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Lorrie
Lorrie woke up early to the beeping of an alarm and the painful throbbing of her skull.
“Uuughhh,” she said.
Beep beep beep said the alarm. Angry and insistent.
Slowly she peeled her face away from the pillow and peered around an unfamiliar room. She was on the floor, wrapped up in a bunch of brightly coloured blankets, still in the clothes she wore yesterday. Lying on the bed beside her, snoring deeply, completely oblivious to the alarm, was her friend Dante.
Dante was an idiot. A big, happy, loveable idiot. He was also the guy that got her the gig on the mummy horror movie. He knew all the casting directors, had been acting since he was a baby, and was always willing to throw her a bone. Especially since he had a starring role in the mummy movie. He was playing the big bad, the pharaoh himself. But, as happy as she was to step onto another film set, the truth was she was getting tired of being an extra.
She wanted a job on set. A job behind the camera instead of in front of it.
Beep beep beep.
Lorrie picked up her pillow and used it to whack Dante.
He broke off mid snore and blinked at her. “Ow. What was that for?”
“Turn off your alarm.”
“What alarm?”
“That alarm. Can’t you hear it?”
“Oh. That’s not an alarm. Someone’s calling me.”
“Then answer it!”
He reached out, grabbed his phone, and started jabbing at the screen. Presently the sound went away and Lorrie heard Dante exchange a few words with whatever nut job decided Saturday morning was a right and proper time to call someone.
“...ah-huh... yeah... no worries... that’s okay... I’ll be there... two hours... okay...”
When the painfully one sided conversation was complete he sat up, stretched, and smiled. Somehow sunny and cheery despite the obscene amount of alcohol she’d seen him consume last night. “Did you sleep okay?”
“Like the dead. Thanks for letting me crash on your floor.”
“Just like old times, eh?”
“In the old times I didn’t used to get hangovers,” she said with a groan. “I hate getting old. What was the call about?”
“I have to go back on set. Apparently they want to do some close ups they missed yesterday.”
Lorrie perked up a bit. “Do they need any extras?”
“I don’t think so. Just the main cast. Why? Do you want to go back on set?”
She thought about the potentially spider filled basement, the director that wouldn’t address her directly, and Mr Square Jaw calling her an amateur. Which, okay, sure, she was not exactly a professional actor but whatever, it was still rude. She opened her mouth to tell Dante it was shit. She was glad her part in the film was done and that she’d never have to step back onto that set. But then she thought of the mummy.
Kat.
Shy, sweet, and – once she saw her out of her costume – more than a little bit sexy.
Would it be worth going back on set to see her again? Even if only for a moment or two?
Yeah. Despite everything, Lorrie reckoned it would be.
“I wouldn’t mind. If the other extras were coming that is.”
“I’ll let the production manager know,” Dante said and stood. “You can stay here tonight if you want.”
“I do actually have a home,” Lorrie reminded him.
“Yeah but your housemates smell and you don’t have a PlayStation.”
She silently acknowledged the justice of that as he grabbed a change of clothes and left the room. She tried to get back to sleep in the hopes of skipping over the worst of her hangover.
No luck. For the next few minutes the hot water pipes banged around loud enough to put a primary school percussion band to shame. Dante was showering. A short while after that died down she heard the fridge open and close followed by the painfully loud humming of the microwave. When it was finished it let out a series of shrill chirps, alerting the whole Southern Hemisphere that Dante’s food was ready, before mercifully lapsing into silence.
The last noise was a bang was Dante slammed the door on his way out.
Why did he always slam that door? It closed normally.
She tried to will herself back into unconsciousness but it was no good. She was awake now.
With a frustrated sigh she sat up and studied the bedroom. Dante lived alone in a small squat apartment building near the city centre which had somehow survived all the development projects going on around it. From the outside it didn’t look like much. Brick walls, barred windows, flaking paint. But, despite that, Dante had managed to turn the interior into something resembling a home. Obscure movie posters hung from every wall, bright coloured rugs covered up threadbare carpet, and, in one corner, an IKEA bookshelf was filled with dozens of bizarre LEGO creations.
