Chapter 84: Reckless Fool

The film set was rather lively, a quiet hum and din to the ice-rink as the cinematographers checked their cameras, the lightning crew adjusted the overhead rigs and rest of the crew moved about with a practiced yet familiar efficiency.

Seated in the stands, gliding on the ice, aimlessly standing near the barricades, several extras engaged in hushed conversations, the occasional laughter echoing through the air from time to time.

At the same time, two of the movie’s main cast alongside the Murray himself, stood near one of the barricades.

First was Matthew Connery, the lead actor whom was a sharp-looking man in his mid-forties with a tousled yet slightly messy, deep-toned black hair that loosely fell around his face in almost sort of matted way, his irises a striking ice-blue.

He had a rather unconventional look to him, one that only served to add a subtle layer of ruggedness yet undeniably masculine charm to him. Currently, he was dressed in the simple yet drab attire of Elias Mercer, the movie’s protagonist.

Yet to win an Emmie Award as a lead actor in a movie, Matthew was banking on his role in [Rink] to give him said award.

Next to him was Colonel Roberts, a middle-aged veteran in his late fifties renowned for having bagged several acting awards in the past and was simply acting in whatever interested him these days.

He sported a combed over hair--one that did a good job of highlighting the streaks of grey in his air, dark-brown irises and trimmed greying beard.

A bit on the thinner side of an average build, he was a man of medium height that contrasted against Matthew’s lithe frame and six-foot height.

He was also dressed in a casual shirt and jeans, though he held a face cap in his hands. One he was soon to use for the scene they would be shooting today for his role as Howard Hale, Elias’ coach.

Casually, the trio conversed whilst looking at the rink below, Murray currently pointing to a strip of gaffer tape marked on the ice, his arm moving from time to time to signify to the others.

If one had moved close to them at that very moment, they would’ve heard the renowned director saying;

"I want you to naturally look there, and there, and there at the precise moments the extras nail a trick. That way, the cameras can easily cut and transition between you and the ice rink at perfect intervals to sell the environment and atmosphere naturally."

Yes. That was just how much of a perfectionist Murray was. A man with such clear vision of what he wanted, he didn’t hesitate to inform the actors of it, even if he was more than aware that they were veterans.

At the same time, a bunch of kids ranging from their tweens to early teens huddled up around the Murray’s assistant director, nodding attentively as the man equally pointed to other areas marked on the ice while telling them to stick to the cones at the side.

Naturally, Murray didn’t want any clashes or unfortunate mistakes between the extras and the main supporting actor whom would be in the very same scene, hence why he had said assistant inform the kids whom were set to also be in the scene.

Speaking of the supporting actor himself, he simply reclined into his seat, hands tucked into his coat pocket and a thin smile on his lips as he awaited the filming to actually begin.

Clearly, he was excited to be on set again. But in Niall-like fashion, he remained reserved about it.

Soon enough, Murray was done talking with the duo and he left.

A few seconds after, Matthew let out a long sigh, one that Colonel caught. And though he knew why, he refused to say a single thing.

Murray could be quite... hard... to work with. That much was clear given his reputation.

Often times though, several of these actors didn’t realize just how much that would be until they actually got on set.

In reality though, people--like Colonel--whom had previously worked with him, knew better than to simply come to that conclusion.

Rather, it was more fitting to say that Murray’s perfectionism typically pushed actors into subconsciously giving it their all for every scene.

Afterall, when a director was practically bombarding you with all the little details you typically never accounted for on an average day on set, it was easy to tunnel-vision yourself into assuming that he was pestering you over what you already knew... hence the weariness that usually came with being on his set.

Sadly, only very few got to realize what was actually at play, Colonel being one of them.

It was also unfortunate that Matthew didn’t seem like one of the rare few who actually figured that out.

More than that, the man seemed to be weighing down upon Niall with scrutiny, as was so many others on set.

Afterall, not only had Murray not gone over to instruct him like he had for them, but he had also completely left him out of all the criticism he’d given all the other actors on the day of script-reading session a couple weeks back for not fully understanding their characters.

At this point, it was only natural that everyone was starting to think he was playing some form of favoritism.

It was also why Niall was currently in some sort of weird isolation from his colleagues when compared to the rest of the crew who seemed to have a healthy work relationship with one another.

Well, asides from Colonel, that is.

Considering how many times he and the renowned director had worked together, he could already infer from his few interactions with the young chap just why Murray had let him be.

In any case, it didn’t take long before Murray gestured to everyone on set to take their positions.

Given the first few scenes detailing Elias losing at the competition and retiring from figure skating, all the way down to the officials eventually revealing that his scores had been rigged years later would be shot at a later date, the very first scene they would be filming today, was the scene where Elias would be meeting Noah for the very first time.

However, just before Matthew settled into character fully, a curious thought tugged on his mind as he noticed Niall fastening the laces of his skating boots;

’Isn’t he supposed to have a stunt double?’

At that very moment, Murray settled into his chair, the man arching his neck, back and waist with a slight wince of pain on his features before finally raising the megaphone to his mouth and ordering;

"Begin."

-

{Rink | 28th, January 2018 | Act 2 | Scene 2 | Take 1}

The late morning sun filtered through the frost-matted windows of the Ice Center, casting long, thin streaks of its rays across the otherwise pristine sheet of ice.

Tweens clumsily weaved between the orange cones placed down, while teenagers practiced their spins beneath the watchful eyes of their instructors, their parents and guardians chatting in the stands.

Standing at the edge of the rink, hands buried in the pockets of his coat, Elias’ gaze lingered on the very place where he’d once spent every waking hour of his life chasing perfection.

