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Kat
When Kat was fifteen she was in love with her best friend, Sarah.
Sarah was in love with Troy, the boy that lived down the street.
Troy, as far as Kat could tell, was in love with aliens. It was all he ever talked about. Area 51, Roswell, even Superman. If no one stopped him he could, and would, go on about them for hours. Sarah didn’t care. She would listen attentively, lean in close, and gush about how cute he was to Kat as they walked home.
One day Sarah asked Kat who she liked. Was it Tom who sat with them in art class? Was it Amir with his floppy fringe and too tight jeans? Was it Miles, the tall good looking surfer boy who smiled at her in the hallways?
Kat never plucked up the courage to tell her the truth.
She did, however, realise that she had never really noticed Tom, Amir, or Miles. She had never noticed any of the boys in her class. All she’d ever noticed, was Sarah. That night she went to the library, choose the computer at the very back, and started searching. She’d heard the words lesbian, gay, and queer before. That night was when she learnt what those words actually meant.
It made her happy.
There were people out there like her. A lot of people. She just needed to find them.
And she did.
When she was sixteen she made out with a girl with blue hair beneath the school stairwell. When she was seventeen she fell in love with an American called Kylie who would spend hours messaging her every day, until one day she stopped. When she was eighteen she went to a gay bar for the first time, shouldered her way through the crowds of shirtless men, and somehow ended up in the arms of a woman with short spikey hair and two full sleeves of tattoos.
She had sex for the first time that night.
It wasn’t... well... it wasn’t good. She was nervous, inexperienced, and more focused on getting it right than enjoying herself. But the woman she was with – Ruby – had been kind and patient. Slowly, they figured it out together. Kat would have liked to see her again, but Ruby hadn’t wanted to be with anyone who was in the closet and Kat hadn’t been ready to come out. Not then.
In fact, it took years for her to finally tell her mum that she was gay. She did it at the same time she told her mum she wanted to be an actor. To her surprise, it was the latter thing her mum took issue with.
But now her years of uncertainly and secrecy had created a new problem. She was fast approaching her mid-twenties and she still hadn’t had a real girlfriend. She didn’t know what to say, how to act, or even how to flirt. Which is why, throughout the entire maybe-date she’d had with Lorrie, all she’d been able to manage was some eye contact and small talk.
It wasn’t until they were out on the pavement that Kat had willed up the courage to ask if it was a date... but before she could Lorrie’s phone had rung.
Half an hour later they were in a stark white hospital ward. Lying in a bed was a strikingly handsome man; tall, muscular, with dark skin and puffy eyes, like he’d been crying. He was wrapped in bandages from the neck down.
At first Kat was horrified. Then she realised something. These weren’t hospital bandages. They were old rotten bandages.
A mummy. No, not just any mummy. Kat saw the gold bracelets, the extra detail put into the makeup on his hands, the cape still hanging from his shoulders. This was the hero monster. The big bad. The pharaoh himself.
He pulled Lorrie into a tight hug the second she walked into the room.
“Lorrie! Lorrie, oh my God.”
“What happened?”
“It was a minor accident,” the movie’s production manager seemed to appear out of thin air wearing her best please-don’t-sue-us face and carrying a clipboard full of papers. “Totally unpredictable.”
“He broke his ankle!” Lorrie yelled.
“Now. Let’s not be hasty. We don’t know that yet. The x-rays—”
“It’s okay,” the pharaoh said. “It was my fault.”
The production manager turned to Kat. “You heard that didn’t you, nurse? His fault. He said it.”
“I’m not a—”
“I was trying to be dramatic,” the pharaoh went on. “Like Gary Oldman in Dracula. I was doing this big gesture, it was really cool, but then I tripped over my bandages.”
“Tripping over your bandages did this?”
“A flight of stairs was also involved.”
“You fell down a flight of stairs?”
“Technically,” the production manager chimed in. “It was a pyramid. No legal requirements to slip proof pyramids. Stairs on the other hand—”
“You fell down a pyramid?”
“Yeah.” The pharaoh sniffed. “It really hurt, Lorrie. Are those my sunglasses?”
“I borrowed them. I was out when you called.”
“Where were you?”
“Hanging out with Kat.”
“Who?”
