The Hijinks War

55. New Name for This Ship

I was tired. Doing the same thing repeatedly to get it just right would do that. Especially when the set up each time took close to 40 minutes. I'd probably shove the next hairdryer I saw up the ass of the person who held it.

"All ready on set. Go for talent." A static voice sounded over the walkie-talkie held by the gopher who waited at the door of the room.

I sucked up my annoyance as I was once again doused in water; this time it was to complete my look, and not part of a scene. And it was so frigid the liquid was basically a slushie.

Shivering, despite the layers I wore, I was ushered out of the room, and met by another frozen and soaked actor, and the director at the door across the hallway. It wasn't easy to listen to him babble incessantly about how he wanted things to go. I was distracted by the fact that there were literally cubes of ice inside my clothing.

When the scene was called, I ran across the room, and slid into a table that wasn't where it should have been. Throwing back my head, I cackled and began ripping off my cold wet clothing.

"Stop moving, you idiot!" I obeyed the command that came from the other actor, only because a pair of icy hands had gripped my torso and forcefully stopped me. I shivered as the sopping lump of clothing was tugged off and discarded, leaving me in a sports bra.

The floor of the room was scattered with our shoes, socks, jackets and shirts. He was red and soaked from head to toe, and I knew I looked no better. I flipped a now melting icicle over my shoulder and we both broke down in laughter as directed.

"Stop dripping on my floor!" I threw him a towel from the closet. "Bathroom now."

As soon as the door closed behind him, I changed into a dry pair of sweats.

"You know, Love," The actor's blonde head popped out of the bathroom door, and then he shuffled across the room in nothing but a towel. "I thought we were about to have a movie moment."

A movie moment... I turned my head to hide my eye twitching as I scoffed my answer at him. "In your dreams, Love."

"All the time," he drawled.

I pulled a shirt on as he did a lousy job of keeping a straight face while saying his next line "It's getting kind of ridiculous really."

I had a feeling we'd need to do this scene again, and I really didn't want to. It was hard enough already. I grabbed the shirt off the shelf and raised an eyebrow at the blonde boy, trying hard to stay in the teasing moment. "Ridiculous how?"

He made no move to take the shirt from me, and I was glad, because my palm burned from the pressure of my fingers fisted into it.

"Awkward dreams in math class, ridiculous." He delivered his line with impeccable timing, his hand reaching to caress my face.

He guffawed like he was supposed to, and I stared at him through increasingly watery eyes, wringing the shirt in my hands. Eyes widening to alert me to my missed line, he jokingly poked me, his accent switching to a British one. "That's one for the blooper reel, then!"

I choked out a sob, and once it was out, the dam I'd been holding shut since arriving burst open. On the floor of the room that had once been mine, in front of a stranger that resembled Eddie, I broke down.

"CUT!"

"I told you we should shoot this tomorrow! She's had enough!" Scolded a voice I was thankful for having here with me, as footsteps rushed at me. A thick towel was thrown over me, and someone rubbed my back as our therapist, Susanna, continued to berate the director.