Zoe sank into one of the many empty red velvet seats lining the small theater. The heater enveloped the room in a cocoon of warmth as she leaned back, her fingers curled around her Coke and popcorn. A sudden click startled her, plunging the room into darkness. Her eyes, adjusting slowly, locked onto a small lit room several steps behind her.
The projectionist's booth bustled with activity; the sound of tin cans being shuffled echoing in the silence. Zoe had no illusions about who was causing the commotion. She took another sip of the sweet Coke, savoring its fizz on her tongue.
As the turning reel's whir filled the air, Zoe settled deeper into her seat. She pulled a small journal from her trench coat, its pages crisp and inviting. The opening credits began to roll, and she found herself wondering aloud, "No trailers or previews, huh?"
Her pen tapped rhythmically against her lips as she pondered her earlier notes. The thud of footsteps and the crunch of popcorn suddenly filled her ears. Zoe's gaze shot up, landing on the figure now occupying the seat next to her. Brian's bright red and white uniform seemed to glow in the silvery light of the screen.
"What are you doing here?" she hissed, gesturing towards the booth with her pen. "Aren't you supposed to be up there?"
"The projector can run itself," Brian replied, his eyes never leaving the screen. "I already lined up the cigarette burns."
Zoe's eyebrows were arched. "Cigarette burns?"
"The transmission cues. Where the reels are attached in editing to show scene transitions."
"Yeah, I know what cigarette burns are," Zoe huffed, a memory of her first internship flashing through her mind. "The little circle things."
Brian turned; surprise etched on his face. "You know what a cigarette burn is?"
"I work at a production company," Zoe shot back, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. "Of course I do."
"Then you'd know no one actually calls them that," Brian countered, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You watched that movie, right?"
Zoe's face flushed deeper. "How do you know what people call them? You ever try to work in a studio?"
Brian shrugged, his shoulders rising and falling in the dim light. "Tried once. Got offered a cleaning job a few years back, but the pay wasn't worth the long hours. I wanted to be a consultant."
"Consultant on what?"
"Filmmaking. I wanted to make movies, learned the ins and outs. Putting reels together. Editing." Brian paused to munch on his popcorn. "But theaters are the only places that'll hire me. They just need machine maintenance mostly."
Zoe leaned back, her eyes drifting towards the screen. "So you're just going to sit here and watch it with me?"
"I guess," Brian replied, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Plus, I have to make sure you don't cheat on our deal."
"And how exactly would I cheat?" Zoe challenged, her fingers tightening around her notebook.
"You could enjoy it, then claim later that you were faking it," Brian said, his gaze still fixed on the movie. "My sister says girls do that all the time."
Zoe's face burned as she sank deeper into her seat, her eyes now locked on the screen. The film began to unfold before them, its colorful images flickering like memories from another time. As the story progressed, Zoe found herself drawn in, her initial skepticism slowly giving way to curiosity.
/-/
The silver screen faded to black, the final scene of Sinbad and his crew sailing into the unknown lingering in Zoe's mind. She blinked, adjusting to the darkness, and turned to find Brian already on his feet.
"Okay, even if you didn't like the rest of the movie," he said, his voice animated, "you have to admit the fight with the many-armed swordsman was really cool!"
Zoe stood, stretching her arms overhead, her trench coat rustling with the movement. Before she could respond, Brian was already heading towards the projection room.
"Lights going on," he called out.
Zoe's hands flew to her eyes, but not fast enough. The sudden flood of light left her squinting and disoriented. "Could have at least counted down!" she grumbled.
"Sorry," Brian's apology floated down from above.
As the spots cleared from her vision, Zoe fixed him with a frustrated look. She held up her notebook triumphantly. "And guess what? I didn't like it."
"Come on!" Brian's arms spread wide in disbelief. "It's like the perfect movie. How could you not like it?"
"It was tacky," Zoe stated, her voice firm.
