“It’s a line in the scene…”

“Yes, yes, I know, but I forgot for a moment.”

The studio goons came up behind him; they too wore big fake smiles.

“Do you need a break?”

“No, Devon, no I’m just…”

“Great, Jackie. Well, let’s just take it again from the top, call that a rehearsal on camera. Great. You were great.” He was fingering his neck pulse.

“Sorry, Bobby! Back to the top, everyone,” Devon announced, leaping off the set. A moment later, his spike popped up in the light from behind the monitor. I squinted into the darkness. Where were Penny and Nicole? Katie rushed forward and blotted the sweat from my forehead. I searched for signs of hope in her face, the way a passenger looks to a flight attendant during heavy turbulence.

“Sorry, Bob,” I said to Verona as he once again moved to his mark.

“Ready here,” Katie called, stepping away.

“Quiet everyone,” the A.D. bellowed. “And we are row-ling!”

“Speed!”

“Scene fifty-six take two!”

“Aaaand…action!”

“Ms. Sommer…” Verona approached the stand.

The room was hot, the lights blazing. Someone was whispering. I shaded my eyes.

“Ms. Sommer?” Robert Verona glared at me.

“Huh?”

“Ms. Sommer?” he repeated.

“Yes? Oh, shit sorry, sorry, Bob. Line?”

“Call me Junie,” the script supervisor called out.

“Call me Junie,” I said.

“Okay, Junie, why were you following the victim?”

“He had asked me to go to his room.”

“Did you go?”

There was scuffling over by the camera.

“No, I mean. Goddamnit! Is someone talking out there?” I yelled.

“Sorry,” Devon called.

“Are you going to cut?” I asked.

“No,” Devon replied.

“Line?”

“Well yes…” the script supervisor called out.

“Well yes, I was suspicious.”

More scuffling and whispers. What is going on?

“Why were you suspicious?” Verona asked.

“Because… For Chris’sake, shut up out there!” I slammed my hand down on the railing.

“Sorry, Jackie,” Devon called out.

“Devon, may we please cut and start over?”

Silence.

“Devon? Hello?”

“I’m here.”

“Well, shit, cut the scene!”

“Um, no can do.”

“What the hell, Devon?”

“Christ, just say your lines, young lady!” Verona barked.

“Say the lines please, Jackie,” Steve Connigan pleaded.

“What is going on?” I demanded.

Silence.

“Devon?”

Silence.

Where the hell were Nicole and Penny? I squinted past the lights at Verona and the other actors’ frozen faces, at Katie, and the makeup crew, the grips—everyone was staring at me. I felt like a bug frying under a magnifying glass.