He stared, his green eyes boring into me, a strand of his black hair falling over his eyes. I knew I’d touched a sensitive button. His obsession with keeping me here was ever-present whenever he was around. He was obvious with his interest in me, but I couldn’t offer the same to him, even if a tiny part of me wanted to stay. Every day that I stayed here was another day the police had to put evidence together and send me away forever. Or worse, for some big executive shark to find out and do to me what they did to my mom. Once I was no longer in their direct line of sight daily, my crimes would be forgotten and the cases abandoned. I needed to leave when it was all over, but Sebastian would make it so hard to go.
“Someday, Final Girl.” He pushed off the trailer and tossed a handful of popcorn into his mouth. Spinning around, he began to walk backward. “Someday, I’m going to win you over.”
“Sure, Psycho Killer,” I teased. “Someday.”
Raissa came by to take me to set to finish the fight scene. Skye took her own cart but wasn’t far behind me. We got onto set, spoke to the stunt coordinator then began practicing. We sparred for a while and then started shooting.
“You ruined everything!” Skye, as Riley, screamed as she swung her axe. While it looked menacing, with its metal-looking decals and crusted-on fake blood, it was hollow plastic. Strong enough not to bend on impact, but not hard enough to hurt if I was accidently hit. “You should have left town when I told you to!”
“Simon didn’t say leave!” I mocked.
She snarled and whacked the back of my calves, sending me to my knees. I crawled forward, rolling and dodging her axe.
“I tried to save you. This could have been peaceful. You didn’t have to die.”
I turned and glared up at her.
“I could say the same for you.” I lifted my leg and shot it forward.
“Cut!” Dante reset us and got close-ups of my sneakers coming into contact with her shin, then of her flying through the air in a harness.
Before filming the final bit for the day—the close-up, roll-around scene designed for the male gaze, where we have even skimpier clothing and do lots of whimpers and moans as we fight—they gave us a small break. Skye bounded over. I downed a bottle of water and reached for another. Despite having hardly any clothes on, it was hot as hell on set, and I was struggling not to overheat.
“This has been so much fun!” Skye squealed, dropping into a chair. She reached for a bottle and beamed at me as she took a small drink.
I fought the urge to slap her or roll my eyes. She did everything so effortlessly. Normally, I loved that about her, but right at this moment, as I was struggling to breathe, I needed her to choke on that water she was sipping.
“What are you doing after we wrap? I kind of want to go out, just you and me. Drinks? Dancing?” She bumped my hip playfully.
I scrunched up my nose. “I don’t know how you can even think of dancing. I am dying over here. I groaned and slumped against the craft services table, fanning myself.
“It is kinda hot,” she agreed, which only annoyed me more. There was nokindaabout it.
“So, I have to ask. Last weekend...” She bit down on her lip, and I stiffened. Was she really about to talk about Fred Castle and his live, laugh, toaster bath right here, where people could overhear?
“You and Sebastian...” she finished, and relief washed over me.
I snickered and grabbed another water. I started to tell her what I’d told Sebastian earlier this afternoon but stopped short. We were still pretending to date for the movie.
“It’s complicated,” I said lamely.
“He’s like, fallen head over heels for you,” she said.
I eyed her curiously. Had he put her up to this?
“I don’t really want to talk about him. We’re...complicated,” I repeated and stepped away, returning to set.
Everyone else made their way back slowly, and we went through the final choreography.
“Hands on each other’s arms. We want to see your chests. Sorry. I know it’s crass,” Dante said. “But lots of over-the-top moans, whimpers, gasps, stuff like that.”
“Like a mediocre porno.”
He grinned. “Exactly.”
He stepped back, and we got into position. Skye swept her foot under mine, causing me to fall. I grabbed her ankle and took her with me. In a flash, she was on top of me, pretending to punch and slap me. My head went back and forth as directed. I arched my back to make my breasts stick out farther and groaned as Skye ground her pelvis into mine.
I overpowered her and rolled on top, trading places. I tore at her hair and smeared her lipstick with a stage smack. She rolled me over again, and I pretended to struggle to regain power.
