Extra Life by Derek Nikitas Read Free Book Online

you know, a fairly light touch. It takes tremendous bravery.”
    Savannah was struggling to keep her chipper facade. She was digging through her purse, possibly for pepper spray in case I was fixing to say something really stupid and needed to be stopped. I was big-time flubbing this monologue. The camera was not going to roll this afternoon, and Sally the waitress and I were the only ones who’d be disappointed.
    “I ain’t gay, you know,” Bobby said.
    “I wasn’t—” I said. “I’m talking about your acting. The way you became the character at a level I’ve never…” Then I remembered why I brought up the show in the first place. “Hold on,” I said.
    Connie had something I needed. When I lunged for him, he flinched backward and planted his butt on one of the stools at the lunch counter. I grabbed him by both shoulders and forced him to look at me. “Connie, please tell me you brought a copy of that Cape Twilight spec script I gave you.”
    His eyes shuddered in their sockets. “I- I think so. Are we still shooting? Maybe you should ask that Bobby guy to play my part,” he suggested.
    A brilliant idea, if we were living in a fantasy where all my whims were instantly indulged. But in this reality, Bobby was slapping down some bills, sliding out of the booth. He’d be gone in another minute by the looks of it.
    “Never mind my short film for a second,” I said to Connie, through gritted teeth. “I’m talking about the Cape Twilight script. Do you have it?”
    Connie slid his backpack onto the counter, unzipped it. He pushed both hands in the bag and rooted around with the slow precision of a surgeon in an open chest cavity.
    Bobby was already swaggering toward us on his way to the exit. But then he paused, turned to Savannah, and asked, “So how bout that tour?”
    Without hesitation, my leading lady poured herself out of the booth. She was going to leave with him. When she saw my anguish, she found it in her heart to explain. “We’re just going to look around the sets at Silver Screens, me and Bobby. All my shoots were on location so I’ve never actually been on the lot before. Isn’t this exciting?”
    Bobby said to me, “Good to meet you, Mike. Good luck with it all.”
    I would’ve choked if Connie hadn’t saved me. He found the prized script—a wrinkled mess of papers stained with soda can rings. I caught it in both hands.
    “Something I… wanted… to show you,” I explained, and offered the script over to Bobby. He didn’t reach for it. He looked at the pages, then at me. Suddenly, my so-called genius move stank of desperate stalkerdom.
    “What’s that?” Bobby asked. “Another spec script?”
    “I—uh—”
    “Know how many of these I see in a week, Mike?”
    “It’s Russ.”
    “Whatever. I don’t actually read these things, but the producers do. Every single one of them’s got a sweet-ass storyline about my character earning acceptance for who he is . I’m sick of it. Want to guess why that gay plot twist crap ever got written into the show in the first place?”
    “Social consciousness?” I ventured.
    Bobby snorted. “ Because ,” he said, “my fat fascist father thought it would be hilarious to humiliate me. Show the world I’d do anything for a buck.”
    “Being a huge TV star must be incredibly humbling,” Paige said, mostly to herself.
    Bobby’s squint was so tight now I couldn’t tell if his eyes were even open. Clink clink went the lighter in his hand. He yanked the script out of my grasp and took a passing glance at the cover page.
    “TV can go to hell,” he said. “You gotta spend half your time figuring out how to say this crap so you don’t sound special-needs. Show me some razor-sharp dialog in an actual film, and I’ll show y’all an Oscar nomination.”
    Then he discarded my script on the counter. He popped another cigarette into his mouth. One scrape of the lighter’s starter wheel and an inch-long flame shot upward. I could hear the