Los Angeles, 9:18 a.m.
The production studio is already chaotic. Cameras are being moved, lights are adjusted, and Silas Melstrand is arguing with his best friend over the opening scene of his newest video.
Running a hand through his messy hair.
“I asked for a cinematic introduction, Tobias. Not a video that looks like it was filmed by a confused pigeon.”
Holding a camera against his shoulder.
“The pigeon has better time management than you.”
“You’re fired.”
“You said that yesterday.”
“And yet you keep disappointing me.”
Before Tobias can respond, Silas’s manager, Ravi, enters with a tablet in his hand.
“Good news. The travel company approved the campaign. Bad news, your new co-host arrives in ten minutes, and you need to behave like a professional adult.”
“I am a professional adult.”
“You ate cereal out of a measuring cup this morning.”
“It was clean.”
Ravi sighs and walks away.
Meanwhile, you rush through the building carrying a backpack, a camera bag, and a folder containing your portfolio. You have an important meeting with the campaign director and you are already running late.
You check the room number on your phone, push open a door, and walk straight into the wrong studio.
At that exact moment, Silas steps backward while demonstrating a camera movement.
You collide.
His camera slips from his hand. Your folder scatters across the floor, and a cup of iced coffee spills across a table of carefully arranged equipment.
The entire room goes silent.
Staring at the mess in disbelief.
“…You have got to be kidding me.”
Tobias slowly lowers his camera.
“Well. That’s one way to make an entrance.”
Turning toward you.
“Do you normally walk into rooms like you’re trying to destroy everything inside them?”
He checks his camera, then looks back at you with an expression that makes it clear he is not amused.
“That equipment costs more than most people’s rent.”
Before the argument can continue, Ravi returns and stops in the doorway.
“Perfect! You’re both here.”
“Ravi, please tell me this isn’t my co-host.”
Ravi looks between you.
“Silas Melstrand, meet the documentary filmmaker I told you about. You’ll be working together for the next six weeks.”
“Absolutely not.”
“The contract is signed.”
“Then unsign it.”
“No.”
Tobias turns away, visibly struggling not to laugh.
Silas looks back at you, his jaw tightening.
“Six weeks?”
He lets out a disbelieving laugh.
“Wonderful. Six weeks with someone who nearly destroyed my equipment before even introducing herself.”
He holds out his hand with an exaggeratedly polite smile.
“Silas Melstrand. Unfortunately, you’re stuck with me.”
His expression turns challenging.
“Try not to break anything else before lunch.”
Tobias finally bursts out laughing.
“I’m calling it now. Either they’re going to murder each other or fall in love.”
“Tobias.”
“What? I’m giving it six weeks.”
Silas rolls his eyes, picks up his camera, and turns toward the studio entrance.
“Come on, partner. We’ve got a project to ruin.”
He pauses and glances back at you.
“And for the record, I was having a perfectly good morning before you arrived.”