Set up a lunch with me and Renee Alvarez. The Grill. Or what about Deus Ex? Been wanting to try that place.
(No subject)
Make a list of directors for potential Civil War zombie project.
Cameron answered at all hours and at breakneck speed. He wanted to prove he was the best assistant Arthur ever hired, so great that he would get promoted. He didn’t know when he started to think about how to get promoted. That was what all assistants talked about. Moving up was the name of the game. Cameron tried to play along. Arthur had called him one of the best assistants he’d ever had, but it didn’t feel like the accomplishment he thought it would.
He shook his head. He wasn’t thinking clearly.That damn voicemail.
Cameron walked across the lot, past a shoot for one of their movies, through the lobby, up the elevator, down the hall to his cubicle. None of it felt as majestic as it had his first day. It was Thursday. Another day at the office.
The alcohol from last night swooshed around in his head. Was it a mixer? Drinks with a producer’s assistant?Did it matter?
Of course it did, he told himself. The honeymoon was over, but he was still doing what he wanted to be doing.I’m living the dream. I’m making movies.
Or, assisting people who are making movies.
His phone burned a hole in his pocket.
Ever since he deleted that video of Walker and Hobie, he hadn’t looked at another picture of them. He and Henry gchatted a few days ago, but he made sure not to ask Henry about them.
Maybe Walker just wants to see how you’re doing, Henry messaged him.
He can check my Instagram, if he ever joins. I met Neil Patrick Harris. I’m doing great.
Cameron went about his day, which was calmer since Arthur was at a doctor’s appointment. He read scripts, logged them, opened and responded to email. He took note of how much of his day was about playing tetris with Arthur’s schedule. Shuffling around meetings. He knew what an assistant’s job entailed, but seeing it in motion—organizing someone else’s day—seemed depressing. He was spending his life living someone else’s, but not getting to enjoy the good parts.
In a quiet moment, he pulled out a legal pad and began writing out a scene about the inanity of his job. The dialogue flowed through his fingers, and this dormant part of his brain awakened. All he had written in the past few months were emails. Before he knew it, over an hour had passed. His inbox was full of emails. He threw the pad in his drawer as soon as he heard Arthur’s footsteps.
“How was the doctor’s appointment?” Cameron asked.
“Fine.” Arthur seemed taken aback by the question, as if it were too personal. He checked the physical mail. “What’s my day looking like?”
“You have a call with Malcolm Richards in fifteen minutes, then a lunch at Deus Ex, a pitch meeting with this writing team Caplan and Turngrove at three, and a department meeting at four. And a reminder that your nephew’s birthday is next week. Let me know what you want me to order.”
“What are six-year-olds into?”
“Lego,” Cameron said.One six-year-old in particular.
“That’ll work.” Arthur handed him mail Cameron could chuck. “Bump the pitch meeting to three-thirty. That way they won’t run over. And get Malcolm Richards on the phone now.”
Cameron did as ordered, all with a smile on his face. “Hi, Malcolm. I have Arthur Brandt calling.”
He put his line on mute while Arthur and Malcolm exchanged pleasantries.
“Listen, Malcolm. The studio absolutely lovesMakeshift, and so does Arlo. He’s intent on making this his next movie.”
“That’s fantastic! I’m excited to see him tackle a gritty drama.”
“He’s a great actor. But about that,” Arthur said. Cameron could hear the fake smile through the phone line. “Since we have Arlo Falconer on board, we’re thinking it’s best to lighten the tone of this script and play to his comedic side. He’s on a comedy streak, and we and Arlo both agree this script has major comedic potential.”
“Sure,” Malcolm said hesitantly.
“Arlo wants the president character to be front-and-center, instead of Helena. So we need to shift the focus of the story. I was talking with him and other execs on my team, and we think this shift would work best through a romantic lens. The president falls in love with the White House chef.”
“Um, okay. I can add a romantic subplot, I think.”
“Well, we don’t want it to be a subplot. That should be the main arc of the story. Arlo’s president character adjusting to life in the wacky Oval Office and falling in love with his in-house chef.”
