Fine. I’m going to play her little game and test out the validity of this theory.
Over the next few days, I make myself invisible. Skipping our early morning meetings over coffee, I drive myself back and forth to the set every day, and when I get home, I retreat to my office to my desktop computer. With Katrina deciding to extend her stay in Paris for a week on my dollar, my nights are not bogged down with her social events or wedding talk. Inspiration hits me. I start writing the season finale of Kurt Kussler—the one in which I realize I’m in love with my assistant Mel.
This is the first time I’ve ever written a script. I’ve installed a program on my computer called “Final Draft,” which makes formatting easy. I’m surprised how easily the words come to me. The dialogue is a snap. I know these characters inside and out. And I’ve got most of the story worked out. I wrote a beat outline first which I reviewed with our head writer, Mitch Steiner, and his talented writing staff. It’s so cool the way they meet regularly in what’s called “the story room” and feed off each other. They were thrilled to have me among them and loved my story. They, did, however give me a few notes that I thought were great—including a more dramatic ending. Each act and commercial break must end with a cliffhanger to keep viewers glued to the show and coming back for more.
By Friday night, I’m thirty pages into it. I’m about to finish the first act. The average Kurt Kussler script is sixty pages long, but mine needs to be double that length as the final episode is going to be a two-hour special. The network has high hopes for it. I just hope I can deliver. My heart races as my fingers feverishly type away.
In a big turn of events, Kurt Kussler’s loyal assistant, Melanie, has decided to part ways with him. Madly in love with her boss, she can’t handle working for him anymore and has another job offer—to go back to the CIA. She’s at his front door with her roller bag. Kurt is devastated.
KURT
Mel, you can’t leave me. We’re so close to nailing The
Locust
Mel looks away, teary-eyed.
MEL
I can’t work for you anymore. You’ll find someone else.
KURT
There’s no one like you. Please—
Kurt grabs Mel by the elbow. She jerks away from him, her face pained.
MEL
Goodbye, Kurt. (PAUSE) You’ll always be unforgettable.
Mel grabs her roller bag and exits. The front door closes behind her. Kurt bangs it hard with his fist.
FADE TO BLACK
END OF ACT 1
I don’t think I’ve ever written anything so fast. My fingers are on fire and my heart’s still beating a mile a minute. I’m feeling every emotion Kurt’s feeling. The pain. The regret. The confusion. He already knows that absence makes the heart grow fonder. It does. I f*ck
ing miss Zoey. I haven’t seen her all week. Though I can’t tell her a thing about the episode (I’m sworn to secrecy), I so want to share the euphoric experience I’ve had writing it. Grabbing my cell phone, I text her.
Have dinner with me.
I wait impatiently for her response. Nothing. I know she’s home. Her lights are on. She’s still playing games with me. I text her again.
Answer me.
Finally a reply:
Can’t. I have plans.
I frantically type a shouty four-letter word.
WHAT?
Just as fast, a response. Another four-letter word.
A date.
f*ck
her boyfriend. If I were really Kurt Kussler, I’d kill the bastard. I want him dead almost as much as I do Donatelli.
Zoey
I’ve showered and dressed. I take a look at myself in my full-length mirror. That and taking selfies are two things I don’t do too often. This time, however, my reflection smiles at me. I’ve got to say I look hot. Breaking the norm, I grab my cell phone from my purse—Mama’s vintage beaded clutch—and take a picture of myself. Maybe I’ll send it to Brandon. He’s been playing games with me. Loading me up with assignments but avoiding me. I haven’t seen him for close to a week. Maybe this selfie will remind him of what I look like. Or should I say, can look like.