by Thomas, Ian
“Yeah.” The young woman suspiciously glanced between Hayley and the male student she was with.
“You’re late. Everyone else was here at six-thirty.” Hayley felt her frustration with Dylan, Mitch, and life in general fueling her strop. And she was okay with that. “They’ve gone up.”
“Are you the doorman? Door-person?”
“Right now, I’m buzzer bitch. Emphasis on the bitch. So maybe you want to get inside and get started.”
“It’s just…our talent hasn’t arrived yet. I wanted to be set up before they got here.”
“How long?” Hayley asked.
“I said seven-thirty but you know how actors can be,” the girl replied.
“Just go.”
They rode the elevator in silence. Hayley’s mood only changing when she stepped out into Eddie’s loft. The word ‘wow’ did the apartment a disservice. White walls and ceiling with a pale wooden floor that seemed to stretch on forever. The only contrast was the row of dark cast-iron columns that ran floor to ceiling the length of the apartment, seven in total. Very minimalist in décor, the furniture was elegant and unobtrusive while the three or four simple additions for color on the floor or walls were vintage. And knowing Eddie’s approximate age, Hayley knew they would be genuine articles. To the right were a line of large windows that ran the length of the loft to the corner and continued around into the dining room and kitchen.
Eddie’s loft was the whole top floor of the six-story building in SoHo.
And he’d opened it to college kids.
Idiot.
“Hey,” he smiled, appearing from the left. “You must be Naomi. And Wes?”
“Hi,” Naomi said, clearly impressed by the loft. The guy, equally impressed, nodded.
Eddie leaned in to kiss Hayley on the cheek. She felt the heat of him, and woodiness of his aroma.
“Through here.” He gestured to where he had come from.
Naomi turned back to see Eddie taking Hayley’s coat, their proximity intimate. “And you’ll buzz the actors in?”
“Of course,” Hayley said, wanting the girl to leave.
Soon enough a door closed behind them and Hayley was alone with Eddie in the loft.
“You own the building don’t you?” she asked finally as he led her to the kitchen.
“Yes.
“Then why didn’t you put the coffee shop downstairs? Great neighborhood for it.”
“Because I didn’t want to have a bunch of college students making noise downstairs from where I live.”
“Bad news, because tonight you’re gonna have a whole bunch of college students making noise upstairs from where you live.”
He shook his head in dismay and fetched two glasses from a cupboard, then the wine. Hayley sat on a stool beside the central kitchen island and watched him cook, the conversation flowing easily.
XXII
As suspected, the film shoot went badly.
No one but Mouth and Drew knew what they were doing. Not that they questioned the other students’ education. They were all at NYU after all. What the other students lacked was the practical application.
Playing back the first test shots, Drew and Mouth looked at one another wordlessly. They weren’t sure if anyone else on the rooftop saw it, but the picture quality was terrible.
“Let’s just get our roles perfect and she can’t complain,” Drew said, backing away from Mouth and making a gesture as though he were washing his hands. Soon all Mouth could see was Drew’s pearly whites smiling in the night.
“So how do you know this guy?” Naomi asked casually. An hour had passed and progress was slow.
“He’s a friend,” Mouth replied curtly. He wasn’t sure how to make the connections as such. From the moment she had arrived Naomi had gushed about the apartment and how rich Eddie must be. Mouth bit his tongue. No good was going to come of telling her to mind her own business. Within minutes she had created at least four excuses to venture downstairs – bathroom, water, bathroom again, and to remind Hayley to buzz up the actors. From there she had concocted an idea that she would personally thank Eddie for the use of the rooftop once everyone left.
“You’re bad,” Christy said, clinking her wine cooler against Naomi’s. Yup, they’d brought wine coolers, Mouth thought with disgust.
Hearing Naomi had plans to sleep with Eddie – a scenario Mouth really wanted to see play out, especially with Hayley downstairs – Wes had lost all interest in his DP duties.
Hence the terrible picture quality.
Obviously he hadn’t got the same memo as Mouth and Drew about being professionals.
