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Lorrie
“Have you worked as part of a camera crew before?”
“No.”
“Have you ever been a member of a film crew before? In any capacity?”
“No.”
“Have you been to film school?”
“No.”
Lorrie could tell the director of photography was unimpressed. She had little doubt that if it was up to him he wouldn’t let her anywhere near any of the film equipment. But, probably because the production manager was still focused on keeping Dante happy after his injury, his request to give her a position on the crew had been granted.
When Dante had told her that she’d been stunned.
Getting her a gig as an extra or as a body double was one thing. Getting her onto the crew was something else entirely.
Sure, it was minimum wage. But at least she was behind the camera, getting experience, making the magic happen.
She hadn’t been this eager since... well... since her weird pizza date with Kat. But that was something she was trying not to think about.
“Okay,” the director of photography put his hands on his hips. “Your first job.”
“Yes?”
He pointed at a mass of cables tangled together in the corner. It looked like how she imagined an Eldritch Horror. Endless coils wound senselessly together, no obvious beginning or end.
“Yes?” She asked again, a little more nervously this time.
The man’s smile was downright sinister.
Four hours later she had most of them in neat separate coils and was slowly easing the last few apart.
“Are you sure you don’t want to be a body double?”
She looked up.
Dante was hopping his way towards her, one crutch under his arm. He was dressed as the pharaoh again, face a time ravaged skull and body hidden beneath twists and furls of rotten bandages. “I reckon if they put a jacket and a fake moustache on you you’d look like the professor.”
“No thanks. I’d rather be here.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.” She pulled one end of cord out from the current snare she was working on. “It’s not as glamorous as being an actor but, you know, maybe if I do I really good job they’ll let me do something creative.”
“Like what?”
“Like, camera angles and stuff. I think I would be good at that. Especially if I could talk to the actors, help them show off their performances, maybe give them some jokes to spice up that dead boring script.”
“That sounds like you want to be a director.”
For some reason that thought speared into her. Deep and restless.
“Nah,” she shook her head. “No way. I’m the one and only cable untangler. Why would I step down to mere director?”
He laughed as he leant against the wall.
“Thank you,” she said, softy. “I know I’ve been kinda distant and weird the last few days. It really means a lot that you still got me this gig.”
“That’s okay. What are friends for? Besides, I needed to make you happy again so you’d tell me who she is.”
She looked up at him, confused. “Who who is?”
“The girl you’re in love with,” he said, matter-of-factly.
Her stomach dropped down to her feet. “What? No! I’m not in love!”
Somehow he looked incredulous through all his makeup. “I know I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed, Lorrie, but I’m not that dumb. You’ve been pining for days.”
Dante could be a tad too perceptive sometimes.
“You don’t have to tell me,” he said. Which, of course, meant she had to tell him.
“Remember when you were in hospital?” She muttered.
“Did you meet a sexy doctor?”
“No.”
“A nurse?”
“No. I came with someone. Someone I’d just had lunch with.”
“The lady in pink?”
“Yeah. Her.”
“Wait. Yeah. I remember. K-something, right?”
“Yes. Kat. We had a date. Sorta. Now she’s left me on read.”
“Lorrie. That sucks.”
“Yeah. It does.”
“Maybe I could talk to her. See if—”
“Dante. Stop. You’ve done enough. Seriously. More than enough.” She forced herself to smile despite the part of her which wanted to throw herself to the floor and mope about stupid sexy Kat, their perfectly imperfect pizza date, and her unanswered messages. “I only have one love now, and that is the love of perfectly separate, neatly coiled power cords.”
He shook his head. “You’re always making jokes, Lorrie.”
“You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”
“It’s not. But you got to stop joking some time.”
She snorted. “Where is that written?”
“Pharaoh!” The director’s assistant waved a hand. “We’re ready for you!”
Lorrie watched as Dante hopped back over to the other side of the room where they were filming. He ducked under the camera, tossed his crutch away, and, when the director called ‘action’, snarled out a line. It wasn’t in English. It wasn’t in any real language, just gibberish that sounded sort of Ancient Egypt-y. Despite that, he delivered it perfectly, voice reverberating with power.
