“‘Fight for me, but don’t you dare die for me,’” Elliot finished, with a small, satisfied nod.
“I think I read that scene twenty times, over and over,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. Even talking about it had me ready to cry all over again. “RJ is a genius.”
Elliot’s smile dropped. “Right. RJ.”
“And the ending is almost perfection,” I went on, lifting a marker pen. “You know a movie is special when all you want to do is talk about it for hours afterwards and that is what this script did to me. I think it’d be even more impactful if we cut some scenes down a bit, shorten the run time.” I wrote ‘Trim’ on the board. “And Marla needs to be a little more fleshed out when we meet her.” I scrawled ‘Marla’ underneath my first notation.
“She’s fine,” Elliot uttered.
“She’sgreat,” I said. “But I don’t think she’s given the same grounding as Finn. As a woman—”
“Well now, I can’t be the asshole who disagrees with the ‘speaking as a woman’ argument, can I?” he quipped.
“I’m sure you’d manage if you tried really, really, hard.” I kept my tone even, but Elliot was coming across as someone who’d mansplain everything if I let him. “I love the concept of a privileged nepo baby turned freedom fighter, but we need to do more to ensure audiences connect with her and not just Finn.”
“She’s meant to be reserved,” he said. “She’s from an upper-class background.”
“So, because she’s fancy, she doesn’t have personality?”
“Of course she does,” he said with a frown. “It’s just … subtle.”
“Too subtle.” I planted both hands on the table. “I’m telling you, if RJ wants female audiences to connect with this love story, we have to do something about Marla.”
“I disagree.” Elliot leaned forward, jabbing his finger into the table. “Marla is strong and confident.”
“Good,” I said. “But she has a wound that only love can heal, as does he. Isn’t that the point of the story?”
“I know what the point of the story is,” Elliot snapped.
“I never said you didn’t!”
Elliot stood, towering over me. “This isn’t some cheesy romcom where you can, like, cast a Kardashian and remove all adjectives with more than two syllables. This film is trying to say something important.”
“When did I say it was a cheesy romcom?” I stopped leaning against the table and stood so I was facing him properly. It was like he was determined to write me off as some kind of vapid ignoramus.
“Do you know what’s at stake here?” he said.
“Yes.” RJ had taken great pains to explain to me. “Oscars, box office … I get it.”
“I don’t think you do,” he said, jabbing a finger in the air. “This is the biggest project I’ve ever been involved in, it could really move the needle for me, and for some … fucking PA to come in like a grenade—”
“Now you’re being rude,” I said, with a wince.
“You’re not a writer!” he barked, his face reddening.
“I know that!” I had to show him who I was, or this would never work, and I’d be going back to London without a job. “I have a decade of experience in this industry,” I said. “I might not have won a fancy award or have a heap of IMDb credits, but RJ believes in me. You may not but that doesn’t mean I don’t deserve your respect.”
His eyes widened. “I – I’m not trying to disrespect you.”
“Aren’t you?” I said. “Because you’ve done a good job so far.”
My words gave him pause. “I’m sorry,” he rumbled, backing away.
“Apology accepted.” My voice was stiff with disappointment.
He stared at me. “No, it isn’t.”
“You’re right, it isn’t,” I said hotly. “Do you even know what a PA does?”
