“I wanted—” She shifted in her seat, back ramrod straight. John sat before her lazily. “Well, it was my mother who wanted me to become an actress.”
“Why not, Annie? You—You’re a marvelous actress even a blind man can see your performance.”
It sounded absurd, the way he seemed to compliment her and insult her at the same time. “What do you mean?”
He let out a huff, the corner of his pursed lips ticking upward, revealing his canines as if to say: I’ve caught you in my trap.
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about.” She tries not to flinch when he smacks the table. “We’re far from having a pleasant conversation but you—you’re acting like I’ve hung the stars and the moon with my hands.”
Flustered, her mouth wrinkles to give an excuse yet he simply swats the gesture away.
“Don’t insult my intelligence, Annie. As an actor I do know these things. I’m enjoying it so far. I love what you’re doing. Keeps me on my toes. Though you are making me work on my day off so you do need to compensate me somehow.”
Annie has long since abandoned any attempt of understanding the logic behind his words. They’ve only spoken thrice, and it all told her how big of an asshole he was. It was like he spoke in riddles filled with thinly veiled insults. He didn’t care that he was trampling on a person’s feelings. He was like a cat playing with a mouse, passing a half-dead critter between his paws.
His smile drops the moment he realizes she’s not playing with him anymore. The smile turns into a frown, the bottom lip popping out like a petulant little boy denied of candy.
“Aw, c’mon, Starlight. Humor me.”
Annie jolts in her seat. She hasn’t heard that name in a while. “It’s Annie now.”
John blows a raspberry. “Psh. Starlight. Annie. They’re both the same person.”
She’d seen some of his movies—well, clips of them at least over on TikTok during intense sessions of doomscrolling. When he was discovered, he always played the classic hero archetype: charismatic and swoon worthy. But as he grew older, he discarded playing nice and safe, leaning into challenging and controversial characters.
You either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain.
“I want you to write and perform a song for me.” He states confidently as if he knows she’s not going to say no.
Annie doesn’t want anything to do with him. She can’t be any more clearer, but he’s insistent. “I’m already working on something.”
At this, his dark brows pull up, intrigued.
“What’s it about?" Unless of course it’s under absolutely secrecy.”
“It’s not.” She assures him but her throat goes dry anyway. “It’s um—it’s about my…” She couldn’t say the word. Behind her eyelids, she can still see Hughie’s face crumpling in devastation.
John sobers up. Under all the polite cruelty, a softnesss somehow rises. “Your unborn child, right?”
She nods, clenching her fists.
The corner of his lip twitches like he wants to say something but couldn’t. The patience for hesitation runs out, however, “Well… that’s depressing.”
Her vision tunnels until the only thing she can see in the restaurant is John’s mocking smile. Annie wants to lean over, to wipe that infuriating look on his face. She wants to. Her hand crumples the table cloth in an effort not to.
John shrugs, catching the look on her face. “Jesus. It’s been how many years, Annie. Three? Move on already.”
She sneers, a constellation of tears dotting her cheek. “Easy for you to say.”
John bobs his head. “There she is. Don’t be afraid to say what’s on your mind. It’s just the two of us here. Neighbors. Friends. Co-workers?”
Her words are mashed through gritted teeth. “I’ll think about it.”
“Atta girl.” He smiles, that camera-wide fake grin.
what fires run, what craving wakes? (starlander: the beast in me au)
