Chapter 66: Editor Bruce
In the editing suite at Miramax, Bruce stood up from his desk chair, rubbing the knots in his neck and lower back.
The air smelled of stale pizza, bitter coffee, and the unmistakable chemical tang of film stock and splicing tape.
The viewer's light box glowed, displaying a work-print frame of Joey's deliberately grimy face—his Billy clumsily trying to hide a wrench smeared with fake blood. Around it lay rolls of film, continuity sheets, and labeled trim bins.
After twenty-some days of intense shooting, Bruce had delegated every remaining wrap-up task to the assistant director, grabbed a short break while the lab processed the dailies, then locked himself in the editing room the moment the footage arrived.
'Harvey wants this?' Bruce muttered hoarsely. 'Turn this raw, authentic chaos into something generic? Not happening.'
He and the editor Harvey Weinstein had assigned him—a young guy named Dennis—had been stuck here for a week, less editing than battling: on one side Bruce's artistic vision, on the other Harvey's commercial demands.
Harvey's voice still echoed from their last phone call: 'Speed it up, Bruce! The audience won't sit through your artsy dialogue! Faster! I want action-action-action! Got it? Action-action-action!'
As Bruce stood there, the pager on the cluttered desk beeped. He grabbed it: a scrolling message from Monica's number—Carol's in labor! St. Vincent's! Everyone's heading there! Get here NOW!
'Right now?' Bruce grabbed his jacket and ran out.
'Dennis!' he yelled toward the film storage room. 'Guard the work print. Lock every cut in the cans. If Harvey wants action-action-action, let him cut it himself. I've got a baby to meet...'
St. Vincent's fifth-floor maternity waiting area. Bruce rushed in, hair messy from running, and spotted his friends—Monica, Rachel, Phoebe, Chandler—plus Joey's suitcase; the crew was flying to Europe that day.
'Hey, everyone!' he said breathlessly. 'How's Carol?'
'Twenty minutes ago she delivered a boy—no surprise there!' Rachel jumped up, hugging him. 'Carol's fine, just exhausted.'
'So where's Ben—sleeping?' The name slipped out before Bruce remembered the baby hadn't been named yet.
Monica frowned. 'Who's Ben?'
'Um... the baby,' Bruce said, running his hand through his hair.
Monica shrugged. 'The nurse took him for routine checks. Ben's not bad—better than the names Ross and Susan were arguing about.'
'Are Ross and Susan in the delivery room?' Bruce looked around. 'And where's Joey?'
Monica shook her head. 'Haven't seen any of them in a while. Ross missed the actual birth.'
'How did that happen?'
Phoebe grimaced. 'They were fighting over names, Carol kicked them out. They're probably still arguing somewhere.'
'And Joey?' Bruce pressed. 'Isn't his flight to Germany today?'
Rachel raised her hands. 'Joey followed the feuding pair... then—poof—all three disappeared. About half an hour ago.'
A memory from the show flashed in Bruce's mind—Ross, Susan, and someone trapped in a janitor's closet. But Phoebe's here, so... Joey?
'Janitor's closet!' he said suddenly. 'Where is it?'
Without waiting, he spotted an elderly maintenance worker. 'Excuse me, are you Ben?'
The man blinked. 'Nope—name's Glenn.'
Bruce grabbed his arm gently. 'Can you show me the janitor's closet? My friends are locked inside!'
Glenn, startled but helpful, led him down the corridor.
Monica and the others followed; Bruce waved them along.
Around another corner Glenn stopped at a door. Bruce knocked hard. 'Ross? Susan? Joey? Are you in there?'
A relieved voice answered, 'Bruce? Thank God—get us out! We're stuck!'
'Open the door! The lock's jammed and the air is terrible!' Susan shouted.
'Man, it smells like bleach in here and I'm missing my flight to Germany!' Joey added from inside.
Glenn already had the key out. The lock clicked; the door opened as the friends crowded forward.
Ross pushed through immediately: 'Carol? The baby?'
Monica smiled. 'Born and healthy. Carol's resting; baby's with the nurse. How did you end up in there?'
Ross didn't answer; he sprinted toward the maternity ward, Susan right behind him, disappearing around the corner.
Bruce turned. 'Let's go see Carol and the baby.'
Before leaving, he glanced back at Glenn tidying up. 'So this is your closet, and you're Glenn—right?'
Glenn looked confused. 'Should I be someone else?'
Bruce shook his head, heading for the ward. 'Thought the maintenance guy's name was Ben in the show...'
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