to sit but when it was clear Jameson wasn’t going to, he thought it best he didn’t either.