Brian's face fell. "I think you're caring too much about the effects."
"How couldn't I?" Zoe countered. "It's why I'm here. Everything looks choppy. Anything done with clay could be done with hand-drawn animation."
"Like Cool World?" Brian asked, a hint of challenge in his voice.
Zoe nodded, then caught herself. "No! Well, kind of. I don't see the point of it. It can be done with clay, but it could have been done with 2D animation. I don't think it's special just because of the clay doodles."
Brian's eyes lit up. "But that's why it's good! It doesn't matter if it looks tacky or bad. It's good because it has the clay. That's what makes it unique." He gestured excitedly. "Look, come in here!"
The door to the projectionist booth swung open with a creak. Zoe hesitated at the threshold, peering into the dusty room. As she stepped inside, a small cough escaped her lips.
Brian was already seated in a swiveling chair, carefully pulling the reel of film from the projector. He held it out to her. "Look!"
Zoe took the film gingerly between her fingers, studying the frames. Brian leaned in close, his presence a warm contrast to the cool celluloid. "Look between this frame and this frame," he said, pointing.
She squinted, noticing the subtle difference in the monster's arm position. Brian's fingers moved to another section of the reel. "And here."
Zoe saw the arm's full swing captured in a single frame. She looked back at Brian, eyebrow raised. "And?"
He scoffed, but his eyes were alight with passion. "In a single frame, practically invisible, the entire action of the arm shifting was made possible. A human being had to carefully move the entire clay figure a fraction of a centimeter for just a quarter of a second of film. Just so the creature could swing its sword once."
Zoe frowned, settling onto an empty spot on the table. She crossed her legs, resting her chin in her hand. "People in 2D animation do the same thing. They have to draw a frame over and over to get it right."
Brian waved dismissively. "It's not a competition. The two can't be compared. It's about the effort. Even if you don't like the movie, look at the set, the clothing, the effects. People gave their time and effort to make it."
Zoe eased herself onto an empty spot on the table, the wood creaking softly beneath her weight. She crossed her legs, the fabric of her trench coat rustling with the movement. Leaning forward, she propped her elbow on her knee, cupping her cheek in her palm. Her posture was a mix of casual and defensive, as if she were both relaxed and guarding herself.
"It wasn't a terrible film," she said, her voice softer than before. "I'm not saying they were lazy or anything, but it just wasn't that great to me."
As she spoke, her free hand absently played with the corner of her notebook, fingers tracing the worn edges. Her eyes, still adjusting to the dim light of the projection booth, flickered between Brian and the scattered film reels surrounding them.
Brian leaned back in his chair, the ancient leather creaking beneath him. His eyes, still bright with enthusiasm, met Zoe's. For a moment, the only sound was the soft whir of the cooling projector.
"Fair enough," he said finally, his voice softer than before. "But maybe there's more to it than just being 'great', you know?"
Zoe's brow furrowed slightly. She uncrossed her legs, leaning forward. "What do you mean?"
Brian's fingers drummed against the arm of his chair, a rhythmic counterpoint to his thoughts. "It's like... when you look at an old photograph. Maybe it's not technically perfect, maybe the colors have faded, but it captures something... a moment, a feeling."
He reached out, gently taking the film reel from Zoe's hands. As he held it up to the light, the images flickered to life once more.
"These old stop-motion films," he continued, "they're like that. They're not just movies. They're... I don't know, little pieces of magic. Each frame is someone's dream made real, even for just a second."
Zoe found herself leaning in, drawn by the passion in Brian's voice. She could see the reflections of the film dancing in his eyes.
"I get that," she said slowly, surprising herself. "It's like when I first started in production. Everything felt... possible."
A small smile tugged at the corner of Brian's mouth. "Exactly. It's not about being the best or the most advanced. It's about the heart behind it."
Zoe's gaze drifted back to the film reel, seeing it with new eyes. The imperfections she had noticed earlier now seemed less like flaws and more like... character.
