by K. B. Draper
“Kanyon?” Kanyon jerked her head up, shocked at the sound of Daylen’s voice. “I didn’t know if you were actually going to come. They said you might, but … well, I guess I’m still surprised.”
“Yeah. You know me, always full of surprises. Surprise, I’m drunk. Surprise, I’m going to fall off my horse. Surprise, I’m going to get us both fired.” Kanyon rambled nervously, smacked herself in the forehead, then let her hand slide down her face, coming to rest over her mouth. Daylen looked at her curiously until Kanyon removed her hand and started again. “Daylen, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m just … I don’t know … I suck and you …”
Daylen reached out and softly grasped Kanyon’s forearm. “It’s okay, Kanyon,” she said with a soft smile.
Kanyon’s heart lightened a little. “It’s really not okay. I screwed up and I’m so sorry that my poor decisions affected you.”
“I appreciate the apology.” Daylen patted Kanyon’s arm. “But really–”
“But really nothing. Daylen, you should be mad at me. You should never want to speak to me again. You should cuss my name, punch me, yell at me. Do something,” Kanyon pleaded.
“Sounds like you’re punishing yourself enough for the both of us.”
“I caused you to lose your job!” Kanyon tried to invoke some kind of heated response, knowing she could deal with anger much more easily than kindness.
“Yeah, you did,” Daylen agreed.
“They threw you off a cliff in grief because of me!”
“They threw Freya off a cliff in grief because Artemisia was dead. I do have to say, I didn’t really care for that ending. I think Freya would’ve mourned deeply for sure, but she would’ve gone on to fight.”
“Artemisia died because of me,” Kanyon quickly threw out.
“Artemisia died in like 580 B.C. I think you’re being a little overdramatic and stretching this guilt thing just a bit too far,” Daylen countered.
“You know what I mean.” Kanyon sighed heavily and hung her head. “I didn’t even call you, Daylen,” Kanyon said, her voice weighed down with guilt.
“Now that, that was pretty crappy of you,” Daylen decided to say in an effort to throw Kanyon a bone, sensing she needed some kind of anger from her.
Kanyon looked up hoping for the verbal assault so she could feel better. “Way crappy. Probably one of the crappiest things I’ve ever done.”
“Ladies, we’re ready for you,” a man called out.
“We’ll be right there,” Daylen responded for them, then turned back to give another desired verbal jab, but stopped when she caught the fear and reluctance in Kanyon’s eyes. Daylen knew this had to be hard for Kanyon. She, like every other person in the world, had seen the headlines, heard the rumors about Kanyon’s continued drinking, about Lexi, about Lexi and Vance, and a few about her and Lexi. She knew at least a few of the stories had some underlying truths. She felt her own bit of guilt for not reaching out to Kanyon. She couldn’t imagine how Kanyon had dealt with it all. And now, she didn’t know what Kanyon was going to face on the other side of the stage. For the first time since Kanyon had been fired, she would be willingly exposing herself to the world again, not knowing what the price would be for them to take her back or if they would even take her back at all. Daylen reached out and grabbed Kanyon’s hand. “Ready?”
Kanyon looked down at Daylen’s hand clasping hers, forced a smile, and straightened her spine.
Daylen didn’t drop Kanyon’s hand until the waving, greeting, and cheering had subsided and they took their seats at the panel table.
For the most part, Kanyon and Daylen’s fans were loyal, true, and apparently very forgiving. There were only a few critics who threw out questions about Kanyon’s drinking, about her and Vance, or her and Lexi. Kanyon handled the questions by taking self-inflicted potshots at herself to distract the crowd with a few laughs. But most of the questions were from true fans who asked about episodes and events in which they wanted a better explanation or opinion. Many threw out hopeful questions that the unexpected and sudden ending was actually a set-up for a big plot twist or maybe a big screen movie. Then, like always, there were questions about their characters’ true relationship and familiar pressure to reveal the true depth of the feelings shared between Artemisia and Freya. Kanyon, who had always been the one to answer these questions, was prepared to give her well-rehearsed “non-answer” that would keep the fans guessing, but Daylen spoke first. She laid a hand on Kanyon’s leg and looked at her while she spoke. “I don’t know if Freya ever had a chance to tell Artemisia her true feelings or if she even knew the depth of them herself until she lost her.” Daylen winked at Kanyon. “But I do know she loved and respected her. And the love and friendship they share never ends no matter what happens to them or between them.”
