Something Like Hope

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2

The scruff on my face was scratchy and irritating as hell. Since my character was hospitalized, they’d asked me not to shave to give realism to Riley’s situation. But I knew it would be a while before I was allowed to shave it off. Especially if we couldn’t get this f*****g scene done.

My part was easy. All I had to do was lie there and breathe, with my eyes shut, and not react at all to what was going on around me. Sedated after surgery, Riley was supposed to be out of it. But the cannula in my nose was making it hard to breathe, and this was our twenty-seventh take. I wanted nothing more than to yank it out so I could breathe normally. I could have dealt with it if there was any end in sight. Maybe this time, we’d get it right.

When the director called cut, I couldn’t help the groan that escaped. Not again.

“Logan, you really need to get your s**t together. What the f**k is your problem?”

“Sorry, Con.”

Constance O’Meara was one of five or six directors that rotated through. I always liked working with her. She’d been the one to direct the previous season’s finale, and I was glad she was directing the two-part season opener. I thought it made for nice consistency, and she made me feel comfortable.

“Don’t be sorry. Just get it together,” Connie snapped. She paused and then let out a sigh. “Let’s take a ten minute break. And when we get back, I expect us to get this done.”

I didn’t bother moving. When Connie said ten minutes, she meant exactly that, and woe betide anyone who wasn’t ready when she was. I wasn’t the only one who stuck close. Most people milled around close-by. But Lucas Logan stomped off set.

I couldn’t figure out what his issue was, but he’d been like this all day. Well, ever since we’d started shooting this scene three hours ago. And paranoid as I was, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was because of the fact that Frank Geary was holding Riley Cates’s hand. Murphy Rourke was supposed to overhear Geary telling Riley what he meant to him, and then come around the curtain and place a supportive hand on his friend’s shoulder. We got that far every time, but when Lucas was supposed to be silent as Frank told Riley to get better, that he’d be waiting, Lucas f*****g Logan kept f*****g it up. And I couldn’t help but think the prick was a homophobe.

“He’s better than this,” Dan mumbled from where he’d leaned back in his chair. I turned my head to look at him as he scrubbed his hands over his face. “Everyone has off days, but not him and not like this.”

“He’s being a jerk,” I said softly. Dan and Lucas were close friends and I didn’t want to say what I was really thinking. Dan snorted out a laugh that made me think maybe he knew anyway.

“I’ll talk to him after, see where his head is at.” Dan shook his head and sat up straight. “Here we go.”

Everyone was back within another minute, and as places were called, the set fell silent. I closed my eyes and did my best to even out my breathing and to make my face impassive. Connie told us where to start, and I was glad it was near the end of the scene. I couldn’t handle it if we’d have to do the whole thing all over again. Dan took my hand in his big, warm grip.

“Action.”

“You scared the hell out of me, kid.” Dan’s voice was low but strong. I knew the boom mike over our heads would have no trouble picking it up. “You have no idea what it did to me, seeing you take that bullet. I’ve let too much time go by, denying my feelings. And that’s going to change.”

A beat of silence and then the heavy clomp of boots on tile. I knew what was supposed to be taking place, and every second that went by without Connie calling cut made me breathe a little easier.

“Hey,” Dan said.

“Hey,” Lucas answered.

A beat and then a sigh. Dan’s voice was sure but full of emotion when he said, “Things are going to change, Rourke.”

“I can see that.”

So far so good. From what I could hear, this was the best take yet, but the next part was where it all went to hell. I had to remind myself not to hold my breath.

“Get better fast, Riley. I’ll be waiting for you. And then we’ll see where this leads, okay? No more pretending.”

Utter and complete silence. No one moved. No one said a word. The air was pregnant with expectation.

“Cut,” Connie said, and I nearly wept in relief because I could tell that this time, it wasn’t full of frustration. I opened my eyes and craned my neck to the side, where I could see Connie staring at the monitor in front of her. A few more seconds where no one dared to breathe, and finally Connie sighed. “That’ll do. Let’s call it a day, people.”

The set burst into activity as everyone started moving about, packing up, going on with their business. I was relieved to pull the plastic tubing out of my nose and reminded myself that if I threw it across the room, someone else would have to find it. I dropped it on the bed instead and then hopped over the side. I didn’t look back as I headed for my dressing room.

The hospital gown I wore wasn’t exactly warm, and I would be relieved to actually put on real clothes again. I pushed open the door and then looked around. I actually had a permanent room now that I was a full-time cast member, even if I shared it with Court Scully, who played the chief of police. He was a kind, older man, with hundreds of credits to his name. I liked him and we got along. Which was more than I could ever say for Lucas Logan.

God that man! What was his damage? Over the past couple of years, I’d shot numerous scenes with him and I’d never seen him f**k up so much. I thought he was a professional. Standoffish and a bit cold with me, in a way that Dan, Mary Alice, Allison, Court and the others had never been. But I just figured that was his personality, or maybe he’d let the fame of being the star of the show go to his head. Either way, he’d always done his job and done it well. But today he’d been a jerk, missing cues and messing up. Because why? For no good reason that I could see. What an asshole.

If he had a problem with the storyline, it was up to him to take it up with the producers. He didn’t need to be such an ass. I was sure he didn’t want to leave behind the show and the fame it provided in protest, but if he kept f*****g up like this, he’d be out anyway. Then again, maybe he wouldn’t. I’m sure his contract was ironclad. Maybe this was his way of protesting. It was irritating as all hell, and if it was a portent of the way the entire shooting season would go, we’d all be in for a rough time.

I carefully hung up my costume on the rack where it was supposed to go, then quickly changed into my street clothes. I was done for the day, and I wanted nothing more than to go home and relax, let the stress of this day wash away, and forget it even happened. I wasn’t scheduled to be on set tomorrow—they were shooting on location—and I intended to sleep late and go through my lines again. I only had a few, but they were important, and I wanted to be sure I got them right. Waking up and seeing the man that I’d been apparently pining for sitting right there was sure to be a pivotal moment.

I’d worry about Lucas f*****g Logan another day.