4

"Oh, wow! Oh damn!" he says and rocks back and forth in his seat. Laughter spills through the front of the town car. "Yo, can I get a picture with you? Throw that right up on Instagram."

The driver takes out his phone, and the car swerves to the right.

"Hey, what's your name?" you ask.

"Jamal," he answers as he stares at the phone and veers the car into oncoming traffic lanes.

"Jamal, are you picking me up from the theater later, too?"

"Oh, hell yeah."

"Great, well I am trying to keep a low profile. But I promise to get a photo with you on the return ride. Deal?"

Jamal lowers the phone and looks back to the road. "Okay, yeah sure. I get what you're saying."

"So, no tweets, no statuses, no phone calls. I just need this to be quiet until after I return home. I'll give you a photo and an autograph, if you want."

"Deal. Deal. It's just great to meet you. Big fan of your work."

Jamal fist-pumps and turns his attention to the road as the car glides back into the center lane.

Down the road, the sign for Chipper Ridge Cinema comes into view, and traffic thickens as your car pulls close to the parking lot. You peer through the tinted windows at the crowd of people walking toward the theater, and as you swing by the front of the megaplex, you witness the long lines waiting to get in. You finish the last of the whiskey in your glass and place it back in the bar tray. You take one last draw of your cigarette and flick the butt out the crack of the window. Your car drives to the end of the row of stores and circles to the back of the lot into an area designated as employee parking. Light snow falls again, and the wind howls against the windows. The smell of trash lingers in the air. Pulling to the back of the theater, the car stops at double doors, where Patrick stands with an older gentleman holding a clipboard and two large, formidable men in black jackets. The driver lowers the window as Patrick leans over, his jet-black hair wisping in the wind.

"Hey, can you just come back in twenty minutes?" he says to Jamal.

You step from the town car, which quickly pulls away.

"You look great. Thanks again for doing this. How was the ride?" Patrick asks as he ushers you towards the back door. The two bodyguards crowd around you, alertly looking in all directions.