That Blue Gibson

CH 66

Liz sat as still as possible in her makeup chair as her makeup artist Katy aimed an airbrush gun at her skin. Her phone buzzed in her hand and she tried to fight her smile, but it still tugged at the corners of her lips.

"You can smile," Katy giggled.

Liz had been in London for just over two weeks and had set a routine for her work day. She would leave her hotel with Andy before the sun came up and stop at her set trailer to go over the daily schedule and any changes that may have been made to the script, then set off for Katy to start the lengthy process of turning into Adele Astaire.
After makeup, hair and costuming, she would arrive on set for filming and by the time she arrived back at her trailer for lunch, there was something waiting for her from Dave. The first day had been flowers; English roses and peonies. They were still on the table in her trailer, the first thing she saw every morning when she arrived and she carefully trimmed their stems and changed their water daily to prolong their beauty. The second day was a cassette tape of an obscure 80s punk band with his handwritten note, I thought you'd love this. He was right of course, she had loved it, but it took four people digging through the prop department to locate a working walkman for her to listen to it on. She had sent him a picture of the ancient tape player in her lap and he had replied with, I knew you'd find a way. The third day was a CD, again forcing the same four people to locate a Discman, which she also sent a picture of. The days after resulted in a mixture of silly and thoughtful gifts that she kept on the bed in her trailer to visit when she missed him.

"So what was yesterday's surprise?" Katy asked, looking at Liz through the large mirror while mixing a pot of black eyeliner at the counter.

"A pair of mouse ears from Disneyland," Liz grinned down at her phone, scrolling through their texts to show her the selfie Dave had taken wearing the same mouse ears backward, showing off the stitched script that read 'Uno Champion'.

"Look at Taylor!" Katy giggled, pointing to him as he flipped off Dave in the background. "That's so cute! He's so cute."

Liz smiled to herself as Katy carefully painted the liner across her eyelids. "I think I finally corrected his horrible taste in beer," she whispered. Liz had arranged for a pony keg of her brewery's beer to be just off stage at each of Dave's gigs. It had taken a week-long back and forth to charm Gus, the tour manager, but with the promised use of her beach house over the holidays and all the beer he could consume, Gus had happily agreed to forego the usual Coors Light cans for her small-batch beer.

"Only one more week!" Katy giggled with excitement and Liz felt her heart speed up. He had one more week of rehearsals in LA before the band was due in London. She was promised the time off to see him, but her shooting schedule wasn't due until the director approved and with the way things were going on set, she wasn't sure he would.

*

Liz stood under the sweltering lights in her black beaded costume, gently spinning the heel of her tap shoe against the wooden stage. She listened to her director Terry and a historical consultant argue over a specific step that she had painstakingly learned back in Portland.

"That step wasn't even invented until she had retired," the consultant whined.

"I don't fucking care if it was invented after she died," Terry growled, "We're using it and that's final. From the top!"

Liz hurried back to her start and tipped her top hat forward. This was the fourteenth time she had done the routine that morning and it was only 9am. She counted off in her head as the ragtime music began and threw herself into the steps. Her mind was on the camera angles she had discussed with Terry, her steps and keeping her face in the elegant, unaffected expression Adele was famous for when Terry interrupted her.

"CUT!" he bellowed, startling Liz in the middle of a leap and causing her to stumble to the floor. "Are you dense? It's dig, toe, step, heel and then leap, fuck!"

Liz turned away from his red face as she stood, positive that was exactly what she had just done. She fought back tears, meeting eyes with Johnny who was standing just off stage when she returned to her mark and the music began again. This time she focused solely on the steps, precisely hitting her leaps and marks. When the music ended she retained her pose, waiting for Terry to call cut before breaking character, but the man remained silent. For a long moment, Liz forced herself to remain professional while this man that she was very quickly beginning to hate stared her down.

"Fucking useless," he muttered, tearing his headphones off and throwing them directly at Liz on stage.

She broke character as the headphones skidded to a stop at her feet, unable to hold back her tears any longer. She hurried off stage and into the depths of the old theater, brushing off Johnny as he tried to stop her.

"Lizzy..."

She quickly wiped her tears, trying to retain some of her stage makeup and dignity as Johnny slipped into her dressing room.

"He's awful, Johnny," she sighed, trying to hold back the second onslaught of tears.

"He's... committed," he tried, sitting next to her on a black leather couch. "He's annoyed at production, Lizzy. The half the lights were broken when he came in this morning."

"Good thing he's taking all that out on me," she quipped, rolling her eyes.

"You knew he was going to work you hard on this."

"And I'm willing to do that, but I didn't sign up to have shit thrown at me."

"That was definitely uncalled for," Johnny agreed, glaring at the closed dressing room door, "I'll go talk to him."

"No," Liz groaned, "There's like sixty people out there waiting for my sparkly ass to dance, let's just get it in the fucking can."

Liz's tap shoes clicked loudly in the silent backstage area as she left Johnny in her dressing room. The rest of the film's employees were diligently working, keeping their heads down to avoid the tyrant of a director and Liz paused only a moment for her hair and makeup to be fixed before she resumed her spot on stage. Terry was back behind the camera acting as if he didn't just verbally abuse his movie's star and Liz wondered if he might suffer from mood swings.

"All right, love," he called sweetly, "Cue lights!"

Liz glared at him as she waited for the music to start before leaping into her steps. She wanted to execute them perfectly, mostly because she wanted Terry to look like a fool for attacking her, but also because she had worked so hard to learn these steps in the days leading up to London. She landed an Over-The-Top kick and leap and went into a spin when she heard the sound of metal shearing above her head. She felt a quick glancing blow on the side of her head as she came out of the spin, only stopping when the sound of glass breaking at her feet caused her to stumble. She quickly hopped up, embarrassed and stunned, while trying to wipe the bits of broken glass from her dress, but only found more shards embedded in her palms.

"I'm fine!" she called out when the music screeched to a stop, replaced by a collective gasp from all that were watching. "I'm okay!"

She tried to laugh off the increasing pain, kicking the heavy fallen stage light out of her way as several set crew ran across the stage to her. She shook her head, trying to clear the stars she was seeing and faltered a little when she saw blood splatter on the stage at her feet. Looking up at Terry, she felt her stomach drop when she saw the horrified look on his face. "Call an ambulance," he muttered to his assistant before storming off.

"Really, I'm okay," Liz called after him as a crew member took her arm and forced her to sit.

"No, Ms. Colbert, you are not okay," the man replied, laying her back on the stage.

She focused on his thick accent as her head began to ache. "Holy shit," she gasped, her eyes wide as the tunnel vision closed in