“Right, the lighting is beautiful. We’ve got a lovely airy space.” Margot rubbed her hands together. “They’ve done such a great job considering we’ve given them–” she looked at her watch, “–twenty minutes.” I walked over to the set, which I had to admit was impressive. They’d found items from a previous shoot that they mixed together. A window in the background with light drapes. Neutral bedding to keep the feeling of light. “Everything as you want it?” Margot asked behind me.
“Yeah, it’s great. Just what I pictured.”
“We’ve got two cameras. One, Joe will work and can be static and the other, which is smaller and moveable can be used by Will.”
“Do you use that to get close up shots?” I asked.
“Yeah, we’d have someone right in on the scene, underneath them, essentially, to get the close ups.” She crouched down to the camera, looking in the viewfinder and making some adjustments. “Do we know where Will is?” she asked, still focusing on the camera. I hadn’t seen him all week, just exchanging text messages, checking in with each other. I gave him the times and other details for tonight but hadn’t received a reply.
“I’m not entirely sure he’s going to…” The door buzzer blared through the loft space, making me jump.
Margot smiled. “This is probably him.”
My stomach did this weird, flip-flop motion. It always dipped or fluttered, sometimes just at the mention of his name or his folded glasses on the coffee table in the flat, telling me he was around, close and real. This flip-flop was bigger. Tremendous and bold. I stood just to feel like I was in control of it, my hand holding it tight to give me a sense of grounding.
It had been a week. A full week without seeing him. We’d gone that long before. He had a reckless stage where his level head had become not so level and he decided to go travelling with a backpack, no real plans, and a twenty-pound note in his pocket. He went to Ibiza and partied for two weeks, returning sunburnt and trying to pass off his holiday as a life changing experience.
But that two-week gap hadn’t started with us wrestling tongues.
“Hey,” he said, bursting into the space and waving to me. “Look who I found on the way.”
Reid and his partner, James, followed behind him, both greeting Margot with a hug when she refused the formality of a handshake. I’d met James a couple of times, wanting to meet him after Reid had suggested they film the scene together. We’d talked about his diagnosis of HIV, how he believed it was passed on by a previous partner who had since passed away from an AIDS-related illness. He didn’t contact James directly to suggest he have a test and he had messy feelings about that, wishing that his ex-partner had considered his health, rather than be consumed by his feelings of guilt. James was in good health, explaining that medication will prolong his life and joking that he’ll probably die through other means such as a safety rope failing when chasing his passion for rock climbing, or a quad bike falling on him in a freak accident.
James and Reid understood my passion for this project during a late-night heart-to-heart at Turnip the Beet. Over wine and cake, James spoke about his HIV diagnosis and I talked about Elliott. We all agreed that the dialogue would include a conversation about health and trying to take the stigma out of taking a test, which should be part of self-care and sexual health as much as a smear test or routine gynaecological appointment. James was more than happy to say on camera that he had HIV and that Reid was aware before they started the scene. We all felt this was another positive message, that sex could be enjoyed as safely as possible.
“How are you?” James asked, kissing me twice as Reid followed.
“Nervous.” I smiled as I noticed Will and Margot having a conversation behind them. Will pulled her in for a hug but quickly moved away, taking off his jacket and busying himself with his phone.
“The set looks great,” Reid said. “Neutral, no gimmicks. Perfect.”
“Just the messages we want to convey,” I replied. “That’s the most important thing.”
“Can we start getting ready?” James asked. He was a very attractive older man. Reid was in his early twenties and James had just celebrated his fortieth birthday. He rocked the silver fox look; both his hair and beard were heavily flecked. His bright eyes and wide smile were easy to find irresistible.
“Yes, just through there. You’ll find everything you need.”
“Skye, can I just show you the monitors?” Wes said, Margot’s camera guy. He took me over to a video screen, there were a few dotted around and when he turned it on, they all came alive. “When I point the camera and we start filming, the monitors will show you what I’m seeing in the view finder. It’s great for you to focus on when you’re directing. It allows you to see the film as the audience would.” He pulled up a chair and directed me to sit down. As Wes picked up the camera, I could immediately see the bed on the monitor. “There you go. You can see what we’re picking up on there.”
“That’s perfect,” I said, “thanks.”
I enjoyed the lull for a moment. Everyone was busy, some checking equipment, others getting a drink and settling down
