Chapter Text
|-Monday morning. Ed Koch Queensboro Bridge, New York-|
I wish this bridge had a view comparable to the Brooklyn Bridge. That is, after all, one of the city's most well known landmarks. But I suppose it can't be helped. Utilitarian design and all that...
My tail sits stiff against the seat, trying to wag itself free as my mind goes off. Kati.... I know I shouldn't be thinking about her like this, but it's hard not to sometimes. I need to compose myself. Thankfully, Randy provides some assistance, whether he's aware of it or not.
"You know where we are going, right?" He asks, testing my memory to see if I do, indeed, remember where it is we are going.
"Roosevelt Island. There's a lighthouse at the north end?" I respond, testing the waters. I'm positive that is where we are heading and why.
"Seems I was a fool to doubt your brain." I feel attacked. Why make such a remark? "Was that necessary?" I can feel the daggers in my eyes as I speak.
"Considering you seem to have been off in your own world since Saturday night: Yes. Very much." Seems he's noticed. I try to make it discreet. And I usually succeed. But Randy... Well, nothing escapes his eye. Not even my attempts to hide whenever my mind wanders. I try to make some excuse. Anything so as to not be suspicious.
"I... I'm just thinking of home." That's not convincing enough. He'll pick up that I'm hiding something. I sit and wait for the prodding. A prodding that never comes.
"Not surprised. Even with everything in order, some things can't be helped. I won't prod any further." And he just leaves it at that. I don't know whether to be thankful or concerned. We'll have to see.
We come to another bridge, the Camaro's engine humming softly as we begin to cross onto Roosevelt Island. It's quaint. And more populated than I expected considering how thin the island is. Three kilometers long but only, what, 300 meters across? If that? Quaint. Very quaint. And now that I'm thinking about it, this island doesn't seem like all that bad a place to live. I might take residence here if I ever decided to live in New York permanently. Wouldn't that be something? We continue down Main Street until we find ourselves driving by... a hospital. That's... morbid...
"A hospital? I thought we were-"
"The lighthouse is ahead. Just past the nursing home." He interrupts while also correcting me. "We're parking here. The rest is on foot." He then says as the vehicle begins to slow, eventually parking, at which point he steps out of the vehicle. I decide to follow. The summer heat hits both of us, though I had the smart idea of not wearing my blazer today. Randy, however, is dead set on achieving a heat stroke with that black, leather jacket of his. We start walking north, coming to a park called
"Lighthouse Park", and I can see why. The lighthouse is at the end of the island. It's... smaller than I was expecting. Far smaller. Can we really call it a lighthouse when it's this short?
"That is..." I start, but Randy cuts me off again.
"What? Were you expecting something like Tibbetts Point on Lake Ontario? Montauk Point at the end of Long Island? Cape Hatteras on the Outer Banks of North Carolina? Saint Augustine down in Florida? A fifty footer is all the East River needs." He says, not giving too much thought into the words. It's like he's rehearsed this and gone through the motions before. I wouldn't be surprised if that was the case. He then turns to me, his face an inquiring one.
"Any thoughts?" He asks, wanting my opinion on the matter. I look the lighthouse up and down for a few seconds, indecisive at first, but I see some merit: It has an appealing, rustic vibe. It's position gives a good view of the East River. If we aim down south, we get a good view of the park behind the light. The trees provide a good backdrop. It's quite idyllic. I think I'm seeing why Randy might be interested in it. I wonder what Kati might think... Kati... Oh no. Not again. I can't have this happen again. Not here. But this is in vain. I already had her form in my mind. And from there... the gate is open, so to speak.
The thoughts rush in: The kind of lenses she would use. Portrait or landscape? Close-ups or far-away shots? How would she capture my form? Am I the main focus or is it the lighthouse? The main focus... I wonder just how it is she sees me? It is... more than just a pretty face? It has to be, judging solely on how she seems to... breakdown whenever we are close. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't affecting me to some extent. I just... I wish that I cou-
"City. You there?"
I'm snapped out of this trance by the sound of Randy's voice. Thank the goddesses. I quickly turn to match his attention so that I can respond.
