Stereotypical Butt-Kicking Mandatory
Kyoko peered over the traffic barrier erected along the perimeter of the set, shading her eyes as she scanned the multitude of actors for her best friend. Kanae saw her first, her graceful wave drawing Kyoko's attention. She leaned over to a man beside her, pointing at Kyoko. The man nodded, and jogged to Kyoko's side. He lifted the barricade and nodded her through.
"Miss Kotonami's guest? Here's a badge. Keep it on while on set, please."
Kyoko draped the VIP GUEST : ALL ACCESS pass over her neck like it was a chain of priceless pearls, her fingers caressing it. This was proof that the world was learning just how amazing Kotonami Kanae was, and she would cherish it her whole lifelong! If they let her keep it. She hoped they let her keep it. Kyoko leaned down and grabbed a rock from the ground. She'd keep that too, just in case.
Kanae looked beautiful in her lace and satin dress, the sea foam color setting off her alabaster skin perfectly. She the perfect rich young lady—- a immigrant from China, daughter of a lord, living in the United States. She was meant to challenge the stereotypes of the day, turning American turn-of-the-century society on its head with her intellectualism and poise.
She was perfect for the role. Kyoko was certain the lead was going to fall madly in love with her. He may even try to abduct her. She was suddenly on alert for suspicious behavior, sweeping her eyes cautiously over the male cast.
Kanae hugged her lightly, taking the moment to whisper, "Calm down," in Kyoko's ear. Kyoko nodded briskly, still vibrating with excitement and tension over being on Kanae's real-deal-American-movie set. She wanted to bounce and scream and flail and lift her friend up on her shoulders, spinning her around and yelling for the entire cast to bow down and acknowledge the prowess of MOKO-SAN!
"Hostess mode," Kanae snapped, poking her friend sharply. Kyoko felt herself glide into calm, a serene smile replacing the rictus joy that had transfigured her face. She breathed deeply, the only indication of the raging pride inside the flickering light in her eyes as she stood next to Kanae. "Thank you," Kanae whispered. She paused, adjusting her sleeves as if considering her words carefully. "I'm.. glad you're here."
Kyoko bit her lip, just barely maintaining her outer shell of calm. "So am I, Moko, so am I!" She wanted to squeal. She kept it to a squeak.
"Is Tsuru— I mean," Kanae paused, the name change still too fresh for comfort. "Is Hizuri-san still coming to meet you here today?"
"Kanae, he asked you to call him Ren-kun, that goes for Kuon as well."
"Kuon-kun sounds like I'm baby talking a vegetable."
"Moko!"
A tall blonde man finished speaking with part of the crew and made his way over to the pair, waving a script in the air.
"Kanae, they've changed the damn thing again— how am I supposed to recover from their incompetence? A man can't be expected to memorize the same scene fifty times," he paused, seemingly noticing Kyoko for the first time. He started to turn away, facing Kanae more directly in an oblique move to privatize their conversation. Kyoko bowed deeply, her back perfectly straight and eyes gently averted as she rose.
"Ah," he said, turning back to include her with his body language. "And this is?"
"Kyoko," Kanae said, choosing to use just her stage name.
Kyoko bowed her head, pulling her card from her pocket and handing it to the man, still without looking at him directly.
"Kyoko-chan," he said. The added honorific somehow sounded unpleasant as it rolled off his tongue. Like he was chewing his food with his mouth open. He nodded at her— or was it meant to be a slight bow? "Cedric Duris. Kanae's costar and lead on the film. You are… an extra?"
Kyoko shook her head, avoiding pointing out the vibrantly colored guest pass draped over her chest. "Merely visiting, Mr. Duris."
"Please, Duris-sama will do."
"Duris-san," Kyoko said, fighting the urge to grimace at his request. She couldn't tell if he was trying to be sensitive to her culture and was merely a boor, or if he meant to put her in a certain position. It left a queer taste in her mouth.
Duris eyed her boldly, his gaze lingering on her hands. "Have you a kimono with you?"
She frowned the outlandish question, but Kanae intervened before she could speak.
