While their eyes were locked on one another, and before they could entangle me with more questions and comments about the script, I retreated and finally found refuge in my room.
The walls were closing in on me, and I was smothered in all of it. My growing fondness for Ricky couldn’t erase how I felt for Matthew, even though I could barely understand myself how I truly felt about it. It was all too much to think about.
THIRTEEN
Darling
––––––––
THE SCENE PLAYED OUTin my mind, on a constant loop, over and over again, the loving look in Matthew’s eyes and Susie’s pouting lips.
“Why are you tormenting yourself like this?”I said aloud.
And then the kiss that cemented their relationship. It was soft and sweet for a fraction of a second, then hard and passionate, so passionate that I could hear their ardor from a distance, even as I’d rushed down the hall to escape them.
Ricky, I thought with a flash. I had to find Ricky. I had to move on from whatever it was that I was harboring for Matthew. I had to prove to myself that...that...
What? That Matthew meant nothing to me? He was just an old childhood friend, after all. Of course, he meant nothing more. Or was this simply the remnants of a childish crush? After all, I’d always admired him. Had always looked up to him. He’d been my hero on more than one occasion.
Wasn’t it only natural that I have feelings for him?
Yes. But how deep did those feelings really go? That was the question, and I had no true answer.
And as to why it hurt so much to see him kissing Susie...The thought of it alone was enough to make me sob.
With no answers to my bundle of emotions, I knew the only way to soothe my hurt and confusion was to find myself in Ricky’s embrace.
Wandering through the many halls of Barry Park, I found a small crew shooting the outer scenery through one of the bedroom windows, sans Keely. The camera seemed to be set up so as to capture the sweeping hillside beyond the grounds of Barry Park. No doubt it would make for a lovely transitional scene.
A few doors down, the set decorator had her crew repositioning furniture and hanging drapes on the windows. A rolled-up rug lay by the door, ready to be taken out, or laid out anew in a different spot.
I made my way down to the piano room and found Ricky, Keely and a camera operator. Shooting a somber scene, silent and pensive as Ricky’s Mr.Crawford stared out a window, they were unaware of my presence.
The depth of emotion Ricky displayed, and this, without uttering a word, was impressive. His eyes said so much, as did the bitter press of his lips. But he was careful not to overplay it. He didn’t fall into the trap so many actors did, frowning too deeply to convey some emotion while the eyes remained dead. No. Ricky brought nuance to the short scene.
“Cut,” Keely softly said. “We’ve got it. That was perfect, Ricky. You almost had me crying.”
