Short Story - Romcom

rum calm, the lights dim and the audience goes quiet as the curtains open on the music starts for the premiere. I look ahead from the corner of my eye to see how he's doing. Not well. Popcorn is going from bucket to mouth on autopilot. Jane, he whispers. This film could destroy our careers as writers in Hollywood. So what? I answer, I'm only writing scripts until I can break into a waitressing. He laughs a little at my joke on. Then his eyes go back to the screen, on his hand to the popcorn. Maybe he's right. I think maybe this will be the last screenplay either of us ever writes. I mentally fasten my seat belt. This could be a bumpy night. Ed and I have known of each other for a while. He does mostly spy thrillers with plots so complicated you have to see the film twice to understand it. I write family Sar Gers with people losing the love of their lives, only to find them again in the last 10 minutes of the film, just before one of them dies. When a studio suggested we try writing together, it sounded interesting, but not a wrong calm. I tell him I don't do banter. It must be something serious. Ed notes. I agree. All that gender war jokey dialogue between the romantic characters is awful. So the studio rents us a house near the beach for two weeks, fills it with food and drink, and we set up our laptops opposite each other. We sit there on the first morning waiting. I haven't idea, for we say at the same time. Then both stop. You first. I say, Okay, he agrees. Which annoys me. I have this idea for a sigh. If I detective story Very Bogart. Very film noir, but set in another galaxy a murder in a high security prison colony. Bring Special Agent Logan Fist to the planet. Creaking. I interrupt It. Sounds like a fast food chicken restaurant run by Jed I Nights. He looks hurt. I thought it would be fun to try something new. What? Your idea, then? Okay. Famous classical pianist Anton drops key. Here's a beautiful young woman playing a piano at a train station on falls in love With I stop. Ed's head is on his keyboard and he's fake snoring. Oh, I'm sorry. He says, I must have dropped off ski. Let me guess they lose each other. But he finds her again in the last 10 minutes of the film while taking part in an international piano competition where he's one of the judges. Um, I right, I feel hurt. Well, yes, but he's also got a brain tumor and is dying. You didn't get that genius. We glare a teach other over our screens. I'll work on the veranda, I say. Have fun with Special Agent Fist over the next 10 days, we made no progress on a joint script. One morning we try mixing our stories, but this is all. I managed to write. Keys to the heart. Special Agent Fist travels to the planet creaking, only to find that his long lost love Vera stepped ants has Bean, imprisoned by commander, drops key. Only by winning a pan galactic piano competition can he hope to save. While Ed produces the lock down, Anton drops key evil spy master for the Karekin Empire Forces the beautiful pianist Vera Step tents to steal the plans for a time machine from Special Agent Fist can fist rescue the plans on drear er before the universe is destroyed. That evening, we drink too much on start writing imaginary film reviews. However many films you see in 2021 make sure none of them is keys to the heart Suggest said the lock down does for love stories what Jaws did for swimming in the Ocean, I propose. But then, probably thanks to the alcohol, something happens that night. The Brill is gone, and in only two days we managed to produce a script to send to the studio, were surprised when the bosses love it on and production starts. But the rial test of a film is always the first night reviews and so completely terrified. We sit through the film premiere off Lock Down Your Heart. The next morning, I wake up early. The audience enjoyed themselves last night, but what do the reviews say? I pull out my mobile phone, and I'm about to read The Review by Harrison Whittle, film critic for The Washington Times. When it rings, read the reviews for me. End bags. I can't do it myself. I skim the article on Di Can't resist teasing ed. Mm, I say slowly. On the positive side, he loves the actors. Well, that's good. What's on the negative side? Let's see, however, the performance of Boris to POV as Anton drops key is I sneeze. Hold on a second. I have to get a tissue. I get one on, blow my nose loudly for about two minutes. Where waas I? The performance of Boris took off is, is what screams ed is extra ordinary. How does he mean that? Asks Ed in a voice so pathetic. I take pity on read him the whole article. Whittle loves the film, loves the stars on and most of all, loves the writing. It's brought the classic romcom formula into the 21st century, he says. How could two writers best known for cheesy thrillers on DMiller dramas right? Something so sophisticated and witty? He wonders. You just need enough wine and some of your own romcom, I think to myself. Ed is now dancing around the kitchen and singing That's enough! I shout through the house. I hang up the phone. Aunt, bring me some tea. We can look at the rest together. Embed. Oh yes, you read that right? Ed was dancing around my kitchen. As always, he had bean too lazy to come speak to me on then. Maybe a little bit of romcom, he asks as he sets the breakfast tray on the bed. I suppose so. I answer, but no banter, all right?