"Cedric, we need to rehearse if they changed the script. With me?" She gestured at two chairs beneath an umbrella. "Kyoko, I'm sorry. I'm sure you're starving after auditions— I want to hear, please? Wait?"
Kyoko nodded briskly. Of course she'd wait. Her muscles ached terribly after the strain of the audition. She knew the role was physical, but hadn't expected to be asked to climb a telephone pole using only a pair of leather-strapped weights on the first day. She rubbed her triceps as she wandered off looking for the food. Thank goodness it had only been two weeks since Momiji wrapped up, or she might have bombed her first impression!
A tap on her shoulder; she turned to see a broad-shouldered man holding a pad of paper and a pen.
"Excuse me, but, ah— are you Kyoko?"
Startled, she nodded, setting her lunch plate down. "I'm here for Kanae Kotonami. If I'm in the way, I'm sorry, I can see her back at our—"
"Can I get your autograph?"
Kyoko blinked at him. She pointed at herself, then at his pen.
"You're the actress that's going to play Mulan, right?"
"Well, it's not—"
"I saw that video, some freaky shit! My friend— he's a cameraman on your set, he sent it to me— sent it to me, you're just sitting up there smiling just like Peng! I could die, I mean, you weren't even supposed to be able to do that and you went and—"
"Do what, Kyoko-chan?" Cedric asked from beside her.
The dude spoke over her. "Climb the pole! It was a test to see her reaction and guts, and she freaking just did it. Who does that?" He held the paper out to her again, his smile wide. "Please?"
She took the paper, signing her name in kanji and English, handing it back to him with both hands and a polite bow. He grinned, thanking her before leaving.
"Already gathering a fan base I see," Cedric said, putting some fresh fruit on her plate for her.
She shook her head in wonder. "I confess I do not understand. I do not even have the part yet. It is presumptuous to think that merely because I succeeded in—"
Cedric cut her off with a thrilled laugh. "Merely? Climbed a telephone pole on set, no stunt person? Oh, you Japanese always understating everything. Disgusting in a man but in women... it's decided. You must call me Cedric-kun. Let's have dinner tonight."
"Ah, thank you, but I—"
"No buts. We can go to Sakura restaurant. You would be fetching in a kimono; did you bring one?"
"A kimono? No, it is not traditionally worn except—"
"I'm sure I could find one," he said, his eyes on her waist. "Though your frame is exceptionally delicate…"
She felt distinctly uncomfortable. "Duris-san, I have a—"
"Cedric-kun," he interrupted, stepping closer.
"I must insist—"
"Oh must you?"
He was too close now, his hand gripping the table, cornering her against the egg salad sandwiches. There were a hundred people around and not a single person was paying any attention! She had a sudden urge to grab a sandwich and throw it at his face. But she was here as Kanae's guest, and she would not bring shame onto her friend's name.
"Excuse me," she said as curtly as possible, pushing past him into the open. She strode away, finding Kanae over by a portly man who appeared to be the director by the way he was bullying everyone around him. She slowed her pace, uncertain if interrupting that chaos was wise. She saw a group of bored-looking extras and walked over to join them, smiling brightly.
"Hi, I'm Kyoko- may I join you?"
A young girl shrugged, not looking up from her cell phone. She was streaming some sort of video. It ended, the screen beginning Countdown to Next Video.
"Wait…" she said slowly, pulling her eyes away from the screen with obvious effort. "What'd you say your name was?"
"Kyoko," she offered brightly, holding her hand out to shake.
"Like… this Kyoko?" The girl held her phone out. The video had freeze-framed on a still of her with her legs swung out, her face carefree as she perched on top the thirty foot pole. She wouldn't soon forget the feeling of triumph that moment had given her, looking down on all the gape-mouthed faces.
"Yes, but why do you have that? I thought it was just… his…" She cast about for the cameraman unsuccessfully. "Ah, someone's friend's video."
"Someone's friend put it on YouTube," the girl answered, her voice making plain this was trivial.
"Oh."
She was being regarded with a new level of respect by the gangly preteens in the extra crew. A beat longer, and the entire set stood, clustering around her, questions pouring out of formerly taciturn mouths, demanding to know all about Mulan and the set and the climb and the cast and who in the holy heavens above was going to play Captain Shang.
