Life Through Lenses (My CW Short Story)

Note: I'm not sure if I like this. It strays a lot from my original idea, but it should be fine... Tell me what you think/how to fix it/what to cut or add. Originally, I planned for his father (in a drunk rage) to destory his video equipment, and for his sister to give him 1 surviving disk with a touching father/son moment on it, but that didn't happen.

Well, I finally finished my CW Short story, which isn't that very short (9 pages, single spaced). Let me know what you think, if you have any thoughts at all:
Samantha R. Johnson
Life Through Lenses
If this were a film, I would start it with an aerial shot over my city. Not because my city is particularly homey or beautiful… I actually kind of hate my hometown. To many bars and not enough places for me and my friends to just hang out and shoot some good footage for our summer film projects. We’ll make-do though. We have every summer since the 8th grade when my Mom gave me my first camcorder.
That was before the accident though. I try not to dwell on it –loosing my Mom. I mean, just because she died and Dad started drinking and now my sister, Becca, is going to a college in the fall that is a million miles away… I’m not bitter, really. I’m morbidly glad that something so traumatic has happened in my life. I can use it to fuel gut-wrenching films in my future as an award-winning director.
“Riley! Ben is here!” Becca’s voice carried up the stairs.
It was the second week of vacation and after a school year of planning our last movie with Becca before she moved for college, we were ready to start filming.
“Let me grab my camera,” I called back. “We’ll go to the old Mill and start there. You’ve both got your scripts right?”
Becca surprised me, leaning in the doorway of my bedroom, “Riley…I know you’re excited about this being my last summer at home before college and everything, but…”
“Don’t you dare say that you don’t want to be in my movie. You are my starlet. You have been my starlet in all five of my movies. No way am I going to not feature you in this one.”
She sighed, “No offence, but you’re movies are kind of shit. I mean, Ben can’t even really act. Neither can I.”
“Shut up and stop ruining my summer,” I sighed. I swung my camera bag over my shoulder. “C’mon, the mill isn’t going to wait all summer for us.”
It was just getting dark when Becca and I got back home. I was sort of relieved to see that Dad’s truck wasn’t parked in the garage. It meant he was probably getting drunk somewhere, and he wouldn’t hassle me about finding “a real job” and to stop wasting my summer on my silly “shit films”. He didn’t seem to mind Becca’s part in my movies though. Probably because she’s had her future in the bag practically since birth. The fact that she got a full 4-year ride to college probably helps too…oh, and that she’s managed to hold down a part-time job for the past three years.
“We got some really good shots today, Beck. I can just tell this is going to be the best summer ever.”
“I don’t need to voice how big of a nerd you are,” Becca pulled open the fridge. I watched her push past the rows of beer for a lone can of cola near the back.
“You like doing this just as much as I do,” I scoffed at her. She shrugged, opening the can with a crack.
“It’s OK. I don’t really know how available I’m going to be though. Martin has extended my hours quite a bit this summer. I’m almost full-time now.”
And if this were a movie, we would do a montage of all of the heinous things Martin Kurt is –both as my sister’s boss and as her boyfriend. I would probably omit all of the sex scenes though. I’d like to think that my sister is still a virgin, even though the noises I sometimes hear through the walls tell me differently.
“Maybe you should look into getting a job, Riley? I could talk to Marty about hiring you and we could wait tables together. It would be fun!”
“Oh yes…having food thrown at and up on me sounds like a real blast.” I scoffed. “All those recovering drunks must leave excellent tips.”
“C’mon…if you got a job you could start saving up for school, maybe buy some new video equipment. Didn’t you say you wanted to get some new editing software for your computer?”
“Shouldn’t I be getting this lecture from Dad?”
“I’m not lecturing you,” Becca took a drink from her soda. “I just think you’re old enough now that you should start thinking about your future.”
