I got out of the car and slung my backpack over my shoulder. I didn’t even glance at anyone as I ran to the classroom, which I still had to find.
There it is! Inside, there were a couple desks arranged in a semicircle. I sat down next to Alex and William.
Ten minutes later, all seats were occupied. A tall, slender man with backswept, graying hair entered the classroom. It was trimmed at the sides, and his eyes were framed by rectangular, black-rimmed glasses. He was wearing a black T-shirt, slightly worn dark gray jeans, and purple converse.
«Hi guys! I’m Brendon Bern. My students tend to shorten that to BB,» he wrote two capitalized Bs on the board, «and that’s okay. I’m going to lead your group for the first two classes: «Film Directing» and «Cinematic Storytelling,» plus a class on screenwriting and, as I call it, ‘Write your own story’.»
Classes went on until evening. There were two breaks, during which the students got to know the cafeteria.
«Not many people become real directors: that comes from the depths of the human soul and subconscious. This field of work is crazy: lengthy, meticulous and extremely difficult. If you have even the smallest doubt in your abilities, the door’s open, and I’d advise you to leave this building immediately and avoid it in the future. You see, you have to envision beforehand how everything’s going to look,» he paused and studied each face, «you have to work with the screenplay, create a clear plan, but nonetheless always be ready for improvisation during takes and criticism afterwards. The set is your home, your world, your universe, where only those who’ll help you put your thoughts onscreen can enter.»
Mr. BB did everything so that we’d feel, from the very first day, that we’d entered another world: the world of the film industry. He gave a persuasive lecture on how important it was for directors to have acting experience, and made it clear that this would be the basis of his lessons: «The director is in front of the camera, just like the actor. Not behind it.»
«I don’t follow the rules or the schedule by the door: I constantly improvise. That’s why you’ll have a hard time guessing beforehand what our next topic is.»
This was followed by my first performance on a small stage, when, instead of homework, Mr. BB thought up a «tricky» improv for the topic of «mise-en-scène.» We had to stage a small scene from any film and play the main roles in front of graduate students. They now looked appraisingly at my co-star Alex and me.
God, my hands are shaking like crazy! Yet I feel strangely euphoric inside. I proposed a scene from «Pulp Fiction.» Pretty sure you know which one.
So, the girl dressed up as Marilyn holds the prize, and the announcer asks Mia to introduce herself. Everything’s just like that shot from the Tarantino film, even Mia Wallace’s gold shoes. Only her toenail polish slipped my mind. I’m playing Uma Thurman; Alex is John Travolta’s Vincent Vega. And here it comes, Chuck Berry’s song «You can never tell.» The main thing here, of course, is the twist.
It was worth it! I was waiting for the moment when we’d get a standing ovation from the whole room, even if it wasn’t all that big. For some reason I was really surprised by it. Winning at life level: 51 percent! It’s an incredible feeling. Just like that light, dizzy sensation when you take your wig off at the end of the show…
There were twelve people in my group, and everyone turned out to be really friendly. They each had their thing. For example, Alex was amazing at getting into character. He’d probably be better off studying performing arts rather than filmmaking. He was always blowing on his long bangs when he was stressed; it was like his trademark. Rosie was a whiz at thinking up ideas for commercials, but when it came to movies her face fell, probably at the thought that she was on the wrong career path and would end up failing. I often noticed her sighs of annoyance when Mr. BB questioned her. Anna Maria was simply very inquisitive. I can’t say I saw any great talent in her, or even effort to learn about the film industry. TJ was a mystery to me. I felt that for him, these courses were a chance to prove something to himself. His gaze was far away in another world, even during the lessons. He always walked around with a little video camera and jotted down notes on pieces of paper or napkins in the cafeteria. Strangely, I didn’t consider for a minute what they thought about me. I was much more interested in someone else’s opinion…
The air in Los Angeles is full of hope and peace of mind. «What is it here that always attracted me?» I thought, lying on the lawn. I lowered my book and listened to the whisper of the leaves. It felt like they were alive and that a heart was beating inside the tree, giving life to every leaf. That’s what my mom taught me.
«I was lying right there in that exact same position,» came a familiar voice.
I lowered my shades.
«With a J. D. Salinger book?»
«Nope. Haven’t read about that dude in the red hunting hat.» David smiled. «Didn’t expect to see you here.»
«Same.»
Neither of us seemed to know what to say next.
«What are you, uh, doing here?»
«Studying.»
«Studying what?»
«Filmmaking and screenwriting. I came here to attend classes.»
«Got it.»
«You?»
«I’m mostly working here. I help students shoot music videos, stuff like that, but definitely not for free.» He laughed.
«Nice way to earn some cash.»
«I can knock 200 bucks off the price for you.»
David smiled pleasantly. He looked a lot better.
«When did you leave?»
«Several days after you did.»
«I see.» I looked at my watch.
«Gotta run?»
«Yep.»
«Let’s hang out sometime. What about after class?»
«We’ll see.»
He smiled mysteriously – was it disappointment? I couldn’t tell – gave a wave and headed unhurriedly in the opposite direction. He walked with perfect calm, as if he was studying every grain of sand, pebble, leaf… It was beautiful to watch… David had a very kind face. I abruptly regretted that I’d answered him so rudely.
After class I went to Starbucks and got a cappuccino. It was already getting dark. On the way to my car, David appeared out of nowhere, suddenly reminding me that he’d wanted to hang out.
«Hey.»
«Oh, hi!»
«You already going home?»
«Yeah, guess so.»
«Aww, I was hoping to get something to drink. Wanna come along? You could finish your cappuccino.»
«Do you really think you should be drinking?»
«Well, I’ve never OD-ed on ice water.»
«M-hm.»
«There’s a bar near
