Exposure

by Morgan

  “Thank you.” He spun to face his ship’s pilot. “David, as you know, you’re talking to Kyle and Michelle on the radio, and even though we’re doing your cut-aways in LA, we’ve set up the audio to get your vocal performance today. If you’re up for it.”

  “Absolutely.” David already had his lines memorized, even though his part of the sequence wouldn’t be filmed until another day.

  Nathan tossed a radio with orange tape and a big rubbery antennae to the actor. “Let’s put David right next to me, and if this works like it should, we’ll save everyone a week of mixing sound in post.”

  “Okay, what’s next?” Nathan thought for a moment before addressing David and Michelle. “I want to see if we can beef up the emotion between your characters. You’re both passionate people, and I want to capitalize on that. David, you’re on the ship, and all you have are their voices on the radio. Michelle, you’ve got both their voices in your ears. I need you to go right up to the line of melodrama, tip-toe on it if you have to. Shit! Cross it if you have to. Your vocal performance is what’s going to sell this scene. The strain, the fear, the fatigue. It all needs to come out.”

  “No problem,” Michelle promised.

  Lastly, Nathan picked up the flight suits from the empty chair he had put them in. “These are for today.” Nathan handed his leading man and lady their costumes. “Alix made adjustments for the harnesses and for Michelle’s effects pack. Plus, she put extra padding in the crotches.”

  Kyle nodded. He’d done enough harness work to join the Cirque du Soleil and could appreciate more attention to an actor’s comfort. He looked over at Michelle and noticed that she looked every bit as nervous as he predicted she’d be. The frightening reality of the harness shoot alone had almost been enough for her to turn down the role in the first place.

  Kyle couldn’t suppress a grin. He was going to make this a very long day for her, especially after finding out that she had been slutting it up behind his back.

  “Are we going to have any wind today?” Kyle asked innocently and watched Michelle’s eyes widen and her mouth shrink.

  “None,” Nathan stated, eyeing Kyle suspiciously.

  Michelle didn’t look relieved, which only encouraged Kyle to keep at it.

  “That crane looks about as old as Texas itself,” Kyle supplied mildly. “I hope you didn’t scrape all the rust off when you dressed it.” He finally got a full-fledged flinch from Michelle and almost sighed with satisfaction.

  “It’s a two thousand and two Greer!” Nathan said sharply. “And I know what you’re doing, Kyle.” He looked at the man for a long time. “I will drop you from the scene. Keep it up and see if I don’t. There’s no reason why she couldn’t be out there by herself. In fact, that’s just like her character to do something like that.”

  Kyle closed his mouth. Nathan knew his weakness.

  “I thought this was all behind us anyway,” Nathan said in an exasperated tone to no one in particular.

  “Why don’t you ask David who he’s been behind lately?” Kyle responded petulantly. He turned the printout so Nathan could see the headline and the accompanying photo of Michelle and David, nearly cheek to cheek.

  David was incensed. “Now listen…” he began, but Michelle stopped him by taking his hand.

  She gave David a quick apologetic look before standing up and addressing Kyle. “Since when do you care about me? Deal with it, Kyle. Who I see is none of your concern,” Michelle scolded him.

  She then walked out of the meeting, leaving everyone else sitting at the table.

  With Michelle gone, Nathan and Kyle looked at David.

  “Um. Sorry about that.” He didn’t know what else to say as he rose from his seat. “She probably just didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  David left without another word, and as the door closed behind him, he heard Kyle attempt to roar at Nathan. The tirade was short-lived, however, as the door flew open a moment later and the director steamed past David, nearly knocking him over.

  Kyle was left to fume alone at the table. He looked down, seeking his watch, but it still wasn’t there. He’d formed a strong habit of checking it often, and it only succeeded in reminding him of what he lost.

  It would’ve at least been something if Kyle understood that his departed watch was actually a metaphor for the woman he’d betrayed and therefore lost forever. But he just missed his watch.

  When he finally did get up to take his costume to his trailer, he left behind a printout that had been ripped into pieces.

