Other cast members were by now getting their hair and makeup done for the series, so I had to wait to get my hair done. The gal knew what she was doing. She did it in stages and used three different blond tints to get the look she wanted. I was worried after the first two because it looked awful. When the third color set, and she washed and styled my hair, the color appeared much more natural. I worried that it would be a lot of work to make my hair look like I just came back from surfing each day. But I guess that was what my hair stylist did.
I took a selfie and sent it to Caryn.
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By now, it was late afternoon. I figured my day was about over, but I was wrong. I’d forgotten that the typical J-drama filmed on a super-compressed schedule, compared to a movie. They had to get scenes shot today to stay on schedule.
Lexi had found Hana, and we all walked to the set where they were shooting. We found the film crew in one of the classrooms. That was when the fun started. We didn’t leave until two in the morning and had to be back at nine a.m.
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Chapter 2 – J-drama Drama Tuesday November 29
I woke at seven and jumped out of bed, so I could run. It would help me be alert for my nine o’clock on-set call. Manaia had borrowed a golf cart to follow me as I ran. We decided to run up the hill to Pepperdine again because I didn’t want to waste any brainpower trying to figure out another route.
Lexi decided that she would rather sleep in. I launched the drone and began the trek up to Pepperdine. Unfortunately, there were only so many routes through the hills from where I was staying to the campus. The drone found five paparazzi on three motorcycles waiting for me.
I slowed down so I could talk to Manaia.
“We can’t go back to the house, or they’ll follow us. Let’s just run to campus and use their facilities for me to take my shower. Let Lexi know that she needs to bring me food and a change of clothes.”
“Do you want me to block them with the golf cart or, better yet, you get in, and I take you to campus?”
“No. Just keep an eye on them, and if they get out of hand, I’ll jump in,” I decided.
Motorcycle paparazzi are crazy. There were two two-person teams, each with one sitting backward on the bike so he could operate the camera. The other one had a camera in one hand, and the other was on the handlebar. That was an accident waiting to happen.
As I ran up the hill, they saw me. All of them jockeyed to box me in.
“If you don’t back off, I won’t talk to you,” I warned as I slowed down.
The one with just one guy was on my right. When I slowed, the lead cycle hadn’t slowed down, so the idiot on the right swerved to get in front of me to steal his spot. I shook my head when he clipped the lead motorcycle’s back wheel, causing it to fishtail. Suddenly, both those bikes were skidding on the pavement. They were lucky they weren’t going very fast. The motorcycle tandem on my left overcorrected to avoid getting tangled up in the mess and ran off the road. The hill was mostly natural landscape, so going off-road wasn’t ideal. They hit some scrub brush and went sprawling.
That was when it got interesting. Paparazzi are competitive and constantly try to one-up each other to get the story first and with the best video or pictures. When cameras hit the pavement, all kinds of bad things happen. Instead of making a few hundred bucks, they could be looking at replacing a lens that could cost them that much or more. That’s if they’re lucky.
The ones who put their cycles down landed on asphalt. At the very least, they had road rash where they’d hit the pavement. The lead bike’s driver had his wrist cradled, and I suspected it was either broken or sprained. The one-man show jumped up and tried to get onto his motorcycle to drive away. But the cameraman on the lead bike clotheslined him as he tried to zip past them. The soloist’s motorcycle ran off the road on the other side while he landed flat on his back.
That would leave a mark.
The two who had crashed into the scrub brush staggered back onto the pavement. The three guys who were standing decided they would kick the shit out of the solo man. I mean, literally kick him.
“Break it up!” Manaia barked as he got out of the golf cart.
Even I would have paused if I saw a 250-pound Samoan striding up to me with evil intent etched across his face. The three guys decided they didn’t want to deal with what he was about to bring to the party.
I heard a siren and made a judgment call that Manaia could handle the police and bring the cops to the set if they needed to talk to me. The drone and I continued on to campus. Fortunately, I’d remembered where the pool was and ducked into the building to take a shower. I called Lexi to fill her in.
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Dad stuck his head in while I was in the shower.
“I have your clothes. I’m not going to stick around because I need to get to the golf course. Lexi and Hana have everything you need outside the locker room.”