"I still don't love it," she admitted, her voice quiet. "But I think... I think I understand it a little better now."
Brian nodded, carefully returning the reel to its canister. "That's all anyone can ask for, really. To be understood."
/-/
Zoe snapped her notebook shut, the sound echoing in the quiet theater. She slipped the pen into her pocket and tucked the notebook away, her hands seeking the familiar warmth of her coat pockets. The weight of the evening settled on her shoulders, exhaustion creeping in at the edges of her consciousness.
"So, I didn't like the movie, but I got enough research," she said, her voice tinged with a mix of satisfaction and fatigue.
Brian's response came from across the lobby as he shut down the popcorn machine, the lights behind the concession stand winking out one by one. "That's good. It's getting real late, and I have to close soon." He paused, then added, "You drove here, right?"
"Yeah?" Zoe replied, her brow furrowing slightly at the question.
"Good. Means I can close up here," Brian explained, relief evident in his tone.
Zoe turned towards the exit, but hesitated. "So, when are you going to show the next movie?" she asked, unable to keep a hint of curiosity from her voice.
Brian looked back at her, surprise flickering across his face. "I thought you didn't like the movie?"
Zoe scoffed, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. "Wussing out of the deal? You owe me a free ticket!"
Brian's lazy grin in response was interrupted by Zoe checking her phone. "4:35AM" she murmured, the late hour suddenly hitting her like a wave. The day's fatigue, coupled with her chronic sleep deprivation, began to take its toll.
"I have to go shut everything else down. You're good, right?" Brian called out, already moving towards the back of the theater.
Zoe nodded, managing a brief wave. "I'll call the theater later to ask about the showings and-" A yawn escaped her, cutting off her words. "Give me a schedule next time, 'k?"
With that, Zoe slipped out of the lobby, leaving Brian alone in the dimly lit space. His eyes lingered on the phone.
"It's not a landline," he reminded himself softly, gathering his bag of clothes. He snatched up the phone, tucking it away with his things before heading to the bathroom to change.
Brian crept up the stairs to the apartment he shared with Mina , his keys jingling softly as he unlocked the door. He eased inside, padding quietly into the kitchen, only to be startled by a sudden light.
"Where have you been?" Mina 's voice cut through the silence, sharp with worry and a hint of frustration.
Brian turned to see her standing in the living room, dressed in short shorts and a pink t-shirt, dark circles under her eyes. "Out," he replied curtly, glancing at the microwave clock. 5:00 AM. He winced internally.
"What were you even doing?" Mina pressed, stepping closer.
Brian set his bag on the counter, his eyes avoiding hers. "Had to take an extra shift at work. But look," he gestured vaguely towards his head, "you got a haircut?"
Mina 's brow furrowed. "You got a haircut at 5 in the morning?"
"It's complicated," Brian sighed. "But I'm back, and it's technically Saturday morning. So, relax, I can sleep in a bit."
Mina 's scoff was tinged with disbelief. "If you were with someone, it's okay."
Brian's face became a neutral mask. "I wasn't. I just took an extra shift. My boss, Mrs. Salvatori, cut my hair as a favor. The return favor was to do a midnight showing of some old movies, then I had to close."
Mina 's hands found her hips, her posture a mix of concern and exasperation. "You know, you can get in a bit of trouble every now and then. I got into some trouble back when I was your age."
"No, you didn't," Brian replied, not looking up as he unpacked his bag.
"But I would have if I could. That's what's important," Mina insisted.
Brian paused subtly before placing the last of his things on the counter. He slung the bag over his shoulder, his eyes lingering on the phone resting nearby.
"Listen," Mina 's tone softened slightly, "there's a company event. A picnic thing in the morning. It's early, so I don't know if you can swing it, but we're encouraged to bring family."
Brian's gaze flickered between the phone and Mina . After a moment's hesitation, he nodded. "Sure, I can make it."
