Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

Lennox

Indy screams, and I smile.

The sound ricochets down the hallway, into the quiet hush of the library, before swelling into a peal of laughter. It's the fourth time she's done it. It's from a scene at the start of the film where five kids decide to play a game in an old abandoned hotel, because for some reason the characters never seem to understand one shouldn't walk into an abandoned, graffiti-covered building at the cusp of night.

I guess the seven of us have the same issue. Eight of us, I mean. I forgot to count Reed.

He's off with the others, only a few rooms down from us, after I assured Jamie I could be alone for a few minutes in a location that we've checked over. Jamie and Lucía found a ground floor room not far away that still has an old bed and dresser, side tables and lamps, everything still set up like thirty years hasn't passed, other than the layer of dust and the cobwebs that floated to life when Jamie half-way cracked open the boarded window.

It's a good location to start—not far from the library with our central set up, allowing us to get comfortable before tackling the upper floors. And the basement.

The basement . That knot in my stomach, which has lessened over the last hour, makes itself known again.

I scan the table, everything set, and then turn and head out into the hall. Verity and Lucía are standing just outside the doorway, looking in. I head toward them, stopping by them.

It's between takes. Jamie's going over something with Indy and Jonas. He glances back at me when I pause there.

"Pizza box reflector?" His brows go up under Willis.

"You bet." I trace my steps back to the library and grab the pizza box reflector. Which is exactly like it sounds—the lid of an extra large pizza box with aluminum foil taped to the inside. I grab it and head back to the room, past Verity and Lucía, who are quietly running lines during the filming break, and position myself where Jamie tells me to. The reflection diffuses the light on Jonas, leaving him in an awkward kind of shadow. One that would feel uneasy to anyone watching.

This film we're doing is deeply psychological. Not a lot of visible horror, just this dread-filled, macabre aesthetic where no one is who they seem.

It starts off like a lot of The Cabin in the Woods type flicks—five seemingly happy young people heading straight into a creepy-as-fuck location while anyone watching the film is thinking stupid kids, don't do it . But of course they do.

There'd be no story if they didn't step over that threshold.

If they didn't take that leap. If they didn't try to fly.

I hold on to the corners of the pizza box, raising it up like Jamie instructs, as we all fall silent around Indy and Jonas, waiting for them to do their parts, the rest of us in shadows as they act their lines, a little lovers tryst after stumbling in through the half-boarded window.

Remember that rule about "don't have sex"?

Yeah.

Although Jamie hasn't told us how this film ends. We have the script, right up until the last half of act three, and the rest he's kept to himself. He hasn't even told me. Who survives, who can be trusted, how it all works out— none of us know.

We haven't done this before. But Jamie wanted to try it. And honestly, it's fucking fantastic.

We're all wondering who's going to survive. Who's going to be the final boy or girl.

Mind games. From the film to the view. From Jamie to us. Trapped in our own questions as we film.

Jamie steps softly forward, camcorder rolling, directing with a tip of his chin for me to close in as well, and I follow his lead, all our years of working together making it feel pretty seamless. Indy laughs again, tilting her head to look off screen, her smile fading.

She's good at that look. Past her, Umar holds the boom mic, raising it up and stepping back as Indy and Jonas move, his knees bent, moving smoothly until he backs up into a dresser, but he catches himself.

I'm so focused on the production that it takes me a moment to realize Reed is standing in the far corner of the room.

He's watching Indy and Jonas from the dim light of the corner, hat flipped backward so that I can see his face, eyes following them as they move. His hands are in his pockets, pulling his drawstring pants even tighter, hugging his thigh. The arms of his t-shirt are tight around the curve of his biceps, his breath expanding his chest faintly.

Fuck. I…

I'm watching him.

He's not looking back at me. He's focused on where I should be too. And I know I should tear my eyes away, but I just keep looking. Just keep standing there, holding the pizza box reflector, Indy and Jonas moving through their lines, Jamie filming, Umar with the mic.

The back of my neck warms, a kind of tension running down into my lower back.

I don't usually feel like this.

I haven't.

Not in years. Not hardly ever. Not since Archer.

That knot in my stomach grows. I've been with guys since then—a few here or there. Guys who felt safe. Guys who felt like they'd understand me. That they'd listen to my boundaries when it comes to my body. And my boundaries when it comes to my mind.

Reed isn't safe. He doesn't look safe.

He doesn't feel safe.

Not that it even matters. Because he's here with Indy. He's here with one of my best friends. And even if he weren't, it still wouldn't matter. If it's not Indy, then it would probably be some other girl he met at some Boston University party.

Not a trans guy.

