Husband For Hire

14. Attractive Eyes

14. Attractive Eyes
Life is much simpler when put on a sheet of paper.

"I can't believe it!"

I paced inside my bedroom, embarrassed by my actions, muttering whatever came to my mind. The maids helped escort Sunny to the guest bedroom and bathroom. While he waited there for his clothes to be dried off, I settled in my bedroom, away from everyone's laughter. My room's door opened widely and Ashar stepped in, his face lit up.

He thoroughly enjoyed the moment the water drenched Sunny instead of him.

"What do you want?" I asked harshly.

"An instant replay of what happened ten minutes ago." The amused smile hovering on his lips irked me.

"I was trying to dump ice water on you," I spat.

He rolled his eyes and plopped down on the bed, allowing laughter to escape his lips again. "You missed pretty badly." I couldn't hold my stern expression. "You can laugh, you know," he said comically looking at me. To think about it, the entire incident was hilarious. I cracked a smile which earned me a pleasant smile from Ashar.

An idea suddenly popped up in my head.

I thought about putting the scene in one of my scripts.

"Just imagine," I said, my head in another world, "the protaganist stepping inside the house furiously, the door banging shut behind her. Pan the camera around her, stop at a close up." I shut my eyes, imagining it like a picture. "Cut to an over the shoulder at the servants in front of her. She screams at a maid for a bucket of cold water, which a scared looking maid brings to her soon enough. Mid shots? Maybe. Then, the heroine steps seven or eight feet away from the door, in perfect angle to throw the water. The music in the background starts to rise. The camera cuts in the door knob followed by an extreme close up of the heroine's eyes! The music reaches a crescendo and the sound of the door rattle butts in. The anxiousness on her face deepens.

"The door knob finally turns a three-sixty degrees and the bucket of water swings in the air. Instead of just the water, the bucket lands on the guy's face, still maintaining the mystery. How about an over-the-shoulder shot?" I bring out my hands, my eyes squeezed tightly, and guide them in a camera position. "Suddenly, another face slides behind the guy's shoulder, next to his face. So a two shot. Well, it's the bucket there, but you know what I mean. So, maybe a medium shot . . . I dunno how well a close up would work. There's supposed to be an element of surprise so--"

I abruptly pause, confused which shot would work in the scenario.

When I met his eyes, I realized he was looking at me like if I was some lunatic.

"Medium shot or close up?" I asked. "Oh my god, how about a point of the view in the beginning to show the anger?!" I no longer cared what he thought about me or the director inside me. "I have to write this down! Quick, grab me a pen and some paper!"

"Do I look like your maid?" He crossed his arms, refusing to budge.

"I thought we were planning on being more civilized towards each other," I pointed out. "You better take the first step or I refuse to be in love with you."

He sighed tiredly before pulling out a pen from his jacket's pocket. I supposed the designer in him always carried a pen or a pencil. Meanwhile, I searched for paper, which I already had a supply of tucked in one of my dresser drawers. It was for emergency purposes like today. Times when ideas were erupting like volcanoes. I searched for the chair next to my dresser, but it was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's the chair?" I asked, frowning.

Ashar shrugged, though something about his expression seemed shady. "How would I know?"