It wasn’t until I started opening the door that I realised it could’ve been someone else, someone like Will, and for the brief second it took for me to open it I had a minor panic attack.
“Oh thank God…” I muttered upon seeing Gerald standing there with a bunch of biodegradable bags, “What’s all this?”
“Food.” he said with a big smile as he shuffled his way into the flat, the bags clearly weighing him down, “I know you said you’d try and find some stuff, but I remembered you didn’t have anything in the fridge, and I texted you, but you didn’t respond, so I-”
“Stop explaining,” I said with a calm smile, his presence somehow actively soothing and quashing all of the anxiety I had, “it’s perfect. Thank you. What’d you get?”
He dumped the bags on the counter and let out a relieved breath, “Do you know how hard it is to carry all that stuff upstairs?” he laughed, “And the stuff for spaghetti. I hope that’s alright?”
“I was just thinking Italian, you wanna go sit down for a bit and I’ll get started?”
“What, and let you do all the work? Ridiculous.” he said, his smile growing as he pulled off his coat and went to hang it by the door, stopping only when he realised I didn’t have a coatrack, “What kind of person do you think I am?”
I walked over to him as he tossed his coat on the couch and rolled up his sleeves, giving him a light kiss on the cheek and hugging him tightly, “The best kind.”
After unpacking all of the groceries I discovered that he’d really gone all-out, there was the stuff needed for homemade garlic bread, real tomatoes, minced beef from the butcher, and a bottle of red cooking wine.
Cooking with Gerald that night remains one of the best nights of my life. We screwed it up, royally, and the bread caught fire at one point, but we enjoyed it anyway. The experience, not the food, the food tasted like burned arse.
We contemplated jumping back into the game after that, but after four hours of cooking, don’t judge, we were kinda spent.
A shower and five hours of sleep later there was a knock at the door, and I felt more awake than I had in ages.
“Shit!” I cursed quietly before shaking Gerald until he woke up, “Babe, wake up! I need you to get the door.”
Gerald shot up like he’d been struck by lightning, “Alright, you get in the shower, I’ll distract whoever’s there.”
“God I love you.” I said before planting a kiss on his cheek and bounding out of bed and making for the bathroom.
Five minutes later and I was out, dried, and dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and my canvas shoes. I collected myself as best as I could and stepped out to see Gerald and Griegs standing there, each with a cuppa and a smile. Griegs was wearing the skin-tight white t-shirt and black cargo pants I’d last seen him in, and he appeared to be awfully spritely for the time of morning.
“Oh,” Griegs said with the quiet and calm voice most had in the wee-hours before looking down at his watch, “you’re up early.”
I turned my gaze to my clock and felt my jaw involuntarily drop, “2:37? Why are you here at 2:37!? You were meant to get here at three!”
“Shh, keep your voice down,” he said coolly, irritating me further, “aside from that fit neighbour of yours, everyone’s in bed. Does she ever sleep?”
“With MPs? No.” I said somewhat bitterly before rubbing my eyes and shaking my head, “Sorry, I’m just… surprised is all.”
“Completely understandable, and I’m sure I could get her to break that rule.” he said with a sly but well-meaning blink, “Anyway, I was just saying to Gerald here that there’s absolutely no problem with him coming along. He may want to pop in the shower first.”
“If he still wants to.” I said with weak smile.
Gerald nodded eagerly, his cup still to his mouth as he drained its contents, “Two ticks.”
After that Gerald quickly disappeared and got started with getting himself cleaned up while I, with the movement speed of a zombie turtle, shuffled to the kettle and started getting a cup of coffee ready.
“So,” the Sergeant said, breaking the silence that I hadn’t noticed was lingering, “Gerry tells me you two are looking at moving in together?”
“Gerald,” I corrected as politely as I could while making tea and wiping away drool, the missing drowsiness from when I’d woken had apparently decided to hit me all at once, “sorry, Gerry’s his game name. But yeah, we’re looking at doing that soon.”
