The year is 1994. The Artist finds himself in a situation no one ever thought could happen. How does he get out of it, or perhaps more importantly, how did he get there in the first place?
The trailer, courtesy of @QueenofDisco ...https://youtu.b...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
(convo mostly in Rarotongan and those parts are in bold)
September 2, 1994
2:00 a.m.
**Iolani POV**
Brinng! Brinng!
I wake up disoriented to my pitch black bedroom to a shrill ring, letting out a huge yawn as I stretch and slowly drag my alarm clock over to glance at the time. It’s only 2:00! What the…?
Brinng! Brinng!
God…I hope it’s not the hospital. Isn’t 4 a.m. early enough?!
Just before the phone has the chance to ring again, I pick it up offering a drowsy half hearted greeting. “Hello?”
“Kia orana, Iolani,” I hear my mother’s chipper voice greet me. “I didn’t wake you this time did I, sweetie?” No, Mom. I always sound this groggy over the phone…
You’d think after four months of my living here that my mother would get a handle on something like time zones, but so far, no dice. What’s she calling for at this hour anyway. Her and Daddy are usually in bed by now…
“Don’t worry, Mom. I had to get up shortly for work anyway,” I reply, stifling another yawn as visions of my morning coffee dance in my head.
“Are you sure?” she replies with a hint of concern. “You sound exhausted. That hospital isn’t overworking you are they?”
“No mama, I promise,” I reply reassuringly, glancing again at the clock as I continue pondering the reasoning behind this late night phone call.
Just as I’m about to ask though, she continues in her best Mama Bear voice, “They better not be. They don’t want me to come over there…”Hell hath no fury like a protective Rarotongan mother...
I do my best to stifle a giggle as her side of the line goes silent for a moment...broken only when she asks me in a nervous tone, almost a whisper, “Honey, Aloha’s not with you is she...?” Well now we’re getting somewhere…
For a few seconds, I strain my ears listening in the dark for any indication that the ringing phone might’ve woken Lo. Outside of phone static and my mother’s nervous breathing over the line though, the apartment is bathed in silence.
“Iolani? Are you still there?”
“Yes, Mom,” I reply quietly, reaching over to click on the bedside lamp and slowly shifting into a semi seated position. “Lo must still be asleep.”
As my mother lets out a large relieved sigh, I’m riddled with even more unanswered questions.
“Oh thank God…” I hear her start, even as I confusedly ask, “Why? What is going on here? Why are you calling so late? Are you and daddy okay?”