“Kat.” Lorrie nodded to her. “She’s my friend.” To Kat. “Kat, this is Dante, my other friend.”
Kat gave what she hoped was a cheery wave but deep down she was busy absorbing this new information. Lorrie knew the pharaoh, knew the pharaoh well enough to be the first person he called in an emergency, knew him well enough to be at his house when he wasn’t home. If that wasn’t enough she was still hugging him. And he was hugging her. That closeness seemed as natural to them as breathing.
Suddenly the lunch they’d shared at the pizza shop didn’t seem all that romantic.
After all, if this is how Lorrie treated her friends a simple meal like that almost certainly meant nothing.
It hadn’t been a date. It was just them hanging out.
Kat had, due to her inexperience with romantic relationships, read into the situation what she’d wanted to see. And, to make matters worse, she’d then followed Lorrie to hospital like some creepy stalker.
“Hey, Lorrie,” she cleared her throat. “I think I should go.”
“Really?” Lorrie’s brow pleated. “You sure?”
“Yeah. Um. I don’t want to get in the way or anything. Besides, I have some stuff I need to do. Thanks for the pizza.”
“You bought it,” Lorrie reminded her.
“Yeah,” Kat said softly. “I did.” Without another word she headed for the door, dodging around a nurse, and following the signs back towards the reception.
She felt strange. Not angry. Not sad. Just... small. Out of place. Unwanted. Silly. That was it. She felt like a silly girl who had jumped to conclusions too quickly and expected something too soon. Lorrie had invited her out for pizza. Big deal. She hugged the pharaoh who, as it turned out, was beautiful beneath his mask and a much more successful actor than she could ever hope to be.
But even that thought felt silly, selfish, and petty.
It wasn’t about the pharaoh. Not really. He was Lorrie’s friend. She’d said that, and Kat didn’t think she was lying.
It was about Kat, and Sarah, and Ruby. It was about how she had thought, for a brief moment, that maybe Lorrie – small, happy, with hair like a bleached blonde halo – could be the next chapter, maybe even the final chapter in that story. All become of some silly jokes and a shared meal.
She rounded the corner and walked straight into someone coming the other way.
A man. Hair slicked back, clothes close fitting and obviously expensive.
“Kat?”
“Neil?! Oh! I’m so sorry.” She quickly stepped back. “What are you doing here?”
“I saw on Facebook that Dante Golding got hurt on set today. We’re good friends. I would introduce you—”
“No thank y—”
“—but he’s probably not in the mood for networking right now. What are you wearing?”
She fingered the frilly pink threads of her shirt. “Just clothes.”
“They look like pyjamas. I thought you were at work.”
“Eh. Yeah. I... um... just got off.”
“You go to work dressed like this?”
She felt like a deer in the headlights. “Yes?”
“Well,” he straightened and flashed her a very flashy smile. All teeth, perfectly arranged and whitened. “I’m really glad I ran into you. I’ve been messaging you all morning but you must have been too busy to see. I think I have found a good acting role for you, if you’re interested.”
She straightened. “Really?”
“Yes. I’m friends with all the actors and casting directors in the town. You have to be, you know, in order to make it in this field. Otherwise you’ll just miss out on opportunities.”
“I... I suppose.”
“So, are you interested?”
“Y-yes. Yes! I am.”
“I’ll talk to you later. Message you the details.”
“Thank you! That’s really nice.”
“Hey. No worries. Anything for a friend.” He winked and walked passed her, around the corner, and disappeared.
Kat was left standing there not knowing quite how she should feel. On one hand, she was still feeling stupid about Lorrie. On the other, it seemed like her mum had been right. Neil could help her get more roles and improve her acting career. Perhaps she had dismissed him too quickly the night before. Perhaps Lorrie wasn’t the only thing she’d got wrong.
Perhaps coming out today would turn out to be a good thing... even if she didn’t end up on a date with Lorrie.
*
Lorrie
For three days Lorrie stayed with Dante, helping him while he healed from what in the end turned out to be a nasty sprained ankle. And for three days she was miserable. She wasn’t sure why. She normally loved spending time with Dante. He’d been her best friend since high school. Plus, as long as she was sleeping on his floor she could use his PlayStation whenever she wanted.
