Chapter Two: The Full Blown Breakup

I stepped onto stage, alone. The cameras focused on the light above me, not on me. I climbed on top of the bunk bed and hung my head over the side. Bill and Marcia came in and painted fake blood on my chest and stomach. I smiled up at them when they stepped away. When they cleared off, the camera focused on the "killer." Michael Cohan was the ever knowing killer in this movie. He walked over to me and leaned over my body. I grabbed the collar of his shirt and flipped over, bringing him down to the floor. The director stepped out and yelled, "Cut!" the camera crew turned the cameras on pause and waited for their signal. Davis smiled at me, and frowned at Michael. "What is this?" he asked him, pulling at Michael' sweatpants. Michael slapped his forehead and ran off stage to change his pants. The director shook his hands, indicating a water break. I ran offstage and grabbed my bag from off the table. I pulled out my Mountain Dew and swallowed a few sips before I took a Tylenol. I was going to need it. Michael snuck up from behind me and put his hands over my eyes. "Michael?" I said grabbing his arm and twisting it. He dropped his arms and pulled his arm away. He wrapped his arms around my waist. "You're strong, hun." I laughed. "I should," I said, "to keep you at a safe distance." he laughed and looked at me with a serious look on his face. "You know I love you, right, Lanore?" I nodded my head. He swallowed. "I hated doing this to you, hun, but I've been seeing someone else." I pulled away from him and hot tears formed in my eyes. I turned away from him and tried to blink them away. I put my hands on the table and wiped the tears away. A few strays streamed down my cheek, and I was praying Michael didn't see them. To late.1

He grabbed my elbow, but I pushed him off. Bill barged in, and halfway walked out before I pushed past him and ran into Marcia' studio. Bill looked at Michael and punched him in the face. "You poor, un hearted man. She gave you everything she had and you did this to her, you poor man." He closed the door in Michael's face and followed me to Marcia's. Marcia was petting my hair when he walked in and hugged me. I rested my head on his shoulder. He pushed me away and looked me deep in the eyes. "You're stronger than this, Lanore. I know you are." I began crying again. "But it just isn't fair! I liked him so much, and he did this to me." He patted my head, and pushed me out the door. The director looked at my face, and then he looked at Michael coming with an embarrassed look on his face. He shook his head and patted me on the shoulder. "You still wanna go on with this?" he asked, glaring back at Michael, "you don't have to if you don't want to." I shook my head. "I'm fine." I climbed back on stage. "How bout we skip to the part where I kill him?" Dave nodded and pulled him to the window near the corner of the room. I yawned and stretched before the cameras began rolling. Michael walked into the room and put his suitcase on his nightstand. I flipped on the lamp on the table and looked at him through my bangs. Perfect emo look. He backed up as I came toward him. My fake scars and scratches reflected perfectly in the light. I pulled out my gun and cocked it back. Its full of blanks, so I won't really be shooting him. I squeezed the trigger and he fell to the ground. He was supposed to be unconscious now. I put away my gun back in the holster, and walked off stage. The camera crew cut the scene, and the director looked at Michael strangely. He was still lying on the ground. I shook my head and walked over and kicked him in the side. I looked down at my shoe. It was stained. Red. I looked down at him in shock and flipped him over. I actually shot him. He was actually hurt, I might have killed him. I dropped him and my hands flew to my mouth. The director came over to me with a grim look on his face. "That gun was full of blanks when I saw it last," I said, opening the barrel and five bullets fell to the floor. I dropped to my knees next to his body. The director smiled as he walked off stage and looked at his watch. "Well," he said, "time to go home, see you all tomorrow."2