“I think about my future every day. Trust me, I’m just like you. I can’t wait to get out of this hellhole little town and away from--”
“Away from what?” The door had banged open and my Dad carried a paper-wrapped bottle of booze under his arm, his arms laden with plastic sacks filled with a sundry of groceries. Becca moved to take some of them out of his hands and set to putting them away. “You kids do anything productive today?”
“Nothing you would call productive, Daddy. We just worked a little bit on Riley’s new project.” Becca could get away with being slightly cheeky with Dad. If I had tried to talk to him in that tone –even jokingly, he probably would have back-handed me.
“You’re doing that crap again? Christ boy, can’t you find anything better to do?” The bottle from under his arm clunked as he set it down on the counter.
This was my father, Jeff Butters. Fifty-one years old, bitter and cynical. There wasn’t a supportive bone in his body for his artistically gifted son. Maybe it’s because of the way he was raised, maybe it’s because of the way we lost Mom, I don’t really know. I do know though, that I remember Dad being a lot happier when Mom was around. He hassled me a lot less when she was there to support me.
I ignored his comment and changed the subject, “Is it okay if Ben comes over tonight?”
“I suppose so,” was his gruff reply.
I stood, feeling a little useless by the island-counter in the center of the kitchen while Dad and Becca put the groceries away.
“Well…I better go call Ben,” I excused myself, stepping back out of the kitchen. “G’ night.” I picked up my camera bag, slinging it over my shoulder. “Oh –Becca, remember, if it’s raining tomorrow I want to get the shots from inside the diner with Ben. Can you ask Martin if it’s OK?”
“Sure, I’ll ask.”
As I walked away, I heard Dad open his fat mouth.
“Why do you encourage him? It just gets his hopes up that he’s actually got a chance with that shit.”
I ignored the stab in my chest, and ran up the stairs before I could hear more.
“Ben, do you ever feel like your parents hate you?”
We had just finished doing some shots in the diner. It had been a month since we had started the project. Dad had been home a lot lately, opting to drink in front of the television rather then at the bar. Basically this meant a daily nagging about how I wasted my time and why couldn’t I be more like Becca and get a real job?
“No, not really. Why? Is your Dad still being an asshole?”
“I guess I just don’t get why it’s such a big deal to him what I do in my spare time. I mean, what the hell? So what I’m not earning some extra cash, or worrying about college after senior year.”
“Hmm…whatever,” Ben shrugged. “Oh! I can’t hang out tonight. I have a thing.”
“A thing?” I asked, “Since when do you have things that I’m not a part of?”
“Ooh, jealous much? Don’t worry about it. My Mom is making me go out with Betsy Collins. She doesn’t believe me when I tell her I have no interest in dating girls.” Ben rolled his eyes.
While I had my struggles trying to get my Dad to lay off about my interests and past times, Ben had his own problems. He hadn’t ever formally come out to his parents, but he had informed them that he wasn’t interested in dating girls. His mother thought that there was something horribly wrong with him, or that he was just bitterly shy. Thus, she had begun to set him up on dates with the prettiest girls she could find that she could talk into doing so. Ben went along with it, mostly because it meant a free movie and dinner at his parent’s expense.
“Sounds like a blast. You want me to tag along? Maybe she’d pass the word of confirmation to you gayness to your Mom.”
“No, that’s OK. Besides, if Mom thinks you’re gay, she won’t let me come over anymore.”
“Scary,” I looked up as Becca dropped our respective plates of chicken fried steak and potatoes in front of us, rather unceremoniously
“Riley, I have to quit the project,” She sighed. “Marty has me working totally heinous shifts the next couple of weeks. I’m not going to have the time.”
“What are you talking about? We’ve already shot over half of it!”
“Sorry Bro, but I can’t help you. Find yourself a new leading lady.” She shook her head, reverting back into Super Waitress. . “Can I get you guys anything else?”
Ben was completely unfazed by the news, “Could I get some pie-of-the-day? With some soft-serve vanilla ice cream?”
