Some moments feel like a movie. It’s even weirder if these moments happen while you are actually shooting a film. As an attempt to not “leave anybody out”, my film instructor picked the crews for us rather than letting us do it on our own. This just ended with angry directors getting stuck with shy sound people and shaky cameramen. However, my crew was fine. Not great, not terrible, just fine. 

I was familiar with everyone except for one kid: Ian Bradshaw. He had long, greasy blonde hair and glasses that rested at the very tip of his nose. He wore a different band t shirt every day but the same boots and jeans. He always kept to himself and sat towards the back of the classroom. We all rotated roles on a production team except for Ian. He constantly insisted to work slate. (For those unfamiliar, a slate is that little black and white board they smack together before director calls action. Google it.) Though every role is crucial for a shoot, I presume it is safe to say slate falls towards the easier side of the spectrum. Following the carefully drawn out schedule, Ian was the last one on our crew to direct his own movie. He insisted we travel to the heart of midtown Manhattan to shoot. After he offered to pay for all of our metro cards, we agreed to take the journey. As I said, Ian did not talk much. However, for some odd reason, we all seemed to trust him.

 After we rushed off of the subway, we followed him to a huge office building. “Building” does it no justice, this place qualified as a skyscraper. Our faith in Ian was slowly melting, since as soon as we walked in we knew this was the wrong place. Men and women were sharing a sip of afternoon coffee while chatting near the rose bouquet. Security men lined the walls wearing sunglasses and that suspicious wire in their ear that no one knows where they go. Contemporary art was surrounding the walls in a fashion only New York’s finest art director could construe. I on the other hand was wearing my ‘30 And Still Frisky!’ t shirt and sneakers that squeaked with every step. As my eyes met with the man at the front desk, we knew we both came from opposite walks of life. Nevertheless, he slowly approached me, never looking away. Well, this was it. Sorry Ian, they are kicked me out for looking like a 1993 Nike ad. However, the tone of this Metropolitan man’s face slowly shifted. He gave an inviting smirk, as if the look of sudden death in my eyes made him rethink his execution plans. He simply asked if I was MZ Tiv. A 500 dollar suit and he was psychic? 

“Yes?” 

“This is for you. Now please follow the group.” 

I looked around at my fellow crew members as they already started applying their stickers. I suppose they were not as stunned as I was, so I made my mind numb and simply followed the group. 

A friendly man motioned us toward an elevator. As we all neatly piled in, he pressed his thumb against a pad, and the doors closed. At this point, I knew I had either just entered the Pentagon or the building from 50 Shades of Gray. In a matter of seconds, the doors started to open again. I stared at the freshly washed panel on the wall reading Floor 17. We all cautiously exited the elevator as it immediately flew back down towards the ground floor. Now what happens next is still fuzzy in my memory. I recall looking up, and seeing a completely empty floor. Not a single office dweller was to be seen. I cautiously walked around but made sure never to lose sight of Ian. The floor consisted of empty office rooms, cubicles, and dark brown wooden desks. I saw a kitchen, but did not dare touch a single thing. I finally walked into one of the office rooms and looked out the window. This is the part I do not clearly remember. It was absolutely stunning. We were so high that everything underneath us looked like white noise. I knew any second now a man would burst through the door and drag us all out of here. Six high school kids did not belong in a place like this. A man did burst in, but he did not drag us away kicking and screaming. He gave us a wave, handed a bag to Ian, and left. Ian later told us that was his father, and he in fact owned this building. Without wanting to seem rude, I asked him what his father does as a career. 

“Uh, I think something to do with real estate.” 

Everything felt like a dream. I was not focused while actually filming, and frankly I barely remember what the film was even about. However, I know for sure Ian Bradshaw is a name I will not soon forget.