I think back to the Zoom production meeting last Wednesday. I had been on-camera for all of five minutes to introduce myself, then turned it off, citing “connection problems” in the chat. Really, I just wanted to continue snacking on Doritos while watchingGrey’s Anatomyin the background with the sound off.
It’s not that I wasn’t paying attention to the meeting, I just…wasn’t putting my whole self into it. I’ve done so many of these meetings in the past that I already had a vague idea of every important detail the executive producer might relay to us:Keep track of your schedule and call time; try not to get other cruise passengers in the shot if you don’t have a PA with you who can get them to sign a release; we’re not insured for reckless shit, so don’t do something stupid…the usual.
It’s not like I’m a DOP, or a producer—crew members who need to be tuned in to everything going on with the contestants. I’ll probably spend half my time shooting close-ups of drinks being poured or getting wide shots of us sailing into port. I washonestly more invested in what was happening at Seattle Grace Hospital in theGrey’srerun than I was in what the executive producer was saying.
So, no, I didn’t recognizeorremember this woman.
But I certainly wasn’t going to tell her that.
“Oh, yes! Hi!” I manage a laugh and squeeze her hand in return before she drops it. “Sorry, I’m half-asleep and didn’t manage to get a coffee before we took off. I’m a little out of it. I’m Chloe Hill.”
She smiles again, and I can’t help but think of my sister. They’re probably about the same age. Although, unlike Kyla, Sora seems to be more confident. Despite her short height, her shoulders are squared and she’s standing up straight—and not in a way that suggests she’s trying too hard or overthinking it, like I would look. She’s comfortable in her skin, and it shows.
“Yes, I know,” she chuckles.
“Right!” I say awkwardly.
“Where are you sitting? I didn’t see you board the flight.I’mright over there—next to the bathroom.” She gives me a disgusted look before miming puking, then pauses briefly before adding a second, more graphic, gesture that I think is supposed to be representative of using a toilet. My brain practically short-circuits as she giggles like it’s the funniest thing in the world, a little snort only adding to the effect. A small smile tugs at my lips.
What a charming little weirdo.
“Oh, uh, up there somewhere.” I motion toward the front of the plane. “I guess I got the better seat. Except the man next to me is an…aggressivesleeper.” She looks confused, but I wave her off.
“I amsoready for this flight to be over,” she groans. “Who knew flying was so uncomfortable? I sure didn’t! I can’t wait to get to the hotel and take a long shower and maybe grab some food. Have you been to Italy before? I haven’t. Actually, I’ve never even been out of the country!”
I can barely keep up with Sora’s rapid-fire, stream-of-consciousness chatter. Is it possibleshe’sthe reason why there’s no coffee on the plane? Because she drank it all?
“Um, yeah. Once or twice. Actually, I think three times? But one of those was just the airport,” I mumble, edging aside to let the large man with the cowboy hat pass by. His appearance is a little worse for wear now than it was at the gate—rumpled clothes, bags under his bloodshot eyes, and lines creasing his face. I can’t imagine how torturous the rest of this flight will be for him and his seat companions.
The line shuffles closer to the bathroom.
“How can you not remember how many times you’ve been to Italy before, Chloe?” Sora asks, her tone bewildered.
I laugh awkwardly, thinking back to when I was this green in the film industry. Back then, every gig, no matter how crappy, was a new adventure. Every task from a cranky director was a challenge I knew I could rise to. And when the job came with a plane ticket to somewhere I had never been before? I felt like I’d won the lottery.
“I guess eventually you get used to the travel, and then at some point it starts to feel like just another commute, you know? Kind of…loses its sparkle,” I say offhandedly with a shrug.
My memories from those first few years of my career are still so vivid, but I find that I can’t seem to recall the last time I truly looked forward to a gig that required travel. When did that happen? And was it the travel that had lost its appeal, or was it that any sense of meaning and fulfillment in the job had faded?
I honestly had no idea anymore.
Sora’s eyes widen to saucers. “Wow, I can’t imagine thisevergetting old! I’ve never even been on a plane before.”
“This is going to be such a great experience for you, then,” I remark. I try to put some enthusiasm behind the words, butit’s hard—a knot that feels a lot like jealousy coils tight in my chest.
“Yeah, I think it will be.” There’s an awkward pause, which seems to make Sora uncomfortable, as she blurts out, “Anyway, I’m really looking forward to working with you!
“Likewise,” I say, offering her a weary smile as she turns to face forward again.
My thoughts wander.
I envy Sora for being at the start of her career, optimistic and excited about the adventure ahead. When had I become so jaded that I can’t even psych myself up about flying toItaly? Or exploring the Mediterranean coast?
When I really think about it, though, I know it’s because that’s just not how this job will play out. When I’m on the ship, I’ll yearn to be on shore. And when I’m filming on shore—on an excursion, or in the port cities—I won’t be able to experience the things I want to, like enjoying new foods, seeing the sights, or soaking up the culture.
And I certainly won’t be capturing it on camera. Instead of framing a shot in just the right way that translates the awe-inducing grandeur of the Sagrada Família in Barcelona, my camera will be trained on a wannabe Instagram influencer as she blows a tiny misunderstanding way out of proportion.
Because we can’t miss a single minute of the drama, right? The multibillion-dollar reality TV industry has been designed to churn out fame-hungry personalities with mass-market appeal, or to sell some idea of love that doesn’t feel real, instead of opening one’s mind to the wonders of the world.That’swhy travel has lost its sparkle. That’s why I can’t bring myself to care.
