Picture 2
Kimmydonn's Choice: Both
Title:
Lisa flounced into her chair on the edge of the set. She was just about fed up with this rig. The director couldn’t seem to get his head out of his ass long enough to plan the shoots. If she’d known that she was going to be filming the finale instead of the opening, she would have prepared for that, but yesterday, he’d been adamant that they’d be starting with the opening sequence. Now she was on her eighth take. She’d never needed eight takes for anything! What was with this guy? Why couldn’t he explain what he wanted? Why couldn’t he make up his mind?
“Here.”
A bottle of her favorite juice blend appeared over her shoulder and she smiled. Leaning back, she tipped her head to see Ford standing behind her.
“What would I do without you?”
“Be mauled by stupid teenagers,” he answered honestly. “Get dehydrated and even crabbier than you are now.”
Lisa chuckled and sipped her juice. “Do you know what this guy wants?” she asked. The director was busy fighting with the lighting to get the glare on the suitcase just right. “I mean, who cares about the damn suitcase?”
“Did you read the whole script?” Ford asked.
“Not yet,” Lisa admitted, sitting up. “I focused on the beginning because that’s what I was supposed to be shooting.” They’d done a few scenes from the middle but nothing from the end, so she hadn’t gotten that far yet.
“Your entire life is in that suitcase. It’s your life raft that is taking you out of this shitty town, shitty marriage, and shitty job. Everything the bastard that beat you would let you take is in that bag.”
Lisa’s eyes narrowed, focusing on the prop for the first time. “How do you know?” she asked.
“It’s based on a book I read. This is only one portion of the story though.”
Lisa turned her chair to look at the burly guard. “Do you still have a copy?”
He shook his head. “No. I never hang on to things like that. I can find it for your Kindle.”
“Please? Only one part. What comes next?”
“Well, like all good love stories, it doesn’t end.”
She scoffed. “It has to end.”
“Why? I think the last words were ‘to be continued.’”
Lisa rolled her eyes and fought a groan. “Please tell me the movie doesn’t end that way.”
“Why?”
“One, I hate movies that end ‘to be continued,’ and two, I do not want to work with this jackass again.”
Ford chuckled. “Well, I can’t say for sure, but if it’s true to the book-”
“Don’t say it,” she interrupted.
“Lisa, on set,” the makeup artist called, pulling out her brushes.
“Life in a bag,” she murmured to herself. She would nail this next take.
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