They worked. All of them. Bishop barely let them stop for lunch, drilling them with even deeper character studies and scene improvisations, demanding that they delve into their roles more than they ever had before. And he would know if they didn’t, he threatened.
But no one minded. There was something fire-bright in him that hadn’t been there before, raging almost to the point of insanity. It was so contagious that they all found themselves shoveling the food into their mouths as quickly as they could to rush back to the living room where he paced back and forth with his head lolled back and hands shoved deep in his pockets.
No one dared suggest he eat with them. And all the while, Jason watched on from the side or the counter with his familiar lazy smile and slouching at ease.
“Holdin