He’d get an Oscar one day. Lorrie was sure of it.
She finished untangling the power cords as Dante did another take. It was good timing. When the shot was over and everyone was moving everything around in preparation for a set change the director of photography walked towards her, eyeing the neat coils of cord with a keen eye.
“What do you think?” She asked.
“It’s a start.”
“A start?” Considering the mess that they had been in before she’d been feeling downright proud of herself.
“Those boxes,” he pointed across the room. “There are some lights in them.”
“You want me to put some lights up?” She asked with excitement.
“No. We’re finished with them for the day. Take them back to the van.”
She looked at the boxes. They were big, very big, and there was a lot of them. It was going to take a while.
She sighed. “Yes sir.”
*
Kat
Friday.
Kat was standing outside a house on the edge of town trying very hard not to sweat.
It was no use. It was hot and she was nervous. She was here to play a role. A proper role, with lines. She still didn’t know what those lines were but she was going to have to face a camera and say them with whatever inflection the director wanted.
If she did a good job maybe it would lead onto other roles. Maybe it would be the first stop in a long and illustrious acting career.
Or maybe she would mess up and never get another speaking role again.
She took a deep breath.
It was okay. It would be okay. She reached out and knocked on the door. For a minute nothing happened. She knocked again. Still nothing. She pulled the call sheet out of her bag and checked the address. Yes, she was in the right place.
“Hello?” She called out.
Nothing.
“Hello?!”
Still no response.
It was strange. When she was on the set for the mummy movie there had been production assistants everywhere making sure all the actors got onto the set on time.
But, the mummy movie had also been at a studio not a random house.
Tentatively she reached out, took hold of the door and pulled it open. It was heavy and squealed alarmingly as it swung back. The room inside was dimly lit.
She stepped forward. “Hello?”
“Hello!”
She barely stopped herself from squealing as a man emerged from the shadow beside her.
“Miss Mason! I’m so glad you could make it.” It was the man she’d met in the casting office, bald and beaming from behind round glasses. “Please, come this way, we’ll get you into hair and makeup.”
“Where is everybody?”
“They’ll arrive soon, don’t you worry.”
She let herself be led through the house and into what looked like a kitchen. It was small and the walls were lined with plastic sheeting which was splattered with paint. Blue, purple, pink, and green. A woman was there in overalls spotted with the same colours.
“Is this today’s alien?”
“Yes.”
“What’s going on?” Kat asked.
“I’m going to paint you,” the woman told her. “It’s part of the costume.”
“Oh.” She supposed that made sense.
“I’ll leave you ladies to it,” the man said with a wink and left the room.
For a reason Kat couldn’t name she was a hell of a lot more nervous after seeing that wink than she was before.
“So... um... is this a face and hands thing?”
She woman laughed. “You’re cute.”
Ten minutes later she was standing in her knickers, her other clothes in a neat pile by the door. She wasn’t especially precious about this particular set of underwear which was good because when the painting started it quickly became obvious the woman had very little control over the spray. Either that, or she didn’t really care. Within minutes Kat was covered from head to toe in a base coat of blue. After that more detail was put in. Speckles of green, accents of pink and purple. Her lips were painted red and hair covered by a bright orange wig.
It felt... well... it felt a long way from the regal Alien Queen she was imagining, that was for sure.
Still, she told herself, it was okay. So she was blue with green spots and orange hair? So what? This could still be a powerful performance. Maybe, in a year or two, this would be an iconic character. One that everyone would dress up as at Comic-Con.
“This is your costume.”
She stared. “Where’s... um... the rest of it?”
The woman laughed again.
When she was dressed the man with glasses came back, cooed over her, and led her down into the basement where a studio light was aimed at a painted backdrop. She shuffled the whole way, worried she would damage the bright yellow bikini that had been taped into place and at first didn’t notice the three men already occupying the room.
Two were wearing the generic black clothes common with camera crews. The third was Neil.
He beamed when he saw her.
