Excuse Me, Miss

The sun was beginning to sink behind the trees when Philip returned to the set. “I found him,” he murmured, following Claire as she made her rounds. “He's at his apartment, and…”

“And what?” Claire asked, watching the lighting crew shuffle diffusers around for the fifth time. “Is he okay?”

“He's hungover. Violently hungover, actually.”

“Hungover?” she repeated. “How? We were together all evening. He had one beer!”

“I couldn't get much out of him, but judging by the empty bottle of vodka beside his bed, I'd say he went on one crazy bender after you left.”

Claire snorted in disgust. “That jerk,” she muttered.

“There's something else, Claire.”

“What?” she snapped.

Philip let out a long sigh. “I think he had… company,” he whispered. “I found a cup with lipstick on it, and unless you've started wearing baby doll pink all of a sudden-”

“No,” she said shortly. She was angry enough to scream, but she strove to keep herself together. “I'll check on him later tonight,” she decided. “Right now I've got a show to run.” She squeezed his hand tightly. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he said, squeezing hers in return.

Claire walked behind one of the houses in the village and felt a wave of anger and anxiety crash over her. How could he do this to me? she wondered. He's constantly telling me to focus more on the show, then gets drunk?!

“Claire?”

Claire sniffed and turned around. “Yes?” she asked calmly. “What is it, Lonny?”

“Um, that angry Korean guy says we're ready to shoot,” Lonny replied, smacking his gum loudly. The sound grated on Claire's ears even more than usual and it took all her willpower to stay relaxed. “Thanks, I'm on my way,” she said smoothly. “And stop calling him that. His name is Mr. Lee and he's your boss, remember?”

Lonny shrugged. “Whatever,” he muttered, walking away.

I swear if we were in New York… she pushed the thought away and stepped back into the open. “Places!” a crewman shouted, waving his arm rapidly. Claire took her spot behind the display screens and folded her arms. “Action!” she called.

This was Minho's first scene with Ming Hae and for some reason she made him nervous, so Claire was anxious to ensure good chemistry between them. Maybe his awkwardness will make the scene seem more real, she told herself.

She watched Minho sneak across the road, staying in the shadows as much as possible. Right on cue Ming Hae emerged from one of the huts and headed right for him, carrying a jug on her hip.

“Camera one, go wide,” Claire muttered into her headset. The first screen widened to a sweeping shot of the village, capturing both Minho and Ming Hae. “Nice,” she whispered. “Cue Minho.”

A crewman signaled Minho and he leapt out from behind the building and grabbed Ming Hae. She screamed, but he quickly muffled it and dragged her around the building.

“Camera three go!” Claire ordered.

“Why are you following me?” Minho demanded roughly. “Speak!”

“I… I'm not following you,” Ming Hae stammered.

Does she have tears in her eyes? Claire wondered. Wow, she's good.

“Don't lie to me!” Minho barked. “Who are you?”

Ming Hae broke free and ran off camera, leaving Minho beside the hut.

“Cut!” Claire called. “Nice job, guys!”

Ming Hae came back and shoved Minho lightly. “You really did startle me,” she said reprovingly. “Was that necessary?”

“I thought it would make for a better take,” he shrugged.

“It looked amazing,” Claire assured them. “Let's reset for the next scene! Where's Kibum? I want to get this and wrap up for the night.”

“Have you heard from Kyle?” Minho asked in a low voice. “Most of the cast are already gossiping like crazy.”

“He's fine,” Claire said shortly. “Tell them he's just sick.”

“Tell them?” Minho repeated. “Is that not the case?”

Claire walked off without replying and resumed her place behind the screens. “Places!” she called. “Action!”

Are you going to lie to Minho about this? a voice said accusingly. He's not stupid, you know. He'll figure it out.

Claire batted the thought away like a pesky fly and tried to focus on the scene in progress. Ming Hae ran toward the camera, only to be caught by Kibum. “Not so fast,” he said. She struggled against him, but he managed to hold onto her.

What if he does it again? the voice persisted. What if he drags this whole project down with him?

“Why are you doing this? Let me go or I'll scream!”

How dare he be so selfish! After so many lectures and shouting matches!

“You won't scream. Now tell me why you're so interested in us!”

I put in every spare hour I've got to this project, and he's just going to take advantage of that?! That vile, lazy, worthless-

“Claire? Claire!”

She shook herself and looked at Philip. “What?” she asked.

“Uh… the scene’s over,” he whispered. “They're waiting for you to call it.”

“Cut,” she said immediately. “Good job everyone, that's a wrap.”

“Did you even see the scene?” he asked.

“Yes,” she lied. “It's great. Go home.”

Philip gave her a look, but eventually he turned and left.

Claire remembered the mountain of work still sitting on her desk and she wanted to scream in frustration. How am I supposed to do everything? she thought desperately.

“Are you alright, Claire?”

Claire released a deep sigh and looked into Ming Hae's concerned eyes. “Yeah, I'm fine,” she mumbled. “Good job today.”

“And you,” Ming Hae returned, but Claire was already walking past her. She moved woodenly from place to place, making sure equipment and crew were being moved downhill before taking the trail down herself.

I'm gonna kill Kyle, she thought darkly.


******


Minho stepped out of the changing tent just as Kibum arrived at the bottom of the hill. “You're still here?” he asked incredulously. “Why haven't you changed yet?”

Kibum looked down at the costume he still wore. “Oh,” he muttered. “I was looking for Claire, but it seems she's already left.”