Daylen’s comment sent the crowd into a frenzy as Kanyon could only look disbelievingly at Daylen. Daylen immediately turned back to the crowd and stood while thanking them for coming as she waved her good-byes. Kanyon rose as well, waving, although she was in a little frenzy herself, knowing that Daylen’s message wasn’t just to stir the imaginations of the crowd.
Kanyon had worked with Daylen for a little over five years. Though Kanyon hadn’t let down all her walls around Daylen, she considered Daylen to be one of the kindest and most giving people she knew. Daylen’s generous heart had allowed forgiveness, despite her pathetic apology. That fact was hard to swallow since Kanyon was still working on forgiving herself. Maybe she was reading into it. She ran Daylen’s comment through her mind again. Respect and love. Kanyon was shaken from her thoughts as they were swept away to a signing table where they would greet their eagerly awaiting fans.
As they got settled in, Kanyon leaned over to Daylen. “I don’t deserve–” but stopped at Daylen’s disapproving look. “Fine.”
They fell into their comfortable routine. Kanyon greeted the fans first, took the item they wished to have autographed, signed it, and then slid it to Daylen. Daylen would sign and return the item with a smile and a “thank you” for their support and loyalty, mixed with a few other niceties. It was the perfectly efficient meet, sign, and smile assembly line.
A long fifty-seven minutes later, Kanyon’s head, hand, and smile muscles were exhausted. Her patience and welcoming demeanor reserves were on empty and although she was truly grateful for her fans’ love and support, she couldn’t wait to be out of the crowd and back to the peace and quiet that she had surrounded herself in the last few months.
Kanyon found one more smile for the last guy in line. “Hey there, big guy. What’s your name?” she asked the walking, talking beanpole of a guy who was sporting thick-rimmed glasses and an “I “heart” The Dark Savior” T-shirt under a fly-fisherman’s vest.
“Theodore Eugene Wincliff the third,” he replied, smiling widely as he handed her one of the books that had been published alongside the TV series.
“Of course it is.” Kanyon swallowed a small chuckle.
“But you can call me Thor,” he quickly interjected.
Daylen caught Kanyon’s expression, which was lit with amusement. “Don’t even think about it,” Daylen growled under her breath.
“What?” Kanyon questioned in her perfect portrayal of innocence, her pen poised over the book’s inside cover.
“Excuse us just a minute,” Daylen said to Theodore as she grabbed Kanyon’s arm and spun them out of earshot of the eager fan. “DO NOT write whatever you’re thinking about writing in his book. He’s the last guy. Please just stick with thanks for being a fan.”
Kanyon furrowed her brows. “Now what makes you think I was going to write something inappropriate?”
“Ohhhh I don’t know, because you always get slaphappy at the end of signings when you’re tired and bored. And because you have the same shit-eating grin and evil gleam in your eye as you did when you wrote “How do you get Chewbacca fur out of your teeth?” to the chick dressed as slutty Princess Leia a couple years ago. And
the time you wrote “Spock got space crabs from Uranus” to the rude Trekie guy.”
Kanyon laughed. “Come on. He was totally–”
Daylen punched her in the arm. “You just have one guy left. Just one more short and simple signing with no rude comments. I know you can do it. Just behave a few more minutes.”
“Okay, fine. Geez,” Kanyon agreed, rubbing her arm as if Daylen’s punch actually hurt. “I won’t make any funny–”
Daylen raised her fist again, threatening another punch in the arm.
“Fine. Geez, any rude comments.” Kanyon turned back to Theodore and smiled. “Sorry about that.” She took her pen to his book and then handed it to Daylen.
To Theodork. Daylen looked up and met Kanyon’s playful eyes.
“You said no rude comments. You didn’t say anything about salutations,” Kanyon said as a simple explanation.
