“Not today”

766 words

This was supposed to be yesterday’s prompt. What I should have done was just posted the prompt with a blank post (get it?).

This had a lot of possibilities, but I chose to create a catch phrase out of it and dragged out the old trope of someone practicing lines in a mirror. I can live with that. If I were to continue the story, he’s probably make it to the studio just fine but end up on the cutting room floor.

The mirror was fogged from his hot shower. He stood before it for a moment, then wiped the condensation away with the palm of his hand. Dissatisfied with the streaky, opaque results, he took the crumpled washcloth from the counter and finished the job. He stared at himself. He’d been telling himself that bad lighting was causing the shadows under his eyes and the hollows in his cheeks, but, if that were the case, bad lighting was everywhere, including this bathroom. 

He patted his face dry, then reached for the box of under-eye patches. They were rubbery and slick, and he struggled to place them on the puffy skin beneath his eyes. His sister raves about the results, but what the hell does she know. She’s 24. She was convinced every ill-conceived cream and serum works, because after she takes it off, hey, 24-year-old skin. 

He glanced at the clock. He was very early, but that was okay. He told himself he wasn’t early because he was anxious. He was a professional. He was taking the time to wake his mind and body up before the 6 AM call, looking refreshed and ready to go. He calculated the time it would take to get to Burbank again in his head, though he had checked and double-checked the distance and traffic patterns two nights ago. About 30 minutes, and he’d planned on leaving an hour early. Plenty of time. In fact, maybe he should leave an hour and 15 minutes early instead of the hour like he’d planned. What if there’s a SIG alert? He wished he hadn’t needed to move to Alhambra. He would have liked to have stopped at Black Elephant for a coffee and maybe a scone. He supposed he could if he got there early enough, but it was far enough away from the studio that he couldn’t risk it.

Mel had been very clear about this job. “Get there, get there on time, do the work, and do it well,” she’d said on the phone. It was a small part. Scratch that—a very small part, and Mel had worked hard to get it. “I don’t want to hear you were late, didn’t know your lines, or looked like you’d been up all night.”

“I got it,” he said.

“Do you, Rafe?” she’d said, and Rafe had heard that tone before. In the early days, he could ignore it because he was in charge. But she held the reins now. “Because this is it, my boy. Quentin’s doing me a solid, here.”

“I do,” he said. “I really do. You don’t have to worry, Mel. I’ll be there with bells on.”

“I don’t give a shit about your bells, Rafe. But if you mess this one up—”

“Mel. I know. I get it.”

Mel grunted and hung up the phone. She never said a proper goodbye at the end of their conversations, they just ended. Like phone calls did in movies.

The mirror had fully cleared. He pressed his palms onto the counter and leaned toward his reflection. He smirked, popping one eyebrow skyward. 

“Not today,” he said. He liked that verison; it was a knowing smile, savoring the violence that would come next. It was very ‘90s action hero. Oooh. What if “not today” became a catch phrase? It wasn’t very original, but a lot of catch phrases weren’t exactly breaking new ground. “I’ll be back” isn’t really a catch phrase unless you could do a passable Austrian accent. He refocused in the mirror.

“Not. Today.” This version also had its charms. It was quiet, thoughtful, and contained a simmering rage bubbling beneath the calm demeanor. This version comes from a man with untold strength, one could snap a forearm in two with one hand. This version defends children and puppies, but his viciousness runs deep. Of course, the gold eye patches didn’t help the illusion. He peeled them off, the skin beneath them still decidedly puffy. Maybe he should have left them on longer. 

He had three lines, but this last one was at a pivotal point in the movie. This is when all hell breaks loose. Mel had talked Quentin into pulling a John Travolta and bringing Rafe in for those three lines, kind of a surprise cameo. In the film, they’d been referencing the “top guy” throughout the story, in hushed, awed, fearful references. And then when he finally shows up, it’s Rafe. Mel pitched it beautifully, even going as far as describing the audience’s reaction. “Everyone’s going to go crazy,” she’d said. “They’re going to love it.”