2 Fanging Out With A Friend

The next night when entering the film set, your friend, Diana, walks up to you to fill you in on all the latest gossip, "Kat! Kat, you're not gonna believe this! It's Barney! Ya know, the shorter producer with the squinty eyes and smushed up lookin' face? Well, evidently he's come down with the same bug George got! It's goin' around I tell you. But how to you think they got it in the first place? It's not like you see them hangin' around each other all the time bein' all buddy buddy."

As Diana stops to take a breath you take the opportunity to offer up a plausible explanation, knowing full well that suggesting it to Diana would most definitely ensure that it will become a set-wide agreed truth by the end of the night, "Perhaps they shared a girl. Everyone knows how they are with women."

"You've got a point there," Diana continues, "Oh, there was another thing I wanted to tell you about. Do you remember that Gerald guy from yesterday? George's stand-in that acted like a real tool? Well, some people have been saying that he went missing last night. Not even his wife can get ahold of him. It's like he's just vanished off the face of the earth. Well, good riddance. I can't believe he even has a wife. I can't imagine any reason she would ever stay with him!"

"Perhaps it's because of his family, they are rumored to be quite rich," you supply.

"It must be!" Diana exclaims, then suddenly remembering the more important gossip, "So which of the girls do you think it was that got both George and Barney sick?"

"Who knows? Those circles overlap so much I don't believe anyone would know where to begin," you remark.

"It's got ta be one that they've both had recently. Do ya think it could be-?" Diana starts.

"Katherine! You need to be in hair and makeup!" Liz, one of the production assistants, screeches at you, cutting off Diana and making you look in her direction.

You turn back to Diana and roll your eyes, "The banshee is wailing so I better get going before someone dies."

Diana gives a short laugh, "Don't let me keep you! I better get going too, the set isn't going to set itself." She laughs once more at her own joke before bustling away to gather and spread more gossip. As Diana goes to populate even more tittle-tattle, you swivel around into the direction of the Winnebago where the costumes are kept to get dressed before hurrying over to where your hair and make-up artists are waiting.

After another long day on set of having to put up with the inconvenience of the infuriating fraud fangs and taste of the obnoxious faux blood, you go out with Diana to your regular bar to throw back a few drinks. Since you fed just last night you're not starving for a meal, but that doesn't mean you're not still attracted to all the tasty looking treats all around you. The drinks help you to forget the ever present hunger you feel, dulling the craving until its more of an afterthought than an immediate impulse.

Diana finds herself a man early on and takes to grinding on him for the remainder of the night, with plenty of breaks to guzzle down as many drinks as she can get on the lucky man's dime. You, on the other hand, sit quietly at the bar; sometimes chatting politely with the bartender or another of the patrons sitting around you, sometimes drinking drinks as fast as they come out, but always refusing any offer to dance from anyone who asks.

Diana always says that you're going to end up alone at this rate but dancing with anyone is always out of the question - unless you're planning on making them dinner afterwards. The dance floor is always crowded with people, so much so that they're like sardines in a can - all of them moving around, sweet moisture dripping from every pore in their body like a sugary glaze, their hearts pumping fast and strong and pulsating the veins at the base of their throats. It's all just too tempting for you; it's almost too much to just sit here at times with the delectable scents of the dancing bodies wafting into your nostrils at regular intervals. It would be too much, if not for the drinks.

You sit at the bar until just before sunrise, assisting Diana home before scurrying back to your own apartment, thankful that you don't have work tonight. When you reach your basement apartment you lay yourself down onto your bed and twist on your bedside lamp, picking up the book you've been reading in your free time. It's some type of romance novel, the same story that you've read thousands of times before, and the lead female is just beginning to try things on her own without a man when she gets into trouble again and has to have the male lead come and save her again. You start to grow weary and irritated by this cliché and decided a nap would be a better choice to pass the time, despite not needing sleep to function.