  Chapter Nineteen

  AN HOUR AFTER THE TENSE PRODUCTION MEETING, Kyle and Michelle were hanging twelve feet off the ground. It wasn’t nearly as high as Michelle had imagined, but somehow, that made it seem worse. She couldn’t help herself from looking down, but it was better than looking at Kyle.

  Unfortunately, Nathan’s crew was trying to light her face through her helmet, and she wasn’t helping by not looking at her mark. He understood her fear as well as her anger and was trying hard to work around both. The sooner he got the thumbs up from his lighting chief, the sooner he could begin shooting.

  “Why don’t you use the lights inside the helmets?” Alix asked as she approached with a mango smoothie that had given her an orange mustache. “The ones we used for the power failure scene when we first got here.”

  “Son of a bitch!” Nathan exclaimed. “That’s genius!”

  “Thank you,” she said sweetly.

  “No, thank you!” Nathan replied. “Would you go get the helmets for us? I’ll hold your smoothie.”

  Alix shrugged. “I can try. They were taken back to the props department.”

  “Then don’t worry about it. I’ll have one of the grips track them down.” He should’ve known that his greedy geeks in the props department would’ve reclaimed them from the costume mistress.

  Alix waved off his retraction. “I’m happy to give you a hand, Nathan,” she replied before skipping away.

  Nathan looked up at Kyle and Michelle, hanging like puppets in a closet. He held the radio to his mouth, but his regretful eyes said it all. “Sorry about this, guys. We’re going to switch out your helmets.”

  Nathan raised his voice. “Okay, people! That’s a ten!”

  Kyle was staring at Michelle, willing her to tell him to stop. After all, she was his mark. “So, I guess David must be into older women,” he mused aloud when the break was called.

  Michelle ignored him. She tried to anyway, but he was clearly planning to needle her all day, quietly, so only she could hear him.

  Alix quickly returned with the two helmets. She then found a chair and set it up on the other side of David. She leaned in to speak to him and detected his scent. It reminded her of being in a forest near the ocean.

  She touched his arm lightly. “Can you help me think of a few things to do with Shaunna this week?” Alix spoke softly, but Nathan heard her anyway and nudged David’s other arm before he could answer her.

  “That’s a good idea,” Nathan remarked. “I don’t want Michelle losing any sleep, and Shaunna deserves to have a social life while she’s here.”

  David was concerned by Nathan’s cool tone and wanted to straighten the record as soon as possible.

  “Look, Nathan, about Michelle…”

  “I want you rested this week as well,” Nathan said, steamrolling over David’s words. “If you can help Alix in looking after Shaunna, I’d greatly appreciate it. If not, then at least stay out of the Kyle and Michelle circus until we’ve wrapped and left this state in the dust cloud I found it in.”

  David really wanted to clear the air with Nathan, but realized the middle of a scene wasn’t the time or place for it. He decided to drop the subject of Michelle altogether in favor of thinking of ways to entertain Shaunna every night. Maybe he wouldn’t even need Alix at all.

  One of the grips rode a cherry picker up to the actors, carrying the new helmets. He overheard them talking as he neared their altitude.

 
“…only money, Kyle. We already have more than we can spend.”

  “Maybe you do,” he replied snidely. “Especially after you’ve robbed me blind with Thomas Harper, of all people!”

  “Is that what this is about?” She focused her attention on the grip while he put her helmet on her. “You’re mad because I picked your nemesis as my divorce attorney?”

  Kyle took his helmet from the crew man and waved him down. “No, I don’t care who loses your case for you.”

  “Is it David, then?” Michelle said sweetly. Maybe it had something to do with her general discomfort in the harness, but she was feeling feisty. “You really don’t want to hear about David, do you?”

  “No,” Kyle confirmed. “I don’t.”

  Michelle was sick to her stomach, yet she continued to look down. Her anxiety was evident beneath her sharp tone. Enough time had passed since the meeting that she was feeling embarrassment over her exit.