Daylen gave Kanyon a chastising look then took her pen to the k making it look like an e as best as she could. She added her own inscription and handed the book back to Theodore.
Theodore read the inscriptions, then eyes wide with excitement, he looked back up at Kanyon. “You think I’m sexy?” He glanced back down at the book and quickly back up to a surprised Kanyon. “Is that your REEEAAALLL phone number?” he asked excitedly.
Daylen quickly responded before Kanyon had the opportunity. “It is and she doesn’t just give that out to anyone. You should totally give her a call.”
“Oh, I WILL. I DEFINITELY WILL!” he said before running off excitedly.
Kanyon turned slowly to Daylen. “Tell me you didn’t,” Kanyon growled in a low I’m-going-to-kill-you voice.
Daylen smirked. “What’s that old saying? Oh yeah, payback is a bitch.”
“I can’t believe you did that,” Kanyon started, but trailed off as a commotion erupted on the far side of the convention center. All Kanyon could make out was a sea of excited people and lights and sounds of photos being rapidly taken.
“Wow. Someone important just showed up,” Daylen said as she stood.
“Probably Will Wheaton,” Kanyon replied as she also stood to leave but froze as her eyes caught a glimpse of who had just entered the convention hall. She watched as Lexi and Vance took the same stage she and Daylen vacated an hour ago.
“Hello ladies, gentlemen, and visiting space creatures,” an announcer said over the loud speaker. “We have some unexpected guests today. Lexi Cruze, the new star and leading actress of The Dark Savior series, and Vance Fleming, of the big screen, have decided to surprise us all today with a guest appearance.”
Daylen reached for Kanyon who was visibly shaken. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, totally.” She waived Daylen off. “I’m fine. It’s fine. I’m good. But I do need to run to the restroom. I drank too much water while we were signing. Do you mind wrapping things up here and getting us checked out?”
“Sure,” Daylen agreed, knowing Kanyon was definitely not okay. Kanyon’s face had lost all its color and she caught the underlying tremble in her voice before she could hide it. “No problem. I’ll take care of things here.”
“Thanks,” Kanyon said hurrying away.
The sudden appearance of Lexi and Vance had dazed her. They weren’t supposed to be here. She had assured herself of that when, using her best Roz imitation, she’d called Lexi’s agent. “What the hell is she doing here?” Kanyon mumbled to herself as she bypassed the bathrooms, fleeing to a back hallway to find some solitude and settle her racing heart. She hit the staging area, darting down a corridor as she gripped her stomach which suddenly felt like it had just done a keg stand then bungee jumped off the Golden Gate Bridge. Four times. She was still reeling when she heard voices coming toward her. She moaned. “You have got to be freaking kidding me.”
“Hey, it’s the old Dark Savior chick,” a guy dressed in full Ghostbusters garb, complete with Bill Murray’s receding hairline, proclaimed.
“I bet she’s back here to sneak a drink. I heard she liked to, you know,” a second Ghostbusters guy, also in full costume with Harold Ramis’ character’s black-rimmed glasses, said in a loud whisper as he leaned back and raised his right hand, simulating someone chugging a beer.
There was a third guy, similarly dressed, and she assumed he was Dan Aykroyd’s character, although he had more of the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man’s stature. “Hey, if you’re looking for a party, I’ve got my own special demon banishing juice in my proton pack,” Stay Puft Dan offered.
Kanyon assessed her options. She could go back in and chance running into Lexi, Vance, and their hundreds of adoring fans, puke, make a complete idiot of herself, confirming to the world that she wasn’t the strong warrior she once pretended to be or she could stay here with the wannabe Ghostbusters and drink some demon banishing juice. Hum, I do have a fair amount of demons currently haunting me. “Sure, why not? Give me some juice.” Stay Puft Dan pulled a cup out of a hidden compartment in his proton pack. “That’s pretty convenient.”
“Yeah, I know, right? But don’t tell anyone about it,” he said as he filled Kanyon’s cup with a green liquid from the end of the proton pack’s gun. “You’re not supposed to have liquor in here and we don’t want to get kicked out. So, no telling you partied with us, okay?” he asked while handing her the cup of green liquid.
