The Silver Screen Wars

18 - Broken clock

Her thoughts?

Kodi threw an aggravated hand up at the question. He wanted to know what she thought, did he? No doubt this was just another excuse to embarrass her. Surely he knew that she had little formal education or experience in acting, that she had little idea of the theories behind it and only knew of the practice. To try to articulate what she said in a proper way - ha, fine. She'd just speak her mind, then.

"Script reads like a broken map," she said, her voice coming out stilted and sharp even though she was doing her best to hold back. Jason would be out any second, after all. "Four characters, but none of them ever connect with each other. No dialogue. I mean they look at each other, they end up in the same room together sometimes, and that's it. The moment's over. I don't know what we're supposed to do with that."

In the silence that followed, she pursed her lips when she saw Bishop shift on his stool and flash her a smug smirk. Clearly he had something to say. Clearly he wanted to say it. Was it to ridicule her? Mock her for her obliviousness and tell her to read the script again? Maybe he would send her back to her room without supper until she figured out what marvelous, groundbreaking lesson he had buried in these half-baked pages.

Well then, what was stopping him?

"Anyone agree with her?" asked Bishop, looking from one face to the other with a growing smile. "Nothing?"

Ah, there it was. Ostracizing her again, was he? Fine, if he wanted to play that game then she would tolerate it for the sake of the money. She wasn't here to make friends, after all. If he wanted to make the point that no one would cross him for her sake, then he was wasting his time - Kodi had already known that her coworkers would side with their director if it ever came down to it. Hadn't even been a question in her mind, really.

She wasn't voicing her opinions with the misconception that any of the others would second them. She was voicing them simply because no one else was going to.

And if no one was going to back her up, then f**k 'em. She knew what she had said, and she was sticking to it.

"...I mean, could be I'm just missing something, but I know what you mean."

What? Kodi's eyes darted over to Drake, who was now rubbing his chin and skimming the pages again. Oh, right. He'd mentioned it earlier just before Jason had arrived, hadn't he? He had said himself that he thought the scenes felt interrupted, disconnected - something. So she wasn't alone after all, then.

She glanced over at Bishop who was still grinning. What was he finding so funny? She'd just inelegantly criticized his story writing, and now the ratty opossum kid was agreeing with her too. He should be pissed off. He should be fuming. And yet he looked like he was having fun, smirking, oozing ego and amusement and cool island breezes...and that made Kodi infinitely more nervous than his anger ever would have.

She'd never thought Bishop could ever make her feel nervous, but here they were.

"Alexis? Taylor? Awfully quiet. Take a chance. Say something smart."

Oh, so now he was pulling everyone into the mess. Kodi tried to think bitterly of it, but she couldn't help the relief that pooled in the bottom of her stomach. Even if the other two disagreed with her (and Drake, she supposed begrudgingly), they were still part of the discourse. If a leak sprang, they were all going down on this ship together. No lifeboats and no floaties.

We drown like idiots, she thought with a sour determination.

"You pulled out the dialogue, maybe?" Alexis sat up and held out the script, gripping it from the bottom left corner and curving the sheets so that it stayed upright in her grasp. "Maybe you have the lines separate from this? I figured you might have done that so we can taste the overall story first without getting too sucked in by the details."

Oh. Kodi stilled, mulling over the woman's words and wondering with sinking dread if she was right after all. She'd never run into a director who had used that strategy before, but in Hollywood, there were all sorts of off-the-wall methods to get actors in tune with their projects. Even so, she didn't see how it would be useful to separate the script into two portions, much less keep the more important half from the cast.

If that was what Bishop had really done, then her respect for him would plummet even more than it already had. Past rock bottom all the way down to subterranean levels. Why was he sitting there just wasting their time so unapologetically?

"Taylor, you're still quiet. You don't get a pass, so open your mouth and contribute. They need to know what's in your head."

Kodi turned her attention on the final member of the group, the only one who had yet to speak. But instead of answering, he remained silent and kept his head down to stare at the script in his lap. She noted the way he clutched at the sheets with white-knuckled grips, the reddening flush of his cheeks, the twist of his mouth in an unhappy grimace.

Not much of a talker, was he? But Bishop only continued to stare at Taylor and wait on elbows propped over the countertop. He either didn't notice or was simply ignoring the latter's clear and growing discomfort, and Kodi couldn't tell whether it was because he genuinely wanted an answer or if it was because he simply wanted to torment the poor guy.

Warmed by a sudden rush of sympathy, Kodi found herself wanting to jump in and spare him the need to respond to Bishop's demand. Strange. Ordinarily, she wouldn't have cared, would have mentally chided him for being so unprepared to enter the talkative world that was the acting business. But something about him being singled out by the director just as she had been...it made her hackles rise. Did she look like that too, so victimized and helpless?

