by T. C. Clover
share something painful from their past? All five of your co-stars signed the same contract as you, and they’ll be giving us the gritty details of their most painful experiences. I need you to understand that you don’t have a choice on this one. The only thing you can do is control the narrative of the story when you’re telling it live. So why don’t you go think on that for a few days? There’s a way to present yourself as the hero somewhere in all of this. You just need to reach deep inside of that little gut of yours and pull out the version you want to share.”
Jazzy got up from her chair and stared at the director with an expression of hatred and confusion. The comedian folded her arms with angst and walked over to the windows at the corner of his office.
Mike looked thinner than normal in a tan leisure suit with a green silk tie. The director watched the comedian as she pouted in a striped blue and white blouse with her back turned halfway toward him. Jazzy stood tall in a pair of purple high heels, which were somewhat obscured by her faded blue jeans.
Mike felt his secondary phone ringing in a hidden pocket of his jacket, causing his neck to tingle with the dangers that the call might manifest. He retrieved the unit and looked at the black screen of the phone, seeing a dreaded call coming in that he could not ignore.
“Look, Jazzy, this is our pilot for today’s flight,” Mike announced with a phony smile and dismissive hand gesture. “You have a lot to think about. Why don’t you take some time before we leave?”
“I can wait,” the perceptive female insisted, turning to look at the black satellite phone in his right hand with curiosity.
“Look, I need you to take some time to yourself while I handle our travel arrangements,” he said with growing eagerness, gesturing for her to depart from his office.
“That’s not our pilot, is it?” She asked with a piercing look in her eyes.
“No, it’s not!” He agreed with reluctance. “Now get out of my office and give me some privacy! Hello.” The director answered his phone and stood up to walk Jazzy out of his workspace.
When the comedian was just over the threshold, Mike slammed the door and locked it behind her, and she heard him begin a muffled conversation through the thick door.
Jazzy saw Jennifer Priest after exiting the office, and she glared at the producer with concentrated rage. This awkwardness caused the tall blonde to show confusion, and she marched toward the television star with an air of concern.
“What’s going on, Jazzy?” Jennifer pried in a condescending tone, sounding like a firefighter that was hoping to combat a light blaze.
“Mike is talking on his secret black sat’ phone,” Jazzy conveyed with irritation as she continued to move towards her bedroom. “You know, the secret sat’ phone that everyone knows about?”
“He got a call on the black phone?” The producer inquired with a gaze of suspicion as she stopped walking.
“Yes, what is it with you guys and your couriers and sat’ phones?” The comedian demanded as she halted to confront the blonde, placing her hands on her hips in disgust.
“I don’t know what you’re speaking about,” the producer lied without much effort, seeming preoccupied with the news of the phone call.
“Oh seriously, Jennifer, you think we all don’t know about that creepy redhead who comes here once or twice a week?” She began a torrent of accusations. “You get packages and phone calls at all hours-“
“Look, I’m sure this may come as a shock to you, Jazzy, but Mike and I are adults,” Jennifer stated to diffuse the conversation before it could mushroom any further. “Why don’t you get ready for our trip to Houston? Our jet is leaving the tarmac in about three hours. In the meantime, unless they create laws against receiving phone calls and packages, then I’ll thank you in advance to mind your own damn business! Thank you.” The tall blonde stomped away from Jazzy en route to Mike’s office, touting an expression of wickedness as she went to emphasize her point.
“This is frickin’ fantastic!” Jazzy announced to the television crew in the hallway as she stared at the blank walls. “I’m working on a show with a couple of urban drug dealers. ‘Just get on the jet everyone and be ready to bare your souls to the world. By the way, we’re making a quick stop in Colombia – not the university,’” she mocked with a clenched fist and struck a pose for those watching at home.
LaGuardia Airport – New York
One could not have wanted a sexier private jet for luxury travel. The television network operated under a parent company with assets in excess of a hundred billion dollars. Therefore, the company jet was a sleek, black model that seemed to have been designed by the makers of Ferrari sports cars. The cast members were in awe as they rolled their suitcases across the runway on the private side of the airport.
