Movie Magic
by comidacomida

Alison fled across the uneven ground through trees and around undergrowth.  Although there was a faint silvery-bluish light shining down from above she could barely see where she was going and was forced to rely on her memory of her surroundings.  Collapsing against a tree, she labored visibly to catch her breath after running what easily could have been miles.  Freezing, she held her breath when a twig snapped somewhere behind her.  She fell silent... and that's when the beast howled.

The sound chilled her to the bone far more than she thought it would and her breath came faster.  Alison quickly picked her way around the trunk of the oak she had grabbed and slid down the embankment upon which the tree stood.  Crawling her way into the root mass at the base, she gripped her hands to her chest and began to whisper silently to herself nonsensical words of encouragement, far too lost to fear to be coherent.  

She froze in her half-prayer when another twig snapped and her breathing stopped anew when the light from above was eclipsed by a large, monstrous shadow.  Alison watched as the figure, not quite a man and not quite a wolf, lifted its head back and howled again.  It was all she could do to keep from crying out and she pulled her legs close, wrapping her arms around them as a tear fell silently down her cheek.  Just as a whimper of fear threatened to escape, a shout from off to the side proclaimed “Cut!”

Still shivering, Alison remained in the overhang beneath the fake oak tree even as the lights of the sound stage were turned back on.  The bluish silver spotlight that stood in for the moon was turned off but she stayed right where she was, still caught in what, to her, had been real fear.  She was not normally a method actor but, then again, very few producers insist directors run their sets like Matthew Wechsler, and as her hands finally stopped shaking she was beginning to realize just why it was so many actors didn't want to work with him a second time.

As one of the up-and-coming writer/producers in the indie movie scene, Matthew Weschler had made an enormous impression on Hollywood and, despite the many mega studios attempting to recruit him, Matthew, or 'Matt', as he demanded the staff call him, refused any contracts or commitments that would tie his hands or tell him how to do what he did.   Matt was a genius of sorts, and that meant everyone who was anyone wanted to do a movie with him.  Strangely, even after five out of five movies being big hits it seemed that the talent rarely took on a second role in one of his films.  She was pulled from her musings as a hand appeared in her vision offering aid in climbing out of the hollow beneath the tree.  “Doin' okay, Allie?”

Accepting the assistance, Alison took the hand and emerged back into the 'real world' on set.  The owner of the hand, Jackson Pierce, was an exception to the seemingly endless line of actors and actresses who refused to work with Mr. Weschler more than once.  It made sense of course, since they were filming The Blood Red Moon: Hunter's Moon, the sequel to The Blood Red Moon where Jackson played the good guy and the bad guy; he was the werewolf.  Her gaze lingered on his ruggedly handsome face, which definitely explained why he was chosen as the leading man, and she was just about to provide a response to his still unanswered question when her eyes caught a glimpse of something that made her pause.

Being led away from the set was an enormous-- she sought a word for what she thought she had seen-- a... creature?   It was being led by a hand (a paw?) as one of the production staff took it out of the sound stage; the last thing she saw was a large, furry tail disappearing out a side door.  Jackson called for her again.  “Hey... Allie?”

Alison responded distractedly “Hmm?”

Her focus returned to Jackson, who smiled back at her; she could see how he managed to pull off the hero look.  “You okay?  You look a little...”

Once she realized she was still holding Jackson's hand she quickly released it, clearing her throat as she attempted to avoid blushing; she was an actress, and succeeded... she hoped. “I'm fine... just... a little shaken up, I think.  Are all the shoots this intense?”

She'd been part of the production for just under five days.  It was her second day of shooting and the first one was limited to in-town scenes that involved some relatively dry dialogue; the scene they'd just done was far different than anything she'd ever experienced.  Without waiting for her costar to answer she pointed in the direction she had seen the 'thing'.  “I thought I saw-- I saw something... like... a-- a wolf man.”

Jackson chuckled.  “Yeah... that was probably Pete.  He plays the werewolf.”

Alison smoothed out her dress or, rather, Mary's dress; she was still in wardrobe.  “I thought you were the werewolf.”