Of course she didn't. But that was because she knew how to give as good as she got, and if the number of times she had provoked Bishop to near-fisticuffs was any indication, then she knew how to stand her ground and butt heads for the sake of her self-respect.

But not this guy. Maybe he was shy, or maybe he was socially awkward - there were any number of reasons he was finding it so difficult to reply to Bishop. And for some reason, the director was making everything more painful for him than it had to be.

Sure, Kodi knew she was biased. She might not have felt half so sympathetic if she didn't already despise their tyrannical director, but that was just how it was. Forget everything else, forget that it admittedly made sense to ask everyone for their initial opinions on the script they would all be using.

Because by God, she was going to continue to make things difficult for Bishop for as long as he remained an ass. She opened her mouth, sucked in a preparatory breath, and felt a familiar rush of adrenaline course through her as she rifled through her selection of the most obnoxious things to say to break the tense silence.

It was Jason's return that diverted the debacle, as it so happened. Just before Kodi could say the thing that was on the tip of her tongue - in the same instant that Bishop glanced at her with a menacing look in immediate comprehension of her intentions - the bald man strode back into the den with a lazy smile for everyone. He then turned and took the stool at the counter next to Bishop, evidently unaware that he had just prevented an incident of nuclear proportions.

He was getting better and better at that, thought Kodi. So much so that he was even doing it on accident now.

"Sorry, go on," Jason urged with a wave of his hand when he realized everyone was now watching him (minus Bishop, who was still glaring at Kodi). "Didn't mean to interrupt. You guys talking about...?"

Here was her chance. She waved at him and pointed at the now-slightly rumpled papers in her other hand.

"The script," she said. "We're all just throwing theories about what happened to it."

"About what happened...?"

Didn't he know? She had thought that Bishop would surely share all his secrets with Jason, at least. She knew well of the Bishop's reputation for taking the majority of the creative duties of film-making upon himself, doing the work of a dozen writers on his own to the great amazement of the rest of Hollywood. But still, he had to have someone to knock heads with, someone to bounce ideas off of.

A confidant, she supposed. Wasn't that supposed to be Jason? Obviously he was going to be the linchpin of the cast, the main star and central role that held together the whole short film. Star power, charisma, good looks, experience, a sterling reputation - everyone else was a rookie, so who else would Bishop trust?

Kodi dismissed the idea that the director would ever keep anything to himself. He was a braggart and a show horse, he would never. Pompousness required an audience, and considering how patient and enduring Jason Monlavia was with him at all times, it was obvious to Kodi exactly who that audience would be.

"There's no talking in it," she explained. She gave the pages another shake. "Also only four characters, so not sure what's happening since there's supposed to be five of us."

"So well-spoken, Kodiak Clyde." Bishop clapped his hands together in sarcastic applause. "No talking in it," he mocked. "Any other profound observations you want to make?"

Oh, yes. Oh, yes. This was her opportunity. He wanted profound observations? Then eat this, she thought.

"The characters are empty. I can't see anything defining about them. You could literally give any one of these characters a barrel of traits pulled from a hat and at least half of them could fit. The first guy, the one with the white half-mask or something on his face, that's the most specific thing we know about him. His mask. The rest of him's confusing. He frees Blue or whatever, and then he waits until she passes out in the desert to bring her back, and then he never sees her again until the end when he tries to kill her. How are we supposed to understand that when there's not a word spoken in this whole thing? I don't know who any of these people are."

Kodi rattled off her complaints with a granite determination to not hold back, knowing full well that the others around her were silently begging her to stop. Taylor was steadily growing even redder and continuing to stare down at his lap, now nearing the hue of a stick of cartoon dynamite. Drake had sucked in his lips between his teeth as he watched her. And Alexis - well, Alexis was actually skimming the script again, but Kodi wasn't sure if the woman was genuinely focused on something else or if she was simply trying to avoid eye contact.

And Bishop. Bishop and Jason, actually. For some reason, they looked pleased, even amused. Really? She'd thought that Jason at the very least would be giving her a disapproved look, or a perfectly neutral one that betrayed nothing at best.

Clearly she was missing something here.

Bishop turned to look at the man next to him. "She's so dumb that she's right," he said. "Guess even a broken clock is right twice a day."

"Hey, you're ragging on her again," said Jason, and he gave Kodi a thumbs up that she narrowed her eyes at. "You got it. I haven't seen the script myself yet, but that sounds about right."

She scowled and placed the pages down on her flat armrest, leaving it there so that she could fold up one leg up onto the cushion and turn slightly in the seat to face them. "What sounds about right?"

"You said cookie-cutter, didn't you?" asked Bishop. He gave her a nasty smile reminiscent of someone about to tell her a piece of delightfully awful news:

"You're going to create your roles now, and no one's eating or sleeping until everything's done."