“So like are you close friends?”
“Don’t say ‘besties’,” Mouth pleaded under his breath, eyes shut tightly.
“Besties?”
Realizing she wasn’t going to leave the matter alone, Mouth wondered what he could say. Passing Eddie off as his roommate’s boss was weak. Saying that he had saved Mouth’s life – among others – when a demonic cult had tried to summon a demon into his co-worker’s potential boyfriend seemed like an overshare.
“We’re friends. We know a lot of the same people and he sponsors our radio show.”
“Oh,” she replied disdainfully. He wasn’t sure what her tone signified but she left him. “Have you got the sound gear working? You do realize that sound is like fifty percent of the cinema experience.”
“Yes, I do know that. I just don’t get why I’m audio donkey when this shoot has bigger issues.”
“Don’t take that tone with me,” Naomi said sharply.
“Really?” Mouth could hear Drew in the headphones around his neck, pleading for him to stop. “What? Just because I work at WNYU sound’s the only thing I’m good at?”
“Get out! Get off my set!” Naomi declared, pointing to the edge of the building. The stairs down were in the other direction. “I don’t need some half-rate sophomore loser who thinks he’s the shit just because he works in college radio. You’re not a celebrity. Lose the ‘tude.”
“Fine.” Mouth unplugged his headphones, furious. He never saw himself as a celebrity but he didn’t deserve to be spoken to like that. Time to pull out the big guns. “Let’s see how long this shoot lasts when I tell my friend you kicked me off the set.”
“Fine.”
“Maybe if you realized that you’ve pissed off your DP, who’s giving you grainy-ass footage, this wouldn’t be such a shit fest. Right lenses buddy, wrong settings. You’re not gonna be able to do any of the effects with that much grain. But then what do I know, I’m just the sound guy.”
As he turned to leave, Drew got in front of Naomi. “You need him.”
“Bullshit! You can go too you know.”
“No, really, you need him,” Drew said. As the rest of the pretty people gathered to defend Naomi, Drew told her who Mouth really was. Their class had watched and critiqued Mouth’s high school documentary about the kid who brought a gun to school and the effect on the community. Their lecturer and TA had praised the doco for technical and narrative proficiency hoping the students would find the film aspirational.
XXIII
Downstairs, Hayley was enjoying herself.
The wine was divine, the conversation playful, and the meal perfect. If she hadn’t seen him cook it in front of her she’d have thought he’d ordered it from a Michelin star restaurant. And given their surroundings that was not out of the question.
“At my age,” he joked. “I’ve had a long time to get good in the kitchen.”
“Uh, seared scallops with some bacon thing I can’t pronounce and deconstructed duck a l’orange. Pretty sure you passed ‘good in the kitchen’ a few decades back,” Hayley said, still savoring the taste of the meal.
“You liked it?” Eddie asked nervously.
“I want to marry that meal. In fact that meal might just get lucky tonight.”
He laughed and topped up her wine glass. As he poured he cocked his head to one side. She’d grown up on enough re-runs o
f Lassie not to question what that meant. She just wasn’t going to say anything.
“What is it?”
“Mouth. Having a fight with the director,” Eddie replied. “And I think he’s holding back.”
“He’s not in a good headspace right now,” Hayley said. “He probably shouldn’t be up there.”
“Sounds like he won’t be for long.”
“Shit.”
“Why? What’s up with him?” Eddie asked. They were sitting at the long wooden table beside the kitchen, Eddie at the head and her to his left.
Sighing, she launched into the incident between Mitch and Jason, filling in the blanks from what Mouth had told her with what she’d deduced from the encounter with Mitch.
“That’s too bad,” he said finally.
“Hello? Understatement.”
“Oh, no, totally. I’m not being obtuse,” he replied. “Just that Jason’s thinks he knows what he’s looking for, but he doesn’t. And Mitch likes the attention. He just can’t handle it when something is demanded of him.”
“Not obtuse at all,” Hayley said impressed.
