Chapter 31
Theo
Friday, July 12, 2024
I can’t believe you’re inside Studio 8H.” Bryan’s deep voice booms from my iPhone, startling a passing production assistant. I wave an apology, then flip the screen around and press a finger to my lips.
“Take it down a notch,” I whisper. “Giving you a tour is technically against the rules, remember?”
“My boy, onSNL. Meeting Kenan and shit.” Bryan’s whole face is bright with glee, his voice as loud as ever.
I sigh. “I’m noton SNL, Bry, my band is. And you could be here, too, if you hadn’t jetted off to Saint Lucia.”
Bryan, who’s wearing nothing but bright-blue swim trunks, throws a hand out behind him. “You catching this view?” The view in question is a small cove of crystal-clear water ringed by palm trees. On the white-sand shore, a beautiful woman perches in a bikini, sipping out of a coconut. “You should’ve come with. I’ve been dying for you to meet Gemma.”
“That’sGemma? Wait, when did you two become vacation-serious? Last I remember, you were still flirting on the app.”
He shakes his head at me. “See, this is what happens when you get consumed by work. Everything I say goes in one ear and out the other.”
I make what I hope is my most charming apologetic face and he rolls his eyes. “Go on and give me the tour.”
I stroll down the hall, trying to look as nonchalant as possible with my camera out, and peek into the writers’ room. Four twenty something men crowd around a table, heads bent over their laptops. They’re surrounded by bags of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos. One gesticulates wildly and I catch the words “Notactualbears, Jer,obviously.” In the corner, a woman with a buzz cut is curled on the floor, snoring.
“This is the writers’ room,” I whisper to the screen.
“Where the magic happens,” Bryan whispers back.
“They’re writing a skit right now. Can you hear that? Something about bears.”
“Hey, Gemma, come see this!” Bryan yells. The room full of writers startles and turns. I scramble back, mouthingSorry, as Bryan keeps going: “He says there’s gonna be anSNLskit this weekend about bears!”
I hustle down the hall, carrying Bryan with me like a misbehaving toddler. “Tooloud,” I hiss. This time when I glance at the screen, both Bryan and Gemma are crammed in front of the camera.
“Hi, Theo,” she says. “It’s great to finally meet you. Did Bryan tell you I watchSNLreligiously?”
I glare at Bryan. “Hi, Gemma. So nice to meet you on this NDA-violating tour I organized for Bryan in exchange for his complete and total silence.”
“Do you think they’re going to do a skit about Hannah?” she asks, either not catching my sarcasm or deciding to ignore it. “They could do one about her paparazzi meltdown. Bryan showed me the TMZ video and said that was you carrying her away. I think that means you’re famous now.”
I groan. “You saw that?”
Bryan at least has the grace to look guilty. “It was everywhere, man. No avoiding it. It even madeEntertainment Tonight, and you know my mom watches that. She called me all excited. For what it’s worth, we all agreed you handled yourself well. My mom said to tell you you’re looking buff.”
“Jesus.” I sigh. “What a nightmare.” Bryan yanks the screen so all I can see is his face. “Man, what’supwith you? You’ve been in a bad mood all week.”
I stretch out my neck and take a deep breath. “Everywhere we go, photographers have been waiting. It’s that Sasha Thee Pop Princess thing. The woman’s following is massive. People are going crazy trying to get Hannah’s reaction.”
“Isn’t that what you want?” he asks. “Your band’s getting famous. That’s a pill that’s going to come with some side effects.”
I’ve made it down the full length of the hall, so I turn into the only room with a door open, which happens to be packed with clothes. “Fitting room,” I whisper, and turn the phone so Bryan can see.
He whistles. “And there’s the woman of the hour.”
I crane my neck around a rack of cowboy costumes and find Hannah in the process of getting measured by two costume designers. They’re holding up pairs of pants and talking a mile a minute, so when our eyes catch, Hannah only nods before returning her attention to them.
“No wonder he’s willing to fall on his sword for her,” says a small, tinny voice from my phone.
Bryan widens his eyes at Gemma and hisses, “I told you not to repeat that.”
