“Hesitant to bring it up with who?”
“Anyone.” I shrug.
“Why?”
“Nevermind, it’s probably a stupid harebrained idea anyways.” I try to turn away as the golden hour starts. I thought a Belizean sunset was gorgeous; a Tennessee sunset puts up tough competition.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Gabby says, putting her hand on my knee to keep it in place on the couch. Leaning forward, she grabs the wine bottle from the chiller and fills our glasses. “Spill. We aren’t playing this game. Tell me your idea. If it’s truly terrible, which I doubt it is”—she pauses to glare at me with a raised eyebrow—“you know I will tell you.” She definitely will. Gabby is a real one and calls it like it is. It’s why we’re so close. I can depend on her to keep me grounded. Gabby is also fiercely loyal and one of my biggest cheerleaders. I couldn’t do this life without her, and I’m so glad I don’t have to.
“Well, you know how I’ve written this new script?”
“Yes, the one you won’t tell me about. Mmhmm.”
It isn’t just her. I won’t share it with anyone. This script feels very personal. I’m proud of it and want to share it with the world, but I’m also terrified to release it.
Rolling my eyes at her, I continue. “I’ve pitched it to every network and studio I can think of that would produce this type of project and have gotten no interest. They look at me with blank stares. It’s like they can’t see past my on-screen accolades and persona to really judge the art. It’s dejecting.”
“Narrow-minded, middle aged, entitled white men.”
“I think it’s that no one is willing to take a chance on a newbie. Onme. Especially not in today’s climate. So many productions were stalled due to the shutdowns. The landscape has changed drastically in six months. Who knows where it is going to be in another six months?”
“If no one is willing to take a chance on you, they’re idiots and we don’t want them anyways. I’d bet on you any day of the week and twice on Sundays.” Did I mention she is my biggest cheerleader? “So what’s this idea you have then?”
“What if I started my own?”
“Your own what?” she asks, taking a sip of her wine.
“Production company.” Gabby chokes on her wine. “That bad?”
“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting that.” Gabby coughs trying to clear her airway of the wine. She reaches forward to grab her water off the coffee table and takes a sip.
“I know it’ll take a lot of work. I’ve done my research. I’ll need a business plan. I’m already working on that. I’ll need investors, funding, a website, a team, a location. There are a lot of moving parts.”
“Ives, stop.” Gabby takes my free hand in hers. “You can do anything you set your mind to.”
“But you think it’s a bad idea?”
“I didn’t say it was a bad idea. In fact, I didn’t say anything. I was just surprised.”
“Okay, well, now that you aren’t surprised, what do you think?”
“If this is what you really want, I say go for it.”
“Really?” My eyes widen in shock. I thought for sure she would tell me I was crazy.
Laughing at my response, Gabby says, “This year has been a lot. You’ve learned things about yourself that you didn’t even know you were capable of. It’s natural for your priorities to shift as you get older. If this is something that you’re passionate about, do it. No one is going to fight harder for you than you. Well, maybe me, but that’s beside the point. Have you thought about the focus for the company? Would it be purely your ideas and your projects, or would you open it up?”
“For now, it would probably be just mine. It’s the story I wantto tell the most. The flagship of the company. But, I also think it’s important to tell all stories. Like maybe I can be the shop for the underdog. The meaningful stories that no one else will take a chance on.”
“I’d back you.” Raising her glass to mine, Gabby waits for me to cheers. “To your very own production company.”
“I love your confidence, but I don’t think we’re there yet.”
“Every great success starts with an idea and a decision to go all in. Are you all in?” Swallowing, I let her words sink in. We watch the sunset together on Gabby’s porch while my mind runs rampant with all the possibilities. This could be the start of something groundbreaking. A small women-run production company focusing on impactful and change provoking stories. I can feel the rightness of it settle in my bones. Ihaveto do this.
Breaking the silence as darkness descends around us, I turn to Gabby and say, “I’m all in.”
Since my talk with Gabby last night, I’ve been thinking about what needs to happen to start this production company. Tay doesn’t know yet. I need to tell her soon. The conversation with Gabby also raised a valid question of where I want to set up a home base. I don’t necessarily have to live in L.A. or base the production company there. It may be better to start the company elsewhere. The separation between my former life and the life I am building could be good.