It was a hell of a lot nicer than the small room Lorrie was currently renting on the edge of town.
In her pocket her phone buzzed.
She pulled it out and peered at the screen. As she did another notification popped up, and another. All of them identical.
You have been tagged by Dante Golding.
Dante was tagging her in Facebook photos. No doubt ones he’d taken the night before.
She started tapping through them. They weren’t very good pictures. Or, more accurately, they weren’t very good pictures of her. Dante was born to be in front of a camera. Big brown eyes, flashy white teeth, dimples to die for.
In contrast she looked like a garden gnome. Short, fat, and flushed.
She messaged Dante.
What the hell? How did you make me look bad in every one of these photos?
The response was instantaneous.
I thought you looked good. ☹
Stupid earnest Dante. She couldn’t stay mad at him. Well I don’t. Stop tagging me.
One more. I promise you look good in this one.
The notification popped up. Lorrie tapped it and sucked in a breath.
Dante was right. She did look better in this photo, if only because she was half turned away from the camera. But that wasn’t what caught her attention. What caught her attention was who she was turned away to face.
Small, barely in focus, and turning to leave, but there.
Kat.
Lorrie tapped the picture. A name appeared. Katherine Mason.
Heart pounding she pressed her thumb down on that name and was teleported to a Facebook profile. It was mostly private. All she could see was the photo. But that was enough. It was Kat. She looked stunning; long brown hair kept off her face with pink hair pins, lips turned up in a shy smile, eyes shining an intricate hazel. Beside the picture were the options to ‘Add as Friend’ and ‘Message’.
Social media was a wonderful thing.
Well. Actually, no. It was a terrible thing that made people compare themselves to others and collected their data to give to rich people so they could get even richer. But, that aside, it really was awesome.
Is that okay? Dante asked.
Yeah! It’s the best photo ever! She followed that statement with a string of emojis. A happy face, an even happier face, clinking wine glasses, fireworks, a dragon, some glitter, a various collection of fruits, and one more happy face.
Dante replied with a gif of someone giving a very confused thumbs up.
How did you tag Katherine Mason? Lorrie asked. I didn’t know you knew her.
Who’s Katherine Mason?
You didn’t tag her?
No. Maybe one of my friends did?
Lorrie didn’t waste time delving into that particular mystery. Instead she navigated back to Kat’s page, sent her a friend request, and a message.
Perhaps this day wouldn’t be as awful as she’d first thought.
*
Kat
Kat woke slowly to the sounds of breakfast cooking. Bacon sizzled, oil spat, and in the background the kettle bubbled. It wasn’t until she heard the loud squeak of her pantry doors opening and closing that it occurred to her... someone was cooking breakfast... in her apartment... which she lived in alone.
Kat’s eyes snapped open.
Someone was in her apartment.
She sat up, icy cold terror flooding her veins.
Oh God. Someone was in her apartment. Someone was cooking breakfast in her apartment. What should she do?
Help. She needed to call for help.
Without looking away from the ajar bedroom door she reached for her phone sitting on her bedside table. Her fingers found the charger. They did not find the phone. No. It had to be there. She always plugged her phone in before going to bed. Always. She risked a look. No phone. No way to call for help.
Another sound from the kitchen.
Her heart was pounding in her ears, her whole body tense, her hands shaking.
Slowly, terrified of making too much noise, she climbed out of bed and began fumbling with the latch on the nearest window. She lived on the third story apartment, high enough do some serious damage if she fell. But there was a tree out there. If she was lucky she could jump to a nearby branch and—
The bedroom door swung inwards.
Kat let out a shrill cry that quickly broke off to be replaced by stunned silence. She recognised the figure standing in the doorway. Tall, thin as a rake, with close cropped brown hair. “Mum?”
“Good morning, darling,” her mother brandished the kettle. “Would you like some tea?”
“How’d you get in here?”
“I used the spare key.”
“I don’t have a spare key.”
“Yes you do. I had it made when you moved in here.”
“Mum. You can’t do that.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m your mother. Now, tea. Then you can tell me all about how your first film role went.” She turned and bustled her way back into the kitchen.