“Sure thing,” She nodded and walked away without a second glance at me.
“Shit!” My fingers pulled easily through my hair. “We have to scrap the whole thing! We don’t have time to start another full film, not if we want to be done before the summer ends.”
“Well…why don’t we just piece something together with what we’ve got so far?”
“Because there isn’t a story with what we’ve got so far, Ben. With what we’ve got, all you see is bad acting and a pissy red-head with a holier-then-thou attitude.”
“…I’m a bad actor?” Ben shoved his food around on his plate. “Jeez, Riley. You could have at least broken it to me a little more gentle. Cripes. If I’m such a horrible—”
“I never said you were horrible.”
“—then why did you keep casting me?”
“Because you’re my best friend, that’s why.” I scoffed, mixing together my potatoes and gravy on my plate.
“Oh, well then…”
“Look –this isn’t about your poor acting, Ben. This is about my cow-sister ruining our long-standing tradition.”
“What did you just call me?” Becca was back with Ben’s peach-pie. I noticed she placed it down next to him a little more gently then she had our dinners.
“I didn’t call you anything,” I denied. “Jeez, you could be nice to us. We’re paying customers, you know.”
“Yes, paying customers, not tipping ones.”
“Oh, so if I started tipping you, you wouldn’t quit the movie.”
“How can you call it a ‘movie’, Riley? It’s me and Ben in a link-up of stupid dialogue, in inconsistent settings, with one of us dying a disturbing and lame death at the end.”
“I never said I was script-writer, Becca.”
“Look, maybe…maybe you should just forget about the film this summer. Got a job and save for college.” She pulled a paper from her pocket. “I got you an application for the diner. Please, at least think about it?” She flattened out the application next to me, and I looked at it in disgust.
“Why would I want to work here?”
“Because Marty and I guarantee you a job here,” Becca crossed her arms. “Excuse me, I need to get back to my other tables.”
Ben waited until she had walked way before taking the application, “You gonna fill it out?”
“No,” I shook my head. “That would be like giving in.”
“Maybe it’s not a bad idea, Riley.” Ben shrugged. “We could work on a smaller project, just the two of us...”
“We need more friends,” I mused. “Why don’t we have more friends?”
“Well, because I’m the town homo and you’re the weird kid with the video camera,” Ben shrugged. “I think we might intimidate people.”
“…Right. We should have thought about the consequences of our interests beforehand.”
“Glad to see you’re finally giving up on the whole faux-director thing,” Dad clapped me on the shoulder after my first shift at the diner, a week later. I was trying my hand scrubbing the smell of burgers and French fries off of my skin at the kitchen sink, but I wasn’t having much luck.
“I didn’t give up on it, Dad. I’m just doing this to get you and Becca off my back. Ben and I are just working on something else since Becca ditched us.” I turned off the water, and dried off my hands and arms with a dishtowel. “I brought home some dinner if you’re interested.”
Dad looked confused, “If your sister isn’t in your movie, what are you working on? All you’ve got is Ben.”
“Jeez Dad, could you make me sound any more pathetic?”
“That’s not what I’m saying, Riley. We’re both fully aware that you’re a little lacking in the friends department. Who’re you coercing into being in one of your hack-films?”
“We’re doing a short film, it’s about ten minutes long. It’s something Ben wrote. We’re still looking for some actors. Right now, we’re deciding where we want to film it. We were hoping we could get Jack Hansen’s permission to film out behind his house.”
“Jack Hansen? You don’t want to film in his back yard; lotta snakes. Why don’t you film in the woods behind the Mill?”
“There’s a clearing in Mr. Hansen’s woods that I really like, that looks out over the creek he has. It fits our setting better.” I was mildly surprised at the interest Dad was taking in my project. This wasn’t like him, and was actually kind of scary in a way.