“Why?” Minho asked, though he already knew the answer.

“I just want to have a real conversation with her,” Kibum sighed. “You know, about things besides scripts and cue marks.”

Minho smirked. “You're not gonna make it one week, are you?” he asked. “One day on set and you're pining harder than ever.”

“I'm not pining!” Kibum snapped. “And today was different, what with Claire taking on yet another person's job.”

He ducked into the changing tent and Minho heard him sigh. “Where is Kyle, anyway?” he wondered aloud.

“I don't know,” Minho replied, “but Claire told me to tell people he's sick.”

“She told you to tell them that?”

“Exactly,” he affirmed, “which means something else happened that she doesn't want everyone to know about.”

Kibum emerged, now wearing gray jeans and a hoodie. “I don't like it,” he said decidedly. “She shouldn't be bearing this alone, whatever it is.”

They walked their costumes back to Jessica before continuing on to the parking lot. It was mostly empty, but Minho spotted Claire's Jeep idling nearby, its headlights on full blast. “What's she doing?” he mused.

Kibum brightened when he saw it and jogged over immediately. “Claire!” he called, stopping beside the driver's door, but there was no response.

Minho followed him over to the car. “Claire?” he called, tapping on the window. He could see her slumped over the steering wheel and he felt uneasy. “Kibum,” he muttered urgently.

Kibum pulled the door open and shook her gently. “Claire? Claire!”

She shot up and gave a yell of surprise. “What’s going on?!” she shouted, looking around wildly.

Minho and Kibum both breathed a sigh of relief. “We just wanted to make sure you're okay,” Kibum offered.

“Yeah, you were pretty out of it,” Minho added.

Claire rubbed her face and exhaled loudly. “I got in to head back to the office and must have dozed off,” she mumbled.

“Well you're certainly not driving now,” Kibum said firmly. He reached over and turned the car off, then took her keys and dropped them into his pocket. “I'll drive you home, where you will get a good night's sleep, then take tomorrow off.”

“I can't, Kibum, I've got-”

“A lot of sleep to catch up on, I agree,” he interrupted. “You won't be doing any of us a favor by falling asleep at the wheel,” he said gently.

“Or on set,” Minho added. “Where is Kyle?”

“Hungover,” she said irritably, “and messing around with some girl, apparently. He's gonna get a piece of my mind.” She got out and swayed a little on her feet, but Kibum was quick to steady her. “That can wait too,” he said. “Come on.”

The three of them walked over to Kibum's convertible and Minho helped him get Claire inside. “Take her home,” he whispered. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

Kibum got in and started the car, and Minho watched it drive away and disappear down the road before heading to his own car. This can't be good, he thought grimly.


******


Kibum glanced over at Claire again. She was fast asleep in the passenger seat, her head slumped over her chest. How is she keeping up with everything? he wondered. She'll get sick if she keeps this up.

He pulled into the parking lot of her building and turned the engine off, careful not to startle her. He went around and opened the door for her. “Claire? We're here,” he said, nudging her lightly.

She sat up suddenly, seeming a little confused, then sighed. “Thanks, Kibum,” she muttered, climbing out of the car. “I don't know why I'm so… so…” she yawned again, cutting off whatever she might say.

“Let me walk you up,” Kibum suggested.

“No, I'm fine,” she rebuffed, waving him away.

“You're not fine,” Kibum told her, “and it's no wonder, since you've been burning the candle at both ends. Go to bed, and if you come into work tomorrow I'll scoop you up in front of the entire crew and drive you home myself.”

Claire smiled, something she had barely done all day. “Okay, point taken,” she relented. “Goodnight.”

She entered the building and Kibum watched through the window until she was safely on the elevator. He wanted to follow her right to her door, but he knew she had been right to refuse him. Minho's right, he thought glumly. I won't last a week like this.


******


Claire yawned again and leaned on the wall as she slowly made her way to her apartment. Her vision blurred and she thought she imagined someone sitting by her door, but she rubbed her eyes and the figure remained. “Who's there?” she called.

The figure looked up at her and immediately stood to his feet. “Claire? Are you okay?” His voice warbled, like she was hearing him from underwater. She felt a pair of hands steady her and she rubbed her eyes again. “Kyle?” she asked, peering at him.

Her brother's face was full of concern and remorse and Claire was reminded of what Philip had told her. “Go away,” she growled, shoving him back. “I'm mad at you.”

“I'm sorry about today, Claire. I don't know what happened!”

Claire ignored him and tried to unlock her door, but she kept fumbling the keys until Kyle took them and opened the door for her. “Stay away from me,” she muttered, snatching her keys back and tossing them into the bowl by the door.

“Are you sick? Do you need me to bring you anything?”

“I needed you this morning,” she spat, “to direct the project that determines our fates, remember? But no, you were too busy drinking and fooling around to be bothered with that.”

“Please, Claire, if you're sick-”

“I'm not sick!” she shouted, shoving him again. “I'm exhausted from being a casting assistant, a grip, co-writer, consultant and backup director, on top of my actual job title! I can't keep this up much longer, especially if you can't be bothered to show up for work!”

She made it to her bedroom and collapsed on the bed immediately. “I'm taking tomorrow off,” she said into her pillow, “and you're going to hire more crew, so that when I come back I'm only acting as DP. Got it?”

“Yes,” Kyle said meekly. “I'm… I'm really sorry, Claire.”

“Get out.”

She heard his footsteps recede and her front door open and close before her eyes closed and she knew nothing more.

Notes