Kat gingerly followed.
Her apartment had been tidied and organised while she slept, the table set for two, and a complete breakfast made. As she watched her mum poured the tea and took her place at one end of the table. She motioned for Kat to sit down.
“Come on. Dig in while it’s hot.”
Still a little unsure how she should be feeling, Kat took her allocated seat and obediently picked up a knife and fork. She didn’t eat.
“Mum. How long have you been here?”
“Oh. Since about five this morning.”
“Five?” She looked at the clock. It was eight thirty. “Mum. That’s insane.”
“It’s okay. There was plenty to do.”
“No, Mum, it’s not a matter of stuff to do. This is my—”
“Drink your tea, dear. I made it just the way you like it. Milk, no sugar. Don’t worry, it’s not too hot.”
She picked up the tea and took a reluctant sip.
“There. Don’t you feel better? Now. How did the film shoot go yesterday? I saw you made a new Facebook friend. That’s good. An actor. Very handsome too.”
“I didn’t make any Facebook friends,” she muttered.
“Yes you did. I saw the request on your phone. I accepted it for you.” She pulled Kat’s phone out of her pocket. “Neil Wolff. He’s been sending you messages all morning.”
“Mum!” She snatched her phone back. “You can’t do that! What if he’s a crazy stalker or something?”
“What do you take me for? Of course I Googled him first. He’s been in so many things. Ads, TV shows, movies. He would be a good contact for you, if you’re really dedicated to going through with this whole acting thing.”
“Mum,” she groaned.
“What? I’m being supportive! But, you should know, if you ever get tired of acting and wanted to come home, I could always do with some help around the shop. It’s a good business that shop. You could do a lot worse.”
Kat had already had this conversation with her mum dozens of times. She didn’t want to stay at home and run the family business; a gardening shop on the edge of town. She wanted to be an actress.
It was a stupid want. A crazy one.
Impractical, was the word her mother used.
But for the first time in her life she felt like she was doing something entirely for her. Something exciting. That’s why she’d finally plucked up the courage to move out of home, signed a twelve month lease on this apartment, and secured a part time job in the aged care centre down the road. A temporary thing while she sorted herself out.
That was nine months ago.
The mummy horror movie was her first acting role.
Kat pushed that thought aside and looked at her phone.
There were seven messages from Neil. She swiped them away and was about to unfriend him when a new notification popped up. A friend request from Loretta Lane. She squinted at the fuzzy profile picture. She didn’t know anyone called Loretta.
Despite it, Loretta had already sent her a message.
Where do mummies go swimming?
Her heart leapt in her chest. Loretta. Lorrie.
The small beautiful woman with wild bleached blonde curls, a wide gap toothed smile, and the best bad jokes Kat had ever heard.
Where? She asked.
“So,” her mother said. “How was the set?”
“Oh. It was fine.”
“Are they going to hire you again?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
The Dead Sea.
She snorted out a giggle. That’s not even funny.
You laughed though, didn’t you?
Her mother frowned. “Why would they only hire you for one day?”
“I was one of the monsters in the movie. They were trying to get all the shots with the monsters done in one day.”
“If it’s a monster movie shouldn’t they take more than one day to do the monsters?”
“The hero monster does way more days.”
“The hero monster?”
“I mean, the boss monster. The big guy. He... um...” she was looking at her phone. Lorrie was typing another message.
“Why aren’t you the hero monster?”
“I don’t know, Mum.”
“Is that Neil Wolff? Is he the hero monster?”
“No. He’s the star, actually.”
The message from Lorrie popped up.
Are you at work?
No. Kat typed. She realised her mistake a moment later.
I thought you had to leave early last night for work? Lorrie asked.
Time to fess up. That was a lie. Didn’t want to hang out with Neil.
Mr Square Jaw? Fair.
“What are you doing?” Her mother asked.
“Nothing.”
“Eat your breakfast.”
She wanted to remind her mother that she wasn’t a child anymore. She didn’t need to be told to eat. Instead she bit into a piece of egg and bacon which had somehow got jumbled up with the jam toast. It wasn’t good. She swallowed anyway.
