Be in the Now

Z trudges behind Nora on the way out of the interview area, weighed down only by the fill light screen and a small case of lenses, the broken lens now packed carefully away. She tries to redeem herself by grabbing one of the heaviest equipment bags, but Nora swoops in and rescues it right out of her arms before she can protest. They finish loading the RV mostly in silence. Mom takes the driver’s seat, Nora types the RV park’s address into her phone, and Z climbs into the back, unsure whether she’s relieved Mom hasn’t lectured her yet about the lens, or would rather just get it over with.

Z doesn’t feel like touching her vlog footage; she just wants a distraction, so she pulls out her phone and watches a video Mari sent of a wallaroo, followed by some old clips of Popcorn tearing around the backyard the week before. The cute videos help take her mind off the coming conversation with Mom, and off meeting their new crew member properly later.

Z’s so absorbed that she doesn’t notice the RV has stopped until someone clears their throat behind her. Mom is standing a few feet away, explaining that they’ve been parked for about five minutes already. Nora’s already headed out for a walk, and she’s been calling Z’s name from the front without any response. Z apologizes, admitting she’d been watching videos.

Mom sits down beside Z, saying they should talk about a few things, in a tone that feels uncomfortably familiar. Z jumps in first, apologizing again for breaking the lens and offering to save up her allowance to help pay for it. She explains she’d only been chasing the shot because she wanted to prove she had what it takes as a filmmaker—good enough to land the interview with Winter at VidCon and post something impressive for her followers.

Mom stops her gently. This isn’t really about the lens. She worked hard for the grant money behind her documentary, and the interview mattered to her. But the bigger issue is that Z needs to be more present in general, instead of filtering everything through what might make a good post or impress her followers. They’ve talked about this before, Mom reminds her. Z spends too much time with her face in her phone, worrying over how many likes some future post might earn.

“But my phone was off today!” Z protests, which feels unfair since turning it off completely had taken real effort. Mom clarifies this was never about whether the phone was on or off. It’s about the bigger picture, about Z living too much in the online world instead of the actual one in front of her. Today’s accident proves the point. When someone’s busy filtering reality into a potential post, they can miss what’s really happening and misread a situation entirely.

Something clicks for Z. She hadn’t thought about it that way before, but it makes sense now that she does. Mom asks her to think about it, and whether Z can try to be more in the now for the rest of the trip. Z promises she can, adding that she doesn’t want to let Mom down. Mom pulls her into a hug, reassuring her that she won’t, not if she tries her best, then suggests they break out the instant cocoa they packed. Z happily agrees and offers to grab the marshmallows.

While they stir together mugs of cocoa, Z feels lucky to have such an understanding mom, and finds herself wanting to grow up just like her, as a parent and as a filmmaker, too. She still has to prove she can be a valuable part of the crew, valuable enough that Mom will still let her interview Winter, with her friends invited to sit in. Tomorrow brings another day of filming, another chance to actually be in the now.