Her costar laughed, and easily joked around in an almost playful way. “Well, I'm the man part of the werewolf.  Pete's the guy who brings the beast to life.”

She glanced again toward where she saw the creature being led out. “It looked so... real.  I thought they'd do it-- you know... post-editing, or something.”

Jackson flashed her that award winning actor smile that got him so much work.  “Well, Matt opts for realism.”

Alison shivered.  “Yeah... I'll say.  Whoever's working on his special effects... Jesus! I'm starting to think I won't have to act scared.”

Her statement made her costar laugh anew.  “You gonna be okay, Allie?  I know Matt wouldn't want you scared off after just two days of filming.”

She nodded; after three years of commercials and occasional work as an extra, The Blood Red Moon: Hunter's Moon was her big break and she wasn't about to sacrifice that.  Plus, between the countless clauses in her contract and the commitments she signed before being hired quitting would ruin her financially as well as professionally.  No-- she wasn't about to chicken out and she used all of her acting ability to convince Jackson as well as herself.  “Oh, no way-- the script is amazing and this film is going places.  I want to be a part of it.”

Picking his coat off a chair positioned behind the cameras, Jackson gave her a thumbs up.  “I said pretty much the same thing with the first Blood Red Moon.  Not even the non-disclosure agreement made me hesitate.”

Jackson's final comment finally gave Alison a moment pause.  She'd never had to sign what her agent called an 'N.D.A.' and he hadn't been able to provide her any specific information as to why a producer would require such a punitive gag order regarding anything involved in the movie but, just like Jackson, her curiosity and hesitance wasn't enough to get her to hold off on the offer for work.  Before he had a chance to leave she called out to her costar.  “Hey-- Jackson?”

He lingered at the door leading out of the sound stage and glanced back over his shoulder; was every single pose of his camera-ready?  “Yes, ma'am?”

She pushed the lingering disbelief of Jackson's perfection out of her mind so she could focus on the important question. “Why does Mr. Weschler have the non-disclosure thing for his staff?”

Jackson winked.  “Sorry, Alison... I'm not at liberty to say.”

Despite the humor of it she was still a little put off by his lack of an answer.  Letting out a sigh she watched the door close as he left.  She jumped when a voice spoke up from behind her.  “It's because I don't like sharing my methods.”

Feeling a chill run up her spine; despite only ever having him speak one or two words at a time Alison recognized Matthew Werschler's voice immediately.  Slowly turning around she held her hands at her side, gripping handfuls of the wardrobe dress as she attempted to avoid looking intimidated.  She was in her early twenties and, by her guess, he seemed maybe three or four years older than she but he was her boss and he carried himself with the air of a guy who had 'made it' and had twice the confidence someone his age should have been able to display. 

Alison was quiet for several seconds before she finally managed to come up with a response.  “Like... that werewolf costume?”

His face remained almost entirely unreadable but Alison could have sworn she caught the faintest hint of a bemused smile tug at the very edge of his lips.  “Something like that, yes.  Why?  Did you appreciate the realism?”

Matthew had the full look of Hollywood eccentricity to him; despite being only the heavier side of average, the producer wore a muumuu and a close-fitting skull cap she'd heard called a 'kippah' or something of the sort.  He was scarcely 5'3”, which meant he was a good two inches shorter than Alison, but, considering he was an important Hollywood icon he could easily have been intimidating.  The man was almost never on the set from what she'd heard, and yet there he was, looking right at her.   Something about the casual manner of him 'talking shop' put her at ease in a way she didn't think would have been possible; Alison was even able to muster up a timid laugh. 

“I barely even got a chance to see it, but... I mean... I'm sure I'll be seeing more of it, right?”

Mr. Werschler's hidden smirk returned.  “Tomorrow we'll be going over the third scene of act three.”  He must have understood the meaning behind Alison's confused expression because he was kind enough to elaborate.  “The scene with you in the remodel construction site.  The reveal.”