“You look amazing!”
She tried to smile. The expression on her face didn’t feel like it quite made it. “Thank you. You look... um...” Neil was wearing a cheap astronaut costume. Aluminium foil, gumboots, and what looked suspiciously like a fish bowl in place of a helmet. “...good too.”
“I know,” he said with a flashing smile.
“Hey boss,” one of the men called to Neil. “What are we doing with this Alien Queen? Same as the last one?”
Kat frowned. “Huh?”
“Yes,” Neil answered. “This backdrop will be fine. Now, Kat, in this scene Captain Thork is meeting the Alien Queen and—”
“Wait a second,” she interrupted. “You’re the director?”
“Yes.”
“And there are other Alien Queens?”
“Yes.”
“And the plot is...?”
“Captain Thork travels between worlds meeting all the Alien Queens and convincing them to join the Alliance.”
A dreadful suspicion was stirring in her gut. “And, um, how does he do that?”
“Are you worried about lines?” Neil asked. “Don’t worry. It’s mostly improv. I’ll come in, you listen to what I say, nod, and then—”
“That doesn’t sound like improv.”
“It’ll be fine,” he promised. “All you have to do is be seduced.”
“Seduced?!”
“Yes. It’s fine. Relax. Get into it. You know most girls take off the bra too. You should think about that. It would really elevate you and give you a better chance at making it big. But don’t worry about it for the first shot. Just look sexy.”
Kat stood, frozen. She wasn’t feeling nervous anymore. She was feeling worse. A lot worse. Sick, horrified, trapped. She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to be wearing what she was wearing or doing what she was doing. She wanted out. Out of the costume, out of the basement, out and away from the men turning the small camera to face her.
“Okay! We’re ready for a shot? Good! Action!” Neil called and, responding to his own command, puffed up his chest and began to act. “You shouldn’t go for walks without your royal guard, your majesty.” He touched the hair of her wig, pushing it out of her face. “Anything could hap—”
“No,” Kat said, quietly.
“I... eh... I’m sorry. I think you misunderstand. These forests are not safe for—”
“No,” Kat said again, louder, and pulled off the wig. “I’m not doing this.”
“But,” Neil looked angry. “You’re already here. You’re already painted.”
“You lied to me,” she said, looking him in the eye. “You said this was a big production. Like Star Wars.”
“It will be!”
“Then where’s the script? Where’s the production value?”
“Production value?” Neil sneered. “Of all people I didn’t expect you to be a diva.” Lower. “You’re a nobody, Kat. This is your shot at stardom. Maybe the only one you’ll ever get.”
Those words hit like stones.
“No,” she said one more time, dropped the wig on the ground, and walked away.
“Kat!” Neil called after her.
She ignored him.
“Kat!”
She grabbed her stuff where it was piled nearby, ran up the stairs, and left. The air outside was hot and muggy, the pavement near scalding under her bare feet. She swore, pulled on her shoes. She’d just got them onto her feet when Neil burst out.
“You leave now and I’ll tell everyone you’re unreliable! I’ll ruin your acting career! I will!”
“Fuck you,” she said and, for a reason she couldn’t name, she ran. She ran and ran and ran and ran. She ran away from Neil in his foil covered suit. She ran away from the house and the shitty painted set within it. She ran until her legs burnt and her lungs felt tight in her chest. She ran until she found a small shitty park wedged between two aging office blocks, and then she collapsed down on the grass, panting.
Then, to her surprise, she laughed.
It was an ugly breathless sort of laugh. Both bitter and happy at the same time.
She’d said ‘no’.
She’d finally said ‘no’.
It was a good feeling... even if it was overshadowed by the part of herself that wanted to pound her head against a tree for being so stupid.
She’d fallen for Neil’s bullshit. How?! There had been so many red flags! But she hadn’t seen them because she’d wanted this to be a real opportunity. She wanted to believe she had a chance of becoming an actress, a real actress. But that was stupid too. Actresses were extroverted, beautiful, and talented. They were stars who lived in palaces not... ordinary people destined to inherit their mother’s plant shop.
