| Subject: Chapter 214 - Part 1 (16 and above) |
Author:
KatherineG.
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Date Posted: Wednesday, November 09, 06:41:16am
In reply to:
KatherineG.
's message, "Dreams in the Dark (203 > )" on Monday, October 03, 07:35:40am
Extra warning: This part contains some extremely dated and unpleasant ideas about race. Sorry. I couldn't change them and be true to this era or this character. It also has a few mild bad words and some unpleasant conversations. I'll rate it 16 and above, just to be safe.
Dreams in the Dark (214/?)
by Katherine Gilbert
The days flew by, the proximity of the couple's trial by fire growing closer by the day. It was now October 20th, only a week and a half standing between the pair and their showdown with Fate. But all any of their friends could do was wonder--and pray that everything would go well.
Some of them were doing a bit more than wishing, however--each day of silence bringing the fears that much closer, their vigilance growing. There had already been over a month of reprieve, the couple's wedding well in the past. All their best guesses for when the attack would come had passed them by. But none of them were foolish enough to believe that they were safe.
There were many people who were at least somewhat aware of these trends, were many allies the pair had made--some they didn't even know about. Among these latter ones was Sondra, whose own, decidedly uncertain, position had made her far more circumspect, lately. The dreams of the young, untrained girl were long past. Now, there was only a very frightened woman left.
Her current situation had made her far more watchful, if not inherently more insightful; there was only so much circumstance could do with nature and upbringing. She had been raised to be unwary and unaware. All the experience in the world could only counteract this so far.
Still, she had some sense of determination now, some fear of what would happen, if she abandoned it. All her long years of training to be silent and obedient were behind her. She now clearly understood that there was no use in doing what any man might say.
It was these feelings which were growing in her further by the day, every night with Bauer making them worse. But, as much as she wanted to help the pair in question, had some ill-defined fear that her fate might well be entwined with theirs, she had no idea where to begin. There were only so many ways you could go up to some idol of the screen and ask them if you were both in danger. It wasn't like there was any easy place to start.
It was only this puzzle which had kept the girl from talking to either Ward or Samuelle thus far, was only her hard-learned training that the stars were not easily approachable. And what she had to ask them seemed ludicrous, on the surface. How could anyone ever believe that any of the actors were going to be physically harmed? Sure, they might lose their position at the studio, if their popularity fell, but to actually believe that someone might try to hurt them . . .
She had to shake her head, utterly uncertain of where such ideas had begun. She was just left to ponder them, wandering around the lot, outside the soundstage she worked in, her lunch hour a fortunate opportunity to think; Perry was even being kind enough to abandon her for awhile. It was far worse when he didn't. He sometimes got very worked up watching the filming, wanted to use her, while everyone else ate; she squirmed a little, not wanting to think about it. She was just incredibly lucky that he wasn't feeling that way today.
Her master's disappearance was giving her the opportunity she craved--a moment out of his presence--but it also made her mind roam, certain insights inevitable. While difficult to believe, she now knew the truth. Michael and Kitty were being targeted for something dreadful. It was only the details of which she had no clue.
She was lucky, then, for the person she next ran into--almost literally, as it turned out. Rounding a corner of the studio, pacing around as she tried to imagine some way to approach the endangered pair, she almost walked right into an actress she had seen around quite a bit. She wasn't important, in the hierarchy of life at Premier, but Sondra now knew not to question. This woman at least had a contract. It wasn't like she herself had been that lucky at all.
To her surprise, the woman actually stopped, looking her in the eye; it was unusual, here. Most of the time, the contract players breezed right past her, barely even noticing her existence. But this one . . .
"It's Sondra, right?" the woman asked, almost smiling. Still, there was something forced about the look--always seemed to be. There had never once, in the stand-in's knowledge of her, been a moment that the actress had ever seemed genuinely pleased by the world around her.
The blonde woman was beginning to understand how she felt, managed to nod in return--bringing back to life a highly-dimmed version of the polite smile she had once flashed so effortlessly. It made the woman continue, to her surprise. "I'm Jasmine." She held out her hand, shrugging. "We've never really been properly introduced."
This was true enough, even if Sondra was a little unsure how to accept such friendliness. She had never in her life actually touched anyone who wasn't white. And this girl . . .
Her approach to such politeness was rather tentative, then. It took her a minimum of half a minute to manage to force her hand into a position to touch the Chinese girl, her handshake less than firm, once she did--her look uncertain. Jasmine either didn't notice or didn't seem to mind, her smile deepening, her touch warm, as her words went on. "It can be pretty lonely around here, if you don't have friends." She let the girl's hand go, leaving her a little disconcerted. "You just looked like you wanted someone to talk to."
Sondra didn't understand any of this, was left utterly bewildered. Up to today, she had only seen the actress from across a soundstage, when she had been standing in for Sash on her previous film; the woman was apparently, from the gossip Bauer's victim had heard, just hanging on at Premier, playing whatever roles she could get. On that film, Jasmine had been playing some sort of housegirl, her part fairly forgettable; the blonde woman blinked, her mind turning. But she had never seen anyone of her race who had ever gotten to play much more than this.
This suddenly seemed a little unfair to the woman, even if the thought was fairly muted. She wasn't an expert, but the girl seemed quite adept at acting--had certainly had her fooled, at first. That role she had been watching had required the actress to speak in the sort of pidgin English Sondra had always believed was a requirement of her race. It had been a little more than a shock, when she had discovered that the woman really spoke just like everyone else.
These were only some of the racial discoveries the stand-in had been making over her few months in this town--even if they were far more minor than she imagined. The studio, and this city, seemed much more mixed than she had ever believed, all sorts of people employed by the studio--all of them getting along fairly quietly, without much comment or notice. And none of them, whatever their race, talked or acted as she had been led to believe--her own background entirely lacking in any examples to the contrary. The barest edges of her stereotypes had been dented, then--and, sadly, that was more insight than most people had in the whole of their lives.
She wasn't aware of this fact, wasn't even aware that her discoveries were less than earth-shatteringly huge. That she no longer expected colored people to break out in song and dance when she saw them seemed to her an immensely forward-thinking advance. She had no idea how very reality-retarded she still was.
She was rather surprised, then, about this woman's approach to her, but she tried to be equal to it, not wanting to offend her. After all, her race was supposed to be pretty cunning, when it came to revenge. It would definitely be better for her, if she didn't make her mad.
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