La Pantera

Ch.38 No Time to Cry

Song for the Chapter: I'll Never Be Hungry Again! by Max Steiner

Stevie walked onto set the next day, knowing she had to act interested in Tom. The Kansas City Barbecue was a nice diner, so she couldn't complain too much. But just the thought of being near this man sent shivers down her spine. He was unsettling and arrogant, no life in his eyes. Tom walked next to her, smiling cockily and she couldn't tell if it was for character or not. "Too bad we don't get to kiss in this last scene.". He smirked. She merely cocked her brow and nodded her head. "Yeah what a shame.", her voice dripped with cold sarcasm. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.", he nudged her a bit too hard. "Don't.", she growled, her teeth bared at him, the canine teeth shaped more like that of a wild panther. Pointy and defined, sharp on the bottoms. "Or what? Can't exactly hit me like you did Nick Cage.", Tom teased. "And why's that?", she smiled as she stepped a bit closer. "Because I have enough leverage as an actor to get your ass canned.", he smiled smugly. "I'm sorry, have you forgotten what I've starred in? Flashdance, Footloose, Breakfast Club, St. Elmo's Fire, Rumblefish....that's enough to set me for life!", Stevie barked. "But you see...it will never amount to a man's dollar.", Tom explained, his voice laced with superiority. Stevie knew what he was hinting at and twitched with anger. She kicked his leg out from under at his shin, causing him to fall on his back unexpectedly. "Least I don't need to wear platforms to be tall.", she snarled, stalking off to her position for the final scene of the film.

Filming was done for the day, much to Stevie's relief. She walked off of set and to her bike. The engine roared to life and she took off down the road. The wind blew her perm back, making her feel alive. She sped down the road, ignoring the lights and stop signs. She put her foot down on the brake at an intersection, seeing the light red. Her eyes widened when she saw the same biker group from Utah, the man from her dream there once more. Her heart beat loud in her ears, her mouth open slightly. "I gotta follow them.", she whispered, knowing it could potentially be dangerous. When she was able, she put some distance between her and the group as she rode after them.  She followed them down the long roads, eventually going into windy backroads. Seeing she was a bit far from set, she bitterly stopped her bike and watched them ride into the sunset. She couldn't let this hinder her career, but it still hurt to watch her opportunity of closure ride off potentially forever. She made a fist and frustratedly slammed the handlebar of the bike. "FUCK!", she yelled.

Coming back to where she stayed, she parked the bike, sitting there for a moment. She stared at the ground, reflecting on what had just happened. "Are you Stevie Costa?", she heard a woman ask. She slowly looked up and immediately recognized what she was seeing ; a groupie. "Yeah, whatcha need?", she smirked. "I want to talk to Vince, he hasn't called me back.", she spat. "I don't know how I can help you with that.", Stevie stood up off her bike, looking at the woman with amusement. "You're around them! Tell him to call Roxanne back!", she shoved Stevie. Stevie grinned dangerously and quickly backhanded the smaller woman to the ground. "Not with that attitude sweetie. Go do it yourself.", she watched the woman get up, who was bleeding from her nose and mouth. She ran away which caused the brunette to laugh. "I'll never understand being a groupie.", she muttered to herself. She didn't understand the appeal of begging for a man's attention. She walked inside the house and shut the door, running a hand through her hair. The phone rang ; she walked over and answered it. "Hello?", she asked. "Hey sweetie...you have any way to cure blue balls?", an imitation of an old man's voice shook on the line. "Fuck off Tommy.", Stevie snapped. "Aww what's wrong?", he laughed. "Did Mr. Method Actor piss you off?", he asked. "He was a sexist pig.", she snarled. "Yeah? You kick his head in?", Tommy laughed. "Just the shin.", she smiled proudly. "That'll do it. He looks like a rat on cocaine.", he smirked. Stevie cackled loudly, head thrown back. "That is very accurate.", she smiled. "Not like I would know anything of the sort.", he joked. "Oh yes you're the epitome of sober.", Stevie sarcastically cheered. "But for real, you like playing a flight attendant?", he asked. "You dumbass, it's a Navy flight INSTRUCTOR.", she emphasized the last word. Man did he have the memory of a cricket. "Oh shit yeah, my bad.", he chuckled. "Anywho, I don't know yet.", she answered his question. "I need to film more to get a better opinion.", she added. "I see.", Tommy blew smoke from his mouth as he reclined in his chair. "Anyways, you doing okay from yesterday?", he asked. "Mhm. Why?" She wasn't about to become even more emotional with Tommy. She'd already cried once, that was enough. "Well I mean that would shake anyone up. And then there's the cop that spooked you. Is there something you gotta talk about?", he asked. "No. Cops and I just don't get along, and I get over shit quickly. I'm not a dweller.", Stevie rolled her eyes, hating these kinds of talks. "Right...if you say so baby.", Tommy chuckled to himself. "Tommy.", she snapped with a warning. "Okay okay I'll stop.", he assured her, raising his free hand to himself as if she was there in surrender. "I gotta go, I'm expecting company.", he smirked to himself. "Don't give her AIDS." Stevie teased with laughter before hanging up.

The sun began to set a bit later as she made herself dinner. It was nights like this where she considered getting a roommate of some sort to drown out the silence, but then remembered she didn't get along with most people. Her mind kept going back to the bikers she had longingly watched leave. Why does this keep bothering me? , she thought to herself. Surely she wasn't adopted right? It could just be a weird dream I made up as a kid right? Some sort of not belonging shit?, she continued to question her conscience. She slammed the knife down on the potato she was chopping hard, the cutting board ringing through the open space from the hit. That man looked exactly like the one in her dream too. It wouldn't leave her alone and she hated it. The eyes and hair were too exact. Those eyes held that same gaze she had, just less fiery and more cold. She placed the chopped food into the boiling pot of water and went into the back room of the rental home. She caught her reflection in the body mirror and gasped aloud. She hadn't realized it, but now with her dark perm, she saw she looked very, very similar to the man on the bike. Her breathing picked up from this realization, tears pricking her eyes. "No...", she whispered softly.

"What if that is your actual family?", she heard Martin's voice ask again.

"No! It's just a coincidence!", she yelled back.

"But the dream. And now you look alike? And the fact there's no baby pictures.", his voice echoed around the room.

"STOP IT! I HAVE TO STAY HERE!"

"Go find this man now!", Martin's voice yelled again.

"SHUT UP!", Stevie yelled, gripping her head as she finally lost it. She banged her head hard against the counter in an attempt to quiet her head. The pain after was unbearable, but at last she could forget about what was distressing her. "I WON'T LET YOU FUCK WITH MY HEAD ANYMORE! YOU'RE DEAD AND IT'S STAYING THAT WAY! I WANNA BE MY OWN PERSON! AND LOVE WHO I WANT!"

"I WANT TO FORGET ABOUT YOU!"