His fingers couldn't stop fighting with each other. The clock struck 1, yet he was the only one present in the room. Except for Ben of course, who knew about the importance of punctuality, with eyes buried in his laptop as he typed away on some essay. A quick glance informed Sam nothing about its contents, and a question asked did little to help. He flipped to a page on the notebook comfortably positioned on his jittering legs, and recited a to-do list to himself

"One, two, three-" He went, counting the days on a self-made calendar from two differently coloured pens, "Fourteen... Scene 5 would take three days... Scene 6... three more... Editing..." His fingers did mental gymnastics, computing result after result, "And then VFX, and final polish, and... submission... three plus three, plus..." He eyed the clock, watching its hand make its slow crawl back to 12, "Equals... fifteen. One off..." Then, he raised his voice. "Where are they? Why are they always late!"

The classroom, after suffering supposed water damage along the walls and ceilings, found itself pawned off to four ambitious students. It had rows of chairs which wasted space rather than adding to it, and the little podium up front was more disruptive than one could think.

"They get dismissed later than us. Calm down dude."

"We're one day off schedule! And if they keep coming late we won't submit this film in time!"

Ben sighed. He had heard these words from him millions of times before, "Sam. We'll make it, okay?" He made eye contact. "Stop looking at your stupid calendar and just take a deep breath man. It's as useless as screaming for help when you're buried underground."

"What? Stop speaking into metaphors, no one ever gets it."

"I'm texting Sonia." Ben's words were empty. Pulling out a second-hand phone, he texted her. The case wrapped around it displayed artwork from a game he had never played before "Where are you? You're late."

"I'm on my way." She replied back.

He switched off his phone and laid back, rubbing against the cushion oddly. He readjusted his position multiple times, unable to get comfortable regardless of how he sat.

"How was your weekend?" Ben asked, eyes finally pulled away from the screen.

"Tsk! Same old, same old." He chewed on his pen, spinning gears in his head.

"Ok. I watched a movie."

"Mm."

With ants in his pants, he stretches his arms and legs, then sits back down. The fidgeting came to a gradual stop as an idiotic smile creeps over. He avoids eye contact with no one, and chuckles to himself.

"Are you thinking about her again?" Ben sounded disappointed.

"What?" He complained.

"She's not your type, and you're not her type. Trust me."

"Right, because you know so much about her?"

"Come on man."

She entered first, and the world froze. She wore a shirt that ended right above her navel in a small knot, and a skirt that danced along her things. Her hair had a streak of pink at the second third of her fringe, screaming for his attention.

"Hi." He said.

"Hi!" Her voice pierced with pure light.

Soon after, the jagged one entered. Sonia. The skies would turn grey upon sight of her. And her grey jacket camouflages her right in. He paid as much attention to her appearance as she did.

"You girls are late again!" Sam reprimanded them.

"We're dismissed late," Sonia fired. It may have been a genuine explanation but her tone suggested otherwise.

"Ok!" Ben clapped his hands together, "What's the plan for today Sam?"

"Scene 5. Let's go. If we're fast, we can finish this scene in two days and make the submission just on time. So chop-chop. Sonia, how much have you edited so far?" He asked.

"A lot of the footage has the tripod in the frame, so I wasn't able to edit much of it." All she had was criticisms of his hard work. Would it kill for her to offer a compliment on occasion? Furthermore, she willfully misunderstood his directorial intent.

"For the last time. It adds atmosphere! And it's actually the foreshadowing for the plot twist at the end, remember? That the whole thing was a film set all along?"

"The plot twist isn't effective. Firstly, it comes out of nowhere and devalues the entire story. Secondly, there is no build-up leading to it except the tripod, and most viewers would think it's an amateur mistake rather than a detail anyway, And what atmosphere could you possibly create with a tripod leg?"

"It begins..." Ben uttered to himself.

"A good atmosphere? I'm the director, okay. Just use the shots with the tripod in the frame. Even if I wanted to change it, I can't. We're already one day behind schedule and if we reshoot all those scenes we will never submit it on time." Sam continued.

"Then maybe film scenes without the tripod in frame to begin with."

"You- whatever, scene five, let's go. Honey, go put on the costume."

"Ok!" Honey smiled. At least one person listened.

"And can you please rehearse your lines while you put it on?" Sonia added.

"Why?"

"You always take five minutes to get into 'the zone' and you always get your lines wrong. This is the main reason why we're so behind time."

"So you're saying I'm a bad actress?"

"Don't listen to her, you're a great actress."

"Thanks Sam.", Honey replied.

Ben mumbled to himself in the corner, disengaged with everything.

"Ben, go set up equipment."

