With my left hand, I squeeze my stress ball, and with my right hand, I doodle on a blank page in my notepad. I’m hoping this distraction will leave me as calm as possible for my upcoming meeting with Ed.

I glance at my wristwatch. Five more minutes before I have to face him. I’m not looking forward to this meeting, but I know there’s no way I can get out of it.

My eyes leave my notepad and find my name certificate. “Wise one” is meant to be one of the meanings of Kayla. Pity I’ve missed out in the wise department. Obviously, Mum had chosen the wrong name.

If I were blessed with wisdom, I would know what to do, more to the point I wouldn’t have even gotten myself into the situation I’m in. I sigh and look at my scribbles.

Have I just doodled a penis and balls? I frown and stare at the shapes.

My door opens, and Ed breezes in to interrupt my thoughts. He has his mobile held against his right ear. It seems to be a permanent feature there.

Quickly, I turn the page. I don’t want Ed to see my art work.

“Got to go,” I hear him say.

Three minutes early, I see.

“Hi, Ed.” I try and inject enthusiasm into my voice.

“Have you done it?”

Straight to the point, no pleasantries, no small talk.

“Done what?” I stall. Of course I know what he’s referring to, but I want him to spell it out.

“If you haven’t decided which one you’re going to kill, I’ve decided for you.”

I hold my breath. I’m on the edge of my seat, and I feel as if I’m watching a thriller with me as the main character.

“You have?”

“You will need to get rid of Scott.”

I breathe out slowly. “Think before you speak,” I silently tell myself, but I can feel my innards rupture from emotional explosives.

“Why?”

Ed crosses his legs and brushes invisible things off his trouser leg.

“Surely you know?” Ed stares at me. I shrug. “After the altercation between Scott and Ian, I think we can all agree it is Scott who has to go.”

I don’t agree at all. If anyone should go, it should be Ian, but I keep this to myself. I try and bide my time.

I try to sound in total control when I reply.

“I think Ian is overreacting. He had a bad day filming. Everyone got frazzled, and testosterone got in the way.”

I look at Ed to gauge his reaction.

“That’s not what Ian said.” Ed glances at his phone. “Don’t let your feelings get in the way of good judgment.”

Is there a hint of a threat in Ed’s voice?

“I think it would be a mistake to get rid of Scott. Brad and Scott work well together. They are a team, just like the characters they play. The show needs them.”

“Get rid of both of them then.”

My mouth drops open. Did I hear that right, or is there something wrong with my hearing?

“If you think one is not going to be good without the other, kill them both and make Ian the star of the show.” Ed pauses. “Problem solved.”

He hesitates before he adds, “Don’t let your personal feelings get in the way of your career, Kayla.”

I’m too stunned to be able to reply. Has he lost his mind? How the hell would that work?

I can’t just kill off two of the main stars of the show—the only two that are really any good.

“A car accident is always good. With some good writing, you can string it out and keep the audience in suspense for a bit.”

My mouth opens, but no sound comes out. I try again and feel like a fish out of water.

Just then, Ed’s phone rings. He looks at the screen, presses the answer button, and leaves my office.

I’m not sure how long I sit and stare at the chair where Ed had sat during the meeting. It wasn’t really a meeting, I decide, more like a dictator come to tell me what to do. From my point of view, a meeting was about discussing different ideas, working through a problem.

The longer I sit and ponder, the angrier I become.

Eventually, I push my chair back and make to leave my office. I scribble something on a blank page and walk out.

The note on my computer will let anyone who’s looking for me know I’ve taken the rest of the day off.

There’s no way I’ll be able to get any writing done after this meeting. I may as well get out before the walls close in on me. They are suffocating me as it is.

I drum my fingers on my steering wheel for a few minutes before I drive out of the car park and turn left.

I have no idea where I’m going. It’ll do me good to just go for a little drive.

As I make my way through the traffic, I replay Ed’s words. Just get rid of both of them.

It was nuts. There was no other way to describe his reaction.

The show doesn’t have enough traction to survive the two main leads being written out. While I don’t make a point of reading the reviews regularly, I’m aware the audience hasn’t warmed to Ian.

Without paying attention to where I’m going, I turn left, right, and left again, and I meander through downtown LA.

I enjoy working on the show, and I have plenty of ideas of where it could head. After the first season, I was brimming with ideas and creativity. Ed hasn’t been interested.

Ed.

I decide Ed is the problem, together with Ian, in all of this.

Of course, Angela is right, and I really need to start to speak out and stand up for what I believe in.

I take another left-hand turn and notice I’m in Brad’s street. I sigh and slow down.

Outside his house, I stop the car.

I know Brad must be home. He isn’t scheduled to shoot at the studio today.

I take deep breaths in and out before I get out of the car and walk to the front door of Brad’s house.