The Gemini

Intermission - The Fourth Wall

Funk-A-Tech Inc. Warehouse
Present Day

In a dark room, a rickety aluminum folding chair faces an old television set. Door opens. Entering the room is narrator, Starrchiild. The soles of her gym shoes meeting the cement floor resound faintly throughout the barren space. She grabs a remote control from atop the television before sitting in the chair.

Pressing the power button, "Alright let's see what we have here – oh come on."

The television doesn't turn on. Sucking her teeth, Starrchiild tries again. It comes to life, bathing the room in bright light. However, the image is fuzzy and scrambled. Annoyed, she stands and walks to the set, adjusts the antennas and gives a swift hit to the side of the tv. It works. The picture comes in clear. She returns to her chair.

Channel surfing. "Saturday Night Live, yeah we're past that. Uh...Ingrid calling? Check. Kisses at The Ritz. Yup. Tommy being a nosey little bitch? Mhm."

As she says this, each of the channels that she passes shows a replaying of said events. Starrchiild continues until she lands on her destination.

"Ah, here we are! Now for a little ketchup Catch up. Catsup. Barbeque sauce."

Slapping her knee, she snickers at a joke that possibly no one will find funny.

Moving on.

Focus to television. On the screen is written in white block lettering: November 17, 1989. This title dissolves out and the image of Jody in London takes over the screen. A camera man captures her talking to locals. Laughs are had. This scene continues on in a montage-like scenario. Different locations are seen. Double Decker bus, Big Ben, party, pub, club.

Starrchiild smiles happily at the happenings. Her beloved Jody is living the dream.

With the remote, the channel is changed. White block lettering: December 5, 1989. Dissolve out, new image on the screen. Jody is back in the U.S., California to be exact. Photoshoots and Music Television commercials. Her notoriety is rising. A star is born.

Station switch. January 22, 1990.

Wiping away a fake tear, Starrchiild sniffles,  "Happy New Year, y'all."

The face that next occupies the screen makes her own face form a sneer. She tacks on a eyeroll for good measure.

Linda.

...

"I lost them." she cries. "I had them in my hands but they slipped through my fingers!" Her crazed agony falling on deaf ears, because A.B. certainly isn't listening.

Linda slaps her hands on the desk, palms clapping wood. Hissing a little at the sting though keeping her scowl. "Mr. Benjamin, did you hear me?"

Feet on the desktop, leaning back in his chair, A.B. lazily flips a page in a magazine that he's not really reading.

Banging on the wood this time, Linda gets half of his attention. "He's gone! She's gone too."

"What I'm s'posed to do about it?"

"You are supposed to be helping me! You said that you would. You promised you would." Linda begins an inconsistent pacing through the office. Hand clutching at the pleated peplum of her shirt.

Another two pages flipped. Nonchalantly spoken, "I ran her off the road."

Her foot stomps. The heel of her purple pump could've dug into the linoleum tile for the amount of force.