"Also..." Sonia continued nonetheless, outlining her critique of everything from his cinematography to lighting and even the story itself. Sam rolled his eyes, deciding that she would shut up faster if he simply gave no reaction. He stood corrected. "And I know you can't rent the lighting stuff from the school but we can try to use our phone flashlights at the very least, or I don't know, something? Every other scene is like pitch black."

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"Because it's a horror."

"That's not what horror means! Stop using the genre to excuse amatuer mistakes!"

"Amatuer? You-"

"Ryan broke up with me!" Honey screamed all of a sudden. He repressed his instinct to smile. Everyone stopped and looked at her. Pin-drop silence. She watched each of them for a moment before continuing "Yeah, I don't even know why, it happened so suddenly I'm still trying to process it." Seeing her suffer made him suffer too.

"Hey, it's okay, he wasn't a good guy anyway, you dodged a bullet." His head was filled with confetti and party balloons.

"Can we put a pin in this?" Sonia raised her voice. "We have a film to shoot."

"Shut up!" Sam fired back. "Go on, ignore her."

"We were in the middle of flirting then all of a sudden he ran off and said he wanted to break up."

"Oh no...", Sam placed a hand on her shoulder, it was shoved away. She rested her head on her knees.

"He was a bad influence. You two weren't compatible.."

'Hey! Leave her alone!" Sam defended, "You never even had a boyfriend."

"Cause I'm lesbian?"

"You never had a girlfriend either!"

"Both of you shut up!" Ben shouted.

"Yeah, and I just feel so...", She paused, letting out a small whine. He wanted to extract the pain from her and implant it on himself. He would gladly suffer for her.

"Finish your sentence.", Ben said, groaning.

"I don't know how to express it in words, I'm just..."

"Finish your sentence! Stop doing that trailing off thing!"

"What thing?" Sam asked. Why was Ben causing trouble too?

"You keep stopping mid-sentence so everyone has to sit in your silence for the next minute."

"Ben! She's trying to speak! Why are you judging her?" Sam fired back.

"She isn't- She just wants us to stare at her in silence and feel bad, like she always does!", Ben continued, his hand motions increased in aggression.

"What's the matter with you? Why are you so angry today?"

"I'm so sad...", Honey cleared her throat.

"Shh, it's okay.", Sam continued.

"Guys, can we please talk about this later? It has been ten minutes already!" Sonia rolled her eyes.

"Shut up!" Sam warned her.

Sonia threw her hands up in disappointment.

"Mm!" Ben huffed. Sam noticed the smoke puffing out of his fists.

"And I feel so heartbroken...", Honey continued.

"Didn't he smoke, or vape?" Sonia said.

"Back. Off." Sam stood his ground. He balled fists.

"I'm trying to help!"

"Well, don't!"

The war continued. Blocking the onslaught of attacks the best he could, whilst doing his best to get Sonia to shut up once and for all. Now, his mind thought of the film, and how no one had moved an inch since they arrived, all sitting in a circle fighting and arguing with one another. But defending Honey's fragile self-esteem held higher priority.

"Shut up! All of you! Shut up! Just shut-", Ben screamed at the top of his lungs until his face turned bright red. "I am so sick of all of you, and and your stupid fights over nothing every single time we meet! I hate you, I hate every single one of you so much and I hope you all burn to death! I am done with this stupid club! How are you still together? How is this club still together? Why are all of you even in the same room? I am so sick and tired of trying to put out all the little fires because none of you can just shut up for one second! What is wrong with you, seriously? I-I-I-It's like w-we're on a raft in the middle of the ocean and all of you are arguing which way to row to shore! I would rather drown!"

"Huh? Stop speaking in metaphors, no one likes it when you do that.", Sonia raised an eyebrow.

He packed his bag hastily and stormed off, slamming the door as he left. The door unhinged from his sheer strength and fell flat to the floor, sending a gust of wind in their faces. For the remainder of that session, no one dared utter another word. No filming was done.

**

Off he went on his rusting bicycle down the familiar path he had gone on a million times towards Apple-Wood Childcare Center. All the adorable children were out and about on the playground, sliding down and climbing back up whilst another child slid down. The sand-pit suffered the damage of excavations for hidden treasure. The adults stood on the perimeters, vigilantly policing bad behaviour, shouting name after name as their caregivers arrived to pick them up.

"Joe Windsor! Joe, Windsor! Your brother is here to pick you up!"

The child ran out to him at top speed, grabbing his leg tightly. "Rawr..." He growled. Sam playfully walked back to his bicycle with the child still hooked onto his leg.

"I bit you! You now have the virus, and you are a zombie!"