"Off in your own world again?" He asks,.
"No. I think this can work. We just need to get Kati's opinion on it." I respond, unsure if I'm still entranced or not. Though I have an answer as my mind begins to drift again. Back to... her... Goddesses help me now...
|-Earlier that morning. Lookout Hill, Prospect Park, 150 West Drive, Brooklyn-|
What's not to love about Prospect Park? We got some sun. Good, fresh air. Trails on trails on trails. It's the perfect place to stretch your legs and go deaf listenin to some Solstice. Which funnily enough, is exactly what I'm doin right now. If I didn't have a tail, you'd be none the wiser to my excitement. But alas, the swishin black hair betrays me. Not that I give a shit. I do, however, give a shit about Kati bein late. She said she'd be here at eight. It's almost nine. Where the hell is she? I start walkin down Lookout Hill and towards the boathouse. Maybe Kati's over there. Certainly wouldn't be a bad place to start lookin for her.
I arrive at the boathouse in like, ten minutes.? Maybe nine. I don't know. I've always been a fast walker. Brisk some might say. Particularly in a soft Irish accent. But that's besides the point. I'm here at the boathouse, and I don't see Kati. So I start lookin around. Maybe she's in the shade and I don't see her. Maybe I'm an idiot and came to the wrong park. Wouldn't that be a shitty thing to do. Confuse Prospect Park with Crotona Park. Totally haven't done that before. No Bronxite would ever do that. But then I think I hear somethin. So I pause my music, forgive me Warbringer, take my earbuds out of my big ass ears and look around. You see, we umas have got better hearin than humans, so I can easily tell who it was and where they are. I then hear it again, and it sounds familiar. Might be Kati. I turn around and see her approachin, seemingly very confused to see me.
"How... How did you get here... Before me?" She asks as she reaches me, still unsure as to how a beat her to Brooklyn, though I feel it should be pretty obvious.
"You're an hour late. That's how." I respond, watchin as she gets even more confused.
"An hour late? I said I'd be here at nine." I then take out my phone and check my messages. No. She said eight. No way she- I stand corrected. Lookin at the text, she... She did say nine. I swear I'm intelligent. Regardless, I put my phone away and ask her about this little outin.
"So... Any reason we're out here?" I ask, pickin at her brain. She didn't say why we're out here. I want to find out.
"Just trying to clear my head. Thought you might be able to help." She responds. But I'm not buyin it. Not for a second. There's somethin else at play.
"That's the motive. Why Brooklyn? Why not Crotona or Claremont Park?" I ask, tryin to figure out more. But Kati doesn't budge. Red flag #1. Then she starts walkin north, like she's headin for the zoo. That, or the conservatory. Best to follow.
It was the conservatory. We walked right past the zoo. Well, "zoo". Prospect Park Zoo is fuckin tiny. We're actually on Flatbush Avenue, headin down to Empire Boulevard, at which point we'll turn on to Washington. From there, Steinhardt Conservatory. All the while, we are talkin.
"And remind me again how well that particular idea panned out." I hear her say, rememberin some stupid shit I did when we were younger. She says it like both of us forgot.
"Excuse me? We were both tweny-one. Legal adults.. The fuck else were we supposed to do? Wait for your dad to come home and kick me out for smokin weed? Hell no. I wanted to make brownies and I had a nug. Shit happens." Context: I nearly burnt down Kati's kitchen tryin to make an edible. She was still livin with her dad at the time, albeit looking for an apartment of her own. Old man lives in Yonkers. Not important. Kati constantly zonin out thinkin about her new... client... That is important. And it's concernin me. A lot. She's never been good with romance. But she isn't incapable. Internalizin her own feelins, though? Utter disaster. She can't help it. It's that thing that happens to every person who sees a hot woman: You just shut down and fantasize on the spot. This little trip into Brooklyn, at least the conservatory, won't help. I won't make it obvious that I know, but I'll try and help.
