The way Billy let time take its own course was by immersing himself in his respective films, without trying to sustain the fragility that seemed to cling to the traits of Ichabod. For some time now, it had been clear that what happened unfolded by chance, and time itself seemed to shine.
--I think that even when a person works for a long time and finds love in what they do, they are fortunate—at least until they lose it. Because time seems to change, and perhaps in ten years we may not like what we do very much. So I dedicate myself to enjoying what I do as much as I possibly can. —Cristina Ricci replied.
--Then we do everything we can and keep moving forward; that is the best way to continue, whether with failure or with success, rather than standing still and becoming trapped between our own interests. —Billy answered, playing along with Cristina, who at the tender age of twenty was a striking beauty in every feature. He had already felt her skin; it was fresh and delicate, something that deserved to be cherished and protected.
--For some time now,w I've been keeping track of you and your films, but I'm afraid that every day you break another measuring rod, and this role will give people a great deal to talk about. —Cristina whispered.
Both of them rested their heads on a small hill while the entire set moved with relative calm. It was their breakfast break, now less than an hour before they would begin filming again. The reason was that the previous day they had filmed intensely almost all night, well into the early morning hours, when it became difficult for some to endure the exhaustion. Because of that, breakfast had been arranged at ten in the morning. Cristina had awakened early and saw Billy writing his next three books, which were unlike anything else—a space opera that would give life to the series of James S. A. Corey. Now it was his way of setting the stage for the coming takes while at the same time expanding the level of his library, which already hovered around a total of twenty-five authors and two hundred science fiction books of the highest quality, surrounded by the classics written by authors who had died before 1909, when copyright had completely entered the public domain—something he used as a precise and considerable point of reference.
--So you think I have a gothic air about me. —Cristina asked.
--Not at all. I'm only saying that darker roles suit you well. I could help you with some of them, both animated and live-action. Just a simple suggestion: I want to make Lovecraft's works part of the world of cinema, at least for a time, and I would like you to be part of some of them. I'm thinking of two films and a series. You could be part of it and close it with a flourish. —Billy replied.
—So you think I'm what they call the gothic girl. —Cristina asked.
--Not at all. I think your acting works extremely well for these roles, and it's something I would like to see you explore even more. —Billy said calmly.
--In fact, I could accept it in two years. For now, I have so many roles that my head aches from so much work. Life can be difficult for some people who are completely trapped in failure itself. —Cristina said, settling into a quiet fear. That fear was not being enough—being judged for something one is not, and having to fight against that. Because of that, she always seemed to do the opposite of what people expected from her, and as time passed,d she tried not to retreat from it. She was also a little nervous because Billy was patience itself; he always liked to devote himself to long conversations about certain books or about the meaning of life, and that was strangely relaxing.
--It's a good film, a frightening one, but not the kind that dulls the minds of people—and I'm afraid that's something wonderful. I would like to make a horror film that does not descend into the superstition people now call demons. I want Lovecraft—where suspense gives life to the story, and where the pieces are minimal and simple. —Billy replied calmly. He seemed quietly pleased by the spirit of the idea, remembering those works and remembering that cinema needed movement, and that movement would never be suppressed or censored by any petty meddler, because cinema needed enough substance for the series between 2000 and 2010 to have art—to carry something of those older eras and those wonderful films that were never merely a simple journey.
—Yes, well, you're a very good salesman; now surely you'll have me in your claws. She laughed lightly, noticing how direct Billy was whenever he struck the exact point that convinced people to commit to their roles. And that, in truth, was the mark of great work, and work itself is marvelous when it settles into place.
--Have they already begun writing the script? —Cristina asked.
--In fact, they already have. —Billy replied. He was precise when it came to scripts; his skill depended on two paths. One was the writing itself, which could take nearly six months, sometimes even longer. Then there was production, which required time, and the producer selected the directors and offered a demanding contract from which no one could deviate or treat lightly.
—That's hell. —Cristina whispered, her soft cheeks smiling.
—With blond hair, you look younger. —Billy replied.
--They say blondes are more foolish, and therefore have fewer privileges, and I suppose now that must be true for me in a simple and obvious way. —Cristina answered with a playful tone.
--That's not true. I think it's perfectly fine for you to behave that way; you've already proven the range of your acting. —Billy replied, noticing that they were about to begin filming again. Those recordings lasted as long as they had to, and for Billy's unfortunate reflection, it now touched upon the strange and simple reality that being beautiful could sometimes be a mistake.
Now they were only trying to estimate how much she would have to walk. It was a curiosity that most of the time, Cristina Ricci's character always appeared traveling through small rooms, moving only within those spaces.
--Thousands of steps, or perhaps twenty steps. —Cristina whispered.
--Series must be handled with care. —Billy said.
For some time now, he had often lost himself in thought; it was the best way to create something. There were many directors, but some did not have the heart to make certain kinds of films, and others simply were never given the necessary opportunities to be part of such endeavors. That hurt deeply, because Billy wished for everything to be perfect, charming in its own way.
--Then I suppose today is a day entirely on horseback. It's a little cold. —Cristina whispered, preparing to play the beauty of Katrina, a woman made to be loved. And Billy could attest that atthis momentt she was the most beautiful woman without intention. It was a heart that fell silent.
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