She didn't know the entire script in the same way the writer/producer did but his reminder was more than enough to jump-start her memory.  The word 'reveal' explained it all; it was the scene when the audience would get a full view of the monster and that meant she would be getting a full view of the costume as well.  Based on what she remembered of the first The Blood Red Moon, she had quite a scene coming up; if the werewolf was less CGI and more applied special effects then Alison wasn't as worried about forgetting her lines as she was about passing out.  All of her thoughts were condensed into four simple words that strained her acting ability to its breaking point.  “Great!  I can't wait!”

If Matt could sense her trepidation he didn't let on.  He took a few steps and glanced back at her, indicating without a word that she was to follow him; she did obediently.  The producer continued speaking only once they were on the move, the sandals he wore flapped against the soles of his feet as he walked.  “I am very particular about who I want to work on these projects-- not only because I value real talent over vastly-overused Hollywood names, but because not all the actors out there are able to handle my... methods.”

Alison was careful about her next words, picking them mindfully-- but only once her mind moved past the eerie, primal fear she felt when the howl from the prior scene replayed through her mind.  “Well... I've been surprised a few times so far, and we're only on day two, but it isn't like I--”

Mr. Werschler interrupted her with a question slung so casually that it almost seemed to downplay the significance.  “Oh? What've you found surprising so far?”

She hesitated to answer his question, but only because she wasn't sure what might earn her the displeasure of the eccentric producer.  In the end she decided to be honest.  “Well... this is my first horror movie, so maybe it's just me, but..”

Matt slowed, motioning to a turn to the right, a path between two sound stages which led to the outside craft services seating area.  “But?”

Alison smoothed out her dress; she was still in wardrobe, but the producer didn't seem to notice-- or perhaps he just didn't mind. “But, I always thought that most of the horror movies these days used more computer graphics special effects stuff than any--”

Her walking companion smirked, interrupting her yet again.  He spoke with a faint chuckle to his voice as he repeated her casual description to her.  “Used more 'computer-graphics-special-effects-stuff'?  You mean CGI?  Computer Generated Imagery, Ms. Werner... and yes, there is a place for that kind of presentation in Hollywood but I choose to minimize use of CGI in my movies.  I prefer the more traditional approach rather than post production optical effects, and I refuse to hire directors who don't see things my way.”

The proper term for the 'traditional approach' in the movie industry floated just outside of Alison's mind  but within a few seconds of silence she found it.  “You mean, practical effects?”

He laughed.  “Precisely... about as practical as they come.”

Alison was about to question the producer further, but he came to a sudden stop, raising an arm and waving someone over.  “Pete!  Come over here a minute!”

The man who approached looked like one of the set builders or perhaps one of the lighting technicians; he was wearing a pair of jeans and a plaid button-up shirt and a curly beard; despite the hair on his head being almost black, his well-trimmed facial hair was a rich brownish-red.  Although he was well over six foot tall and looked like he was tipping the scale at over two hundred pounds his ready smile and calm body language gave her the impression of a teddy bear more than the biker or logger look he could easily have pulled off.  His voice was deep, but not threatening. “What's up, Matt?”

The producer smiled, motioning first to the man, then to Alison, then back to the man as he spoke.  “Alison, this is Peter Synvolka.  Pete, this is Allie Werner.   Alison, Pete is our werewolf.”

Although the man looked tall, filled out, and otherwise 'rustic', there wasn't really anything particularly special or noticeable about him; the fact that he wouldn't have visually stood out on camera certainly explained to her why it was he acted in a suit.  Her mom had always told her not to judge someone based on appearance, thus she strove very hard to avoid letting her mind fall into the Hollywood frame of reference.  “Nice to meet you, Peter.”

The man held out his hand.  Alison hesitantly extended her own, balking at the thought of one of those finger-crushing manly handshakes that seemed to be so popular among the 'I'm-a-man's-man-and-not-gay' Hollywood types.  She was surprised when he was so gentle, and his smile matched his tender touch.  Once his hand left hers he followed up the greeting with a calm announcement that hinted to her that he could tell she was uncomfortable.  “Please, 'Pete' is fine.  I may be a monster on camera but it's all an act-- I'm too laid back I-R-L to be worth fearing.  Honest.”

