La La Land

Author's note: I now have a p-word as you all know, so if you feel like reading 5 advanced chapters at the measly price of $3, then do join. The link is in this book's bio, or you can just search 'Archonstine' followed by p-word on your browser.

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7th March 1997 (Friday)

Trenton Campbell (POV)

"Hola Amigos!" I announce loudly, as I barge into the editing lab, only to find Ricky, Daryl and a handful of other people on computers, clicking away.

"I said HOLA AMIGOS!"

…

"Heard you the first time!" Daryl fired back, not liking the newfound distraction to his work.

"Wow, what crawled up your ass and died?" I muttered.

"You apparently! Except you're somehow alive, but you know what? Give me a couple of seconds and I can correct that ASA-"

"Okay, Okay! Daryl! Relax, would you? Chill." Ricky interrupted.

"Yeah, you heard that Darlene? Chill!" I mocked a little only to find myself in Ricky's line of fire.

"Trent, I swear to god I will kick you out of here myself, if you don't have anything important to contribute here. 'Tis a sad day, but unfortunately we're a little too busy to tolerate your brand of humor."

I raise my hands in defense, "Woah-Woah! Relax Ricky! Come on, you know me! Of course I've got some news man! The guy from Cannes called. Apparently the jury found our request for a timeline extension 'insensitive', and 'preposterous'... long story short, we're aiming for Venice now!"

He raised his eyes, clearly perplexed as he spoke, "Did they really use those words? Are you just making it up to drive home a point?"

"They did use those words… indirectly." I finished, to a series of groans as Ricky adopted a flat look.

"Listen, I've got 10 times more caffeine in my body than is medically advised, and it's all cause I wanted to try my level best to meet a near impossible deadline. I'm not disappointed we didn't make it, but I want to make sure we've exhausted all possible contingencies before moving on to Venice… So tell me exactly what they said. Describe their tone to me."

Huh. Yeah, I suppose I owe him that much at the very least.

"All right. So, they said that they would've considered giving a deadline if we'd made it clear we were gonna enter 3 months in advance, and if our production was delayed due to unforeseen circumstances beyond our control."

"Unforeseen circumstances?"

"They called it an 'Act of God'... but I know you no longer believe in one so…"

He sighed in exasperation and met Daryl's eyes… and they stared at each other for the next few seconds, shaking and nodding their heads and stuff.

Damn it… how come 'Daryl' of all people can hold a silent convo with him?! I've been his friend far longer… now that I think about it, why in the fuck don't we have a secret way of communicating of our own?!

As his bestie, I definitely deserve that basic courtesy from him!

"Trent," Ricky speaks up, having finally ended his little 'chat' with Daryl, "Thanks a lot. Now do us a favor, can you dig up some information about this year's Venice Fest? Like, who's on the jury, our potential competition, submission requirements, etc. We really need to figure out our next step here."

"Absolutely Ricky! I'll get right to it! By the way… you never asked the good news!"

He sighed, "What's the good news Trent… Did you finally get that Spanish Bartender's number?"

Oh snap.

"...Erm. Yes. How did you know?"

"You barged into the room screaming, and I quote, 'HOLA AMIGOS!' The closest you've got to Spain, was that porno you bought 2 months ago featuring those 3 latinas. You obviously wouldn't come screaming in for something that inane. And you've been visiting 'The Frat House', a lot lately, where every single time you try and flirt with the hot bartender, and judging from the frequency of your visits, you've memorized the timings of her shift. My guess? She finally gave you her number… BUT! Having met her, I know for a fact that she's a lesbian, so she probably handed you a fake number, expecting you'll get the hint when you call, but someone else responds… most probably a 60 year-old man with hearing deficiency."

…

WHAT THE FUCK?!?!

"Hold the fuck on… she's a LESBIAN?!"

"Yeah.. It was quite obvious."

"Wai- the first time you met was 3 weeks ago, when I introduced you to her… don't tell me you knew from back then?!"

"I did. Even clarified it with her, after noticing certain mannerisms. After you passed out drunk, we even had an enlightened chat about different sexualities."

"... I don't care about that! You knew?! And you didn't tell me? … And wait. That thing you said about the call being answered by a 60 year old man with hearing deficiency… Please tell me that was a wild guess." I pleaded rather pathetically, desperately clinging onto the notion that my best friend and my crush were not in cahoots.

Rick's smug ass smile, squashed those expectations pretty hard as he said, "I didn't tell you… cause she told me not to. Wasn't my secret to share. As for the fake number… It was her idea. You were being relentless man, and she really wanted it to stop. So I kept my mouth shut. Figured, it would be a learning lesson for you." He continued, every word infused with casual cruelty, as my heart was played with in the most devious ways possible…

Eh. You win some, you lose some. That's the game I suppose.

"You're a piece of shit Ricky, you hear me? A piece of shit. And stop laughing Daryl!"

And with that, I took my leave, exiting the den of demons to complete my assignment, not bothering to look back as I tore up the piece of paper with her number, chucking it into the bin on my way out.

Ricky Stirling (POV)

A moment of silence ensued after he stormed out… before everyone broke out into peals of laughter.

"Thank you everyone! Thank you for watching! Do remember to tune in next week for a brand new episode, featuring a redhead!" I took a bow, as everyone clapped and whistled jokingly.

*Sigh.*

I'm so goddamn funny.

"Ricky," Daryl whispered, leaning in slightly, to not be overheard, "I know you. Even you wouldn't be that cruel so tell me.. How much of that was fabricated?"