“Hrmph,” He shrugged, going for the fridge to grab his first beer of the evening. “Whatever floats your boat, I guess. Just so long as you’re not filling all of your time with this nonsense anymore.”
I held back my sigh, “Well, I better go call Ben. He was going to scope out some actors for us, so I better go and see if he found anyone interesting.”
I disappeared up the stairs as quickly as I could before Dad could say anything more to me.
“Ben, I don’t get why you want to find two new actors. I mean, why can’t you just play your part?”
“Because, you said it yourself, Riley, I’m a crap actor.”
“What makes you think that these guys would be any better?”
We were sitting on a bench in the park, watching the crowd. Ben’s eyes kept straying towards a couple of guys playing Frisbee with a Labrador. Mine kept straying the opposite direction at a game of soccer, mostly eyeing the goalie; a tall girl with her hair pulled back in a pony tail through her ball-cap.
“I don’t know. I think it could be cool if we could make some new friends though, you know?” Ben pulled his eyes away from the Frisbee players to look at me. “Don’t you think so?”
“I don’t know. I like this idea, I think we could do something with it, but…I dunno, man. Finding two guys willing to stage a coming-out story for us? Even for ten minutes…I just don’t know.”
“Well…you know, we could always just do it ourselves; the two of us.”
“If I’m in it, who’s going to hold the camera?”
“We could use the tripod, and we could do multiple takes for different angles.”
“That sounds like a lot of editing work,” I shook my head. “Plus, it’s not just about doing it in different angles, Ben. What about moving shots?”
“Oh…I dunno. Maybe we could talk Becca into helping us? I don’t think she’d mind helping if she didn’t have to be filmed.”
“Do I have to kiss you?” I asked.
“Christ, Riley!”
“Well!” I shrugged. “You’re the one who wrote the script. You never actually showed it to me, you know. You just kind of told me what it was about.”
“You don’t have to,” He rolled his eyes. “Christ. Why would I want to kiss you anyway?”
I let his question fall and instead turned back to look at the soccer game. But my mind wasn’t on the game, it was on my camera, sitting at my feet. I could just see how well the two of us would fit on the screen. Our conversation was movie-magic. Just two guys, one gay and one straight, trying to understand the world in the others eyes.
It dawned on me that Ben might have a crush on me. I slid a glance his way, but he had gone back to watching the guys playing with the dog. We had been friends since kindergarten, and I had never really looked at Ben in a sexual light, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t done so to me. I guess I could say that I loved him…like my brother or something. I didn’t really have any more interest in kissing him then I did Becca.
“Why do you keep staring at them?” I finally asked, having watched along with him for a few minutes.
“I’m trying to decide if they’re a couple or if they’re just friends or something. The dog seems to belong to the blonde guy, but there’s something about the way they act with each other.” Ben tilted his head to the side.
“What?” I raised an eyebrow. “Whatever, man. I’ll talk to Becca about being our cameraman…woman…person. I gotta get to work. I’ll see you tonight?”
“Yeah,” He nodded. He didn’t look at me as I walked away, still watching the guys with the dog.
Another three weeks later, only two left to the summer, we finished the film. I hadn’t got it edited yet, but with Becca’s help on the camera, we had loads of good footage. Not just of the film, but of just our summer in general. I liked to think that the more that I filmed, the greater of a montage I would be able to create out of it later. Maybe none of it made sense now, but perhaps one day it would all mesh together into a neat little package.
“Finally finished your film, huh?” Dad was leaning against the counter when I walked in from work. I fished the change and dollar bills from my pockets that I had earned in tips for the afternoon, and nodded.
“Yeah, I just got a bit of editing to do.”
“So, what’s it about?”
“Uh…” I realized Dad had never asked me what my movies were about. He had never even seen one of them, which I found to be a little odd all of a sudden. “Well…Ben wrote the script. He would probably do a better job at explaining the whole thing then I would.”
“It’s a ten minute movie, right? How hard can it be to explain?”
