The stuff of teenage daydreams

The two of them arrived at the shabby little cinema that sat in the dingy workshop recesses on the far side of town. Compared to the shining multiplexes of the city, this dump had always seemed just on the edge of closing down, but hung grimly on to its share of local customers who couldn’t be bothered or couldn’t afford to travel that far. Peter’s brother had worked there for years now, an amateur interest in film having progressed into his only hope of holding pace with the monetary showboating of his classmates. It often seemed that, like many who entered such institutions only on actual merit alone, he was then under even more sneering pressure to prove his worth. Yet another reason Stacy felt more pity and camaraderie with the older boy than anything else, and why she had never questioned Pete’s decision to avoid all that.

They hung around the back alley behind the old building, as always. Waiting for Terry to appear an pull them through one of the multitude of inconspicuous back doors. They had never really worked out whether he was actually hiding the fact that he let them in for free from the management, or whether those above knew full well and just needed him to make a show of it in case any paying customers caught wind. Still, shuffling about in this dingy alleyway, trying not to be obviously seen, had seemed like quite the illicit thrill to a younger Stacy, hanging out with two boys she had only recently met. There was something about movie screens and teenagers. A sort of background noise of darkened rooms, battered car drive-ins and whispered conversations that was most likely tied back to and propagated by the very movies each generation grew up watching. The big screen meant dirty deeds: cheap sex and steamy make-out sessions. It was almost hardwired into them by this point.

One of the grey metal doors swung open and Terry appeared: dark haired like his brother, but with much more of an artsy flair than hideously practical level of care and attention. He beckoned them in with a finger to his lips. They crept through a fire escape right into the shuffling darkness of a theatre. The thin shadow they followed led them straight up into the tiered seating, about halfway up he indicated an empty chair… just the one. Peter looked like he was about to protest, but was silenced by nothing more than that finger presented once more. His face screwed up into despair… He had always had trouble disagreeing with his older sibling. Almost as if he felt indebted to the boy, just for having been born first. Terry held all the cards here. Pete could do nothing but sit down, watching his brother lead Stacy further up into the gloom.

They climbed right to the top of the room, and then on further, through a door marked ‘Staff Only’. That brought them in to a small, dimly-lit space, right above the last row of seats. The projection booth: Stacy guessed, correctly, looking around at all the whirring equipment. A spindly thin girl with strip-coloured pigtails leaned nonchalantly against the wall, chewing gum. Terry waved a hand to her, speaking in a pointedly friendly voice.

“Thanks for getting it started, Lou… I can take it from here…”

The girl’s eyes burnt only into Stacy, though what emotion, if any, was behind them... the younger teen couldn’t tell. Then, with lackadaisical slowness, she simply shrugged, blew a bubble and walked out. Closing the door behind her.

Stacy was left alone in that dark space, with the ghostly sounds of an unknown film drifting up through the wall and only her potential blackmailer for company.

“So… err… Hi Stacy.” He said, sounding more nervous than intimidating. “Would you mind getting on your knees?”