Scars Of A Broken Bond by Calv Momose

He scrutinized the text once more, ensuring he hadn’t misread. “Duane, are you playing games with me? Wasn’t the shoot
scheduled for after Christmas?”
“The team just told me it’s been moved up.”
This left Bradley dumbfounded. “Why?”
“I have no idea. I heard nothing about this earlier. You must return by tomorrow. Your assistant’s booking your ticket as we speak.
If you miss the opening ceremony, the media will begin speculating once more.”
The realization that he’d have to leave so soon crushed Bradley. He managed to ask, “Can’t I take some time off?”
“What do you think?”
While others involved might be able to delay, Bradley, the lead, couldn’t afford such luxury. Moreover, since Bradley had been
without work lately, the staff knew his schedule well.
Bradley’s expression was one of despair.
His discomfort was palpable.
The trip was dead before it had even begun.
Sabrina, noticing Bradley’s distress, finished chewing her food and inquired, “Bradley, what’s going on? You look upset. Is
something wrong?”
With a heavy sigh, Bradley slumped back into his chair, grappling with his emotions. He just wanted to strangle the person who
had decided to shoot in advance.
“What’s the matter?” Bettie asked.
Exhaling deeply and full of sorrow, Bradley replied, “I have to leave tomorrow.”
“What? Why? Didn’t you wrap up all your work?” Sabrina questioned, taking a refreshing bite of meat, succulent and perfectly
cooked.

“I’ve got one more film. They told me it would start after Christmas. I don’t know why they’ve moved it up.” Bradley’s voice was
filled with frustration and helplessness.
He’d persevered through many long days to finish his work, only to be blindsided now.
Sabrina was at a loss for words. “What’s happened? I’ve only ever heard of shoots being delayed.”
“It must be a request from the investor.”
“Then, there’s no choice but to go back tomorrow. We’ll catch up when we find time,” Sabrina said.
Bradley’s heart ached even more at her words.
“Man proposes but God disposes. Let’s drink to good luck,” Bettie said, filling their glasses.
Bradley was in the depths of despair. He grabbed his wine and drank it down in one go, vowing, “If I find out who moved the
shoot up, I‘1L make them pay.”
“Come on, let’s eat. You’ll be leaving tomorrow. You’ll have other chances to come back here for work.”