With a hiccup her laughter turned into something else. Something that felt painfully like a sob.
Her phone buzzed.
She pulled it out of her things.
Neil was messaging her. As she watched the notification number went from one, to three, to six. She deleted the conversation without reading it. Then, before he could send another message, she blocked him.
It was a good feeling cutting him out of her life. Quick and cathartic.
But, with him gone, the top stop on her messenger was occupied by another name. Lorretta Lane. Kat had been trying not to think about her ever since she left her in the hospital with the Pharaoh. But now, with everything she’d been focused on coming to nothing, she couldn’t help herself.
She opened the conversation and stared in surprise at what she found. Messages, all from Lorrie.
Hey, how are you?
Do you want to go out for food again sometime? I’ll pay this time.
I’m taking inspiration from you and spending all day in pyjamas today.
She’d never seen these messages before. Yet, despite that, they were marked as ‘read’. But that didn’t make any sense. Unless... Realisation settled like a stone in Kat’s stomach. Her mother had made a habit of taking her phone to read through her Facebook messages. Kat had thought she’d just been reading Neil’s messages. Evidently, that wasn’t the case.
The last two messages were a joke.
Do mummies ever get lonely in those big old pyramids?
Of corpse they do.
She laughed. An ugly wretched sound. She felt a few hot tears slide down her cheeks.
Lorrie had wanted to hang out with her again... and Kat had never answered.
Before Kat could think about what she was doing she hit the small phone symbol in the corner of the screen. It rung for a long time before it was picked up.
Lorrie’s face appeared, round and framed with wild blonde curls. “Kat?” Her voice was distorted and strange through the phone’s tinny speakers. “Kat? Is that you?”
“Y-yeah,” Kat managed. “It’s me. I’m so sorry. I didn’t see your messages.”
“Kat,” Lorrie sounded concerned. “I can’t see you. You sound like you’re crying.”
“Oh... yeah. It’s been a hell of a day. Neil—”
“What did he do?”
“Well... I... I don’t think I...”
“Where are you?”
*
Lorrie
It was Friday. The second day of her new role as... well... Lorrie wasn’t sure her role had a title. So far she had untangled cables, carried boxes, held up lights, moved cars so the parking inspector wouldn’t ticket them, and even made sandwiches for the crew. She didn’t mind though. She could tell the director of photography was impressed with her dedication. She wasn’t allowed to touch the camera yet but he’d shown her how to set up a c-stand.
It wasn’t much but it was a start.
But then it happened.
Right in the middle of a take.
Her phone began to buzz.
The director of photography looked at her like she’d stabbed him in the back.
“Phones on silent!” The production manager called.
Dante, who had been in the middle of strangling an extra, paused to watch as Lorrie frantically fished the phone out of her pocket.
“I’m so sorry. I thought it was! I thought...” she sucked in a sharp breath when she saw who it was.
Kat.
“Hang up!” The director snapped.
She almost did. Her thumb moved to hover over the angry red button. But she couldn’t press it.
“I... I’m sorry,” she said and then ran from the room.
When outside she answered. “Kat?” There was no video feed coming from Kat. Just a grey screen. “Kat is that you?”
“Y-yeah,” a small broken voice came out of the phone. The second she heard it Lorrie knew Kat was in trouble. “It’s me. I’m so sorry. I didn’t see your messages.”
“Kat,” Lorrie said. “I can’t see you. You sound like you’re crying.”
“Oh... yeah. It’s been a hell of a day. Neil—”
Fear spiked in her chest. “What did he do?”
“Well... I... I don’t think I...”
“Where are you?” Lorrie asked.
Kat sent her a screenshot of a map with a geo tag on it.
“Okay. I’m coming to get you. Don’t worry. I’ll be there soon. Hold on.” She hung up.
“Lorrie?” Dante was in the doorway with his crutch. “What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry. I need to go.”
“But... you can’t just walk out. They like you. This is your chance.”
