These characters belong to Aaron Sorkin and the masterpiece that is the 2006 television series Studio 60 On The Sunset Strip. I am not making any profit from this except for a little writing practice.
This one comes from Breaking News, where Simon says "I still think you and Matt are both as dumb as a sack of doorknobs but I'm glad that you're at least speaking again."
Matt took a seat gingerly on the right-most chair at the bottom of the stadium seats for the audience in the theatre instead of where he and Danny and Cal normally sat with the other department heads. Lucy and Darius filed in beside him and Suzanne, clearly having expected him to sit in the middle, shuffled down a dozen seats to sit in the row behind Matt.
Matt gripped his script pages in one hand, probably with a legal pad on top of them and a pen hooked over one of the papers. The legal pad was very Matthew Albie.
But on the other hand, Matt clutched a Red Bull can.
It wasn't totally unusual to see the writer drinking the beverage. And not totally to see him with it at a rehearsal. But without a tennis ball? Something was wrong.
Of course, Cal sort of expected something to be wrong, given how thin the packet was. Sure, it was only Tuesday and there were only four writers, two of whom were fairly new to the business, but still. Matthew Albie was notorious for overachieving. Having packets forty-seven sketches long and dress rehearsals that were eighteen minutes fat was normal for him.
This was very unlike him.
Cal sat down a couple of seats away from Matt, trying to still be in the middle with the other heads and a couple of the actors, but discretely sit with the writing group. It wouldn't look so bad if there were more staff writers in the team to fill out the scaffold. Maybe that was all it was.
But then Cal saw Harriet.
She walked in with Sam and Jeannie on either side of her, the three women huddled in what appeared to be a deep conversation. Jeannie seemed incensed. Harriet was trying to quiet her. Samantha ushered them into a seat on the first row of chairs. Harriet took the first seat, right by the railing, not even looking up from her gesturing hands. Sam, on the other hand, kept peaking up like she was looking for someone. Given the direction, Cal would guess Matthew.
Something had happened. Something not good.
That would explain Matthew's sullen hunch. And how dejected he'd looked on Friday, his expression utterly crestfallen before he isolated himself in his office during the dress rehearsal.
Cal found it intriguing that Harriet appeared just as disconsolate. Typically, when relationships ended - like Simon and that girl, or Tommy and Paula, and Lucy and whoever the scum was that broke her heart - one party was at least a little more happy with the situation than the other. Sure, Cal only really ever saw Harriet's side of the whole pantomime. But even so, she was sometimes pleased or proud, although more often she was dispirited and listless. Cal thought it was a little odd that neither of them seemed to be better off than the other.
They both had dark circles under their eyes. Matt was keeping his eyes lowered and Harriet's skin was grey like she hadn't been eating well.
"Alright, everybody," Danny clapped his hands together as he ran in, getting everyone's attention. He wasn't totally clear on why Danny appeared so dishevelled, his hair a mess, his cheeks red, his collar crumpled, spread flat on one side and tucked under his jacket on the other side, but he suspected it had something to do with Jordan and the fact that Danny hadn't stopped smiling since he'd run down from the roof and left Cal confused.
He was glad they were together. Cal liked Jordan and Danny deserved to be happy. While Cal was under no illusion that Danny would be so preoccupied he hadn't told Matt, if the older man was busy being excited and in love he'd be less firm with his punishment for the loose snake thst cost them a fortune.
"Let's do it. We'll start with Thai Therapist, most of that set should be the same as always. Whenever you're ready, Sam."
Through the corner of his eye, Cal watched Matt prick up, sitting straighter but leaning on the rail behind him, sitting sort of crooked with his leg hitched up on the chair. It was probably a comfortable thing, but Cal had to wonder if it was also a bit of a performance for Danny.
Danny nodded along as Samantha and Alex riffed on stage, standing instead of lounging, in jeans rather than a swimsuit. Cal took notes of how the cameras should be angled, jotting down the fact that Sam's chaise was a big piece and needed to be moved down hallway A because it didn't fit down the others.
"Timing-wise," Cal leant over to Danny, who sat near to the writers but not with them. "We've got the three stages that we can switch to, but Thai Therapist has a lot of big set pieces. I think our best bet is to go from that set to Metric Conversion. We could do that in a similar set."