"What's with the phone?" she asked, her voice a mixture of curiosity and concern.
Brian's response came with a slight shrug, his eyes not quite meeting hers. "It's the theater's. Mrs. Salvatori let me borrow it in case people call about the midnight showings."
Mina cocked her head to the side, a gesture reminiscent of their shared childhood. "There's going to be more?"
Brian nodded, a flicker of enthusiasm breaking through his reserved demeanor. "Yeah, there's a classic movie event, so people are calling in about it."
As Mina pressed the power button, the screen illuminated, revealing just one call in the past week. She chose not to comment, instead tucking that information away for later reflection. Her gaze drifted to the antique clock on the wall, its hands marking the passage of time with quiet persistence.
"You have about six hours before we have to take off, so get some sleep," she said, her tone softening. "I'll make breakfast." A pause, then a wry smile. "In like five hours."
Brian moved past her, the familiar scent of his cologne lingering in the air. Mina raised a fist, gently bopping him on the shoulder
Zoe stumbled into her apartment, exhaustion weighing heavily on her limbs. Her foot caught on something, sending her world spinning before she landed hard on her stomach, the impact jolting her awake. With shaky arms, she pushed herself up, scowling at the small paper that had caused her fall.
"Gramps," she muttered, recognizing the familiar handwriting. She turned the paper over, the word "invitation" scrawled in red ink. A frustrated huff escaped her lips as she kicked off her shoes and collapsed onto the couch.
Reaching for her notebook, Zoe flipped through pages of messy handwriting – tips, quotes, and small drawings of clay figures. Her eyes, heavy with fatigue, struggled to focus on the words. The kitchen microwave's glowing numbers caught her attention, reminding her that she should have been asleep hours ago.
Suddenly, a realization hit her. "Oh right. The company picnic." The word 'optional' floated through her mind as she burrowed deeper into the couch pillows.
A fleeting thought crossed her mind. "I wonder if I should call to ask about the showings," she mused aloud before quickly dismissing the idea. "It's 5 AM. The place has probably long since closed."
Her gaze drifted to the silent ceiling fan above. "Hope that guy didn't have anything to do in the morning," she murmured, thoughts of Brian and the theater lingering in her mind.
Brian stared into his coffee cup, willing the caffeine to erase the exhaustion etched on his face. Mina 's voice pierced through his fog, "Ppalli meogeo!"
He jolted awake, gulping down half the coffee and shoveling scrambled eggs into his mouth. Mina called from her room, her pink brush working through her long hair, "Are we taking my car or your bike?"
"How far is it?" Brian asked, his tired mind slowly processing the address Mina read out. After a moment of glazed consideration, he blinked back to awareness. "We can use my bike, but it looks like it's going to be cold. Bring a sweater or something!"
Mina 's thumbs-up appeared from behind her door as Brian finished eating. He quickly changed into jeans and a white button-up, then called out, "We gotta go!"
"Jamkkan siganeul jwo!" Mina cursed, causing Brian to flinch.
"Ppalli umjigigiman hamyeon doepnida!" he shouted back, downing the last of his coffee.
Grabbing his keys, Brian announced, "I'm going to be downstairs! Grab your helmet." He paused at Mina 's side of the table, finishing her coffee before snagging his blue jacket from the rack.
His eyes lingered on the phone on the countertop. After a moment's hesitation, he stuffed it into his jacket pocket before ducking out, helmet in hand.
/-/
Zoe's forehead rested against the steering wheel, quiet sobs echoing in the warmth of her car. The watch on her wrist mockingly displayed 11 AM. With a deep breath, she composed herself, checking her reflection. The makeup beneath her eyes did its job, masking the worst of her exhaustion.
Stepping out of the car, the cold wind nearly knocked her off balance. She trudged through the snow-covered park, her boots crunching with each step. The biting wind left her cheeks and nose rosy as she pulled her fluffy tan coat tighter around herself.