Litz was wearing her best black Audrey Hepburn throwback gown as she strutted through the vast outdoor space of LaGuardia Airport. All three of the men from the show were dressed in matching black suits with orange silk ties to impress the NASA people upon arrival. However, the three women had refused to wear similar outfits, so the director gave them a stipend to buy new clothing. Jazzy had selected the latest fashion, a baby blue dress that featured a furry hoodie, which was preferred by many younger girls. As her polar opposite, Fassim had chosen a lime green pantsuit with matching hijab. Despite their varying styles, each of the women agreed upon wearing a new line of high heels called Snarky Nitch, in colors that matched their outfits.
“I can’t allow these on the plane, sir,” a gray-haired pilot said to Mike in a respectful manner. “They don’t have any tags to prove that they went through TSA checkpoints.” The older man finished his statement by gesturing with his right hand at ten black freight containers that were stacked on the runway.
“Okay, no problem,” Mike reassured the pilot as the group of cast members wheeled their suitcases past the two men toward the plane. “Just get into the jet and start prepping us for our flight; I don’t want to be late for NASA. Please remember that we need to be airing the show live from Houston right on time.”
“All right, I’ll get us ready,” the pilot replied with a smile of relief, “and I’m sorry about you having to leave your freight behind.”
“No worries, brother, just get my show off the road,” the director mused with a wink and a handshake.
The eager pilot followed his orders and jogged ahead of the cast to ascend the stairs and enter the jet. When the man disappeared into the aircraft, Mike whistled to their security detail and signaled the men to begin loading the freight. Jazzy thought about protesting, but then remembered the threat that Jennifer had issued regarding privacy.
When the cast members entered the jet, they were immersed in a world of luxury and style. There was a full bar in the back that was visible from the seating area. Each of the sixteen seats were overstuffed and upholstered in tan leather. The rows were also spaced far enough apart to allow for reclining leg rests. Their accommodations included a 3D hologram movie theater screen, digital real sound speakers, personal music players, and various refrigerators filled with gourmet snacks. On either side of the cabin were two small desks with reading lights and computers that had Internet access. The carpet was made of a white plush material, and all of the controls in the cabin were inlayed under shiny black carbon fiber coverings.
Everyone appeared thrilled by the accommodations except for Jazzy and Stoney. The two stars seemed preoccupied with something regarding the trip, and the comedian kept glancing out the window at the freight that was being loaded.
“What the hell are we carrying?” The skeptical woman asked with a sneer, wondering if she should have made a bigger issue about the freight, or alerted the pilot.
Ellington Airport – Houston, Texas
The weather in Houston was hot and humid, and the weekly forecast didn’t offer much hope of a
reprieve. All six cast members were met at Ellington Airport by two NASA road shuttles; no doubt labeled as such for the simple irony. They took a short twenty-minute drive from the airport to the space station and were dropped off at the executive offices of NASA to begin their tour. Litz froze when she saw the ominous Memorial Towers that dominated the Houston skyline, casting shadows over the city during the early afternoon.
Joseph Kerr stood just inside the lobby of the Space Center Houston executive offices with his hands on his hips. He displayed a nervous confidence as the television stars filed in through the glass doors of the NASA executive office complex. Litz bit her lower lip when she noticed that Jason Harrington was standing to the right of Joseph. The attractive astronaut kept his hands clasped together over his pelvis with a professional smile that one might see in a stock photo or shopping catalog. His senior-level colleague had selected a much more chic suit than the younger astronaut, wearing a cream-colored Italian ensemble with a cranberry silk tie. The older man’s hair was graying in a healthy pattern, but still short enough to pull off the spiked style that he had chosen.
“Welcome to Houston, everyone,” Joseph greeted his guests with a throaty Texas accent and inviting blue eyes. “I hope ya’ll don’t mind if Jason gives you the tour today; I’m afraid I have some