Pausing, Alison asked a question she hoped wouldn't come across as stupid.  “I-R-L?  What's that stand for?”

Although Pete smiled pleasantly it was Matt's reaction that came across as almost insulting; he laughed heartily then slapped the bearded man on the back.  It wasn't until the producer addressed Pete that Alison realized that Matt was laughing at him and not her.  “God, Pete-- save the abbreviations for chat rooms!”

Glancing back and forth between the two men, Alison remained confused until Matt elaborated.  “Pete and I grew up together-- he's actually a computer programmer and does a little movie work with me on the side.”

She blinked, continuing to gauge the two of them as she tried to figure out it was some kind of joke or if he were setting up a laugh at her expense; Peter certainly didn't look like the sort of guy she'd peg as a 'computer nerd'.  Unable to figure out the angle she chose to play along and asked the most logical follow-up question she could think of.  “So, Pete-- how is it you do computer programming and acting?  I figured doing computer stuff would be a full time job.”

What happened next made Alison's brain stop in its tracks: Peter blushed.  She wasn't certain how or why it had happened, but apparently something she'd said was enough to embarrass the big  man and, in that one moment she couldn't help but find it endearing... and a little cute.  He cleared his throat, offering up a pleasant smile that accentuated the dimples mostly hidden by his beard.  “Well... I, uh-- I'm a trouble shooter and I'm self employed, so I can set my own hours.”

Matt, who seemed much more comfortable talking about it took over.  “Pete's been out here in California longer than I have.  We both grew up in New Mexico.  He's the guy who actually got me my first chance to work with a small production studio, and from there, helped me launch into the big time with my own production company.”

Rather than let the explanation stay at that, Peter quickly stepped in to elaborate.  “Matt and I went to college together.  I studied computer science and he--”

Alison went out on a limb.  “Movie production?”

The producer grinned. “Life sciences-- environmental studies.”

She was able to join the two men in their next laugh; she knew next to nothing about Matthew Werschler but even if she had idea on where to start she never would have figured him for a scientist.  His next statement came across as if he were practically reading her mind.  “I suppose you could say I didn't make much of a scientist.”

Pete, appearing much more animated and engaging once Matt got him started, threw an arm around the smaller man's shoulder.  “But I'd worked on a few film projects he did for an elective course and they were amazing.”

Matt began walking and Pete stepped in line; the producer motioned for Alison to follow.  “Anyhow, once he moved out here to California, Pete got lonely and started looking for ways to convince a friend or two to join him.”

The big bearded man continued smiling despite his voice taking on an insulted tone.  “That's not exactly how I'd put it, Matt...”

The producer laughed, taking a step to the side so he could run his shoulder into Peter's ribs.  “Of course it isn't.  You'd probably say something like wanting to help me get a really strong start at putting my film making talents to use in the big leagues.”

Pete's smirk turned into a full-on-smile.  “If I remember right, that's exactly what I said.”

At that point, the three stepped out of the 'alley' created by the sound stages and into the staging area for crafts services.  The meal area for the shoot was a collection of hard plastic folding tables with benches.  Each table looked easily able accommodate at least eight people and barely half of the available spots were taken.  A long serving line of some half-dozen-or-so meal options was set up beneath an awning to keep the sun out of the eyes of the serving staff and off the food. 

Matt motioned to the grand collection of available dishes. “Go ahead and find something you like, Allie-- Pete and I have our preferred dishes too.  I was hoping to chat with you a little more after we all got our food.”

With nothing more to be said the producer went straight to one of the shorter middle lines and what appeared to be a wait for some kind of stuffed pepper and pasta dish.  Pete, who remained with Alison, motioned to the left two lines, the middle two lines, and the right two lines, identifying them as he did.  “Caterers brought two beef options, two vegetarian dishes, and a chicken or a fish dish.”

She had experienced craft services before but the kind of food catered during a commercial was nothing compared to what appeared on a movie set.  Before Peter left her side she quickly spoke up. “So... uh... what's good?”