As she passed through the black wrought iron gate, a tacky hand-painted sign reading "Christmas Picnic Bash!" came into view. Despite her misery, Zoe couldn't help but crack a smile at its enthusiastic cheesiness.
After a brief, overly cheerful exchange with the woman at the check-in table, Zoe made her way past the accounting team, their chatter about money mixing with the clink of soda cans. She scanned the crowd, recognizing only a handful of faces at a covered picnic table.
Grace's flax blonde hair caught her attention. The woman waved her over, a sugar-dusted cookie in hand. "Good morning, Zoe! I didn't expect to see you so soon!"
Zoe mustered her best attempt at a smile, clutching her coffee for warmth. "Yeah, decided to swing by for a bit. Grease some palms and chat a bit, you know?" The exhaustion in her voice was palpable.
Grace's face fell into a concerned pout. "Are you alright? If you're feeling sick, you should have stayed home."
The familiar southern drawl of Wyatt's voice cut through Zoe's reverie. "So how's the research been going?"
Zoe sighed, her exhaustion evident in her voice. "It's boring. Painfully boring."
Wyatt winced sympathetically. "Can't be all bad."
Leaning her head on her hand, Zoe elaborated, "Most of the major stop motion stuff I've seen is a bit much for kids. And we can't make it too cartoony because then it looks like Aardman. I don't want to just copy another company; we need to have a specific style."
Wyatt clicked his tongue, nodding. "It's progress."
Zoe's eyes narrowed. "How?"
"Well," Wyatt explained, glancing at Grace, "before you weren't very keen on the idea. Now you just want it to be special. Like a personal stamp of ownership."
Grace turned to Zoe, surprise evident in her voice. "You didn't support the Claymation idea?"
Zoe's eyes darted to Wyatt before she clarified, "Not exactly. I wanted to go ahead with hand-drawn animation. One of our artists wanted to go with the Claymation route."
Grace tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Well, luckily I actually had a conversation earlier today with someone who has some experience in claymation and filmmaking. I was thinking about bringing them on to work on the project."
Zoe hummed in response, savoring her coffee. "Do you have someone in mind to train them?"
"Actually, Mina Park will be overseeing the training process," Grace replied between bites of her cookie.
Zoe paused, a note of surprise in her voice. "Oh."
"Is that a problem?" Grace asked.
"No, no, it's just usually I'm the one that trains the new hires," Zoe explained, trying to mask her disappointment.
Grace tilted her head. "Actually, Mina had made the suggestion that along with your research, we hire a consultant. She had someone in mind, and it was as simple as that. However, the two of you are going to be working together on research until the meeting with the animation studio."
"Is there any projection for how long that will take?" Zoe asked, trying to keep her voice neutral.
Wyatt chimed in, "I finished with the script yesterday, so we can produce a 24 episode season from that. We just need to secure a director and a company to produce the animation. Shouldn't take more than a month."
Zoe nodded along, only half-present in the conversation.
The wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it the last remnants of autumn's chill. Mina huddled deeper into her coat, her eyes fixed on the distant figure of Brian. He sat alone, back pressed against an old oak.
She watched as he nursed a Styrofoam cup, steam rising in delicate wisps that vanished into the crisp air. Mina 's fingers tightened around her own cup, the warmth seeping through her gloves.
"You good?" The words tumbled from her lips before she could stop them. Brian's eyes flickered up, surprise etching itself across his features before settling back into careful neutrality.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. "Just a bit tired."
Mina sank down beside him, the scent of peppermint and chocolate wafting between them.
"Maybe you should come chat with everyone for a bit," she suggested, her tone light but laced with concern. "Get acquainted before work."
Brian's response was a slight shake of the head, a whisper of movement. "I know Wyatt and you, and I kinda met Ashe. I think I'll be fine for now."