I’m hungover and bored. Lorrie told her.
Is that why you’re messaging random people?
You’re not random. You killed me yesterday. I’d say that makes us rather close, don’t you? Another bubble of text popped up before Kat could respond. Hey, why shouldn’t you go into business with a mummy?
“What are you going to do today?”
“Oh. I don’t know, Mum. Maybe just...
Because it’s probably going to be some sort of Pyramid Scheme.
She laughed. She couldn’t help herself. It was just so bad.
“Who are you messaging?”
“Just a friend.”
“Neil?”
“No.”
“The hero monster?”
“No.”
Her mother made a noise. “Well it can’t be very important then. Put your phone away. We’re having breakfast.”
Wanna get pizza? Lorrie asked.
Kat had never answered a message quicker in her life. God yes.
“I’m going out,” she said, stood, and walked towards the door.
“Kat! Wait! You’re still in your p—!”
She didn’t hear the rest of that sentence. She was already out the door.
*
Lorrie
She really was hungover.
Really. Actually. Quite badly.
But, despite that, she decided she would rather brave the sunlight and the noise and the chaos of the outside world to get pizza with Kat. She wasn’t quite sure why. After all, she barely knew Kat and staying inside wouldn’t have been a bad option, especially considering the tower of PlayStation games Dante had stacked up beside his TV. But something in her gut told her hanging out with Kat would be better than blowing up zombies. A lot better.
They agreed to meet at a pizza place they found on Google which had no reviews but was pretty much exactly half way between them.
Lorrie brushed her teeth with her finger, put on some bug eyed sunglasses she found in Dante’s draw, and set off. She was a little worried about showing up in the same clothes she’d been wearing at the pub last night. That fear evaporated the second she saw Kat.
“Oh. My. God.”
Kat blushed. It was freaking adorable. “Hi.”
“Are those pyjamas?” They were. Pink fluffy ones complete with little bows on them.
“Yeah,” Kat confessed. “I guess I left my house in a rush.”
“Eager to see me?”
“No. I mean, yes! I mean... my Mum decided to visit. She’s great. Really, I love her heaps. She’s just also...” Kat hesitated.
“The kind of person that will make you want to run out of the house without getting dressed?” Lorrie guessed.
“I was going to say ‘a lot’.”
“Wow. Sorry. That must be hard.”
“It can be.”
Kat didn’t seem very eager to talk about it so Lorrie ushered her towards the shop’s door. “Come on. Pizza makes all things better and I’m starving.”
They stepped inside. It was small, covered in lime green lino, and smelt of a lot of things, none of which were pizza. It was also empty.
“Hello?” Lorrie called out.
A bang, a muffled curse, and then a man appeared from the back of the shop, tall, terrifyingly muscular, and wearing a Hawaiian shirt that was gaping wide at the buttons. He glared at them. “What do you want?”
Lorrie would have assumed the answer to that question would have been obvious. “Pizza.”
“What kind of pizza?”
“Just a regular cheese pizza for me will be fine, with extra cheese if you can.” Lorrie told him. “And when I say extra cheese I mean can you please cover it in cheese. Really, if you want to save time you can just give me a block of cheese and I’ll be happy.”
The man’s glare got, somehow, even glarier.
Lorrie didn’t waver. She would not be shamed for her love of cheese. “What about you?” She turned to Kat. “You want anything?”
“Supreme,” she said softly.
The man didn’t touch the cash register. “That’ll be forty nine dollars and nineteen cents.”
Lorrie felt her eyebrows shoot up. “I said cheese not liquid gold. Jeez, what animal are you getting it from? A unicorn?”
“It’s okay,” Kat said quickly, pulling a card out of the back of her phone case. “I got it.”
She paid before Lorrie could protest. A quick tap and beep was all it took.
Lorrie quietly cursed herself. She wanted to be the one that paid. But it was too late now. She put it out of her mind and instead focused on the pizza. Hot, greasy, cheesy pizza. Yeah. That’s what she needed. Something that could push back her hangover and make her brain feel a little less like sludge. She hoped it would be ready soon so they could get to the well fed and happy part of this outing.