“Sounds exciting. How long have you been together?”
“Couple of weeks.”
That stunned Griegs silent for a few seconds, giving me some time to enjoy my cuppa while he regained his composure, “Wow, that’s… wow.”
“Yeah, we came to the conclusion that everything’s about to go bollocks up in a few short weeks, may as well make the best of it.”
“You don’t think you’re going to make the deadline?”
I scoffed and gave a defeated smile, “Do you?”
Griegs turned from concern to contemplation and I was left to wonder just how many people had actually thought about it.
Not calling everyone stupid or anything, but the fact that the second person I’d brought it up with had had pretty much the exact same reaction as the first made me curious as to if anyone was as cynical as me.
Cynical is probably the wrong word, something more like ‘aware’ would suit better, but at the same time cynicism often goes hand-in-hand with awareness, ‘specially when everything’s shit.
“I think I will.” Griegs said after a long silence, “I’ve done my part for this country, and I’ve been keeping up with my regular deposits. Yeah… I think I’ll make it.”
He didn’t seem to be talking to me, more trying to convince himself than anything, so I didn’t bother responding, and he didn’t seem to mind that.
A few minutes passed by and Gerald finally came out of my room wearing a gorgeous button-up, a cream coloured cardigan over the top, a pair of brown oxfords, and a light brown pair of trousers.
“How do I look?” my stunning boyfriend asked with a charming smile.
“Highly fuckable.” I responded, the early morning clearly affecting my ability to filter what I said.
Griegs wasn’t put off by it though, spurting out his drink into his cup and laughing at a level that I thought was just a bit over-the-top, “Quite the mouth on her, eh?”
Gerald chuckled and nodded, “Yeah, and I hope she never changes.” he said before coming over to me and planting a kiss on my cheek.
I got all warm and fuzzy and put my cup down on the bench, “Let’s go, I’m gonna be on telly you know? Can’t be late.”
Gerald rolled his eyes dramatically and smiled, “Fine, but don’t you be gettin’ all famous on me, I don’t think I could handle the lifestyle.”
“Too bad,” Griegs butted in jokingly, walking toward the door purposefully after putting his cup next to mine, “after London sees that face you’ll never get a moment alone again.”
A similar 4X4 to the one that had taken me to the press release was downstairs, but climbing into it with Griegs and Gerald was a very different experience than with the Commander and the Commissioner. For one thing we started talking from the moment we got in, and for another I had Gerald to hold my hand for the entire ride.
“Yeah, I know it’s a bit quick,” Gerald said after Griegs brought up the whole ‘moving in together’ thing again, “but I’ve talked to my landlord and he’s said provided that I get all my stuff out by Monday he’ll gladly give the lease to someone else who’s been waiting. Probably get my deposit back by Wednesday.”
“Seriously?” I asked, my eyes widening at the prospect of just that little bit more money coming our way, “I figured you’d have to give it up.”
Gerald shrugged, “My landlord’s a good man, been taking care of us in the building for ages, and is always looking to do more good.”
I cracked a smile, “S’pose we’ll have to get a coatrack then, hey?”
>
Gerald chuckled and gave a single nod, “Yeah, s’pose we will.”
“Well we can take you guys out to get one when we’re done with the interview,” Griegs joked, “but for now let’s try and keep our head in the game. You got any idea of what you’re gonna say?”
“I suppose I’ll just answer Kenneth’s questions, that’s how it normally goes on his show.”
“Be careful of that,” Griegs warned light-heartedly, “before you know it you’ll be spillin’ your guts about every little thing you’ve ever done.”
“Yeah,” I said with a weak laugh before turning to look out the window, “gotta be careful with that…”
Kylia: Chapter 6
I stepped out of the car and smiled at the quiet, dark chill that filled the air around the three of us. Something about being awake in those early hours always made me feel like I was going to have a productive day, and nothing quite gets my rocks off like a productive day. Other than maple syrup and butter soaked pancakes of course, and I mean soaked.
