Post by Fiona McFly on Nov 11, 2018 16:54:30 GMT
Chapter II
“REACH OUT AND TOUCH SOMEONE”
6 November 2018
Several days ago...
”DING-DING-DING, DING-DING-DING! WAKE UP, WAKE UP!!
DING-DING-DING, DING-DING-DING! WAKE UP, WAKE UP!!
DING-DING-DING, DING-DING-DING! WAKE UP, WAKE UP!!
DING-DING-DING, DING-DING-DING! WAKE UP, WAKE UP!!...”
On a damp Tuesday morning Fiona McFly woke up in a daze, her eyes widened like saucers.
She found herself in a Lisbon hotel room, her breathing heavy and laboured as she shot out of bed to the sounds of her personal phone alarm. Trudging slowly to a mirror above the bathroom sink, she discovered that her face was heavily disheveled, with her scars still visible and her hair completely frazzled. It was supposed to be a pleasant night’s sleep--even after the grueling match she just had.
It just wasn’t meant to be. The graphic vision she’d experienced didn’t help matters either.
Shaking her head, and with her body trembling all over, she walked back to her nightstand and turned off her alarm. It was 3:00 in the morning, and the weather was quiet. She had to be at the airport by 7:30 for a flight back home. Yet before she could get herself ready for the nine-hour journey back to DFW, she grabbed her phone and dialed a number. She sighed, twiddling her thumbs as she put the device on speakers, and then...we hear the voice of Sean Morita on the other end of the line.
SEAN MORITA:
Hello?
FIONA MCFLY:
(in a frantic tone)
It’s Fiona...
SEAN:
Holy Shatner, you sound scared. What happened?
Fiona snapped.
FIONA:
I had a fucking nightmare, THAT’S what happened!
SEAN:
Okay, okay...I understand. I’m no counselor, but a colleague of mine who’s in that field would tell me to just breathe and relax when I get stressed about something.
She closed her eyes for a moment to let her mind process the dream she had, listening as the sounds of Morita’s pen hitting paper.
SEAN:
As you can hear, I’m grading midterm exams in my office. If you don’t mind me asking, where are you and what’s going on?
FIONA:
Portugal. I'm about eight or nine hours ahead of you, but listen Sean, I…
She paused and outstretched her arms, trying to keep herself awake.
FIONA:
I want you to be aware that whilst I can’t claim to know everything about what was going on in your mind at the time, you need to understand that we went to see Bohemian Rhapsody not as dates, but simply as Queen superfans. Nothing more, nothing less. I don’t want you to think of that as me sounding harsh, but...
SEAN:
Oh, it’s okay; besides...I wanted to tell you that I've got a wife and a 15-year-old son. I was gonna ask them if they wanted to see the movie with me, but they wanted to go see another one that I can't remember.
That’s why I took the offer you made, but still...I never realised how much of a fan you really were.
FIONA:
Now you know, but...I also neglected to ask about how you knew where I lived to begin with.
Sean chuckled slightly through the phone’s speaker.
SEAN:
Your neighbour Sam Dawkins gave me your address after he repaired my Prius at his car dealership.
Fiona raised an eyebrow, then spoke in a stern tone of voice.
FIONA:
I’m not exactly in the mood for laughing over serious questions right now...I’ve got a nine-hour flight ahead of me and I am extremely stressed. A’right?!
SEAN:
Ma’am, I apologise. Thing is, while I was having the car fixed, Sam told me about you and the work you did with his daughter, teaching her wrestling and all that...but honestly, I didn’t know you wanted to keep a low profile. I’m sorry if I creeped you or anything like that when I stopped by your house the other day.
She nodded as she took a sip from a bottle of water.
FIONA:
It’s a’right, really. To be fair...Sam is a very good neighbour and friend; I personally don’t think he meant any harm. I realise he wants to get me in touch with some new connections that would help me heal after Jack passed, but still...I wish he wouldn’t have given you me address. With me line of work, I’ve had people from all over asking me for...you know, certain favours. If you know what I mean, that is...
SEAN:
Like the time when you kicked a Playboy magazine guy out of your house because he wanted you to pose nude?! If I recall, his name was Dick Head…
Fiona, in spite of her stress, mustered a cheeky smirk before looking down at her phone’s clock.