"Rawr!" Sam responded, placing him on the bicycle. The child had to sit on his lap, and his head only slightly peaked above the handles. With an effortful push from his leg, they cycled their way back home.

They rode past the streets at lightning speed, and Joe stared ahead with his hands on the handles, pretending to be a top F1 racer. Everytime Sam turned the bike, he would imitate the breaks, imagining himself drifting through the racetrack. Sam played along, imitating the sound of the engine, which attracted a few strange looks from the public.

When they came close to home, they reverted back to the zombie roars, and ran around the front yard until they cowered to the afternoon sun. In a fit of carelessness, Joe bumped into a shelf, and the vase that perched on top wobbled. In cold sweat, Sam sprinted to rescue the artefact, carefully placing it on the ground. "Joe, be careful! Aunty Flower will kill you if you broke her vase!"

"Sorry."

"It costs thousands of dollars you know! And I'm not even talking about the vase, I'm talking about the flowers in it!"

"Sorry."

"It's okay. Go draw, I have work to do."

The child nodded, taking out his little workbook from his adorable school-bag and setting it on the floor. Sam sat a few inches beside him with his notebook in hand, and the two went into silent concentration.

Ben's sudden departure proved to be more disruptive than he could ever imagine, considering he was a part of the cast. He considered a complete rewrite of the film, but the reshooting required made it impossible to execute before the deadline. Sonia would advise him to give up on the project and simply upload it whenever it finished to the school website instead of the competition, but that would result in months of hard work going down the drain. The position of first place promised a prize of a thousand dollars, and he had no intentions of walking away with anything lesser.

His idol for his filmmaking ventures came from his Uncle overseas. An aspiring film director himself, he enchanted young Sam with the promises of six-figure salaries and international fame in the business of film. And for his birthday, he passed down his exquisite camera to Sam, which remains in use to this very day. It didn't bother him that the camera was considered irrelevant in today's time.

Killing two birds with one stone, he called Honey to come over. One, he could spend time with her alone, which he always looked forward to, and two, he would have a second opinion. She agreed swiftly, and he enlisted Joe's help to prepare a cup of lemonade for her.

**

"What time is it?" Honey finally arrived. The sun had already begun setting, and as rehearsed, Joe ran out with a cup of lemonade. Sam broke into a smile at the sight of her. She mopped a ball of sweat off her head and wiped it on her work uniform, a bright red shirt with a name tag pinned right above her chest. The girl worked part-time at a restaurant as a waitress as a way to cover her living finances, which he found highly respectable.

"Here you go!" Joe announced, passing her the cup they prepared together.

"Aw, thank you!" She crouched down and patted his head, taking a sip of the beverage. "Holy- that is good!" True to her name, Honey loved sweet beverages.

They sat on the couch, and Sam recited his idea of recruitment to her. Putting up flyers all over school for an audition, he wished to find a quick replacement for Ben, keeping the film on track for submission. This served as a last resort to his main plan of persuasion, hoping a calm discussion with Ben would convince him to return. He spent the rest of the day designing the poster, and summoned Honey to print copies of it at the library tomorrow.

It wasn't a long time before she dozed off. Slowly but surely, her head eventually tilted down onto his shoulder, and her legs shifted about, drawing attention to the length of her skirt. Sam tried his best to suppress his lust, focusing on finalising the design of the poster, but his eyes simply couldn't pull away.

A whiff of lavender could be extracted from her hair, and the boy wondered what shampoo she used. He was pleasantly reminded of the one time he got the rare chance to touch her hair, and it flustered him. Her head moved, letting out a soft grunt as she awoke, and Sam snapped out of it.

"What time is it?", She asked, mid-yawn.

"Uh... it's 6 p.m."

"And your parents still aren't home?"

"Well..." He shrugged his shoulders.

"I think it's time to head back... Bye Sam. I'll print the flyers."

"Thanks, and I can drive you home... so you can save money on the cab fare... or something, I don't know..."

"Aw! Sure! Ok! Let's go! What's the passcode on your bike lock?"

"Your birthday."

"What?"

"Nah, I'm kidding, it's 1234."

The girl got on the passenger seat, wrapping her arms around him. He could barely keep a straight face, wishing to turn around and hug her back. Joe sat in his usual spot in front, excited to race down the street again.

"Hey..." Honey asked. "How do you know where I live again?"

On the final portion of the journey, Sam slowed the bike down, cherishing the moment for as long as he could. He leaned back a little, trying to gain more physical contact with her. Unfortunately, he arrived at his destination five long minutes later, and he bid her farewell.

He wanted to spend a minute watching her enter her apartment safely, but Joe's uncivilised yawn begged to differ.