Just Another Episode

Sat in a side room, Noel storms in angry about the filming of the Hitcher speech. Based very vaguely on a true story.




Genre: , ,



Length: words

Just Another Episode by sofaleaver

You’re sat in a room. You don’t really know where or what it’s used for, but there’s a rack full of plastic covered outfits, and what looks like bits of green skin on a dressing table. You’re sat on the only seat in the room, a hard wooden chair pulled out from under the table with the prosthetics on. Plonked on your lap is a magazine. It goes untouched but you fix your eyes on the cover, a woman with a frozen smile. It’s quiet, except from the occasional yell, from someone rushing around for some prop or another.

The door suddenly bursts open; swinging around until it abruptly hits the wall, creating a loud bang, startling you out of your daze. There in the door stands Noel, only green and donning a black top hat and a large green thumb. He pulls these off, and throws them at the mirror of the dressing table, causing it to shake in its frame. You jump up and make some unusual noise of exclamation, still slightly confused at this sudden outburst.

“The fucking camera ran out of film and no one thought to fucking well tell me, so I just looked like a dick doing that hour long rant” he rushes, running his hands through his sweaty hair. He flomps down into the now vacated chair, and stretches his legs out. You stand, apprehensive, deciding if his mood is genuine or just… Noel. “You do other scenes more than once, what’s wrong?”

He leaps back up again causing you to flinch by reflex, which does not go unnoticed, although he doesn’t comment. “It’s just that it’s the last fucking scene of the day and I’m sick of this bullshit and I want to go home and sit and drink tea in bed with you.” He turns and looks into your eyes, piercing blue and flaming with anger. The green tint of his skin and overly-protuding nose and chin would be humorous if the whole thing wasn’t slightly unnerving.

“I know it’s shit but you only have three days left and then you can go and do what you like.” You move towards him and link your left hand into his right. “We can do what we like.” This forces a slight smile and, even if it was just a glimmer, you know you’ve gotten through to him.

As you stand in silence, even just for a few seconds, you realise how clammy and shaky he is. He withdraws his hand and goes to raise his hands to his own face, his head ducking down at the same time. You interrupt this gesture by bringing your hands, sliding quickly up his torso, to his jaw line. You can feel his black hair tickle the tips of your fingers as you hold his face level to yours. You look at him, absorbing every detail of his features, and realise he’s doing the same as you make eye contact. As the cold persona Noel previously had melts away, his body loosening up, he begins to smile.

You lean in and kiss him on the lips, not unaware of the green make-up sweating off of his face, and the prosthetic chin rubbing against your own. At first Noel stays still, until he exhales warm breath and brings his hands to your hips, pulling you closer to him. After an eternity, you pull back and smile at him, and he wanly does the same. “Thanks, babe” he mumbles, taking your hand as you lead him out of the room, down the hallway and to the set; just another episode.

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