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Tiffany paced at the edge of the Quiet Zone. Her heels clicked on the concrete. She pulled out her phone, bringing up her contact list. Her nails clacked against the screen. She breathed deep then told herself, one more. If her client laughed one more time, she was calling Kelvin.

Aliyah struggled that morning. She couldn’t get through any of her scenes without laughing. Today, they filmed at the studio, shooting in the interrogation room. She and her co-star, Dylan, played a clumsy game of good cop, bad cop. The scene was funny, but that didn’t mean she could laugh.

A bald man in an orange jumpsuit sat at the table. The crew pulled away a wall for the shots inside. They removed the ceiling to get the lighting right overhead. Hair and makeup rotated in between takes. A dozen others busied themselves behind the equipment.

“From the top,” the director shouted, “Just hold the look a little longer, okay, Aliyah?”

She gave him a thumbs-up then returned to her mark while staring at the floor. The one-way mirror saw into the room. She blinked like her lashes were bothering her. Dylan shut the door behind them.

“Action!”

INTERIOR – INTERROGATION ROOM – DAY

The door opens, and OFFICER ROBERTS walks out. She wears a tight-fitting police uniform and fidgets with her utility belt. OFFICER MILLER walks out behind her, brooding. They both stand at the mirror. He leans on his elbow to show off his bicep. He’s tall and square-jawed with piercing blue eyes and unruly blond hair.

She snickers to herself.

OFFICER MILLER nods then presses the button for the intercom.

When the button clicks off, OFFICER ROBERTS slaps him in the arm.

OFFICER MILLER broods some more then presses the button again.

The button clicks off. OFFICER ROBERTS scoffs a second time, dumbstruck.

Aliyah held the look as long as she could. She had to gawk at Dylan like he was an idiot. It should’ve been easy for her. She’d done that look a thousand times. And she never laughed then.

Why was she laughing now?

Tiffany stormed out of the Quiet Zone after the director shouted cut. She called Kelvin as she headed for the back exit. Cables ran across the floor, taped down in bundles. She tripped over one.

“I can do better!” Aliyah shouted.

“Nah, you did great. That was long enough. Let’s break for lunch. We’ve worked hard this morning.”

Outside, Tiffany wedged one of her high heels into the door. It locked from the inside otherwise. Cigarette butts littered the sidewalk. The air smelled of ash of smoke. She got Kelvin’s machine at first, but he called back right away.

“What’s up? Something wrong?”

“Aliyah keeps laughing. She can’t get through her scenes. She’s been off all morning. I think I know what’s wrong, but I can’t fix it. She needs you.”

Something rustled on his end. “What is it? How can I help?”

“Can you get down here? We’re at the studio.”

His phone picked up some chatter.

“Absolutely. I can be there in thirty. Should I bring anything?”

“No. Just you. I’ll get everything ready over here. Come to Gate C. Let me know when you’re close.”

Tiffany sent him the address before hurrying inside. She covered her ears in the hallway. At lunch, the crew worked on finishing the set pieces. The buzz of the table saws made her cringe.

Aliyah paced outside her dressing room. She fiddled with her badge, reflecting the light overhead. A speckle of gold dots shined on her uniform.

“There you are,” she said, “Can you call Kelvin? I need him.”

“I already have. He’s on his way.”

Tiffany skipped lunch that day. With the change of plans, she grabbed a power bar to go then returned to the set. She informed the director about their guests then told the producers. She also called the main office to request a one-day pass. They printed it for her, but she had to pick it up herself. She hopped in a golf cart to make the trip, racing to Gate C afterward.

A tour bus stopped her at an intersection. “And on our left, the iconic studio where they filmed…”

Kelvin arrived a couple minutes early. An iron fence surrounded the property with cameras mounted at every gate. The bars were tall without much space between. Vegetation grew along the outside and hid the barbed wire.

A small shack sat in the middle of the entrance. The sun bleached the walls an ugly white. Traffic flowed on both sides. Kelvin had to open his door to hand over his license. Apparently, his window didn’t work. One of the security guards put him in the system while another searched his car. Once they gave him his pass, Tiffany took over.

“Follow me.”

Her golf cart sped away, humming like a cheap toy. They never went fast enough for her. The wheels thudded over the cobblestone. She directed him to the closest spot she could find. He climbed out with his pass dangling from his neck.

“Get in,” she said.

He jerked back when she shifted into gear.

“What happened? How can I help?”

“Aliyah keeps laughing. She’s been working with Dylan this morning, and she’s having trouble landing her looks. In the scene, she’s supposed to gawk at him like he’s an idiot. But she’s not holding it. You know the look I’m talking about, right?”

Kelvin slumped in his seat. “Oh, shit.”

Tiffany pulled into the backlot, parking along the curb. The brakes squeaked. Markus waited for them at the door. He and Kelvin bumped fists as they hurried inside.

The construction from lunch hadn’t wrapped up yet. A touch of sawdust hung in the air. She led him down a hallway, shouting over the ruckus.

“We saw that video, by the way. With Graham or whatever. He came at you pretty hard, but you did well.”

“Seriously? I thought I lost my temper.”

“Nah, nothing too bad. He pushed, and you pushed back. It’s good you have a little fight in you.”

A line of doors stretched along the outer wall. Each had a star on the outside displaying the cast member’s name. Music filtered into the hall from a few rooms. They passed several before reaching Aliyah’s.

“I’m gonna be straight with you.” Tiffany stopped and spun around. He almost ran into her. “You need to step up. Take her off the pedestal.” She fixed his collar then ran a hand through his hair. “She doesn’t need a fan anymore. She needs a boyfriend, you understand?” She opened the door, shoving him inside. “Now, be it.”