Kyoko couldn't see Cedric anywhere. She forced herself to relax, reminding herself of the oddities cultural differences produced and how it was likely she'd misinterpreted his behavior. He was just trying to make her comfortable, in the most boorish stereotype-laden manner possible.
The extras claimed her as their own, showing her all the ins and outs of the massive set, decking her out in period clothing they nicked from the costume trailer ("no one ever misses these, we've used them to get in to the good stash of food for the main actors tons of times"), making her autograph the bathroom walls and, finally, dropping her off exhausted with her own chair to sit in next to Kanae's. She had just wilted into the seat when the two main leads came off-camera to join her.
Kanae smiled warmly at her, the adrenaline from acting still racing. Cedric spoke first, gliding between the two women.
"Fantastic job, Kanae, but you know- if you really wanted to nail the part of a proper young Asian woman you should study your friend some more. She's simply… perfect."
It was supposed to be a compliment, Kyoko thought, but the way he drawled out the word made her skin crawl. She shook her head in denial, looking at Kanae pleadingly. Kanae just looked pissed.
"Kyoko, I'm done for the day, let's go home."
Kyoko nodded eagerly.
"Wait for me. I'll just go change. Cedric," she said, dismissing him with a nod. The actor smirked, his eyes lingering on Kyoko before he wandered off. "Kyoko, pay him no mind. He's got some weird fetish for Asian women, he was like that with me too when I arrived. The sharp side of my tongue has disabused him of any ideas he may have had. Forget being a hostess- please, be Momiji."
Kyoko laughed, her spirits raised by Kanae's hushed diatribe. Her friend squeezed her arm and gave her another look, seeking reassurance.
"Momiji, I got it," she said. "Go change!"
Kyoko shooed her off, sitting in her chair. She started to text Kuon, but he had said he'd message when he arrived in L.A. and there was nothing yet. His flight must have been delayed. She sighed, stuffing her phone back in her pocket and headed to the front gate to wait for Kanae.
He met her halfway, his hand slipping out and catching her elbow as she strode, spinning her around to face him.
"Am I not good enough for either of you?" he snarled, his voice strangely tense. "Not submissive enough?" His eyes were wide, the whites showing around his pupils. He hurled his words at her. "You'd prefer some one-off with no masculinity." He leaned in, breathing deeply as if he were trying to inhale her. He shoved her, making her stumble backwards. She hit a wall, scraping her elbow. He was on top of her then, blonde hair falling forward over his face as he leaned down to stare directly into her eyes, his breath stale and hot. She tried to dodge to the side, but his arms pinned her, and when she ducked he grabbed her by the shoulder and forced her back.
"It's just because you've never tried a real man before." His lips pressed against hers, slimy and hot. She was flailing, pushing against him, trying to turn her face away. He let her, sliding his mouth down over her neck, his teeth grazing over her skin.
"Stop!" She cried out, beating on his chest. "Help!"
He covered her mouth with his hand, his eyes wild. "I thought Japanese women were quiet. Are you some slut version?"
She stared at him, her knees going weak. He'd lost his mind. Fear filled her at the very real danger she faced. She had one chance to get this right and get out of here - and get Moko out. She pretended to slump into a faint, making him drop his guard as he tried to catch her. She rocketed her knee up, slamming him in the crotch then chopping out at his neck with the broadside of her palm. His cry of pain became a gasp and he staggered backward, holding his throat and his balls. She ran blindly away, tears falling as she tried to remember the way to the exit.
"Kyoko!" A familiar voice.
"Kuon-" she gasped, pivoting mid-stride and running over into his arms.
"Kyoko, what-"
"Cedric, he, he-"
She felt a shift in him as the name passed over her lips. He was suddenly draw overly taut, like a new bowstring.
"Who."
"Cedric Duris, he-"
"Where."
She pointed, her finger shaking. Kuon nodded. He looked feral, like something inside him had been set free and it was raging for a kill. He stalked off, his eyes on the shadows where Cedric still crouched.
He reached down and pulled the man up by his collar. Cedric's eyes were still watery with pain, but blazed with unmistakable recognition when he saw his new accoster.
"You," he spat.
"Hello, cousin."