“And right now, they’re both completely raw. Jason would’ve built Mitch up to be something he was never capable of being. You know, really shoved him on that pedestal. So when it didn’t happen, that whole thing would have crashed down on him. As for Mitch, well I imagine he wishes he’d known how to deal with it better, smoothly, not lose a friend over it.”
“Wow,” Hayley said. “You know all this and yet I barely see you at the coffee shop.”
“Remember that whole age thing? Yeah, you get good at people as well.”
Explain Sarah, Hayley had wanted to scream, explain how being ‘good at people’ got you into a relationship with her.
“Maybe you should be at the coffee shop more often then.” Smoothing her hands on her pants, she felt that was a better option than throttling some sense into the gorgeous man. “They’re kinda your family you know.”
“Really?” he asked, clearing their plates away.
“You don’t see it?”
“Remember – barely at the coffee shop?”
“Then maybe don’t be so absent father.”
“What?”
“Your assessment of Jason and Mitch. I totally agree. Two sides to every story, but that’s the stuff they could do with hearing.” She had turned in her chair to face him. “Play papa bear to them. They’re like your kids after all.”
He laughed, rinsing the dishes and tidying the kitchen.
“Unless you sired some wolves we don’t know about.”
“Nope,” he said, collecting another bottle of wine from the cupboard.
“How come?” she asked.
“Just…I don’t know,” he replied uncomfortably, heading to the couches rather than the table. Hayley took his cue and followed. “Guess Ben being such a shitty sire made it less than appealing. Besides there was always someone around.”
She said nothing, merely tucking herself up on the couch and looking at him expectantly. He took the hint and delved into his past, realizing there had been very few women in his long life he could have been so honest with. He liked the feeling.
XXIV
Mouth wasn’t about to leave. For the most part he knew he’d over reacted and she had every right to kick him off the set. Professionally, he’d acted up. They both had. But it was her shoot, her project, and her set – she could run it how she liked.
Sitting on the ledge and looking out over the neighborhood, Mouth wanted to leave but knew things would just blow up for him if he did. And it wouldn't be fair to Drew. Naomi was popular among students and seemed to be liked by the faculty. She was shooting a major project in late September when most of her peers wouldn’t start for another month at least. When all accounts of the shoot were laid out, she’d come out much shinier than he would.
That knowledge frustrated him.
He just didn’t feel connected to anything lately.
And now with Jason cutting him out, life was starting to suck.
Hardly contemplating jumping, Mouth looked at the buildings around him. He hadn’t spent a lot of time in SoHo. Wasn’t really his scene being a working-class kid from upstate New York. His comfort factor was non-existent. So much money and very little sense.
Like this guy, Mouth decided, seeing a figure on the lower rooftop of an adjoining building. Just casually hanging out there, watching the neighbors, getting his pervert on. Not that he could talk. But he at least had a purpose. This guy was just standing there. This guy was–
“Ben,” Mouth breathed.
Getting up, he started across the roof to the fire escape when Naomi stopped him.
“Hey, good, you didn’t leave.”
“I’m a dick, but I’m not that much of a dick.”
“Thanks.” The word sounded awkward from her mouth. “Hey, we’re gonna be good to go soon, Wes is just trying to reconfigure the camera.” He could tell she wanted to ask him but couldn’t bring herself to do it.
“Get Drew to help,” Mouth said. “He shot at night last semester. He’s a genius in low-light.”
“Where’re you going?” she said, her temper simmering below the surface.
“Uh,” he replied, then touched the headphones still around his neck. “Mic’s picking something up. Just wanna check it out and, ya know, stop it so it doesn’t ruin your film.”
“Thanks.” This time the gratitude was genuine and a little stunned. She wasn’t to know he had lied or that his headphones were not actually plugged into anything.
“No problem,” he said. “What I’m here for. Back soon.”
While Drew fought Wes over the camera settings, Christy continued drinking, and Naomi contemplated her lead actor wearing tights as a possible bedmate, Mouth slipped onto the fire escape. He started down two flights and crossed to the other building. Seeing Ben standing there, Mouth remembered all the pain he had caused – selling out McLachlan, betraying Matteo, and the scene at the funeral.
