Cameras rolled, capturing the trapeze four artists in flight as they performed. They whirled and spun high in the circus tent, far above the crew and spellbound audience of extras.
Matthew Cole admired their performance, and shuddered at the very thought of being up that high. The moment the last performer rolled off the net and hit the ground,
right on cue, a roaring applause jarred him.
“Cut,” the middle-aged male director boomed over the loud speakers. “That’s a wrap and a print. Everybody can go home now, we’re done for the day. See ya bright and early in the morning.”
The extras let out a collective sigh of relief and dutifully filed out of the tent.
If it hadn't been for the presence of Tyler Martin, the assistant director responsible for taking care of the extras, the incredible boredom of this gig would have been unbearable.
And there he was Tyler Martin standing next to the entrance talking to one of the female staff members.
Matthew slowed as he passed them to allow himself a few seconds to soak in the subject of his fascination.
Be still my beating heart.