"And if that gets cut?" Danny asked.
"Which it will," Andy chimed in from the row behind them. Cal chuckled under his breath. Dylan was really coming into his own with that sketch and with a couple of others, too. But Andy was right. It wasn't polished enough yet. Matt would get it there, everyone knew that. But it seemed like he wasn't trying too hard to perfect it yet. Instead, he was writing a lot of old characters, ones they knew worked.
Flicking through the packet, Cal realised a lot of what Matt was writing was old Harriet characters. Enduring ones, sure. But Matt seemed to be more worried about getting Harriet's sketches just right instead of taking a risk with a new idea from Dylan or even Alex.
"That would make the next easiest thing Nic Cage."
"No," Matt piped up from his spot. "It's too similar. Luce, you had an idea for Singing Teacher, right?"
The girl shuffled in her seat proudly. "That should definitely work with this same set."
"Think you can have a draft by this afternoon?" Matt asked, sipping from the silver can when Lucy nodded at him.
Cal watched her laptop screen turn on as the blonde started working right away as Matt sunk back into his hunched position. He felt himself grinning. Cal wasn't sure about the new guy, Darius, but Lucy, Suzanne, Dylan, everyone on their crew, had this intense respect for Matthew Albie and were constantly trying to earn his respect in return, working hard to do the man proud. Matt deserved that.
Cal couldn't help but wonder if Matthew appreciated people looking up to him like that. Or if it added unnecessary pressure.
Knowing Matt, though, he'd be completely oblivious until someone mentioned they were trying to protect his reputation or they looked up to him.
He was all arrogance and superiority to mask his crippling insecurities until someone genuinely complimented him and Matt became this blushing ball of gratefulness, waving off the compliment as though he thought it was undeserved.
Tom leant forward to catch Matt's attention. "I can do my Jack White impression with Harry."
Cal didn't catch what Matt said in reply because he was busy watching Harriet.
She had stiffened.
But Cal wasn't sure if that was at the mention of the White Stripes or something earlier. Singing Teacher, perhaps?
The woman was normally vibrant and energetic and back before the hiatus, she'd been chattering happily almost constantly. In fact, she was almost always talking and smiling and generally ensuring everyone was having a good time.
There were a couple of times over the years when she hadn't behaved that way, a break up with Matt or jetlag after a promotional tour dampening her spirits. But this was something new. Different. Tired.
Cal couldn't remember ever seeing Harriet Hayes actively pull her hair over her cheek to hide her face or pull at the fabric of her clothes, looking very much like she was trying to hide.
"Whenever you're ready, Harriet," Danny coaxed the woman onto the stage.
Cal watched her demeanour change, something in her shifting as she took on her role. Harriet's whole face transformed into a wide smile and she projected her voice proudly. But the paper in he'd hand shook a little, the only indicator that she was nervous for some reason.
Cal frowned.
He looked over at the row below where Matthew was sitting. Nothing gave the crew more joy than observing Matt and Harriet trying to rent their feelings got each other. Matt would interrupt her to give a note. Anyone else and he'd be polite and wait and make them run the whole sketch again. Harry would interrupt him in the process. And Danny would glance at Andy to make sure he was jotting down the comedic bits for a new sketch.
Cal, Tom, Sam, all of the crew that knew the couple had a pool going to see when Harriet and Matt would get back together. They'd all lost and it was only Dylan and Ricky left in the pot. Even though Tahoe had abandoned the studio, his twenty buck bet that they'd never get back together, which Cal had thought was a fairly horrible thing for an old friend to suggest, had a genuine chance of winning.
Especially if the two continued in this path.
Cal cast his gaze over to Matthew and found bone of the joy that was always such a pleasure to watch on his face. It may have been argued that it had something to do with needing better ratings this week, or being preoccupied with rewriting a sketch or getting down an idea. But it seemed to Cal as though it had more to do Harriet.
She must have looked up from her scripted lines and seen that he was very carefully not watching her because Harriet's eyes didn't wander. Her smile was waivering, her voice quivering. But her drooping eyelids and stating eyes were stagnant in Matt's direction as though she was begging him to make eye contact with her.
Matt didn't look up.
He was picking at the metal tab at the mouth of the can, catching it beneath his fingernail and flicking it to make a soft tinging sound.