The pizza box reflector waivers, and I take a breath, focusing back on what's before me.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

One hauntingly beautiful face that feels like an echo from my past, and I'm distracted. I'm tangled. I'm twisted into memories that I haven't re-lived for years. Ones that I don't need to revisit. Dead and gone. Another life. Another me.

Fuck all of that.

I press my toes into the bottom of my Vans, standing firmly on this little patch of carpeted floor, and I focus on Indy and Jonas. I focus on the reason we're here: this film for my brother.

I blink into the dark behind Jonas.

In the far corner of the room, a mirror glints.

A shadow moves. It's reflected in the mirror, at this odd angle that I can't sort out. It's?—

Fuck .

The boarded part of the window wobbles. Maybe from the breeze, or something else that I don't have time to register, but it tips forward.

" Indy ." Her name comes from the far corner of the room, from Reed, sharp and making both her and Jonas freeze. And then Reed's moving. Both of them look that way before the board tips forward, my own feet moving now too, but the board's already falling, swinging off the top of the window, the torn curtains fluttering up, the creak of splintering wood echoing.

Indy's hands fly above her head. Jonas' twists, his hands coming up.

It all fucking happens in slow motion. The pizza box crunches under my foot, but I don't have time to get there. Neither does Reed.

The board slams down, cracking across the back of both of them, shoving Indy down to her knees. But it's Jonas who takes the brunt of the board, pushed back on his ass, half covered by the wood.

Everyone is moving now. Voices raised.

Indy's shaking her head, saying something, twisting her arm to look at the blood on her forearm, welling from her elbow.

But Jonas is silent.

A deep chill rushes over me. Bigger than anything I've felt today as I slam down to my knees next to him. My hands on his shoulder, as he turns his head, blinking at me.

"Jonas?"

There's blood on his temple.

He blinks again, but he seems hazy. Seems far away.

Fuck, fuck . Jamie's next to me.

I reach for Jonas's hand. "We need to get help."

"We've been here for forty minutes," I say to the nurse.

And they give me a dubious look. "So, you're over at that abandoned hotel on K street?"

"Yes." I nod toward Jonas, sitting behind us at the desk. He's much more coherent now, pressing a cloth to his temple, responding to questions that Lucía asks him. I'm still really fucking worried. Lucky we're only two blocks from urgent care, so we hoofed it quickly over.

Jamie stands next to me, tension rolling off him. "He really needs to see someone."

Indy has already gone back. I don't want to complain about that considering that obviously she needed to be seen too. But some elbow cuts and scrapes seem like a much less serious situation than a head wound.

"Next doctor available." The nurse pauses, taking in our whole group. "And so you're just wandering around this abandoned building?"

"Yes." Jamie groans, probably tired of explaining it again. The oversized clock behind the desk says it's close to two in the morning. His fingers rattle against his thighs like his brain is full of thoughts.

Of course it is.

The worst thing that could ever happen is that someone gets hurt.

Obviously, we're skirting on that issue. Every time we're filming in the dark. Every time we're on any kind of set or location. There have been scrapes and bruises and cuts before. Last film, Verity got a knee scrape on a fence that ended up requiring stitches.

We take the risk, though. All of us know what could happen.

The nurse's gaze sweeps over Jamie. "At night?"

I set a hand on the counter. "That's the optimum time to film a scene that takes place at night."

I'm being a bit sarcastic. And probably a bit of a dick. Although, I'm not sure I fully care right now. Jonas needs to be seen. The nurse can think whatever they want of me.

And clearly they are, a cold look pointed my way. "I'm supposed to report anything that seems too far out of bounds. Or that seems like it's creating an ongoing situation."

"We're not doing anything wrong," Jamie says. "We're just trying to make a movie." His voice softens at the end, lowering into his deepest register, just this sadness there. I hear it so clearly, and the nurse must too, because their shoulders ease.

"We'll get your friend in soon." They swipe a folder off the counter and turn.

"Thanks," Jamie mumbles.

It's another fifteen minutes before Jonas goes back, Lucía going with him. Indy is still somewhere behind that closed door with Reed. Verity and Umar head to get some coffee on the far side of the room. I'm sunk into one of the waiting room seats, my ass numb from sitting in one place for so long, a headache brewing in the very back of my skull.

Jamie stands. He scans the room and then heads toward the stairs, slipping through the door and letting it close behind him.

I push up to my feet and follow.

I slip through the door after him. "Jamie?"

My brother's crouched over, his hands on his knees, his shoulders sunk in the middle.

He looks up at me, his face drawn. "Fuck, Lenn."

My stomach tightens. "I know."

He shakes his head. "There was real blood."

"I know."

He sighs, pushing up to his full height. "That place… I don't know. Maybe we've gotten in deeper than we realized. I mean, fuck ." He turns, hands rising to the top of his head, overlaying Willis. He stands there for a long moment, staring at the wall.