Kanyon looked at the green drink and then back up at Stay Puft Dan. “Not to worry. I promise I won’t say a word about drinking demon banishing juice in a back hallway with the Ghostbusters.”
“Cool,” he replied.
Kanyon smiled. “What are your names?”
“I’m Peter,” the receding hair guy said. “He’s Egon,” he pointed at the guy wearing the black-rimmed glasses, “and the guy with the juice is Ray.”
“I kind of figured that out from your costumes. Nice job by the way, but what are your real names?” Kanyon asked, thinking she might need to know so she could find them again if this demon banishing juice really worked.
“Oh, those are our real names, we had them legally changed,” Ray said as he nodded toward her cup. “Go ahead, try it.” He pulled out more cups for the rest of them.
Kanyon sniffed it then took a hesitant drink. She coughed for a full minute, sure the juice had burned her throat all the way to her stomach. “Holy crap. What’s in this stuff?” Kanyon managed to get out after she regained the use of her voice.
“It’s a secret. But it’s good, right?” Ray asked eagerly.
“It’s something alright. It’s strong for sure. I definitely think it’s powerful enough to banish demons.”
Just when Kanyon had almost recovered from her sip, they all raised their glasses in cheers. “Here’s to banishing demons,” Ray toasted.
Kanyon cringed as a roar of cheers came from the convention hall. “To banishing demons,” Kanyon toasted, took a deep breath, blew it out slowly, and chugged. “So, where’s your fourth guy? Wasn’t there a black Ghostbuster in the group?” Kanyon inquired, asking more out of curiosity if her vocal cords still worked rather than genuine concern as to the fourth guy’s whereabouts.
“He’s around here somewhere. Last time we saw him he was trying to hook up with a vampire,” Peter said as Ray filled her cup before she could stop him.
“He’s kind of a player,” Egon said.
Kanyon looked at the demon juice and thought what the heck? If she couldn’t live up to her warrior reputation today she could always live up to her drunk, irresponsible reputation. She slammed down the second cup.
Kanyon chugged a third cup for good measure before saying good-bye to the trio and making her way to the bathroom, actually needing to use it now for more than just an excuse to escape conversation.
Kanyon was washing her hands when she glanced up at herself in the mirror, didn’t banish this demon.
“Hello, Kanyon,” an all too familiar voice purred from behind her. “You decide to finally come out and play?”
Or that one apparently. Kanyon managed to turn off the
faucet and grab a paper towel as she scrambled to think of how to play out this little scene, Linda Hamilton, Terminator, should work. It took her a second to get into character.
Lexi moved up behind Kanyon to whisper in her ear. “I’ve missed you.”
Kanyon shook her off, pivoting slowly. She tried to take a step back to gain some distance between them, but was stopped by the sink. “Missed me? I didn’t think you’d notice my absence since you’ve been so busy stealing my role and my boyfriend,” Kanyon said, managing to deliver the line with a calm, cold indifference.
“Now, Kanyon, you’re not going to let a little thing like that get in the way of what we had, are you?”
“What we had? We didn’t HAVE anything,” Kanyon snapped.
Lexi closed the short distance between them. “You’re telling me that night–”
“Nothing,” Kanyon interrupted. “I don’t even remember half the nights we spent together, since we spent a good number of them drinking. Was it even we or was it just me that spent the nights drinking? Cause now that I think about it, you were always feeding me drinks, but I really don’t remember you–”
Lexi laid herself against Kanyon’s chest and ran her finger down Kanyon’s cheek. “Don’t blame me because you have a drinking problem,” Lexi retorted with well-practiced innocence.
“I don’t have a drinking problem,” Kanyon lashed out harshly, grabbing Lexi’s wrist to stop her caress.
Lexi leaned in close to Kanyon’s mouth. “Right.”
Kanyon’s facade broke for second. “I don’t have a drinking problem! I simply had a–” She didn’t finish her statement, knowing it sounded exactly like what someone who had a drinking problem would say. She took a deep breath and found her Linda Hamilton again. “Forget it. I don’t have a drinking problem, but what I do apparently have is a lying, conniving, bitch problem.”