He smiled warmly.  “Personally?  I like the steak.  Far left line.”

Although the big man headed off on his own, Alison quickly followed after him.  Once Peter stepped into line he stood casually, facing forward right until she came to a stop behind him.  He spoke up without even turning around.  “Looking for something you can eat with a fork and knife?”

She was caught off-guard by the question. “Huh?”

Pete about-faced, motioning to her dress.  “I noticed you were still in wardrobe.  Trying to keep it clean?”

Alison immediately felt herself blush. “Oh-- I...”

The large man laughed, waving away her concern with a  big smile. “It's fine.  At least half the actors do it... but, word to the wise: I hear the costume department flips their lid if you drop something on their precious fabric.”

She smiled at the humor.  “Well, I guess they don't have to worry about you eating in costume.”

The scent of roast pepper, garlic, and what Alison thought to be cumin was the first indication that they were joined by a newcomer and she turned in time to see Matt step up beside her, a big smile on his face and an appealing-looking plate of food in his hand.  “Oh, indeed... paws just don't hold silverware all that well, do they, Pete?”

Smiling, the actress laughed at the comment. “And I could imagine the trouble with finding a place to put the costume's head while you were eating-- if it were on the ground someone might kick it, and if you put it on the table it might get--”

Her words trailed off as both men glanced to one another with a smirk.  Her quizzical glance must have been enough to catch Pete's attention because he spoke up, face reddening just a little.  “It's not the kind of thing to have on all the time.”

She grinned wider, finding the man's embarrassment just too cute to stop, and she offered another playful jibe.  “Only during the full moon, huh?”

Peter looked as if he were about to say something, but Matt spoke up first.  “Would you like to see the werewolf?”

The memory of that one quick glance after the end of the take a scant twenty minutes previous still tickled at Alison's mind.  She also realized, based on the glances the two men were sharing that there was something up.  The young woman decided to play it safe.  “Well... I'll be seeing Pete in the suit again tomorrow at the shoot, won't I?”

Pete interjected before Matthew could answer.  “Right.  Exactly.  And if Alison is as surprised as Mary is then it'll make it that much more believable.”

Referencing Alison's character's name caught the actress by surprise, but for only a moment.  Peter had a very valid point but something about the man's hesitation caught her off-guard; most movie monster actors never got any real attention.  Was it because they, like Peter, didn't want it?  Was he hiding something or did he really not like the spotlight?  With her mind suddenly moving in a different direction, Alison questioned the big man, trying to be as calm and unbiased as she could in her tone. “You're not embarrassed by your part in playing the werewolf, are you Peter?”

The sudden increase in redness to his face made her realize that she might have been onto something.  Pete cleared his throat and glanced side-long to the producer after accepting his steak and sides from one of the caterers.  “Hey, uh, Matt-- maybe we should change the--”

Alison accepted hers next even as the producer responded. “Actually, I think Ms. Werner really should meet the werewolf sooner rather than later.”

Peter's face scrunched up as if he'd smelled something putrid.  “You sure?”

The producer smiled, leading the group to an empty table with a welcoming gesture.  “I think it would be best to know tonight rather than wait until tomorrow.”

Pete glanced to Matt.  “What did you have in mind?”

* * * * * *

Ever since starting in the acting business Alison had heard countless times about the predatory nature of producers and directors.  Her mom and dad had warned her about 'sleazy Hollywood types', her agent had explicitly directed her to stay away from scenarios that left her alone with one of the 'management team', and she didn't even want to think about the horror stories she'd heard spread along the rumor mill in the crowds of other young women she met at auditions.  Somehow, despite the unbelievably unlikely chance of it, Alison found herself face-to-face with such a situation.

Matt had said to meet him at 8pm at Pete's trailer, so not only would she be alone with the producer but she'd be outnumbered; anyone with half a brain would have been stupid to actually follow through with attending, yet, as she approached the trailer she began to wonder whether her fault was stupidity, or something just as dangerous like curiosity, or perhaps her attention to the siren's call of the unknown.  She didn't really consider herself much of an adrenaline junky, yet there she was, her body countering every sane thought in her head that suggested she call it quits.  She still had almost ten minutes until she was supposed to be there; she would be able to turn, flee, and none would be any the wiser.