"It's a lot," I agree. It was . Tonight was a roller coaster. And I don't know that we were prepared. "There's no way anyone wanted tonight to end like this, but I think they'll be fine. We're here, getting help. That's the best we can do right now."

He rotates on his heel to look at me. " I put them in that situation."

"It's not that simple." I rub at the back of my neck. "We all chose to go into that building. I've backed you up on this project since the start. It just happened. We've had scrapes and bruises before."

Jamie sighs, his eyes moving up the railings to where they crisscross above us. "I don't feel good about it."

"Of course you don't. You're a good fucking person, and you don't want anyone to get hurt."

He wipes a hand over his mouth, then winces. "I feel fucking sick . I feel like I did this. I feel like—" His voice cracks, his hand moving up to cover his eyes.

I step forward, closer to him. His breath is uneven, his chest moving. I wrap an arm around him, and he sinks into me. He smells like my brother—like wool and soap—and he turns into me.

I hug him hard. I don't know if he cries, but he doesn't not cry either. He holds onto me, and we stand there together, my hand in a fist on his back, keeping him next to me until he shakes his head and steps back, wiping at his eyes.

He blows out a breath. "Maybe we should call it, Lenn. I can't have people getting hurt. There's too much risk. I can't ask anyone to go back into that building."

I take him in. His distress. His worry. The way he's standing. His stomach grumbled when I was hugging him, but I don't say anything about it now.

"I don't know," I say.

I really, really don't. I'm at an impasse of thought, where I'm not sure of the answer.

Have we reached a line we shouldn't cross?

Maybe?

But it's taken months of prep work to get into this building, and everyone's been in on the project since day one. Pretty much everyone has something riding on it too. Jamie's put it forward to a producer who is keen to take a look. Verity, Umar and Lucía are using it as part of their final graduation project. Indy is planning to use it as part of her acting portfolio. Jonas too, with the editing.

And I… Well, I don't want to put myself into this. I'm not sure my reason is a full reason. But the point is that this isn't just Jamie's project. It's all of ours. It's all of our risks and rewards, and that makes it a group decision.

"I think we have to put it to the group." I lean back against the wall. "I don't think you can make this decision unilaterally."

He presses his lips, studying me for a long moment. "I could make it unilaterally, though. You know that if I said we're done, we'd be done."

I nod. "I know, Jamie."

He sighs. "But okay. I guess it is a group decision. We've got to put it to everyone."

"But not tonight." I sink back against the wall. I'm so fucking tired. And I have a feeling there's a lot more night left. "We can meet at Randy's tomorrow before filming. And we'll put it to the group, and everyone makes a choice."

He nods, glancing over my shoulder through the tiny window in the door. "If anything else happens, though, I'm going to say we're done. This feels like a path we could just keep sliding down until something really fucking bad happens, and someone has to hold the final decision."

I push off the wall. "And if that happens, I'll back you up. No question."

"Thanks, Lenn."

"Always."

He reaches a hand out and squeezes my shoulder, then his eyes move to the window again. "Indy's out."

Oh fuck, I breathe out in relief. I turn to pull on the handle of the door when it swings in, and I jump back. Reed is there, suddenly in the doorway, so fucking tall. The light in the hallway is fairly saturated compared to the hotel, and even Randy's, and he's so clear , face lit enough that I can see that raised jaw and cheekbones more etched than I'd realized. A roughness to his skin.

"Is Indy okay?" Jamie asks, and then Indy pushes past him.

She's talking a million miles a minute about how it's just a few cuts and scrapes, nothing serious, but before she even finishes telling us, she shoves into my brother, wrapping him in a hug, pushing up to her toes to tell him something in his ear.

She knows .

She knows how he's feeling. His guilt. His worry. She didn't even have to hear him say anything, she just knew .

Jamie leans back, smiling down at her, his hand rising up to cup her jaw. "You should get home."

I'm watching them. Standing there next to Reed, and there's a click, a maneuvering of something in the back of my head as she bites on her bottom lip, still on her toes looking up at him.

"Yeah, I'm over today," she whispers. "I just want to be in my pjs."

His hand falls from her cheek. "I want to stay here for Jonas. Can Lenn go home with you?"

I side-glance at Reed, who is watching them too. His expression is distant as always, but that tightness in his jaw is there. Is he seeing what I'm seeing?

Am I seeing what I'm seeing?

Indy yawns, covering her mouth with her hand. "You good to go, Lenn?"

"Always," I say.

"Good." Jamie leans down to kiss Indy's forehead, and then he steps back, reaching out a hand to Reed. "Thanks, man."

Reed shakes it. "I hope everyone's okay."

Jamie gives him a polite smile. "Me too."