Half an hour later they were sitting in the shop’s single booth, still pizza less, still being glared at by the man behind the counter.
“So,” Lorrie said lightly. “I’m seventy nine percent sure this place is a money laundering front for the mafia.”
Kat blinked. “You think?”
“Let’s just say I’ve been in a lot of movies, and if this was a movie it would be a mafia movie.”
“I haven’t been in any before.”
“Money laundering pizza shops? Got to admit this is my first time too.”
“No. Movies. The mummy one was my first.”
“Oh. Well, that’s exciting. How did you like it? Are all your scenes done?”
Kat bobbed her head, a small nod. “It was just one day for me. It was fun. But...” her nose wrinkled. Lorrie’s heart gave a little squeeze. “...the contact lenses were really uncomfortable. And the latex.”
Lorrie laughed. “You looked terrifying. I think that’s all that matters.”
“I wish I could have done your job. I think it would’ve liked screaming and dying more than growling and grabbing people.”
“Fair. Tell you what. Next movie we’re on I’ll be the monster in itchy makeup and you be the victim. Sound good?”
“Sounds like something the casting directors choose,” Kat said dryly. “Not us.”
“Then let’s make our own movie. That way we can be whatever we want.”
Kat laughed, picked up her plastic cup of water, and raised it in toast. “I’d like that.”
“Yeah...” Lorrie studied her. Tangled bed hair, lacy pink pyjamas, black makeup from the day before still sticking to the small crevices around her eyes. “...me too.”
“Your pizza.” The man from behind the counter appeared and without any pomp or circumstance dropped a tray on the table in front of them. On it was one plasticy looking pizza and a block of cheese. He walked away without asking if there was anything else they needed.
“He gave me a block of cheese,” Lorrie said. “He literally gave me a block of cheese.”
“It is what you asked for,” Kat reminded her.
“As a joke.”
“Do you want to complain?”
Lorrie looked back at the man. If he had been auditioning to play ‘murderous thug’ he would have got the role, no questions asked. “Actually, never mind. Cheese is fine.”
Kat quietly divided her pizza in two and offered half to Lorrie.
Which was terrible. She’d invited Kat out on this breakfast-lunch-thing and so far they’d ended up in the dodgiest pizza joint in the city, Kat had paid, and now was giving Lorrie half her meal. What was worse, Lorrie couldn’t think of any good way to rectify the situation.
Lorrie made an extravagant flourish at the cheddar. “Would you like some?”
“No thank you.”
“More for me then.” She didn’t eat the cheese though. Well, okay, she did. But not the whole block. Just enough to stave off the tummy worms so she wouldn’t eat all of the pizza that Kat gave her. She’d feel really shitty if she did that. Not that it was very good pizza. It was rubbery, burnt on the bottom, and yet somehow still cold in the middle.
But it was still pizza so, despite its many short comings, it didn’t last long.
When they were finished the man practically strong armed them out. The door slammed closed behind them, the small sign on it swung to ‘CLOSED’.
She was now eighty nine percent sure it was a mafia front.
For a moment they stood outside and didn’t say anything. Kat was gazing at her. Eyes big, bright, and beautiful. “Hey...” her cheeks started to turn a fascinating shade of pink. “I wanted to ask you something.”
“Yeah?”
“I... um...” Kat shifted nervously on the spot. “Is this? I mean... I’m not really very experienced with people. Especially not... um... I guess what I want to say is... is this a lunch with friends or...?”
“Or...?” Lorrie prompted when it became clear Kat was hoping she would fill in the blank.
Her blush deepened. It was now an adorable shade that matched her pyjamas. “Um. What I was trying to say is... is this a d—”
Lorrie’s phone rang.
She reached into her pocket to silence it but saw who was calling. Dante. Dante never called. He always texted.
“Who is it?” Kat asked, voice small. “Is something wrong?”
“I’m so sorry. I just... I have to take this. Hold on.” She answered.
Dante’s voice came through the speaker a moment later. Broken and patchy. He was crying. He never cried. “Lorrie. I’m in trouble.”