Cal knew all about distracting yourself on purpose and getting distracted accidentally. More importantly, he knew Matthew and that he normally loved rehearsals and how low the stakes were.
With no notes from Matt, constructive or critical and slumped shoulders, Harriet returned to her seat in the corner, the girls around her rubbing her shoulder and knee in comfort.
Cal almost laughed.
As he was trying to read Sam's lips to see if she said more than the typical 'that was great,' Cal saw the man in his peripheral vision shift. Matthew sat up straighter. He put the can down on the chair in the little triangle his propped-up leg had made on the chair beside him, and cal watched as Matt made himself taller so he could see over a couple of heads and view Harriet.
Jeannie got up and did her thing, all the while Matthew Albie's eyes were caught on Harriet's profile from across the room. Whether she could feel his gaze or not, Harriet kept her eyes on Jeannie.
Cal rolled his eyes. A moment ago, Harriet was pale and unblinking and clearly desperate to have his eyes meet hers. And now Matt was waiting for the same.
So something had definitely happened.
This could not be good for the show. Matt needed to be excited about the things he was writing, not slumped in the corner, blase. Harriet, their main actor, needed to be able to get unbiased notes from the head writer. The rest of the cast needed to feel comfortable, with the warm embrace of the Studio 60 family not a cold shoulder.
Briefly, Cal wondered if Danny knew what had happened, if he had already berated Matt and urged him to fix it. If he saw the heartbreaking irony that it seemed Matt and Danny's romantic lives teetered on a piece of playground equipment, Danny feeling the high of his new relationship. Matt looking like he'd sunk through the floor and was feeling like dirt. Or lower.
It was probably nothing to worry about, given Matt and Harriet history. Matt had probably said something off colour to try and make her laugh and Harriet had snapped before he could explain.
But why then the clear inability to talk to each other? They'd never been so painfully distant before, as far as Cal had witnessed.
It was probably Matt and Harriet being overly dramatic and forgetting that they could actually talk to each other. The pair of them got that way sometimes.
It was like everyone else on the planet knew they were made for each other.
In fact, to hear Matt or Harriet talk about the other could be challenging in a sickeningly sweet sort of way like you were full from the meal and cramming in another bite of dessert. Every word would ooze with affection for, and pride in, the other. There would be impassioned monologues about how great the other person was that could last hours if the person who had asked wasn't careful.
Cal had seen it happen.
In fact, defending Matthew had been the only time Cal had ever known Harriet to yell.
And Matt could prattle off a hundred facts about Harriet as though she was the most precious exhibit in the gallery, never even pausing for a breath.
It was clear they thought the world of each other.
But when the two of them were in the same room and their pride or their pain was getting the better of them, it was as though they lost all capacity to communicate.
If only they could eavesdrop on one of those moments they rambled about each other like a high schooler with a crush.
Or better yet, talk to each other.
Cal squinted in confusion, trying to deduce where Jeannie was going as she stepped off the stage while Danny was talking to the other heads about sewing a new costume for Commedia Dell'arte. Instead of treading over to her seat, Jeannie made her way to where the writers were sitting.
As she walked, she stretched out a hand and pat Matt on the shoulder twice as though to bolster him before she rounded the corner. A moment later, having walked around the back of the theatre, she took up the empty seat beside Harriet and rubbed her back.
Cal almost smiled,wondering what would have happened if Matt and Harriet had been the last to take a seat and if he and Danny could organise it so that they'd have to sit beside each other next time. After all, it looked like they were craving the comfort of each other and settling for Jeannie and scraps of eye contact. All they needed was to be trapped on a roof together like Danny and Jordan had been.
Or locked in a dressing room. Could he get Suzanne to lock them in Matt's office until they talked? He didn't think so, but it wouldn't be the worst idea.
Cal pencilled a mental reminder that if things hadn't improved, purely for the sake of the show, not even because he wanted those two kids to finally work it out and be happy, to talk to Matt, or maybe Danny first, about getting Matt and Harriet to talk to each other.
Because this silence? It wasn't nice. And it wasn't healthy. And, for Matt and Harriet who were always laughing or playfully bickering or teasing each other with well-meaning barbs, it wasn't normal.