Why bring that up? Well on the drive over Alison had called Griegs and told him that I was allowed to have whatever breakfast I wanted, provided I ate it in five minutes, and that’s exactly what I’d chosen, I didn’t actually expect it though.
Thinking that they were probably going to give me some kind of heart rejuvenating green mix of horrible tasting death so my skin glowed while we were on air, you can imagine my surprise as Griegs, Gerald, and I stepped through the side door of the studio and were immediately bombarded with the smell of freshly cooked pancakes.
We were in a hall with black walls that appeared to be made of some kind of fabric, photos of a dozen or so famous faces lining them with doors every ten feet or so. A peppy young woman in jeans, a lovely button-up, and a headset came around the corner, a ceramic plate in hand with my delicious breakfast on it, powdered sugar having been dusted over it.
“Kylia?” she asked excitedly, “Kylia Redmond?”
I nodded and she came toward me at a speed that made me more than a little bit tense.
“Thank you for getting here so early. Griegs, could you take Gerald to the Green Room? Someone’ll come by in a few minutes to take you through.” she said before grabbing my arm and lightly dragging me along, “Come with me, we’ll get you into makeup and everything will be finished before you know it. Jane, by the way.”
I gave Griegs a concerned look and he gave me a reassuring smile that instantly calmed me down. I’d have looked at Gerald, but he seemed to be doing alright without having to worry about me.
“Nice to meet you.” I said coolly, retrieving my arm without quite jerking away like I wanted to. I’m not a huge fan of being dragged.
“Likewise,” Jane said, handing me the plate and taking a right turn that I followed, “now, are you happy to get changed? Or would you rather just wear what you’ve got on?”
I looked down at my clothes and shook my head to myself, both to the idea of staying in my home clothes as well as trying to eat the pancakes while keeping Jane’s brisk pace, “I’m happy to get changed.”
“Great,” she said in a relieved tone, “not that you look bad or anything, it’s just that we like to make sure your outfit works with Kenneth’s and the set and the furniture and blah, blah, blah. Sorry, I’m not exactly a fashion expert, but you’d be surprised how many people come here in sweatpants and near transparent white t-shirts from the thousand or so washes they’ve been through. Here we are.” she said, pulling open a door on our left and gesturing for me to go through.
My brain didn’t quite register that right away though, mostly because Jane spoke at roughly a million miles an hour and I was still trying to catch-up with what she said after ‘outfit’.
However the neurons did eventually fire and I stepped into a room that instantly made me feel lightheaded.
Jane, upon noticing this, helped guide me over to a dressing table and sitting me down in a black swivel chair not unlike one at a hairdresser, “Yeah, don’t worry, you get used to the chemicals. Best thing to do is eat before the hairspray contaminates your food. Good luck!”
Suddenly I was on my own in front of a mirror that had blinding white lightbulbs lining its edges, and was left to wonder exactly what it was I was supposed to do. After a few seconds of silent confusion I remembered the plate of delicious in my hands and dug in.
They were, in a word, perfect.
I didn’t know what it was about them, but they were the best pancakes I have ever had. I later found out that they were from this gorgeous breakfast joint in central London and cost £38 a plate. It was worth every penny though, and as I licked my lips when I was done I felt something not unlike pure ecstasy.
I like food, just one of my things.
Anyway, pretty much as soon as I finished my foodgasm two people, a man and a woman, showed up dressed in plain blue polos and tight fitting black jeans.
They weren’t very talkative, something that really surprised me, and were instead incredibly efficient. Zipping around me, standing me up, handing me clothes to try on before, after a good fifteen minutes of getting thrown around I was left with just enough makeup to touch up my features, my hair up in a stylish bun, a short black dress that made my tits look like they went up a cup size and my arse like it had been squeezed into a pair of yoga pants.
I looked hot as sin.
But my favourite, lust, would have to wait until the days of cloning had reached our society. For the moment I had things to do.