But, despite the hours she sunk into Red Dead Redemption, she felt wrong.
Not unhappy... just wrong.
Maybe it was because, despite being lucky to only have relatively minor injuries, Dante was planning on going up the pyramid again to get the shot he ‘screwed up’.
Maybe it was the weather which had decided to change from pleasantly warm to could-bake-muffins-on-the-car-dash hot, which would have been okay, if Dante had air conditioning, which he didn’t.
Or maybe it was because Kat hadn’t messaged her back.
Not that Lorrie could blame her. It was the shittiest first date of all time. The pizza had been terrible, not to mention expensive, Lorrie had been hung over, and in the end they’d gone to the hospital to watch a grown man cry over his twisted ankle. She didn’t blame Dante for crying though. The doctors said it was the worst sprain they’d ever seen, plus he was covered in bruises from his fall. She’d cry too. But his bedside wasn’t exactly winning any awards for romantic destination of the year.
She opened up their conversation and flicked through the painfully few messages she’d shared with Kat.
A joke.
Another joke.
She’d asked Kat out for pizza.
And then, the more recent messages, all from her.
Hey, how are you?
An hour later. Do you want to go out for food again sometime? I’ll pay this time.
Still no response. I’m taking inspiration from you and spending all day in pyjamas today.
Nothing. Nought. Nada. Zero. Zilch. Zip. Not even a laugh reaction emoji.
Yep. There was no doubt about it. She was as good as ghosted.
She sighed.
“Oh my God,” Dante threw down his phone and shot her a frustrated look. “Will you stop that?”
“Stop what?”
“You know what. You’ve been huffing and puffing for days.”
“Scared I’ll blow your house down?”
“Stop joking. I’m serious, it’s really annoying. What are you doing anyway?”
She hid the screen from him. “I’m creating hundreds of fake accounts so I can leave hundreds of negative reviews on this pizza shop.” Not quite a lie. She had been doing that over the last couple of days. She just wasn’t doing it right at that particular instant.
He made a face. “Are you still going on about that?”
“They served me cheese, Dante. Literally.”
“You like cheese.”
“That’s not the point.”
“You told me you asked for the cheese.”
“Still not the point.”
“Isn’t this the place you said was run by the mafia?”
“Ninety nine percent sure.”
“So is it really a good idea to piss them off?”
Lorrie hadn’t thought about that.
“Well,” Dante said. “If you ever get bored of calling hits on yourself I think I have something to tell you about The Pharaoh’s Revenge.”
“The Pharaoh’s Revenge? That’s what they’re going to call the mummy movie?”
“What’s wrong with The Pharaoh’s Revenge?”
“Nothing... except I’m pretty sure that’s what people say when they get diarrhoea backpacking in Egypt.”
Dante recoiled. “Ew! Lorrie!”
“Hey! You asked what was wrong with the name! I told you. Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m not the one that named the movie after poo.”
“Well, what I was trying to say is, the movie that is about an undead pharaoh taking revenge and not about poo may need some more extras.”
That caught her attention. “Wait. Really? You asked?”
“I said I would. They told me there are some spots opening up. Especially now. They had to push all of my scenes back because I messed up—”
“Was a victim of shoddy workplace health and safety practises,” Lorrie corrected him.
“—so a few body doubles dropped out. Said they couldn’t make it.”
“Body doubles?”
“Yeah. It’s super easy. They just dress you up like the main cast and you stand around while the camera people figure out the scene, or maybe they’ll do a shot with you over the shoulder or something. They’re going to call some extras this weekend but I might be able to get you to the top of the list if you’re keen.”
“So... I have to look like the main cast?”
“Yeah. So?”
“Dude. I’m short and fat. I don’t look anything like any of the main cast.”
He frowned. “I didn’t think of that.”
She pushed some hair from her face and sighed. “It’s okay. I don’t think I want to go back on that movie anyway.”
“Why not?”
“Well, apart from the management team being complete and utter dicks – no, more like a whole bag of dicks – I just don’t know if I want to act anymore. It was always an intermediate thing anyway. Something to do while I figured myself out.”
“Have you figured yourself out?”
“Yes. Maybe. No. I don’t know.”
“What if I could get you another job on the movie? As a camera person or something?”
