The Higher We Soar

3. Mr. Brightside

(beta-reader of this chapter was the most wonderful @Julcia_404)

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Just like that, we talked. We talked and we somehow couldn't stop.

We talked at the table, we talked on our way to get more drinks, we talked even if the music was getting too loud, or with too many people around. It felt oddly refreshing, this easy exchange of our words, as if we'd stumbled upon something crucial that had been missing all along.

Unexpectedly, from a mere intern with a very limited knowledge, Maddox changed into a vibrant enthusiast brimming with insights about, well, everything. I was quite astonished that his mind turned out to be a treasure trove of opinions on absolutely anything that could come to your mind. He wasn't shy about posing challenging questions, sparking amazement, amusement, and even shock with his perspectives. But at the same time, he could listen to you so passionately, looking straight at you, hanging on to your every single word with such fervor and fascination that you never wanted to stop talking, for mere fear of disappointing him.

And he really was a bona fide movie buff through and through.

I was surprised by his taste, because it felt like the absolute opposite of what I expected. Decked out in a sleek, trendy shirt with an intricate pattern, and always wearing that bright smile, he didn't strike me as someone who would even know the first thing about film noir. Yet, to my astonishment, he was a walking encyclopedia when it came to this genre. Not my thing, but I tried to keep up with him, anyway.

Sunset Boulevard, he kept saying with a smile, the world is one big Sunset Boulevard.*

It was hard to disagree with that.

And maybe it was just the alcohol loosening my mind and his tongue, but as he delved into discussions about those movies, it became abundantly clear that he wasn't just putting on a show. His excitement was real.

On the surface, an intelligible lie; underneath, the unintelligible truth.*

There was a genuine passion in his voice, a sincerity that couldn't be feigned. It was as if he lived and breathed every frame, every plot twist, as though nothing else mattered but the stories unfolding on the silver screen. Love and Death. Memento. The Unbearable...

"...Lightness of Being?" I repeated, a little amused. "Oh yes, it oddly fits you."

"Excuse me?" he huffed, feigning offense, "I don't like that implication! I can simply appreciate good cinematography and storytelling, that's all!"

"Well, if you don't like that comparison, just know you also give off major Ferris Bueller's Day Off vibes," I teased, unable to contain my laughter, "So, if I were you, I'd opt for the former."

"Can you believe it, Soph?" he exclaimed, flopping onto the sofa with exaggerated flair, his hands dropping dramatically to his sides. "Who do you take me for? You think I don't take anything seriously, right? And who's been catching up on a lot during this month, huh? I can name every piece of equipment in the live room now! Hell, in the entire studio! They let me touch things now!"

"So... you're at the level of any other intern at the very beginning of their internship," I took a sip of my drink. "Congratulations."

"But it's not just that, I-" the intern clicked his tongue, attempting a serious expression that was betrayed by a spark in his eyes, "Sophie, help me defend my honor here!"

"Gladly!" the producer chimed in as she playfully tapped my knee. "This guy is something else! If you don't work much with interns, so you're missing out. I don't know how I managed without him before..."