“I’m sorry,” she said again and ran. She flagged down a passing taxi and yelled frantic instructions to the driver as they sped through the city towards Kat’s location. They were there within twenty minutes which probably meant they broke several speed limits.
It was a small scrubby park, barely big enough for a tree. Sitting on the grass was a woman.
She was blue and wearing a yellow latex bikini with spikes on the shoulders and a Roman style skirt. It was worlds away from frilly pink pyjamas and was outlandish and kitschy enough to make the mummified corpse costume look classy.
“Is that who we’re rescuing?” The taxi driver asked her.
“Um... I think so. Don’t go anywhere.”
“Okay, but I can’t be idle too long,” the driver said as Lorrie climbed out and carefully approached.
“Kat?”
She looked up. Tears had carved tracks through the blue paint on her cheeks. “Lorrie.”
She sat down beside her. “What happened?”
Kat told her. It was a strange sordid story and several times Lorrie had to stop herself from ripping out grass in anger. Neil wasn’t just a creep. He was a complete and utter douche nozzle. He’d lied and manipulated Kat to try and make her... what? Be part of his weird masturbatory sci-fi fantasy? And, if that wasn’t both bizarre and bad enough, when she’d left he’d called her a ‘diva’ and threatened her career. If Lorrie ever saw him again she’d call him a perverted little pimple, trip him into a pile of horse shit, and steal his lunch for good measure.
But she didn’t tell Kat that.
Kat, Lorrie could tell, wanted support and comfort, not elaborate revenge plots. Lorrie did her best to provide that, staying as calm as she could and making all the right noises at the right time.
“I feel really stupid,” Kat concluded. “I should have known something weird was going on. I guess I just wanted to believe. And now I’m crying about it! How pathetic is that?”
“Hey, no,” Lorrie reached out and took Kat’s hand. “It’s okay to cry. Crying is good. You’ve just got out of a really weird and shitty situation. I would cry too.” Kat didn’t look convinced so Lorrie went out on a limb. “You know what I used to say to my sister when she cried?”
“What?”
She gazed at her as seriously and earnestly as she could. “Are you having a crisis?”
Kat’s expression was blank.
“Get it?” Lorrie prompted. “Crisis? Cry, sis?”
Kat yanked her hand free and punched Lorrie in the arm.
“Ow!”
“My life’s dreams are falling down around me and you’re joking?!”
“But you’re not crying anymore,” Lorrie pointed out with a hopeful smile.
“No. No I...” Kat started laughing. “Goddamn it. Crisis. Cry, sis. That’s so stupid.”
“Are you feeling better?”
“A little,” Kat confessed and reached out to retake Lorrie’s hand and squeezed. That little gesture sent a flush of warmth surging through her. Lorrie looked into Kat’s eyes, large and red rimmed. Her irises were extraordinarily detailed; flecks of brown, green, and gold blended together and shining in the late afternoon light.
“Lorrie?” Kat whispered.
“Yeah?” She whispered back.
She didn’t know why they were whispering.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“That pizza we had?”
“Yeah?” Lorrie prompted when Kat feel silent.
“Was that a date?”
Lorrie’s heart kicked up a gear. “I—”
A car horn.
The taxi driver was hanging out the window of his car. “Hey! I’m sorry to break up a beautiful moment but I can’t be idle too long or the metre will stop running. Do you want to go somewhere else? A hotel perhaps? I know some places nearby that are open minded. They won’t mind that one of you is blue.”
Lorrie turned to Kat, heart still pounding in her chest. “Do you want to go somewhere? I bet we could find a better pizza shop.”
“Yeah. That would be nice. But...” she pulled at the bright yellow bikini. “I don’t really want to be in public right now.”
“Home then?”
Kat grimaced. “No. My mum is probably camping in my living room.”
Lorrie didn’t want to take her to her place. Her housemates were loud, smelly, and intrusive at the best of times. She really needed to move out.
An idea occurred to her. “I know a place. It’s nice, nearby, and private.”
“Yeah?”
She grinned. “Better yet. It’s also got the best PlayStation game collection this side of the equator.” Dante was going to in for a hell of a surprise when he got home.