"𝙃𝙚𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙤𝙥𝙚

𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙧𝙚

𝙃𝙚𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙣𝙖𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜

𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙞𝙧𝙚"

-ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　⑅ˏ͛-

Mickey PoV

After I was oh, so rudely hung up on, I returned to class. Unfortunately, they had already moved on to another topic. But, fortunately, I knew it well enough to not be totally lost.

I already knew half of the stuff they taught in this class. Videography 202- a stupid name that made the class sound fancier than it was. Or maybe it sounded geeky...but it was a specialty class that only a few colleges in every other state offered, and Windsor was one of those colleges. It mainly focused on cameras, shots for videos and scenery, that kind of stuff. They even had one semester focused on facial features.

Despite knowing most of what the class had to offer, it occasionally gave me insight to stuff I wouldn't know without the class. I had bought the textbooks and read through them over the summer before enrolling to the college a year or so ago, and had the contents practically memorized. But still, written stuff was no match for an in-person teacher.

He spoke of the different muscles in the human face, and manipulation. Out of context, it was strange to hear him speak about how to effectively manipulate people into feeling what you wanted them to feel...how to tell when a person wanted to be emotionally manipulated versus when they were stubborn, and how to put in the effort to make sure every type was fooled.
But it made sense! Once you had the context, of course. That's all movies were, after all. Just manipulating the audience into experiencing emotions from the story playing out on the screen. Some people didn't really think of how much effort went into a movie. The script? Yes, it had to be well-written, but if none of the cast knows how to properly manipulate the audience, then the film will be a load of horse-shit.

I like my teacher.

The lessons have helped me out so much. Not just in film. Heheh.

The professor raised his voice, making the class focus back on him again.

Some project he assigned a week ago, just going over the details of it again, when it's due, all that sort of stuff.

We had to film the intro, climax, and the ending to a movie of our own design, minimum of 10 minutes long, and a maximum time of 30 minutes. It had to be short and sweet, and-- most importantly-- memorable.

I had shrugged the project off as something easy, something I could bull-crap last-minute. But I had gotten bored a few days ago and decided to start on it...which...it wasn't as easy as it looked. With only the intro, climax, and ending, the movie had to have some key moments and figures in it. It had to cut through the bull-crap of menial details and have the plot recognizable by the audience, which would be the class, in this case.

This project was actually one of the main reasons I was meeting up with Meeks after class. I needed someone else's opinion, as much as it pained me to admit it, and Randy had a good amount of film expertise stuck in his tiny little head. Almost as much as me. But not quite.

As soon as the professor finished going over the details of the project again, he dismissed us with a wave of his hand. Most of the students took their time leaving, some bunching up in little groups to discuss classwork and gossip. Some, like me, left as soon as the professor gave his goodbyes.

As he promised earlier, Randy was waiting right outside of the class, frowning to himself as he stared up at the bulletins on a hanging board.

"What are you looking at?" I asked with a matching frown, stepping out of the way of other students and joining him in his staring. I couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. There were advertisements for clubs, some job offers, extra credit volunteer positions...nothing new.

"Hm." Was all he said for a moment, reaching up a hand and tapping on one of the newer papers. The classic theater icons of a smiley and frowning pair of masks were displayed on the side of the paper, and the title read "The Oresteia- Cast List"

I hummed, narrowing my eyes at the small list of names and their characters, trying to look for whatever it was that caught Randy's eye

"Ohhhh. Sidney Prescott as Cassandra, huh?" I asked, putting a hand on Randy's shoulder "You, sir, are a stalker."

"What?" He snapped, turning to look away from the paper "I'm not a stalker! I just remembered Sidney mentioning auditioning for a play...I heard that the cast list was out, so I wanted to see who she got."

"Do you even know what the play is about?"

He shrugged "No. But I might go see it. Sidney wouldn't try out for a lame play, so it's gotta be at least bearable."

I scratched at the side of my face "Yeah, I guess you're right. You're still a freak, though. Anyway, let's focus on me, okay? You said you'd help."

Randy rolled his eyes "Yeah, yeah. You're so aggravating- you're still buying me lunch, right?"

"Now, hold on, I don't ever recall promising you something like that." I said, holding my hand up in the air to shut him up. We began walking out of the film building, Randy fiddling with the binder in his arms. He pulled out a piece of paper, squinting at it before handing it to me.