The sound of a shower running inside the trailer was enough to give her a moment's pause as she considered the significance of someone bathing-- plus the fact that most people showered naked.  Was she really so desperate to show herself an eager starlet that she would put herself in such a compromising situation?  No, of course she wasn't.  Her brain reminded her that far worse things could happen than a rather compromising situation; some of the 'Hollywood types' had no problem with crimes much worse than rape.  Why then, she asked herself, was her hand turning the knob of the door?  Why were her legs taking her inside?

Her mind was full of conflict and she had a hard time coming to grips with the temporary insanity that caused her to do anything but turn and walk away, yet there she was, standing in a well-appointed, trailer while the occupant was one flimsy door away in the shower.  Looking around, Alison's eyes fell first on an enormous leather armchair that looked as though it could have sat two.  Continuing to look around, her gaze came to a stop when she saw a large sofa and, for a split second, her mind imagined all the horrible things the other young actresses had talked about happening to them.  Her survival instinct received a much-needed injection at that moment and she was just about to turn and leave, when the shower stopped.

Alison realized that the moment had come when she would have to make up her mind; would she lose her nerve and flee or stick it out with the understanding that she would be put into a position that would obviously challenge her morals.  If she were in such a position would she just go with it, or would she rebuke any advances?  Would she have an opportunity to decline or would she be forced into something?  Why was she even still there?  What was the strange, pungent, musky scent that permeated the trailer?  It smelled like--

The door to the bathroom opened and every thought in Alison's brain stopped as the doorway was taken up by the enormous form of a hulking beast... a wolf man.  It was scarcely two feet from her and, so close, she could tell that there was no matter of 'practical effects'; she was looking at a real werewolf.  The creature looked almost as surprised to see her as she was to see it and, although she was as stuck in place as sure as a deer facing headlights, somewhere in the back of her mind she realized that the beast's response upon seeing her was nothing like what she would have imagined; the creature quickly lowered a towel to hide what lay nestled between its-- between his legs. 

A sound of surprise cut the silence as it emerged from his muzzle; it was far more word-like than animalistic.  “Alison!  You-- you're early!”

Even as the enormous werewolf stood half out of the bathroom, ears wilted, tail tucked, fur dripping, and large paws clamping a bath towel to his groin, Alison remained frozen in place, brain trying to come to grips with what she was seeing: seven foot tall wolf man-- a naked wolf man trying helplessly to retain some degree of modesty after being caught coming out of the shower.  She wanted to cower; she wanted to laugh; she wanted to scream; she wanted to run and run and run and not look back.  In the end, all she could do was question the entire situation with a single word: a name.  “Peter?”

The sound of the door to the outside opening behind Alison was enough to get the Werewolf's amber eyes to gaze at something other than her but she was far too stunned by the beast before her to bother looking back.  Somewhere in a part of her brain that was still able to assimilate information, the young woman realized that the voice speaking behind her was Pete's.  “God damn it, Matt...”

If the werewolf had looked sheepish before then Alison had no words to describe the expression and posture of embarrassment that overtook the hulking death machine before her.  Ears pulling down and back, the werewolf's eyes migrated to the ground.  His deep, gravely voice was even further apologetic in its excuse.  “She was early, Pete-- who in Hollywood is ever early?”

Somehow, in some inexplicable way, Alison managed to find the ability to form a relatively full sentence.  “Wh-what's... going on?”

The werewolf in front of her reached a lengthy, fur-covered arm down the thin hallway of the trailer into what could have been a closet, and returned with a hanger in-paw; it was a pair of large, tattered jeans.  “I'm... uh... showing you the... uh... costume?”

Alison heard the sound of Peter slump against the trailer door behind her.  “Matt... go put on some pants for god's sake.”

The werewolf pulled the hanger close to his body and quickly withdrew into the bathroom.  “Way ahead of you, Pete-- I'm sorry, Alison-- really sorry.”