Not to mention how much of an asshole he was.
“Stalk much?” Mouth asked.
“Fuck off Mouth!” Ben said, not turning around.
“Good to see some things don’t change.”
“You got a purpose here little man?” Ben finally turned around, his face mean.
“Do you?” Mouth countered quickly. “See there’ve been a couple of bodies turn up. One at the Daily Grind as you know. And one at Matteo’s business. As you know.”
“Hadn’t heard, but not a stretch to see all the fingers pointing at me.”
“Well, you are kind of a sociopathic fucktard.”
“And you’re a mortal nineteen-year-old with nothing going for him but a reckless mouth,” Ben said. “Four inches.”
“What’s that now?”
“Four inches,” Ben repeated, soberly. “That’s the average length of the human tongue. Two-thirds of that is the front portion, the part I would grab to rip out. Lotta strength needed as four muscles form the root of the tongue. Quite a broad base but pretty sure I can do it. I was a doctor before I was a cop.”
“Helluva a bedside manner I’m sure.”
“I love the poetry of it. The Mouth That Was.”
“That supposed to scare me?” Mouth asked, holding his ground. “I know you can kill me. I’m not an idiot. And as for torturing me – well, I wouldn’t expect any less. Especially after what you let them do to Matteo.” A flicker on Ben’s face showed Mouth the right buttons to push. “Way I heard it Rowan buried your sorry ass under a pile of rubble. Meanwhile your fuck-buddy Julie decided she wanted to see what Matteo looked like without skin.” Seeing Ben flinch, Mouth smiled and began to pace bravely. “That’s right, she flayed him. See, I didn’t think that was an actual thing. I mean I know it is, or was, back in the day. But to see it – limbs without skin, exposed muscle like that. Well, I guess you’d know, being a doctor and all. Takes a special kind of scary to do that to another being.”
> Ben moved before Mouth registered it. His fist caught on Mouth’s ribs, lifting him off his feet. Then down on his back. Pain blazed brightly throughout his body. He was struggling to breathe.
Ben stood over him.
“The silver. The stuff you’d injected. Stopped his healing,” Mouth coughed, blood in his throat. One kick, then another to his guts. Mouth tumbled across the rooftop. Ignoring the pain to focus on Ben’s, Mouth felt his adrenaline pumping. “Rowan spent days getting that out of his system. All the while he couldn’t heal. Bones broken, skin flayed, jaw dislocated. Did I mention one of his eyes had been torn out?”
Ben roared, lunging forward. His hand gripped the boy’s neck, while the other tried to force his jaw apart.
“Ben!”
Eddie collided with Ben, pulling him away from Mouth. Sickened, Mouth wretched. Blood mixing in with his stomach contents.
“Well that got your attention,” Ben spat, shoving Eddie off him.
“Have I got yours?” Eddie tackled Ben, throwing him down. Before Ben could get up, Eddie kicked him a couple of times in the gut and once in the head. Then Eddie scooped his sire up and threw him against the wall of the adjoining building.
“Always were a scrappy fighter.” Ben staggered to his feet. He stepped forward, his claws extended but Eddie was ready for him. Punch after punch after punch struck Ben either side of his head.
“Need a weapon?” Mouth asked.
“No!” Eddie shouted, his eyes changed and canines extended. Mouth could see fur trimming the man’s face, his bulk larger than normal. “Idiot.”
“What I said,” Ben laughed, wiping blood from his lips. “B-but harsher.”
“Shut up!” Eddie stood over his sire, shaking. “You ruined us. You selfish fuck!”
“Let me call McLachlan,” Mouth said. As Ben started to laugh harder, Eddie turned his attention on Mouth, more of the wolf showing through.
“This wasn’t your fight.”
“Don’t tell me this wasn’t my fight.” Mouth pointed at Eddie’s building, furious. “Hayley’s in there. You assholes made this our fight.”