“Well…err, basically it’s these two guys who are best friends,” I started. “And uh…the Ben’s character decides to come clean with my character about errr…”
Now, my Dad has never really been outwardly homophobic or anything. But I’m fairly certain that he isn’t going to be thrilled that his son was taking part in a film about homosexual teenagers. I also don’t think he would be particularly keen to find out that I’d been sleeping in close quarters with what he would probably fondly term a ‘queer’ for the past two and half a months. Not that he had anything to worry about –I’m as straight as the day is long, but parents have this uncanny ability to jump to conclusion.
“—and keep in mind that this is totally fiction,” I let out of a nervous laugh. “But he comes out to his friend that he’s gay—” I watched Dad’s face for a sign of emotion, but there wasn’t really one. He just continued to sip his beer.
“Uh huh…” He probed. “And? That’s the whole story?”
“Well, no…See, after Ben’s character tells my character that he’s, you know, gay, my character tell’s Ben’s character that he’s…gay too.”
“Uh huh.”
“And, so…I guess, they sort of get together.”
“This isn’t like a porn or anything is it?”
“No!” I was a little perturbed by the eerie acceptance.
“And this is just fiction right? You and Ben are just friends.”
“Well yeah! Jeez, Dad!”
“Well, the kid does spend almost every night here. I figured I should ask, given the content of your film.”
“It’s not like there’s anything dirty in it!” I protested.
“Uh huh.”
“There isn’t! There isn’t even kissing or anything!”
“Well, I suppose that’s a welcome relief. You’ll have to show it to me when you get it edited.” Dad leaned over to set the now empty beer can on the floor, crushing it under his heel with a creaking crack.
“Uh…okay.” I nodded. “I guess so.”
I wasn’t sure if I should be glad that Dad was taking an interest or if I should be a little worried. If he was taking an interest, there might be some kind of ulterior motive, Then again, I could just be being paranoid.
Two days later (and 10 left in the countdown for my senior year of high school, 8 in the countdown for Becca leaving for college), Becca, Ben, Dad and I sat down on the couch to watch the final film. Having Dad there was odd. He had never shown any interest whatsoever in my movies before, and why he would want to see this film was even odder.
“Well, uh…this is it.” Usually when we debuted the films we had worked on, I would feign a preachy speech, thanking Becca and Ben for their help at another great summer, but it dawned me on that this summer hadn’t been that spectacular. Becca had deserted me as my starlet, I had to act in one of my own movies –and play a gay guy at that. Dad had started drinking at home rather then in the bar, and Becca was still going to leave me in eight days to go and further her education, two states away.
I set the DVD in the disc tray and pushed it back into place. The player whirled to life, and I sat down on the couch between Dad and Becca, picking up the remote, selecting the “play” button on the front menu.
The movie was good. Probably better then our original plan, actually. Ben was a good writer, and I was a good director. We were both mediocre actors, but two out of three wasn’t to shabby. The movie ended with the two of us leaning towards each other as if to kiss before a still-frame and then a rolling of the credits. The smile on my face was hard to hide, and I bit my lip as hit stop, returning to the main menu.
“So?” I asked.
“Damn,” Ben leaned on his elbow. “I am a shit actor.”
“Shut up, you were both very good.” Becca put an arm around each of our shoulders, pulling us in for a hug. “I’m glad I could help. It’s seriously one of your best, Riley. I’m proud of you.”
I turned to Dad, who was sipping another beer, still kind of staring at the television.
“Dad?”
“Hmm? Oh, it was OK, I guess. If you’re into that kind of thing.”
“You didn’t like it.” I don’t know why this came as a surprise to me. I felt as though I should explain that this wasn’t the type of movie I typically filmed. Explain something to make him see that this was actually good. He shrugged.
“Oh, I liked it fine.”