She couldn't find the right words to say until the door to the bathroom closed, taking the wolf man out of her view.  “Matt?  Mr. Werschler?  He-- he's a real werewolf?”

Turning around to face Peter, Alison realized that the man was laughing silently, shoulders spasming.  He had a plastic box of some kind in one hand; it was gray, and had a black handle on it.  Although Pete did put the box down on a nearby counter he didn't do much to answer her save for his continued laughter, which eventually became audible.  The sound grated on Alison just enough that she was able to push a little fury past her fear and she pointed at the bathroom while demanding of him “Was that a real-- that was a real werewolf!”

It took a few more seconds before Peter managed to contain his mirth but his smile remained even after the laughter came to an end.  “Yes, Alison... Matt is the real star of the movie.”

She glanced back over her shoulder at the sound of what could have been shampoo bottles or other toiletries falling onto the linoleum floor, followed by some growled curses and something about a tail.  Alison returned her gaze to Pete, who remained casually leaning against the counter.  “Matt?  Matthew Werschler?  So why does he even have you--”

Despite the numerous questions that could have come to her mind the one that somehow escaped her was as to why Peter was given credit as the man wearing the suit when there wasn't even a suit.  Even stranger was the fact that he was able to anticipate the question enough to interrupt her asking it.  “A suit adding six inches to an actor is one thing, but nobody would believe that special effects would make a five-ten guy look like a seven-something werewolf.”

The sound of the bathroom door opening behind her had Alison spinning around, taking a step back toward Pete as the werewolf once again appeared.  Although the creature was far different from the producer she had joined for lunch hours previous, there was something about the wolf man's statement that rang true to Matt's phrasing and use of words that made him strangely familiar.  “And people asking questions isn't very good for a man's private life.”

Looking the beast up and down, Alison saw that the 'new' Matthew wore the huge, tattered, baggy jeans as if they were skin-hugging (or, in his case, fur-hugging) sweat pants.  He had ash colored fur interrupted with large blotches of tan and cream, certain portions of him almost reminding Alison of an African Cape Dog.  Despite how crazy the situation was in general, there were some inconsistencies and her brain focused on those.  “The werewolf in Hunter's Moon is all black.”

Apparently over his awkward phase of surprise and self-consciousness, the jeans-wearing werewolf trotted over to the huge arm chair and flopped right down into it; the furniture seemed almost undersized for the creature.  The werewolf, or, Matthew, apparently, motioned for Peter.  “Well... that's where the movie magic comes in... practical effects and all.”

Pete picked up the plastic box by the handle and went over to stand next to the chair; although he was a big man his size was easily dwarfed by the werewolf and, as he set what was apparently a tool kit down, he began to speak.  “The werewolf is all black, but Matt isn't.  That's why we have paint.  Just like most other movie monsters the actor still has to spend some time in the makeup chair.  I might not be the werewolf but I still play a part in getting him ready for the camera.”

Alison stared in muted surprise as Peter began pulling out oils, paints, brushes, combs, swabs, and countless other things she couldn't name.  The absurdity of it was almost too much to bear.  “You're kidding.”

Matthew stared across the distance to her, holding up a paw for a shake like an employer offering a job.  “Come... feel.”

She didn't realize until that moment that everything that had come before hadn't been the test.  There was the matter of the non-disclosure agreement that finally made sense; she had glimpses of the monster when he wasn't due for shooting; she had somehow been talked into joining the two men alone in a trailer; Alison realized what it meant seeing Matthew in his real form and the werewolf's extended paw was more than similar to a boss presenting a job offer-- he was making it official.

Finally breaking out of her paralysis, Alison crossed the distance and held out her own hand; it disappeared as it was covered by Matthew's paw.  She cleared her throat, trying to avoid sounding shaken.  “I... have some questions...”

Pete smiled, picking up a brush as he began to work on smoothing out Matthew's still-wet mane.  “Well, it takes about two hours to get him ready, so I'd say he has nothing but time on his paws.”

Two hours barely scratched the surface.