Yet, it was also the first time he’d willingly decided to step onto the ice itself in almost eight years.

"You still stare at it the same way," a familiar voice reached out to him, walking and stepping up beside him.

It was Howard Hale. His former coach.

Though age had introduced more grays into his hair and had softened the sternness of his features, his posture remained as ramrod straight as ever.

"I was wondering how long you’d stand off there in the corner pretending not to notice me," Elias faintly smirked.

"Well, I wanted to see if you’d run away first." Howard chuckled in response.

"...Tempting." Elias managed to let out a few seconds after, a thin smile touching his lips.

For a fair while after that, neither of them spoke, both men silently watching the skaters glide across the rink from time to time.

Soon though...

"You got the letter?" Howard asked.

"I did." Elias replied curtly.

"And?" Howard followed up to which Elias reached into his coat before handing Howard an envelope bearing the federation’s insignia as he said;

"I accepted."

To that, Howard closed his eyes briefly, massaged his temples a bit and then accepted the letter as he spoke with a resigned sigh;

"Of course you did..."

"But, you must know why they’re doing this, right? It’s not because they feel bad about what happened." Howard pointed out as he turned to face his former protégé.

"The exhibition championship? The press that’ll come with it? The redemption story they can leech of off and a heated rivalry they want to reignite?" Elias scoffed a bit.

"Yeah, I know." he replied dryly to which then added;

"I don’t care. I just don’t care. Their games, the politics, the medal... I really couldn’t give two shits about it."

"I just... I just want to--need to, prove... one last time, that my career wasn’t a lie."

Yet again, Howard sighed, the man dragging a palm down his face as he removed his cap and asked a couple seconds later;

"The doctors haven’t changed their opinion, have they?"

"They never do." Elias voice was deathly calm... not that it stopped his hand from drifting to the bad leg almost instinctively before he sharply withdrew it.

Naturally, Howard caught it. Hence why he warned;

"Another competitive season could permanently destroy what’s left of that knee,"

"I know." Elias replied calmly.

"You’ll probably need a replacement before you’re fifty at this rate," Howard warned a second time.

"I know." Elias replied much the same.

"One more landing on it could be the last roll of the dice, Elias." the former coach seemed to plead with him to reconsider.

"That’s a creative way to put it." Elias smirked faintly in response.

"You’ve already given this sport everything, son. You don’t owe it another piece of yourself." Howard continued speaking to which Elias simply smiled a bitter smile and replied;

"Maybe. But I’m going to do it anyway."

No sooner had he said that, he proceeded to move onto the rink.

For a brief moment, Howard considered what more he could say to convince his former student of his decision. However, he had just as quickly realized that there really wasn’t.

As a result,

"...I believe you can still win," the former coach let out after a while, halting Elias in his steps.

Allowing those words to hang in the air, he then added;

"I also believe it’s going to kill what’s left of your body,"

Naturally, another bitter smile crept up to Elias’ lips.

"But, if you’re going to be the stubborn man you’ve always been, at least let me coach you one last time." Howard offered, and for the first time since their conversation had begun, Elias’ smile became genuine as he replied;

"I was hoping you’d say that."

Just then, a loud shout rang through the rink!

"NOAH!"

Both men instinctively looked toward the opposite end of the rink, one where a cluster of tweens and teens had gathered around a young chap who couldn’t have been older than twenty.

"C’mon, Noah!"

"Do the flying camel!"

"No, no! The Biellmann!"

"You nailed that combo yesterday!"

In response, the chap in question merely laughed, effortlessly gliding backward as the crowd of kids continued shouting increasingly ridiculous requests to which he responded;

"You’re all trying to get me killed!"

"Triple Axel!" one younger tweens suddenly yelled to which the others immediately erupted in sync;

"Yeah!"

"Do it! Do it! Do it!"

As Howard watched it all play out, he folded his arms as his brows furrowed;

"He’s not actually--"

Noah blitzed off, pushing himself faster and faster!

As his edges carved deep crescents into the ice, he built an insane speed within seconds with a frightening confidence.

Immediately, Elias frowned as he spoke;

"He’s got nowhere near enough setup--"

Noah launched himself skyward, his form spinning in the air as time seemed to slow down with one rotation... two rotations... and finally, three rotations!

"Impossible..." Elias breathed out the words, clearly stunned beyond measure.

Yet, just as Noah completed the rotations and proceeded to land, his blade clipping the ice...

...his balance suddenly gave way.

Instantly, his feet shot out from beneath him and he hit the ice squarely on his backside, sliding several feet before finally coming to a stop by the barrier with a dull thud.

And yet, as the rink fell silent...

"Hahaha!"

...Noah burst into a boisterous and infectious laughter, his gloved palms slapping the ice in quick succession as he pumped both hands into the air;

"Oh...! So close!"

Immediately after, he sprang back to his feet before anyone could even skate over to check on him, grinning from ear to ear as though he’d just won the Olympic gold instead of failing spectacularly.

The kids around him had already began laughing with him with a sense of familiarity, already shouting suggestions for what he should try next.

Yet, Elias could only stare in bewilderment, clearly not a fan of his recklessness as he asked of Howard;

"Who is that?"

"A prodigy in the making," the former coach simply replied with a resigned sigh, a quiet admiration in his tone as he added;

"Noah Bennett."

In response, Elias snorted as he glided onto the ice;

"That’s no prodigy."

"That’s a reckless fool." he harshly criticized, his eyes following the reckless youth who kept laughing amidst the kids.

"And... Cut!"

-

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/Caer07