Page 19 of Camera Stays On

“Oh, right. Sorry, force of habit.” He rubbed the back of his neck as we sat in stone-cold silence.

“I don’t want this.” I slid the check across the table. “I have a job.”

“What, at perv’s palace?” He scoffed. “This is a real movie, Purdy. This was our dream. You, me, Ash. It wouldn’t be right without you there.”

My heart skipped a beat when he mentioned Ash.

“Does he know you’re here?” I asked, trying not to sound too interested.

“Of course he does. He wants you too.”

I pressed my lips together tightly.

How heavy those words were—and he didn’t even know it.

Sawyer reached for the backpack he’d had on the floor, pulling out a script. He offered it to me, and I took it gingerly.

“Ash to Moth?” I read the title and looked up at him, cocking my head curiously. He rolled his eyes and shook it off.

“It’s meant to be a play on—it doesn’t matter, just read it.” He handed me a blue folder, setting it on top. “This is a rundown of my plans for the movie. Our schedule, the dream cast, the crew, all of it. We just need the star.”

“And you think it’s me?” I scoffed. The waitress brought our coffees and pastries and begrudgingly, I reached for the muffin. “Did you forget I have a speech impediment and zero acting experience?”

“Oh, hardly!” He rolled his eyes. “You sound great, Purdy. Look.” He leaned in, forcing me to do the same. “This movie was written for you. This has been our dream for so long. Just read the script and call me.”

Our dream?

It had taken a long time and a couple hundred miles to realize that none of the plans we used to talk about were truly our dreams. Staring at him across the table, I felt like I’d been thrown back in time. Back into Sawyer’s world, where the rest of us just existed for him to play with.

Suddenly, I wasn’t hungry. I gathered up the script and folder and stood.

“It’s been nice, but I have to go, Sawyer. G-G-Goodbye,” I huffed, hating how anxious he made me feel in such a short time.

He stood and slapped the check on top of my pile, along with a business card. “Call me.”

I returned to work and sulked in my booth. The script sat on my counter, calling to me. Eventually, I couldn’t resist and opened it.

I spent the afternoon reading the script and was surprised to find that I’d enjoyed it. It was a good story. My gaze drifted to the check beside me. Would it be so bad to join the cast?

Yes.

God, it would be so bad. Sure, I’d finally have money I could set aside. For a bit I wouldn’t have to live paycheck to paycheck, but Sawyer was toxic, possessive, and overall just a selfish asshole. I was miserable when we were together, and while I had no desire to be with him ever again, it was clear that he didn’t feel the same. And… Sawyer always had a way of getting what he wanted.

Knowing I had to cut things off, I used the work phone to call Sawyer. I left a voicemail, telling him no.

“I’m s-s-sorry. I can’t. I have a life here now. Please, don’t come back.”

Later, my shift ended, and I took the things he’d given me upstairs and grabbed my gym bag, stuffing his card and the check inside for safekeeping. Despite having worked out and showered that morning, I didn’t want to break routine and decided to go twice today. If I got there soon, I could go swimming. I felt a sense of unease as I walked to the gym. I looked over my shoulder every few feet and checked the storefronts, just in case Sawyer was following me. I relaxed some when I pushed through the doors of the gym and forced myself to forget about him while I was there. My workout was tough, and I soaked in the hot tub longer than usual. By the time I was showered and back on the streets, it was dark. I’d just stepped onto my block when I heard sirens. A beat later, a firetruck followed by an ambulance flew around the corner.

Something in my bones told me I needed to get back to the theater. I bolted forward, running down the block. The more firetrucks and police that passed, the deeper my dread grew in my stomach. I didn’t stop, my lungs screaming for me to slow, but the need to prove it wasn’t so propelled me forward. I pleaded for the firetrucks to be going somewhere else, but the closer I got to the theater, the louder the sirens grew. People were screaming and running alongside me to see what was happening. Smoke billowed and enveloped the sky. The crackling of the fire in the distance matched the feeling in my chest. And then, I saw it.

It took me a moment to fully register what my gut had told me and what I was seeing, but when those things connected, I fell back against the nearest building and covered my face in my hands and began to sob.

Horror and grief drenched my soul as I watched with the other people on my block as the historic theater went up in a blaze.

“What happened?” Spotting Dean talking to a fireman, I hurried over. He turned and shook his head.

“Not sure yet. Apparently, it started in one of the screening rooms. I think someone left a lit cigarette in there.”