She shot him a sidelong look. “You could do that?”
“I honestly have no idea. But I could ask.”
They lapsed back into silence. Lorrie looked back at her phone and the string of unanswered messages. It was no use. She’d messed up. Either that or Kat just wasn’t that into her. And, really, that was okay. It was no big deal. They’d only known each other for a day. It was fine.
Still...
She began typing one last message. A final stab in the dark.
Do mummies ever get lonely in those big old pyramids? She waited a few seconds before sending the follow up message. Of corpse they do.
*
Kat
The next few days were busy. Very busy.
First, as promised, Neil messaged her the details for an audition. The role was ‘Alien Queen’, the production an unnamed science fiction movie that Neil seemed convinced was going to be a big hit. It’s going to be bigger than Star Wars, he told her via text. I promise you.
Kat wasn’t sure about that. There was no dialogue samples or character details with the audition notes and when she called them inquiring they told her she didn’t need them. That seemed strange to her. But, on the other hand, she’d only been on one movie and as an extra. Besides, her mother, having stolen her phone again and read the conversation, seemed convinced this was her chance.
“I told you that Neil Wolff would be a good contact for you. Didn’t I say that?”
She was trying to be outwardly supportive of her acting ambitions ever since Kat walked out on their breakfast. That, at least, was an improvement. But it also made Kat nervous. What would happen if she blew this new audition? Would that be the ammunition her mum needed to flip back to begging Kat to come home to run the family store? Certainly her mum had been breaking into her house a lot lately. Almost every day.
She tried not to think about it.
She also tried not to think of Lorrie.
They’d had pizza together, once. It meant nothing.
But, despite that, she kept hoping, deep down, Lorrie would text and ask her out again.
Even if it was just as friends.
Because she liked Lorrie. She really did. And, while a part of her still yearned for more, she would also be thrilled just to be her friend.
But those messages didn’t come.
So Kat threw herself into her work. She tried to imagine what the casting director of this new film would want from an ‘Alien Queen’ and practised those faces while she scrubbed floors at the nursing home. Stern, imperial, powerful. Yes, that seemed right. Maybe, when she went for the audition, she would tie her hair up in a tight bun. Something severe and uncompromising, like a CEO. Or maybe in tight braids, like Princess Leia or Daenerys Targaryen. Regal with a touch of fantasy.
She would ditch her lacy dresses of course, and go in something a little more severe. She had a pencil skirt somewhere. That could work. And a simple long sleeved white shirt. She didn’t own any heels, she could never walk in them, but she had some black ballerina flats. Not perfect, but they wouldn’t ruin the aesthetic either.
“You should not have come to my planet,” she said, trying to make her voice strong and sure. “You should not have come to my planet. YOU should NOT have come to MY planet.”
She’d tried a dozen more inflections before her boss came over, tapped her on the shoulder, and quietly told her to stop. She was scaring people.
She’d blushed so hard she saw her nose turn red.
But hopefully that meant she had a shot at this role.
You’ll get it, Neil promised. I told the casting director about you.
Funnily enough, that did nothing to ease her nerves.
On the day of the audition she got up at dawn, went on a brisk walk around the block, and got the early bus to the casting director’s office. It was on the outskirts of town in a small brick building shared by a dentist, a car parts supplier, and a funeral home. She climbed the stairs awkwardly in her pencil skirt and sat in the waiting room slowly getting more and more nervous.
No one else was here. That was weird, right? Where were the other actors applying for roles?
Eventually the door opened and a small bald man with round glasses called her into the office.
It was a remarkably empty room. The only items of furniture a couple of chairs and some boxes pushed into the far corner. It echoed as she walked.
“Welcome! Welcome! Katherine Mason? Yes! Good. I heard all about you from Mr Wolff. We’re very excited to have you work with us. I can see Wolff was right. You’ll be a great fit for this role.”
“Oh... okay. I hope so.”
“Indeed,” he picked up some papers sitting on one of the chairs and handed them to her. “Here’s some details about where you’ll be needed and when. If you have any questions about that just call me at—”
“Wait. That’s it? I got the part?”
“Yes, dear! Of course!” He beamed at her, his teeth on full display but eyes stiff and flinty. “You start Friday.”