B-Roll to B-Sides (PR Girls & Instalove 2)

Then it hit me. Forty-fives. The musical symbol of the fifties, of jukeboxes, of singles. Modern music was now run on singles. It used to be that way, long ago.

Opposite. Smaller.

Forty-fives always featured the hit, but then something similar on the other side—the B-side. The less played but often loved rare songs pulled along for the ride when the hit was released.

The world really didn’t have those anymore. But how would I tell the story to the world, and remind people of these semi-hidden, semi-hits?

“Hey, Brynn.” Emma, our office assistant, stuck her head in the door. “I just sent you an email with the updated resources list.” She leaned in, lowering her voice. “I know that Jonathon really wants to find some extra work for Owen Butler, a Teal Dot videographer, so he’s top of the list.”

“Gotcha. Thanks.”

Our boss Jonathon had a million connections that we couldn’t begin to keep track of. He was often trying to find work for people he knew or friends of friends. Any time we could hire someone from his list, we felt like we were earning points with him. But he really loved it when we used the resources from Teal Dot Media.

The second Emma left, I skimmed the email full of artists, video people, computer animators, and advertising experts. Calling up the Owen Butler portfolio, I saw that he worked freelance for several video production places, mostly shooting b-roll.

Videos and commercials usually started with footage of the host talking about their topic, then the shot would cut away to a clip of the subject matter. If they were talking about the environment, the b-roll might b

e footage of rolling hills, a snowy mountain, or a rushing river. It was filler material, almost like stock footage, but it also set the tone of the whole video.

Owen had an engaging visual style. It was very clean, but his angle choices were just a bit more dramatic. The more I watched his samples, the more I thought he’d be better suited to documentary filmmaking.

A documentary.

Instead of an ad for Silversong Records, we could do a short documentary series about music history, showing that music changes, but it will always be a part of our lives. A feel-good, wholesome, fascinating look into the intricacies of music media.

We could start with the b-side. Shining a light on the lost little brother of the hit song craze of the fifties.

Opening a new document, my fingers flew over the keyboard as I downloaded every idea and thought that crowded my mind. By the end of the day, I had a concrete proposal and outline. Sending it to Jonathon with a recommendation that we use his contact Owen Butler to shoot it, I snapped my laptop shut.

I hadn’t been at ClickPoint PR for very long, but Jonathon seemed to read all proposals and suggestions with a very open mind. He wanted the freshest ideas, and didn’t care where they came from.

Grabbing my purse, I began to stand up, then stopped. Opening the laptop again, I searched for Owen Butler. On the off chance that my idea was approved, it might be given to one of the senior people or a video production house to create the project. But since I’d likely be meeting with this guy, I should know more about him.

His profile image on his website was a caricature, but even that was pretty good looking. Finally I found a real photo on his profile on a job hunting site.

Instantly I wished that I could recall that email. There was no way I could work with a guy that looked like a cocky model. Those chiseled cheekbones and dark eyes were totally hypnotic. He was both masculine and polished, with a scruff of beard that made me need to run my hand across his cheek to test how rough it was.

He was also in his late thirties, I’d guess, so he’d never be genuinely interested in a girl like me.

For the first time ever, I crossed my fingers and hoped that Jonathon didn’t like my proposal, or at least suggested someone else to shoot it. The perfectionist in me couldn’t stand the thought of being distracted through this project. The idea of being in a room with a man like Owen was just too much.

2

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Owen

I hadn’t been up this early in months, and the morning light on my face felt energizing. After shooting background and b-roll footage for several companies for a while, getting Jonathon’s proposal last night was a great relief.

It figures that after sending out endless pitches, something would sneak in when I wasn’t expecting it. My entire life had been a series of mistakes and weird luck, so nothing could really surprise me anymore.

Striding into ClickPoint PR, I was escorted directly into a small boardroom. Half a minute later, I was utterly blindsided.

A petite, curvy, auburn-haired goddess walked into the room with two coffee cups in her hands. “Good morning,” she said softly, her voice as delicate as the rest of her. She seemed a bit hesitant, as I jumped up to shake her hand as soon as she’d set the mugs on the glass table.

“Good morning,” I replied. “I’m Owen.”

“I’m Brynn. How do you take your coffee?”