Chapter 8: Last I Heard

Casey blinked her bleary eyes and padded into the kitchen. She tied back her hair loosely, messily, just enough to keep it out of her face while she poured her mix of cornflakes and ancient grains.

Kimiko stumbled out of her own bedroom still wearing last night's clothes. She went straight for the strawberry Pop-Tarts, but the box was empty.

Tilting her glasses, Kimiko shook the box like there was one last packet hidden in one corner. She peered into the empty box to make doubly sure.

Kimiko sighed and opened the pack of birthday cake-flavored Pop-Tarts. An accidental purchase, not her favorite kind, but better than nothing.

They sat down in their little dining nook, then began eating and scrolling on their phones. They'd been inseparable best friends for five years, and roomies nearly as long. A comfortable morning silence was their jam.

...Which was shattered by a great banging upon their apartment door.

Kimiko groaned, both concerned and immediately pissed off at once.

Casey grunted an interrogative. She knocked some cornflake crumbs off her old flannel pee-jays and crossed to the front door.

She checked the peep hole.

What she saw did not improve her mood. Not one bit.

Grumbling low in her throat, Casey opened the front door.

Ade came bursting into the apartment, followed by two camera operators and a sound tech. They were already recording.

"Excellent!" Ade boomed. "Are we rolling? Case, can you get back in bed so we can film you waking up? Oh boy, you look rough in the morning. No problem, I can work with that. Quick quesh: can you put on some makeup first, and then get back into bed?"

Casey was only able to manage an exhausted, "Bro."

Kimiko stood up from the dining table, eyes blazing. "Who's invasion-ing my home! Ade? Is that you? What the feezy are you doing here?"

All smiles, Ade came deeper into the apartment. His camera crew spread out, getting all the unflattering angles of Casey and Kimiko in their pee-jays and robes.

"It's so funny you should ask," he said. "Remember just the other day, Case, we were discussing how we'd both like to do something different than horror, just to shake things up a little?"

Casey rubbed her eyes. "Bro..."

"So this friend of Marnie's, you know Marnie, the exec who's been championing my cycle of Ape-Man films. Number five just got green-lit, by the way. 'Ape-Man vs the Doomsday Cult.' Working title. More ambitious than the earlier ones, more nuanced, more mature. I'm tackling some interesting social issues--"

"Ade!" Kimiko smashed her half-eaten pop-tart down on the table. "For the love of Pete!"

"Sorry, look, you know I got the gift of gab, it's who I am, don't shame me." Ade waved his arms and sucked in a quick breath, gulping just enough air to rattle off another barrage of words. "Okay-okay-okay, point is Marnie's got this friend. Big tall oak of a man, and he says he's producing this new show all about you, Case."

Casey leaned against the wall, and rested her head against a framed print of Hokusai's "The Great Wave."

"Tremaine," she muttered.

Ade snapped his fingers. "That's the guy. He said you might be more comfortable working with someone you already know and trust. That's me!"

Pushing off the wall, Casey said, "Last I heard, you fired me, then uninvited me to the wrap party."

"Well, last I heard, you told me to piss up a rope. But who's counting?" Ade shrugged. "It's water under the bridge anyway, ancient history."

"It was a couple days ago!" Casey stormed back to the dining room table, and took a big swig of kombucha. It hit hard, and her eyes watered.

Ade followed her, arms wide in an attempt to appear magnanimous. "Case, if it makes ya feel better, we didn't even have a wrap party. Couldn't afford it. I hear a few people met up at Arby's, though I'm not sure. I didn't go. Roast beef gives me the toots."

Kimiko crossed her arms over herself. "So now you're a reality TV director?"

"Listen, I'll direct an orchestra of ex-con kazoo players if the pay's good. And this gig pays real good. Tremaine's got a big name, and he's sparing no expense on this thing." Ade slapped his forehead. "Shoot, which reminds me!"

Casey and Kimiko took a step back as Ade slapped some legal forms onto their dining room table.

"Case already signed all her paperwork," said Ade. "Without her agent present, which I strongly recommend against. Shame on you. You really should've had your agent with you when you signed the contracts."

"I'm between agents right now," Casey said.

"Oh." Ade shifted gears. "Anyway, Kimiko, I need you to sign these releases. You two are attached at the hip, so I assume you're going to be a part of the show."

Kimiko flipped through the pages, skimming the legalese. She scowled.

Watching her, Ade said, "This is a great opportunity for all of us. This show hits it big and we're next-level overnight. I might be able to double the budget on my next Ape-Man film... And maybe even afford to repair the Big Rig."

Ade waited for Casey to react.

When she didn't, he cleared his throat. "I say, if this project works out as well as I think it will, I should be able to repair the special effect suit you so callously destroyed."

"I heard you," said Casey.

"Of course, if you'd prefer to pay for the repairs yourself, seeing as the damage was done by your own brutish hands..."

Finishing off her kombucha, Casey said, "No, you're right. I owe you an apology. I didn't realize how rough I was being with the suit, and that's my bad. Ade? I'm sorry."

He gave a brief bow. "Well, I appreciate that. Now as to the recompense--"

"My heartfelt apology is the recompense."

Ade sighed. "Ah, worth a shot. And besides the point, I suppose. I'm already getting great footage." He paced the apartment, taking it all in. "Though, something's not quite working. What is it? Hm..."

"Maybe it's you busting into our home?" Kimiko said. "Not cool."

"That's it!" Ade snapped his fingers. "You're right, this apartment is not cool at all. It's so sad and drab looking. Alright, people, shut it down! Shut it all down! We're just wasting footage. We need to find these ladies a new home."

Casey started. "Say what?"

"You two get dressed. And, for God sakes, put some makeup on. You look brutal! I'll text you your new address in an hour."

Ade and his team stormed out, slamming the front door behind them. Somehow the silence that fell over the apartment sounded crashingly loud.

Kimiko scowled at Casey. "How much are we getting paid for this?"

Casey answered, "Page eight."

Kimiko flipped to the proper page, looked it over. She quickly signed and initialed everything, then slapped the table. "I'll get dressed."