FIONA:
(laughing)
Exactly...you’ve got it. Look Sean, unfortunately I’ve got to let you finish grading so I can prepare for the long flight back to Dallas-Fort Worth myself.
SEAN:
That’s fine. I’m happy you called me to clear up some things, and I’m even more grateful you offered to take me to watch that movie. I hope...I hope I can get to know you better, for something other than the fact you’re a Queen geek.
Fiona smiled, giving a slight wink as she took another sip from her water bottle.
FIONA:
I really appreciate you coming along with me, and I, too, hope I can get to know you and your family better. Perhaps, if schedule doesn't get too crazy...I’ll show you all some of me other hobbies. You sound like an honest person, one that enjoys his life and all that. What was it you taught, Temporal Mechanics?
SEAN:
That’s right. You’re more than welcome to observe a class--that is, of course, depending on your schedule. I hope you’re about to make it though; my next lecture series will be a doozy--what if the concept of time travel were to fall into the wrong hands! Just gimme the word and you’ll be all set.
She giggled to herself and took a deep breath, gazing out of her hotel room window at all the city's lights below.
FIONA:
Sean...the word is given. By the way, how did you know about me dealings with that magazine…?!
SEAN:
7-Eleven. I, ummm...
There was a pause as we hear Sean in a bit of a stammer, trying to come up with an answer. Fiona could barely control her laughter from within, knowing that he was hiding something.
SEAN:
I only read Playboy for the interview articles! I swear to God! Don’t tell my wife, I’m begging you! She’ll have me sent to the spice mines of Kessel, smashed into who-knows-what, and blasted into oblivion…
Eventually, Fiona found herself losing control and bursting into laughter. Deep in her soul, she needed the diversion from the chaos surrounding her public life. "Of course," she muttered to herself after hanging up the phone, "ALL men read Playboy for one reason or another!" Fiona continued her fits of joy as she placed some of her clothing into her green rolling luggage bag, keeping the professor's eccentricities locked deep within her very consciousness.
That moment of laughter, however, would be short-lived.
An ice-cold burst of energy began to pulsate through Fiona's body--signifying a dark aura--and she began to wonder whether or not Sean was being a goofball to cover for something far bigger than anything she could ever imagine.
Perhaps, something sinister.
~TO BE CONTINUED~
“REACH OUT AND TOUCH SOMEONE”
6 November 2018
Several days ago...
”DING-DING-DING, DING-DING-DING! WAKE UP, WAKE UP!!
DING-DING-DING, DING-DING-DING! WAKE UP, WAKE UP!!
DING-DING-DING, DING-DING-DING! WAKE UP, WAKE UP!!
DING-DING-DING, DING-DING-DING! WAKE UP, WAKE UP!!...”
On a damp Tuesday morning Fiona McFly woke up in a daze, her eyes widened like saucers.
She found herself in a Lisbon hotel room, her breathing heavy and laboured as she shot out of bed to the sounds of her personal phone alarm. Trudging slowly to a mirror above the bathroom sink, she discovered that her face was heavily disheveled, with her scars still visible and her hair completely frazzled. It was supposed to be a pleasant night’s sleep--even after the grueling match she just had.
It just wasn’t meant to be. The graphic vision she’d experienced didn’t help matters either.
Shaking her head, and with her body trembling all over, she walked back to her nightstand and turned off her alarm. It was 3:00 in the morning, and the weather was quiet. She had to be at the airport by 7:30 for a flight back home. Yet before she could get herself ready for the nine-hour journey back to DFW, she grabbed her phone and dialed a number. She sighed, twiddling her thumbs as she put the device on speakers, and then...we hear the voice of Sean Morita on the other end of the line.
SEAN MORITA:
Hello?
FIONA MCFLY:
(in a frantic tone)
It’s Fiona...
SEAN:
Holy Shatner, you sound scared. What happened?
Fiona snapped.
FIONA:
I had a fucking nightmare, THAT’S what happened!
SEAN:
Okay, okay...I understand. I’m no counselor, but a colleague of mine who’s in that field would tell me to just breathe and relax when I get stressed about something.
She closed her eyes for a moment to let her mind process the dream she had, listening as the sounds of Morita’s pen hitting paper.
SEAN:
As you can hear, I’m grading midterm exams in my office. If you don’t mind me asking, where are you and what’s going on?
FIONA:
Portugal. I'm about eight or nine hours ahead of you, but listen Sean, I…
She paused and outstretched her arms, trying to keep herself awake.