"Calathea wioth. 'Prayer plant'. Native to Brazil. Huh..." Now that I'm lookin at it, it does kinda look like a dude prayin. Funny. But then I look at Kati, and she seems to be doing a different kind of prayer. She's in her head again. Gotta get her out of it. I snap my fingers in front of her, and that seems to do the trick.
"Wah... Met! What-" I interrupt her.
"You were in your head again. Come on, let's ditch this place. You won't get a clear head here." I say, comin up with a very different plan to try and take her mind off things. A plan that involves airtime and a whole lotta screamin.
|-That afternoon. Luna Park, 1000 Surf Avenue-|
Met is utterly insane. I wanted peace of mind, not a roller coaster. But I'll be damned if it wasn't fun. I haven't been to Luna Park in a decade. I look to my left and see the Spook-A-Rama. Perfect attraction for Halloween. Too bad it's June and won't hit as hard as it should. Still, pretty fun. It seems Met sees where I'm going and decides to follow.
"Hey wait, aren't you arachnophobic?" I hear him ask, clearly not sure if this is a wise idea.
"No. We've known each other for almost twenty years. It's snakes I don't like. How do you keep forgetting that? Besides, it's a dark ride." I respond as I walk into the attraction's line, Met falling behind me. It doesn't take long for us to get into a car and start moving. It's dark inside. As I expected it to me. We take turn after turn, getting jumped by plastic skeletons and mummy props. But it soon stops. And then we get off. And bid Coney Island's last surviving haunted ride farewell as I feel Met start dragging me west. And I spot what he's marching us towards: Thunderbolt.
We find ourselves close to the raceway, the rev of mini-cart engines blaring in the air, giving me a headache the longer we stand here. But as the headache grows, something catches my attention. Smells like salt, but not from the ocean. It's something else. I turn to see where it's coming from and see a food stall. Now that I'm looking at it, I am kind of hungry. And Met seems to notice. And I can tell he has an idea.
"I see where you're lookin." He says, his eyes now on Salt & Sizzle. He's considering it. I know that look in his eyes. The he starts walking. His decision has been made. And I think I know a big reason why. I follow him into the building, at which point the AC hits both of us, some relief from the heat outside. We find a table, sit down and order our food. And that's when Met pulls out a little bottle from his bag. His HRT. He takes a few pills, grabs his soda, and pops them into his mouth, swallowing soon after.
"So... You forgot to take your testosterone again?" I ask, wanting to get a rise out of him. But I've clearly failed, judging by his confused expression.
"What? No. I take that in the morning and at night. That was my antiestrogen I just swallowed." He says, now making me confused.
"Antiestrogen?" I ask, wanting to know more.
"Yeah. Antiestrogen. Attaches itself to e-receptors to block estrogen from being absorbed. Helps with the testosterone." He starts, not really assuaging my confusion.
"So you... Take it three times a day?" I then ask.
"Yes. I take it three times a day. You can be pretty empty headed, sometimes. What was that about us knowin each other for almost twenty years?" There's the smugness. Can't go a day without it.
We get back to the Thunderbolt after heading out food and that... Well that seems like a bad idea. Going on a roller coaster like Thunderbolt after eating. I'm getting angsty. I don't like it. And Thunderbolt is scary looking. But Met insisted. Because of course he did. And, of course, he managed to convince me. Just like he always does. The line moves every so often, the looming metal track coming closer each time. Eventually, we reach the station, and board the car. My heart is pounding. More than it ever has. Then the car starts moving. It's slow. Painfully slow. But then we hit the lift. It's vertical. I close my eyes, but feel Met shake my wrist.
"Don't wimp out on me now." I hear him say as we slowly climb the lift. We crest, then we fall. It's fast, and we immediately go into a loop. It's exhilarating, terrifying and breath taking all at once. The kind of rush you'd get playing chicken in traffic. Then a roll, followed by a heavily banked turn with leads into another inversion that turns us around. What follows are several smaller hills until we hit another roll, and then the brakes. We're done here. And I feel... Really good. That was fun. But I think I've had my fill for the day. We get off, and grab out things, where I check my phone and see a message from Randy.
'Call me as soon as you can. We have a few ideas for the next shoot.'
No rest for the wicked I suppose.