I snorted in disbelief, "You really have a talent for picking out my lies Daryl… All of it. The number she gave was genuine. She's not a lesbian. But… she's a compulsive cheat, and a pathological liar, with minor sociopathic tendencies. I had someone pull up her record… She had 2 DUIs, and an assault charge. Her victim? Her 86-year old neighbor. Now I didn't wanna break his heart, so I just made up a situation which would discourage him from pursuing the matter any longer. I'm just looking out for him."

Fuck you Trent. Have some better taste in women next time.

And thank you 'Observe', for helping me avoid that can of worms early on… Truly, this is a fucked up world I'm living in. Fucked up, you hear? I'm quite literally the only one who knows exactly how many criminals I walk past on a daily basis, and believe me… the number is high enough to throw the entire city into chaos overnight.

Do better LAPD… do better.

As for the lying bit… I couldn't very well confess the truth now, could I? It's not that the 'record' of hers doesn't exist, but I certainly don't have a copy of it. It would make things real awkward if he asked for proof… and I very well couldn't tell him about 'Observe', now could I?

Seriously, fuck you Los Angeles… you're not that many steps away from being a real-life version of Gotham fuckin' City, and unfortunately, we don't have a Batman.

…

…

24th March 1997 (Monday)

Ricky Stirling (POV)

"The first 4 seconds of silence will be from camera 2. Then we cut to a close-up of his face, aka camera 1. His motif will play in the background, as it cuts to a half body shot of 'Sean' from camera 5. Then… we go back to back, with wide-angle shots from camera 4 sprinkled throughout gaps of silence. Now… I think you know exactly what I'm talking about, so you do this scene, and I'll continue with the soundtrack meanwhile. Got it?"

Daryl nodded, his face scrunched up in focus as he hung onto every last word of mine. "So just to clarify, the sequence is 2, 1, 5… then it's 1, 5, 1, 5 and it goes on and on for the next minute, with 4 whenever there's a gap of silence."

I clapped my hands before pointing at him, "Yes! That's it. Now, I'll do the soundtrack and when I get back… we go over camera 3's movements. I don't know why, but I think we'll just have to scrap all film from it. I put in transition effects here, and it'll just seem bloated for no reason at all. And you know my thoughts on bloated direction-"

"There's a thin line between intelligence and indulgence?"

"...Yeah. That. Anyways, toodles." I say before departing, leaving him to his own instruments.

I gotta say, when I first started editing, I was expecting this to go on for months at the minimum. It was a really humbling moment, when I realized how much work truly goes into post production of a feature length film.

But even considering all that, I'm far ahead of schedule than anyone else would've been if they were in my place.

Why?

Because… post production usually goes through 3 phases. The Editor's cut, followed by the Director's cut, and then the final version we all call, the Theatrical cut.

An editor usually starts editing immediately once principal photography commences, and his work continues throughout filming, processing the raw footage captured every day into a coherent storyline.

And once he applies the finishing touches, it's the director's chance to create his own artistic vision and bring it to life in his own personalized cut.

And then, with the input of studio execs, producers, and a few other related individuals, the theatrical cut is finalized… that is, if the director feels there's no need for any re-shoots.

In my case… I'm the director… and the editor… and the producer.

And due to my enhanced intellect working hand in hand with my perfect memory… there's not even an infinitesimal chance of me missing out on footage in a single session.

Plus, with my supernatural skills guiding my artistic vision, something in my mind clicked instantaneously whenever I glanced upon a piece of footage that should be included. It was practically instinctual at this point, decreasing my workload substantially and shooting my efficiency through the roof.

And the result of my various advantages? A process that would've normally taken over 3 months, is about to be concluded in a mere 40 days give or take.

Granted, Daryl and other assistant editors played a massive role in this, so props to them I guess.

I eventually make my way to another room adjacent to the lab, where I spot her and her team.

"Mrs. Hartsop, How's it going here? Please, lay it on me."

And the portly woman in her mid-50s does exactly that, "Yeah. So we're done with the footage you sent over 3 days ago. Now we're working on your edit from yesterday, almost done with it by the way. And… we made a slightly creative decision, just wanted to swing it by you, see if you wanna make changes." She says, before turning back, and proceeding to play a clip.

After reviewing the clip, "So you used the orchestral version of 'Between the Bars' instead of the lyrical, drumming up the intensity, while maintaining a profound silence…" I finish while contemplating.

Eventually I nod in approval, "That works. Beautifully in fact, whose idea was that?"

Annette, bless her heart, beams in pride, as she straightens herself, "I came up with it! I-I thought back to the scene from this movie 'Just about a Summer', where they use this method in a key scene. That movie won the 'Golden Bear' at Berlin about 8 years ago. And it played out beautifully, so I jus- I thought it could work out here and… I guess it does. Right?" She asks again, still jittery from having her decision approved.

"Absolutely Mrs. Hartsop… it does work out beautifully. Anyways, I just came to check up on things but it seems you run a pretty tight ship around here so, I'll take my leave." I finish, throwing a charming smile as I wish her goodbye.

What a sweet old lady. Pity she's got barely 10 more years to live, what with the combination of Diabetes, High BP, arthritis, and… herpes. Not to mention the damage to her cardiovascular system caused by chronic obesity obtained 20 years ago.

Truly, she'll be missed.

I exit the door, before making my way back to the lab, ready to start again.