West Hollywood
It was a crime scene.
Flecks covered the cabinets. Dots peppered the ceiling. The spatter had made it clear across the room. The only thing missing was the chalk outline of the avocado that had met its untimely end in the Cuisinart Pro food processor. And in the middle of it all stood Samantha Cassidy, Emmy-award-winning actress, nibbling on her bottom lip. Chunks of green goo perched in her blond hair, and pea-colored fragments stuck to her cheeks. “Shit.”
The front door slammed. “Sami! Where you at?” Jade called.
“In the kitchen.”
“What’s cooking in there? Hopefully not your cookbook.”
In the annals of kitchen disasters, the cookbook incident ranked right at the top. Sam’s Emeril Lagasse recipe book had gone up in flames during the maiden voyage of the Viking gas stove a few months ago. It had been propped on the back burner, making it easier to read while sautéing on the front burner. The wrong knob was turned, and poof!
As Jade walked into the kitchen, Sam hopped up from the floor, sponge in hand. “Hey.” She wiped her forehead, smearing green goop through her dark brows.
“Huh.” Jade stood with hands on hips. “Forget the lid?”
“Gah. Can you believe it?”
“Yes, Sami. Yes, I can believe it.”
Jade placed her car keys on the counter and tiptoed around puddles of gunk to grab a beer from the fridge. “I’m gonna pitch an idea to the network. It’ll be a cooking show called What Not to Do in the Kitchen. Starring you, of course. We’ll bill it as a comedy.”
Sam grimaced. “I’m not that bad.”
“Well, you almost burned the place down with your little cookbook adventure.”
“Oh please. It was just a small fire.”
“Tell that to the fire department. Now, c’mon. Clean that shit up later. Your show’s coming on.” She hurried into the living room.
Sam spent every Sunday night from February through April with her best friend and manager, Jade Ramos, watching her hit sci-fi series, Gemini. Well, Jade watched. Sam usually had her earbuds in listening to music and checking fans’ reactions on social media. Neither she nor their friend Emma, who also starred on the show, could stomach watching themselves on-screen. However, tonight was the season finale, and a quick peek may not be out of the question. Sam’s character, Commander Calleah “Callie” Jenkins, was consummating her relationship with fan-favorite Ophelia Beck. #Calliope had been trending for a season and a half.
Jade grabbed the TV remote. “I think a lot of people are going to lose their shit tonight, my friend.”
Sam hunkered down on the couch next to Jade. “I don’t think it’ll be that bad.”
“Ten bucks says it’s a shitstorm.”
“You’re on. Jackson and the other writers think everyone will love the fact that they hook up.”
“Oh, they’ll love the hookup. They ain’t gonna love what comes next. The fan base is gonna go fucking ballistic.”
“I’m getting you a swear jar,” Sam threatened, “and it’s gonna be a buck for every f-bomb. And then I’m donating it to charity.”
“A buck? What happened to a quarter?”
“Inflation.”
As the opening credits started to roll, Sam’s phone rang. “It’s Emma.” She hit the speaker button. “Hey, E.”
“Hey, bitches, I’m at the gate. Open up.”
Jade hustled over to push the gate button and returned to the couch. “After six months, you’d think she’d remember the damn code.”
“I love her, but she barely remembers her lines.”
A minute later the door flew open, and a breathless Emma ran in. “Did I miss the sex?”
Jade cocked an eyebrow. “Well, somebody’s excited. Hurry. It’s starting.”
“I need a drink.” Emma jogged into the kitchen and froze. “Whoa! What happened in here?”
“Sam made dip.”
“Why’s it on the ceiling?”
“Because Sam made dip.”
Pasadena
“I think this is it!” Alex Novato sat on the floor in front of the couch with her dog, Yogi, nestled in beside her. “You guys are gonna miss it.” She cranked the volume on the remote.
Alex’s older sister, Lenna, and her wife, Sophia, hustled in from the kitchen and plopped onto the sofa behind Alex.
“Finally, after two seasons,” Lenna said.
All eyes locked on the screen as Ophelia tugged Callie closer and kissed her softly on the lips. They ripped at each other’s clothing, and soon their naked bodies pressed against each other on the hard ground inside the cave.
“Yeah, baby!” Alex and Lenna shared a high five as the show went to commercial.
Sophia sighed. “The actresses have such great chemistry. You don’t see that much with two women on TV.”
“Sam Cassidy is my favorite actress,” Lenna gushed. “Goddamn, she’s hot.”
“I wouldn’t kick her out of bed,” Alex agreed.
“I guess not. She’s just your type. All blond haired and blue eyed.”
“And she’s got curves in all the right places—”
“Okay, you two, stop drooling,” Sophia said. “And stop objectifying her. Now, be quiet. It’s coming back on.”
The sisters exchanged a sheepish look.
“Sorry, babe, you’re right,” Lenna said.
The mood at the Novato house changed dramatically as the next scene unfolded, their euphoria over the kiss short-lived. Lenna and Sophia gawped at the screen as the ending credits rolled.
“Wow, no more shipping Calliope,” was all Alex could manage.
Sophia finally found her voice. “They had sex, and then they killed her? How could they do that?”
Alex slumped against the couch. “Assholes. ‘Bury the gays’ trope strikes again.”
West Hollywood
As the episode ended, Sam and Emma sniffled and wiped their eyes while a stoic Jade checked her phone.
“Well?” Sam asked.
“Holy hell, it’s Armageddon. Twitter’s blowing up. Would you like to hear from your fans?”
“Oh God. Go ahead.” Sam’s stomach muscles clenched.
“Let’s see. @calliopeforever says, ‘What the hell was that?’ And @calliopeshipper wrote, ‘Why are they always killing the lesbians?’ @ishipcalliope tweeted, ‘I will never watch this show again!’ It goes on and on and on. You owe me ten bucks.”
Sam slapped the arm of the couch. “I knew it! I told them not to kill her off. I begged them not to do it.” She collapsed against the back of the sofa and pinched the bridge of her nose as uneasiness settled in her gut. The next few weeks would be challenging. An angry fan base could damage the show.
Jade continued to scroll. “What a fucking nightmare.”
Sam cleared her throat and extended a hand.
Glaring, Jade sat back with crossed arms. “Fuck that.”
Sam put both hands out and wiggled her fingers.
Jade sighed as she reached into a pocket and grabbed a five-dollar bill. “Change?”
“No. I’ll keep a tab.”
“Why does she owe money?” Emma asked.
“I’m charging a buck for every f-bomb,” Sam said.
“Oh. She’s gonna need more than a five-dollar bill.”