Mina 's eyebrow quirked. "You met Ashe from accounting?"
"Recognized her from one of the Christmas cards," Brian shrugged, his gaze distant. "Saw her in a convenience store a bit out near the coast."
"What were you doing out there?" she asked, curiosity coloring her words.
Brian's response was evasive, a non-answer wrapped in a tired smile. "Just out there for something. Don't worry."
Mina added a sprinkle of crushed candy cane to her cocoa, the sharp peppermint scent cutting through the air. She noticed Brian's slight grimace and felt a pang of nostalgia. Some things never changed.
"You've got to branch out a bit," she urged, leaning against him. The warmth of his body seeped through layers of fabric. "This is your first company Christmas party, and now that you're hired, you're going to be stuck going to these things until you bite the dust."
Brian turned to look at her, his tired eyes softening for a moment. "Give me a bit longer to let the caffeine seep in," he said, "and I'll come down and do something HR-worthy, okay?"
Mina smacked him lightly on the shoulder, a mix of exasperation and affection in the gesture. "You better not," she warned, rising to her feet. "And if I finish this and come back up here and you're still sitting here like a lost dog, I'm dumping the punch bowl on you."
As she walked away, Mina cast one last glance over her shoulder.
The crunch of boots on ice pierced the air, drawing Brian's attention. He glanced around, noting the clusters of employees hovering near the punchbowl, wallflowers at what had become an impromptu dance. The picnic had evolved into something far more lively than he'd anticipated.
Suddenly, his coffee cup began to tremble in his hand. A shrill digital ring emanated from his pocket, snapping him out of his reverie. With deliberate slowness, Brian reached into the inner lining of his blue coat, fishing out the vibrating phone.
The familiar number on the screen made his heart skip a beat. He stared at it for a moment, memories flickering through his mind like frames of an old film reel. Finally, he answered, his voice tinged with weariness.
"Little Hollywood Theater, how can I help you?"
The words had barely left his lips when a familiar voice boomed from behind him, causing him to jolt upright.
"Hello, I'd like to talk about someone catching a show without a ticket."
Brian's eyes widened in surprise as he whipped around, his hands gripping the wet grass. He found himself looking up at Zoe, her fuzzy coat wrapped tightly around her, a flip phone in her hand and a suspicious glare leveled at him.
"So," Zoe said, her British accent crisp in the cold air, "you liking the coffee?"
Brian's mind raced, trying to process the sudden turn of events. The phone in his hand suddenly felt like it weighed a ton. He clicked the end call button, his eyes never leaving Zoe's face.
"I... uh..." he stammered, struggling to find his footing both literally and figuratively. "It's... decent. For picnic coffee."
Zoe's eyebrow arched higher. "Interesting. And here I thought you might be more of a hot cocoa person, given your sister's preferences."
Brian's surprise deepened. "Did Mina tell you-."
"We work together," Zoe replied, her tone neutral but her eyes sharp. "She mentioned she had a brother although I didn't realize you were so...eccentric."
The pieces started falling into place in Brian's mind. The impromptu interview for a consultant position, Mina 's insistence on him attending the picnic, the sudden appearance of Zoe – it all connected.
"Look," he began, slowly standing up, brushing grass from his jeans. "I can explain-"
"Oh, I'm sure you can," Zoe cut him off, her voice a mix of amusement and irritation. "Perhaps you can start with why you've been such a weirdo."
Brian took a deep breath "It's... complicated," he said, echoing his words to Mina from earlier that morning.
Zoe's expression softened slightly, a hint of the curiosity he'd seen in the theater the night before peeking through. "Well, it seems you'll have a lot of time to explain, considering we'll be working together on this project."
Brian's eyebrows shot up. "We will?"
"Apparently so," Zoe nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Though I have to say, you really are a weirdo"
Brian couldn't help but chuckle, the tension breaking slightly. "Well, better to be weird and memorable than normal and forgettable."