Public Enemy

Chapter One

PUBLIC ENEMY

Dedicated to Bennet869 since we're both in the same situation and can sympathize with each other *wink wink*

 Picture Of Fiona >>>>>>>>

~[]~ CHAPTER ONE ~[]~

“…Accidents come unannounced. They rarely text you inquiring about your schedule…”

- Gregory Lyon, The New Yorker [2006]

“Fiona darling?”

I stiffened then groaned as I shifted my gaze from the movie screen and focused on the tall, willowy silhouette of my mother, who stood at the entrance of our theatre room, in a deceptively nonchalant pose.

Her flawless cream complexion glowed eerily as the light from the screen flickered across her face, illuminating her renowned exotic features as she studied me with narrowed eyes.

I was so busted.

“Hey mom!” I squeaked as I scrambled across the popcorn-laden couch in search for the remote. “You’re back early!” I continued in my shrill over bright voice as I punched the mute button allowing the room to be enveloped in an ominous silence.

I twiddled my thumbs nervously.

My mother only narrowed her eyes more.

“Fiona darling could you please explain as to why you are home at this time watching cartoons when you should be at work.”

I winced. There goes my hope she’d not notice. Damn.

I stuff my mouth with cold popcorn that suddenly tastes like plastic as I mumble something incoherent.

“I’m sorry I didn’t catch that”

I swallow slowly then huff and puff and finally mutter in a small voice. “I got fired.”

My mother rolls her eyes heavenward with a dramatic sigh as she states, “I know, your father and I got a call from the studio. Meet us in the study in exactly five minutes… We need to talk.”

Five minutes later I sat before my father’s gleaming glass desk with my parents perched at the other side. I probably represented the classic offending delinquent child brought to the principal’s office, which was probably the way my dad had planned the scene.

He was all about scenes, my father… but that was probably an occupational hazard with his being a director and everything.

“Fiona.” My father began in a weary yet authorative voice that had countless crews and sets tripping over their feet. “You managed to get fired.”

I squirmed underneath his piercing gaze.

“Not only did you get fired, again may I add, you also destroyed a thousands of dollars worth set, broke the leg of the movie’s star, thereby jeopardizing his movie career and halting the movie itself and if that wasn’t enough you also beat up the movie director, who also happens to be my best friend.”