  Nathan’s voice crackled in their ears. “Michelle, I need you to be looking at your mark as soon as we call action.”

  “Okay.” She knew Nathan was worried about her, but arguing with Kyle had given her something else to focus on, and she looked up with lava in her eyes.

  “We’re going to take it from the top and walk it to the edge. If you need a line, call for it, but then keep going until I cut. We need to make sure we’re tracking you correctly all the way to the last pull out.”

  Both actors agreed with curt, military nods. Michelle loved live theatre and preferred to run a scene all the way through in order to better capture changes in tone and tension. Kyle hated it because it meant that he had to listen to someone else talk.

  Nathan, who had accepted the rest of Alix’s mango smoothie during the break, was feeling much better and winked at his AD, who was standing nearby and waiting for the playful signal.

  “Cameras ready?” Arnie’s voice rang out loud and clear, even from behind his clipboard.

  “Ready,” came a nearby response and two others from various other locations on-set.

  “Crane ready?” Arnie boomed again as he tilted his head up.

  Nathan looked up too. He envied the crane operator, a cranky fellow named Ralph who wouldn’t let anyone else even sit in the big chair, even when he had the keys in his pocket.

  “Ready,” came his gruff voice from the cab at the base of the monstrous arm that loomed over the outdoor setup.

  “Effects ready?” Arnie walked away after his last question in order to help guide Camera One.

  From directly below the dangling actors and next to the second camera came an affirmative reply to the last check.

  “Action!” Nathan yelled as he put headphones on so he could hear the actors breathing. It was going to be vital that their breathing become almost like a metronome in a scene that was going to build slowly and then rush down the tracks like the homemade roller coaster they constructed.

  White and yellow smoke issued from tubes below the actors as two metal plated hoses were waggled tragically and strategically in front of the camera before being set down by two grips.

  Camera One, the master shot camera with Jonathan riding the jib, moved up slowly and settled in the air in front of the marionette-like actors.

  “Grant!” Michelle’s voice for Amanda had a gentle Georgian accent to it.

  “Amanda! Can you get to me?” Kyle sounded a little bored, but Nathan wasn’t overly concerned with the lackluster beginning. He knew from experience that he was going to get his best stuff when they were both sore and frustrated. For now, he just focused on what the cameras and microphones were picking up the first time through the scene. Both actors swam frantically toward each other. As they did, the crane buzzed from behind muffled hydraulics, and both actors began turning sideways.

  “Captain Edge to the Zenith! Come in, Zenith!” Kyle was a master at what David called Come in, Houston dialogue.

  “Honey, I think we’ve lost power to communications and temperature control.” Michelle’s voice was steady, but she allowed just enough of a tremble to let the audience know that it was time to worry.

  “Come in, Zenith! Our radios are out!” Kyle didn’t skimp on energy when he delivered lines where he was allowed to yell at someone. Nathan had always thought the line was hilarious and summed up Captain Edge perfectly. The fact that Kyle delivered it without a hint of irony, whether intentional or not, was a godsend.

  Michelle was extremely dizzy, which only allowed for a more realistic portrayal of her character’s plight. “Grant, this looks bad, but at least we repaired the shield and gave the crew a fighting chance to get home.”

  “Screw the crew! We’re the ones who just got a death sentence!”

  Alix nudged David and repeated the first part of the line under her breath, then added, “I bet that’s Kyle’s bumper sticker.” David swatted at her playfully.

  “We’re not dead yet, Grant! In fact…I think I know how we can reach each other and kick-start the radio! Now, I have to make sure that I’m facing you directly and—”

  “Why haven’t they turned around? Every minute they waste is unforgivable!” Kyle played impatience well.

  “Yes, but we still might be able to contact them. Grant, you need to get ready to—”

  “You’re crazy! We’re dead! We should never have come out here!”

  Michelle paused and took a good hard look at Kyle before delivering her next line. “You’re right. We should never have come out here. But there’s still something we can do to save ourselves…if we work together.”

  “We’ll die together!” Kyle spat.