"Yeah, you did. Remember? You signed a contract."

I huffed, glancing at the paper. It was a loose leaf sheet of paper, still with the edges rippled from being ripped out of a spiral-bound notebook. On it were the words "I will buy Randall Meeks whatever he wants for lunch in exchange for his amazing and infinite movie wisdom. Signed, Mikey Alteri."

It was written in a red pen, the ink slightly smudged.

"Nice try, idiot, but you spelled my name wrong," I snorted, ripping the paper in half and tossing it in a trash can as we passed by it "I'm Mickey Altieri. Not 'Mikey'. M-i-c-k-e-y.... A-l-t-i-e-r-i. And I don't dot my i's with hearts, you bitch."

"Ooh, I was so close," Randy winced "I figured you were feminine enough."

"Yeah, just remember that for next time. I'll buy you a sandwich and a drink- nothing more." I said "Your budget is ten bucks."

He snapped his fingers and cheered loudly "Deal!"

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We had gotten a good amount of work done. Taking up an entire lunch table with the amount of scribbled-on papers, photos of memorable actors to use for examples, and some small books we had borrowed form a library, Randy took no shortcuts.

He had helped me brainstorm a plot idea, mainly taking inspiration from his own life and from the discussions used in out film theory class. A horror film. Not a slasher, but a horror.

Since I wouldn't be able to use filler material to make the audience experience discomfort, I would have to go big or go home. Utilize other resourced to give it that shock factor. I would need to have good actors, people who knew how to be creepy and psychologically disturbed.

Randy also added in that the movie could break some of the well-known rules of horror movies, making the plot impossible to guess, and would be able to deliver several plot twists without being "too much".

"So how's (Y/N) doing?" He asked, making me look up from my glancing over a Shakespearean play. Why the fuck Randy got those types of books were beyond me, but he insisted they were necessary.

"Why do you want to know, creep?" I retorted, giving him a look "Got a little crush?"

"No, just wondering if you do."

I sat up straight, folding my arms and glaring at him from across the table "You shut your filthy mouth, Meeks. We're just friends."

"That's EXACTLY what the main man says about his female best friend...they've known each other since they were kids...next door neighbors, even...." Randy fluttered his eyes dramatically and held a hand over his chest "And then something changes. One night, during a party, maybe, the two accidentally get too close, share a kiss....despite apologies on both parties and the promise that it meant nothing...we all know that it did mean something. Which then sends the two soon-to-be-lovers into an inward spiral of emotions and denial before the third act, when something happens, forcing one- normally the man- to confess their feelings dramatically. There's rain! Arguing! Oh, the drama!" He raised his voice loudly, causing some passing students to look at him with the oh shit he's crazy look

"You're such an idiot, Randy," I said, closing the book and throwing it in his direction. It his the table with a thunk, but was distracting enough for Randy to stop his tirade "Speaking of parties, by the way, she's coming to the movie night."

"Ooh~" Randy cooed "The same movie night where there will be alcohol? Drunk guys, protective instincts kicking in....maybe a scary movie to push her onto you?" He grabbed his own arm dramatically, letting out a high-pitched sigh "Oh, Mickey, I'm so sorry, I just got SO scared...hold me close?" He asked in a falsetto voice "And then the close proximity makes the two of you get closer...and closer...the booze will start blurring your judgement, and BAM!" He slammed his fist down on the table "Romance! The spiral begins!"

"I'm going to kick your ass, shut up." I threatened, reaching forward and snatching the front of Randy's shirt, pulling him over the table closer to me.

"Ooh, kinky, it that what you're into?" Randy asked with a wiggle of his brows, seeming undisturbed that our faces were mere inches away from each other "A little BDSM~?"

I groaned, letting go of his shirt and holding my hand up in the air, blocking Randy's dumb face from my view "Every day you act more and more like a little bitch, boy. I'm going to slam your head into a table one day and make you even uglier."

"Good luck with that! If I'm uglier, then no girls will want me, so I'll just have to hang around you and....(Y/N) more..." Randy took a sip of his soda, grinning.

I stood up, grabbing all of my stuff and piling it into my arms "Screw you, I'm leaving. Thanks for your help, I guess."

"Awh, come on!" Randy cried as I started walking away "Fine, then, be bitter! Just know that I'll have a front row seat to act two of your fucking 'friendship' movie tonight! Remember that!"