FIONA:
I want you to be aware that whilst I can’t claim to know everything about what was going on in your mind at the time, you need to understand that we went to see Bohemian Rhapsody not as dates, but simply as Queen superfans. Nothing more, nothing less. I don’t want you to think of that as me sounding harsh, but...
SEAN:
Oh, it’s okay; besides...I wanted to tell you that I've got a wife and a 15-year-old son. I was gonna ask them if they wanted to see the movie with me, but they wanted to go see another one that I can't remember.
That’s why I took the offer you made, but still...I never realised how much of a fan you really were.
FIONA:
Now you know, but...I also neglected to ask about how you knew where I lived to begin with.
Sean chuckled slightly through the phone’s speaker.
SEAN:
Your neighbour Sam Dawkins gave me your address after he repaired my Prius at his car dealership.
Fiona raised an eyebrow, then spoke in a stern tone of voice.
FIONA:
I’m not exactly in the mood for laughing over serious questions right now...I’ve got a nine-hour flight ahead of me and I am extremely stressed. A’right?!
SEAN:
Ma’am, I apologise. Thing is, while I was having the car fixed, Sam told me about you and the work you did with his daughter, teaching her wrestling and all that...but honestly, I didn’t know you wanted to keep a low profile. I’m sorry if I creeped you or anything like that when I stopped by your house the other day.
She nodded as she took a sip from a bottle of water.
FIONA:
It’s a’right, really. To be fair...Sam is a very good neighbour and friend; I personally don’t think he meant any harm. I realise he wants to get me in touch with some new connections that would help me heal after Jack passed, but still...I wish he wouldn’t have given you me address. With me line of work, I’ve had people from all over asking me for...you know, certain favours. If you know what I mean, that is...
SEAN:
Like the time when you kicked a Playboy magazine guy out of your house because he wanted you to pose nude?! If I recall, his name was Dick Head…
Fiona, in spite of her stress, mustered a cheeky smirk before looking down at her phone’s clock.
FIONA:
(laughing)
Exactly...you’ve got it. Look Sean, unfortunately I’ve got to let you finish grading so I can prepare for the long flight back to Dallas-Fort Worth myself.
SEAN:
That’s fine. I’m happy you called me to clear up some things, and I’m even more grateful you offered to take me to watch that movie. I hope...I hope I can get to know you better, for something other than the fact you’re a Queen geek.
Fiona smiled, giving a slight wink as she took another sip from her water bottle.
FIONA:
I really appreciate you coming along with me, and I, too, hope I can get to know you and your family better. Perhaps, if schedule doesn't get too crazy...I’ll show you all some of me other hobbies. You sound like an honest person, one that enjoys his life and all that. What was it you taught, Temporal Mechanics?
SEAN:
That’s right. You’re more than welcome to observe a class--that is, of course, depending on your schedule. I hope you’re about to make it though; my next lecture series will be a doozy--what if the concept of time travel were to fall into the wrong hands! Just gimme the word and you’ll be all set.
She giggled to herself and took a deep breath, gazing out of her hotel room window at all the city's lights below.
FIONA:
Sean...the word is given. By the way, how did you know about me dealings with that magazine…?!
SEAN:
7-Eleven. I, ummm...
There was a pause as we hear Sean in a bit of a stammer, trying to come up with an answer. Fiona could barely control her laughter from within, knowing that he was hiding something.
SEAN:
I only read Playboy for the interview articles! I swear to God! Don’t tell my wife, I’m begging you! She’ll have me sent to the spice mines of Kessel, smashed into who-knows-what, and blasted into oblivion…
Eventually, Fiona found herself losing control and bursting into laughter. Deep in her soul, she needed the diversion from the chaos surrounding her public life. "Of course," she muttered to herself after hanging up the phone, "ALL men read Playboy for one reason or another!" Fiona continued her fits of joy as she placed some of her clothing into her green rolling luggage bag, keeping the professor's eccentricities locked deep within her very consciousness.
That moment of laughter, however, would be short-lived.
An ice-cold burst of energy began to pulsate through Fiona's body--signifying a dark aura--and she began to wonder whether or not Sean was being a goofball to cover for something far bigger than anything she could ever imagine.
Perhaps, something sinister.
~TO BE CONTINUED~
Well howdy there pardner.