  “We’ll die apart.” Michelle reached behind her suit and began unscrewing something on her pack.

  “Cue effect!” Nathan called out, and a jet of gas issued from Michelle’s pack and thrust her forward and into Kyle’s arms.

  “Amanda! What have you done?” Kyle was face to face with his estranged wife, who had a warrior’s look in her eyes and gripped his arms with determined hands. “I had no idea you were so brave!” he finished breathlessly.

  “It’s not bravery, my love.” Michelle didn’t mean to deliver the line as sadly as she did, but she was also unprepared for the sudden proximity to him. “I just have nothing left to lose.”

  They both acted like they were linking their suits with multiple cables. They each had colored marks to touch on each suit. Digital tubes and hoses would be added later using CGI.

  “All right, that does it. Life support is linked, but we don’t have much time. When I said I wanted to spend forever in your arms, this is not what I meant.”

  “Oh, that’s…uh…” Kyle made a face. “Shit! Line!”

  Gary read Grant’s line from somewhere near Camera Three. “How are you going to boost…”

  “How are you going to boost the radio?” Kyle delivered his line far too angrily, unusable. It was too bad, because Nathan felt it was a decent first take so far. He said nothing and let the cameras continue to roll.

  Michelle began typing on a futuristic wrist band with a touch screen. “I’m almost there…Zenith! Zenith! Do you read me?”

  David spoke into his radio from his seat between Alix and Nathan. He was not reading from a script, and his voice took on a pinched quality.

  “This is Zenith. What happened? Are you back aboard?”

  Nathan loved the way that David’s voice, as Nick, came through the helmets, and he shrugged one of the cans off his ears.

  “The AG cable broke! We slipped completely off the solar shield! We’re seventy seconds aft!” Captain Edge barked.

  “What? Oh shit!…um…I mean, don’t panic! We’re reversing thrust! Can you ping us?” David’s delivery was perfect.

  “Yes,” Michelle said. “I think so…No…Oh no…I can’t…”

  “We’re dead.” Kyle delivered the line like he was announcing that dinner was ready.

  Nathan needed him to amp up his emotion, but didn’t bother asking for it. He should have all the emotion he
would need by take fifteen or so.

  “Wait! Zenith, do you think you would be able to see a moon flare?” Michelle’s delivery was, as usual, dead on target.

  “We wouldn’t have a lot of time to stop, but I think so.” David was doing well, not upstaging, enunciating his words, and allowing his humanity to filter through the fuzz.

  “Do it! Nick!” Kyle delivered that line all wrong.

  Nathan sighed. He knew he was going to have to shoot the scene multiple times no matter what, but feared only that his leading man’s performance was going to be stubbornly consistent.

  “Stand by.” Again, David’s commanding tone filled their helmets, recorded by the same microphones that were picking up their voices. This created a slight echo in their helmets, and Nathan loved the way that sounded.

  “Zenith, we will only be able to get one shot at this. We’re sharing life support, and we don’t know how long the radio will last.” There was a slight tremble in her voice at the beginning of her phrase and a bit of rushing at the end.

  “Don’t worry,” came David’s confident reply. “I’ll only need one shot at you.”

  “I trust you, Nick. You’ve crashed me in a few simulations, but you’ve never let me down.”

  “And I won’t.” David put his radio in his lap. His part was done.

  “When should we shoot the flare?…Zenith?…Zenith, do you copy?” Michelle looked at Kyle, who was late on his cue.

  “Uh, we’re down to life support power.”

  “We’ll use that, then.” Michelle lost none of her intensity. She stayed in the moment.

  “We’ll do no such thing!” Nathan knew that he would have plenty of good takes of this line.

  “Grant, if they can’t find us, we’re dead anyway!”

  Nathan wished that he was sitting closer to a monitor. He wanted to see Michelle’s eyes. Her voice alone was tremendously engaging.

  “Good. They’ll be here any minute!” Leave it to Kyle to play glib, right on the nose.

  “At best, they’ll miss us. At worst, they’ll hit us!”