952 Perfect Acting
The Abandoned Realm, Scene 24B, Take 2. The clapper clapped with a click, and everything went off without a hitch.
At first anyway.
"Oh, and, uh, one more thing," Tyler leaned even closer, nearly knocking a large platter of french fries. He lowered his voice, speaking in a whisper. "With all due respect, and I mean this with all my heart, coming from one loving son of a mother to another, I gotta tell ya... your mom's absolutely got it going on like goddamn—I'm not even kidding..." "Are you ever not attracted to every woman you see or are your hormones just forever broken?" I asked him. "Fine art is meant to be appreciated, my dude," he responded with a smile and wink. "Besides, your mom just gives off the vibe. That scary, stranger-danger vibe. Amelia's got the same thing. Know what I mean? Gonna blame me for liking my girls with a little bite?" "That's my mom you're talking about." "And I tip my hat to your dad, all the respect," He said, pumping his chest with his fist. "An absolute chad. Knows what's good. Clearly, a man of fine taste." Fine taste, huh? If it really was just because of looks alone that had my Dad abandoning his duty to save the world then I'm not sure 'Chad' would be the word I'd use. "Came all the way to see you, that right? Watch their little boy, all grown up, perform with a bunch of potential a-listers?" Tyler's eyes drifted back toward the set, the smile on his lips a little more genuine, a peculiar look in his eyes as if seeing more than what was there. "Bet they're real proud of their boy, aren't they? Hey, I'm happy for you, big man." I could tell what he was thinking about. It didn't need spelling out, it didn't need even saying. His expression conveyed everything. But no, there was no sadness, not even the smallest sliver of wistfulness. Just a guy that was simply happy for his friend.
And if there was anything truly worth respecting of a man, it was that.
"Food's getting cold," I said, taking my leave. "See you around, Tyler." He threw me a thumbs-up in return, watching me go. "You up for seconds, remember—I'm your guy." With the amount of food I got wobbling around even when taking small, careful steps, I don't think I'll make it through first let alone seconds. I certainly could try if I wanted to give the Director an aneurysm—watching his Chester waddling back on set with a hefty gut with the buttons on his shirt becoming unlicensed projectiles on top of everything else. There were a few collapsible tables scattered here and there, and I chose one close enough to the set just in case I'm ever needed for anything. But I highly doubt I would be. I also wasn't one to capitalize on this pause in schedule. Some of the crew were huddled around in their own separate groups looking absolutely demoralized and exhausted. I could catch a few of their mutters, bits and pieces, and unsurprisingly, the centerpiece of their discussion revolved around the brand-new hire. The girl in the middle thought she was nice when the cameras weren't rolling, yet the guy to her right couldn't disagree more; calling her terrifying in the most insidious way possible. And the other guy just on the right just simply said she was hot and found no need to elaborate further. All in all, seems that reception was quite a mixed bag. I thought about scooting a little closer to try and hear more, only to then notice they suddenly went completely silent. A moment later, I immediately realized why. "Mind if I join you?" Speak of the devil, and they shall appear. I don't think there would be a more fitting use of the phrase ever again than right then. Mom's kind, polite smile loomed over at me from above. In seams and streams of deep black, and especially at that angle—I almost didn't recognize her. For just a single instant, I felt my heart beat harder. Somehow, I get the feeling this won't be the last time something like that happens....