I blink at him, certain I’ve heard him wrong. “I…What?”
“You could have a city the size of Duluth, Minnesota, made entirely of Elvises,” he says. “How great is that?”
I didn’t even realize what a big knot I had in the center of my chest until I burst out laughing and feel it start to dissolve. “Why do you even know that?”
“I collect weird facts.”
“And what made you think of that now?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. I thought you might be interested. Was I wrong?”
“No, I definitely feel like a more well-rounded person now that I know that,” I say. I gesture to his drill. “So, you do…set stuff?”
“Yup. We’re building today, but I mostly do scenic design. I get to assist Olivier von Drasek on Midsummer and Dreamgirls. Have you seen him around?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe. What does he look like?”
“Here.” Russell pulls his phone out of his pocket, taps it a few times, and holds it out to me. Smiling up from the screen is a guy a little younger than my dad with a roguish, dimpled smile, an artfully scruffy beard, and a dashing swoop of silver hair. He’s wearing a perfectly fitted suit and a purple tie, and he looks like he’d be more at home walking red carpets than designing sets.
“Pretty sure I haven’t seen him,” I say. As I hand the phone back, I notice the picture’s not up in the Internet browser; Russell has it saved in his phone. That’s a little bizarre.
“The man’s a complete genius; his work is so freaking stunning, I can’t even deal. I applied to Allerdale the second I heard he was going to be here. I don’t even believe I get to spend six weeks with him. Being near him is, like, inspirational, you know? I wish I could staple myself to him and soak up his amazingness every second of the day.” He gazes down at the photo. “And look at his hair. How does he even get it to do that?”
Russell’s face has taken on a whole new quality, like someone has plugged him into one of those jumper cables and lit him up from the inside, and the picture on his phone starts to make sense. I guess he wasn’t flirting with me after all. Well, that totally sucks.
“That’s really cool,” I say. I hope he doesn’t hear the disappointment in my voice.
“If I impress him here, I’m hoping he’ll let me assist him on shows in the city this fall. Can you even imagine? I would die to get inside that man’s studio.” The way he says it, it kind of seems like the last word of that sentence should be “pants.”
Russell hands me the sidearm and picks up his own stuff. “Sorry, I’m rambling. I should probably get back up to the scene shop. But it was really nice to meet you.”
I’ve only known him five minutes, but I’m already really disappointed to see him go. Even if he’s not going to flirt with me, he’s still the first person who’s been nice to me since last night. All the other acting apprentices feel far away right now, and the lighting people clearly aren’t interested in letting me be one of them. Russell feels like the kind of friend I’m going to be allowed to have here.
“Nice to meet you, too,” I say. “Thanks so much for the help. See you around?”
“See you, Brooklyn from Manhattan,” he says. “Don’t worry. You’re going to be fine.”
He gives me such a reassuring smile that I almost feel ready to go back upstairs and face Zach. Almost.
I wake up the next morning when a balled-up pair of socks bounces off my head.
I squint against the light coming through the windows and try to move, but my body won’t cooperate. Every single muscle in my arms and legs and back aches like crazy from hauling lights up and down stairs yesterday, and I find a raised bruise under my hair from when I banged my head into a pipe. There is absolutely no way I can make it through nine weeks of Allerdale if I’m going to feel like this every morning.
“Brooklyn!” Another pair of socks hits my shoulder; Zoe’s obviously not going to leave me alone to wallow. I force myself to roll over.
“Stop,” I groan. “Sleeping.”
“You have to get up! We have a master class with Marcus this morning!”
I’m suddenly very, very awake. “What? Already? We just got here!”
“I know! Oh my God, what should I wear?”