I furrowed my eyebrows. I wanted to ask him why he suddenly cared. I had been making movies since the eighth grade, but he had never bothered to see any of them. I wanted to know why he never seemed to give a damn anymore. But I didn’t ask. Maybe because I was scared to know the answers, maybe because I knew that we would then argue about Mom. I got up from the couch, and removed the DVD from the player, placing it carefully back in the case, keeping my mouth shut.
Eight days later, Becca packed up her car. Dad had already said his goodbyes to her before heading to work. She was going alone, and I was kind of scared for her, but I knew it would be silly for me to go along with her, even just to spend a few more hours with her.
“You are such a girl,” she laughed at me, closing the back of her small SUV. “I am going to college, Riley. It’s not like I’m going off to war and there is a possibility I won’t come back or something. I’ll be home at Thanksgiving.”
“I know,” I kicked one of her back tires.
“I’ll miss you too,” She moved to wrap her arms around me, but I pushed her away. “Riley, c’mon. What’s this really about?”
“You’re leaving me alone with him. You could have gone to any college you wanted around here, but you chose the one furthest away.” We were both fully aware that the “him” I was referring to was Dad. Drunken old Dad. “There are three colleges within fifty miles of home, Becca, and you could have applied to any of them, but you didn’t.”
“No,” She shook her head. “I didn’t.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I don’t even know why I had opened my mouth. I could have played the part of the eager younger brother, glad to be rid of his sister. But it was to late now. I could make the socially acceptable jokes about visiting and keeping an eye out for hot co-eds for me, but I couldn’t now. It was too late.
“Well, you should get going.” I shoved my hands into my pockets.
“I don’t want to leave with you mad at me, Riley.”
“I’m not mad at you,” I sighed. “I’m irritated with you, and I feel let down by you, but…I’m not mad.”
“Look, I’m thought a long time about going to college closer to home, but I’m sick of being here, Riley. I need to move on, even just temporarily. You’re not the only person I’m leaving behind.”
“I doubt that leaving Martin is much of a loss, Beck.” I scoffed.
“You may not like him, but he’s always been really nice to me. And don’t forget that he’s your boss.”
“Just because he’s my boss, doesn’t mean I have to like him.” Becca sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. I watched her breath deeply for a minute, before I sighed too. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop being an ass.” I gave her a short hug. “Really, you should be going. Traffic is going to be hell if you don’t get moving soon.”
“I’ll call when I get there.” She assured me.
“K,” I nodded. I stepped back away from her, wanting to put some space in between us. I wanted her to leave just as much as I wanted her to stay. Talking to her had become hard all of a sudden. We had said to much, and yet nothing at all.
“Well…I better go,” She opened the drivers side door, and slid into the seat. I took another step back, as she pulled the door shut, and rolled down the window. The engine roared to life, and she pulled on her seatbelt, but didn’t throw it into drive yet. “Hey, Riley?”
“Yeah?” I asked. I took a step towards the vehicle.
“You’re not really mad at me anymore, are you?”
I shrugged, “No, I’m not mad at you anymore.”
“—Cause, I’m going like a thousand miles away from home, and if I think you’re still mad at me, I’m kind of going to feel like shit, and I’ll probably do crummy in school, and then I’ll flunk out.”
“Well in that case, yes I am totally pissed at you.” I stepped up to the truck, and leaned up to press a kiss to her cheek. “You’re fine, Becca. Have fun, make friends, and don’t forget about home.”
She reached up to brush the tears away from her eyes, “Shit, look what you did. I’m going now before I turn into a fucking fountain or something.” She reached down to shift into reverse.
“Bye, Becca.” I hoped to god that I wasn’t starting to tear up either. I shoved my hands back into my pockets and watched her back out of the driveway. I stood on the sidewalk, watching Becca’s back-bumper disappear towards the Interstate. Once she had vanished completely, it still took me a few moments to actually get back into the house. Reaching up, I felt he wet-spots on my face. Shit. Well, at least Becca hadn’t seen.