Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Reporters talked shit and ran their mouths, saying this was the end of my career, but it couldn’t have been further from the truth. I had more money than I knew what to do with, so I could retire if I wanted to. This had nothing to do with money and everything to do with the fact that I could come back from this.
I’d prove everyone wrong.
“Now you’re talking my language,” Thomas informed.
Before I could ask him to elaborate, the familiar sound of dress shoes connecting on the hardwood floor shifted my eyes over to the office door. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t caught off guard by seeing the renowned movie director B. Night walking into the room.
I cocked my head to the side, confused.
“Aires, I’d like to introduce you to—”
I stood. “I know who he is.” Walking over to him, I shook his hand.
B. Night greeted, “Pleased to meet you, Aires.”
We shook hands.
“Likewise.”
After we sat down, B. Night was the first to break the silence. “Do you know why I’m here?”
“Not exactly,” I replied, trying to figure out what was going on.
“Time is money, so I’ll get right to the point.” I never expected him to add, “I’m here to make a movie.”
I jerked back, even more caught off guard than I just was. “You want to make a movie with me?”
“I definitely have my work cut out for me when it comes to you, but yes, I do. I’m here to do what I do best, and that’s making a top-grossing film with the actor capable of filling the role.”
“Are you patronizing me?”
“No,” he coaxed. “I’m merely stating facts.”
“Aires…” Thomas warned in that tone that pissed me off.
B. Night nodded to me. “How about I talk to you in terms you understand?”
“By all means”—I gestured to him—“continue.”
“Alright.” He stood, walking around the room as if this was an episode of The Sopranos. “My next box office hit will be a dramatic, romantic love story, titled”—he spread his hands out theatrically—“Say You Love Me. I want tears! I want suspense and agony! I want viewers on the edge of their seats just waiting for that first kiss. The angst and turmoil of being apart all those years, but now they’re stuck on an island together—”
“An island?”
“Yes!” he shouted. “After you run into each other at the airport, it’s been ten years since you’ve seen each other, but fate”—he snapped his fingers—“has brought you together!”
“Alright…”
“But then,” he dramatically exclaimed, clapping hands, “the same flight that you’re on crashes!”
I’d worked with passionate directors before, and in my experience, it made the movie better.
“You’re the only two that survive, and now you have to fight for your lives, but it’s hard to fight the eternal love you will always have for each other.”
“Sounds like quite the plot,” I remarked. “What drove them apart to begin with?”
“They were from different worlds, they wanted different things, and they were young, but now… now they might die, and it brings them closer together because they never fought for one another before.”
“Sounds awfully familiar,” I whispered under my breath.
“That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”
Before I could ask what he meant by that, he vividly added, “The plane crash will be of epic proportions, and no expense will be spared. I want fire! I want catastrophe! I need complete and utter destruction as you’re plummeting to your deaths from thousands of feet in the air, praying you’ll survive, and then once you’ve given up hope, the plane crashes into the water! BOOM!” He slammed his fist down on the table, making me jolt a bit.
“As you're struggling for your next breath, trying to survive, you remember that the love of your life is on the same flight with you, so you begin screaming her name, desperately trying to find her. You’re covered in blood from your wounds, and your chest feels like it’s on fire as you try to swim for your life and hers. Until finally! You find her!”
I listened intently, seeing it all play out in front of me.
“The impact knocked her unconscious, and you have seconds to get her out of that seat belt before the plane explodes. Except you can’t get her seat belt off, and time is against you…” He paused for a moment. “You’re fighting with the belt, screaming profanities for it to unbuckle and trying to keep both your heads above water as the front of the plane catches on fire. You can’t leave her! You won’t! You’d rather die there with her than ever be apart again!”
My eyes widened.
“At the last second, you tear off the seat belt and immediately clutch her to your chest before supporting her limp body on top of yours as you swim backward out of the water and onto the sand. Once you’re able to walk, you carry her out of the water as fast as you can, and the second you’re out enough, the plane explodes behind you. BOOM!”