After all the pampering and final touches were finished I was practically pushed out onto a soundstage and led by the one-and-only Kenneth Darh toward the mock living room I’d grown to become quite familiar with over years of viewing. There was a fireplace that, to my dismay, simply had a green screen in the back of it, a lovely carpet, and the three comfy looking chairs spaced evenly apart, which I’d always wanted to sit in.
I hoped that I was lucky enough to get a special guest, which was who would usually fill the empty chair, wasn’t counting on it though, it had already started as one of the best days in my entire life, and wanting for anything more than what I was getting seemed greedy.
“Now,” Kenneth said, flicking his bright blonde hair out of his eyes as he adjusted his purple and blue suit jacket, “you’ve watched the show, yes?”
I nodded eagerly, “Yes, every Saturday.”
“Brilliant, so, as you know, I’ll walk around the left side of the camera, you the right, then we’ll meet in the middle, do our little handshake, and then I’ll go for the right chair, you the one next to me. All good?”
“Mmhm.”
I was so unbelievably star struck by the fact that I was in a place that had an actual lighting rig, set, and a crew, which, to be fair, was just Alison, who was significantly taller than I’d expected, her red heels that matched her short dress only accentuating the fact, and a young cameraman.
“Miss Redmond!” Alison shrieked happily, “Sorry I didn’t see you in makeup, we’ve got ourselves a new cameraman, very new, so if anything goes wrong, you can blame him.” she laughed.
Both the cameraman and I smiled along nervously, but I think we both quickly came to terms with the fact that she wasn’t being serious.
“Kenneth’s explained the entrance to you, yes?”
“Yes. It all makes sense.”
“Good, now your boyfriend and the MP you came with are going to be waiting about where we’re standing so that they can watch you and give silent emotional support. I’m going to have to ask that, whatever you do, don’t look at them when the camera’s on you.”
“Of course, it’s been hard enough fixing up my reputation as is.” I said with a half-smile.
Alison laughed at that and gave me a confident nod, “Today we’ll be fixing all that up, won’t we? Anyway, rolling in ten, so get into position. You’re going to do great.”
Kylia: Chapter 7
I can happily say that I didn’t mess up my entrance… after the third tim
e. Whatever, I’m not great at walking in heels, sue me. We weren’t exactly live either, so it really didn’t matter.
Gerald and Griegs showed up a few minutes into Kenneth and I’s interview, which was mostly asking about my childhood, starting my story from the beginning, that kind of thing, and they did well not to distract me.
After getting through the ‘getting to know you’ segment, Kenneth had called for a commercial break that was actually just a way for him to get another shot of espresso according to Jane.
“You’re doing great!” Gerald shouted just a bit too loud for comfort before dialling it back with a quiet “Sorry…”
“Not a problem,” I said with a comforting smile that removed any sign of embarrassment from Gerald’s face, “you guys get my stuff?”
Griegs nodded, “Yeah, Gerald and I took it back to the car, we thought about hanging onto it ‘til you were done, but that Jane girl let us know that if your clothes were to be ‘missing’ they’d let you keep most of it. Apparently it’s one of those things that just kept happening so they gave up on it.”
“I wouldn’t say we gave up on it,” Alison said as she came up behind us, “we just realised we were spending more money tracking the things down than what we paid for them. Your mic’s still on.” she said, apparently noticing that I briefly thought she was some kind of psychic.
“Oh! Right…” I said nervously, pushing the little button on the mic that I hadn’t even noticed they’d put on, “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine, really, we get most of it free from designers anyway, and by the time we get a new interviewee we’ve received a dozen more outfits. You’d be surprised how many people wanted to see their clothes on you.”
Hearing that was weird. That was the type of thing that got said to actresses and TV personalities, not random gamers that live in West Ham. I wasn’t exactly overinflating with ego or anything either, it was just that I felt… desired, and in the dress I was in I couldn’t blame them, it was a damn sexy dress.
Legends of Tarthirious : Books One-Four of Kylia's Story (Legends of Tarthirious (A LitRPG)) Page 36