"Knock knock, babe, let's get a fucking move on!"
Fallon's voice was muffled through the door that separated their rooms, but Kirby still felt herself jump to attention - even though she was already up. Something about the almost always authoritative tone that the brunette used as a default made her feel like she was never moving quickly enough, even when she was.
Putting down her lip gloss and heading over to the door, Kirby swung it open and immediately felt a little bump of smugness hit her when Fallon's expression turned to from one of impatience to pleasant surprise.
"Oh, you're like… ready."
"Yeah? You said 5 o clock."
Leaving Fallon in the doorway, she wandered back into her room and toward the bathroom to finish her makeup.
"Yeah, well, we aren't really leaving until 5:30, I thought you might need some wiggle room."
"Well, I didn't, but now you can buy me a coffee to fill our extra time."
Fallon sighed quietly but didn't protest - obviously she agreed that the terms were fair.
"What're you going to be doing while I'm interviewing?" She asked from where she was leaned against the counter in front of the mirror.
"What do you mean?" Fallon asked from the other room. "I'll be there."
Kirby poked her head out of the bathroom.
"You don't… have to. I'm sure I can handle being asked the same ten questions over and over again on my own."
"Wow." Fallon grinned at her from where she was perched on the edge of the bed. "Look how far you've come. Going from practically begging me to hold your hand, and now you're too cool for your own publicist to sit in on your press junket."
Kirby rolled her eyes, but immediately scooted back into the bathroom when she could feel a blush beginning to heat her face.
"Can't you just compliment me like a normal person?"
Fallon laughed, asking, "You've known me how long?"
"Six weeks," Kirby hummed, squinting at her reflection and then scrunching her hair between her hands.
There was a silent moment before Fallon laughed again.
"Jesus, and you didn't get me anything for our monthiversary ? Quick, how many days is six weeks? Hours? Are we going steady?"
Kirby poked her head out of the bathroom again.
"You're very annoying. But I'm glad you're feeling better."
That shut the brunette up, clearly not wanting to be reminded of the day they'd just had.
"All ready." Kirby emerged from the bathroom one last time and tossed her lip gloss into her purse, reaching over Fallon to scoop it up onto her shoulder. "Where are you buying me a coffee from?"
Fallon sighed as she stood, hiking her own bag up and starting toward the door.
"There's a Starbucks around the corner that we can make it to if we're quick."
"I'm always quick."
Kirby nearly smacked into Fallon's back as if the brunette had stopped dead in the doorway to process what she'd just heard, before continuing on, mercifully holding her tongue.
Once out of the hotel, Kirby took a moment to take in her new surroundings. The metropolitan area around them was glowing in the early evening light- busy, just like home, but with an entirely different feel. She wanted to walk around;blow off her interviews and spend the rest of the night wandering and enjoying being somewhere entirely new, but Fallon gently gripped her elbow and suddenly steered her to the left, around the corner and into the coffee shop before she could accidentally meander too far off.
"How many times have you been here?" Kirby asked her as she reapproached after leaving her to wait while she retrieved two coffees.
"What, in this Starbucks?"
"No, Chicago." Taking her cup gratefully and popping the lid off to let it cool down quicker, Kirby watched the brunette pick out a stir stick from the accessory bar and tuck it into her lid.
"I dunno. Fifteen, sixteen times?"
Kirby whistled lowly under her breath.
"It sucks we aren't here for longer."
"I guess," Fallon shrugged, leading her back out onto the street. "It's just a big city. We happen to live in one. They're pretty much all the same."
"How can you say that?" Kirby asked, rolling her eyes as she fell into step beside her.
Fallon scoffed. "You moved here from Australia. You of all people deserve to find LA, Chicago, whatever… ugly . If that wasn't where the work was, I think I would have left a while ago."
Kirby shrugged, thinking it over for a moment.
"I think LA is pretty."
Fallon just shook her head, sipping her coffee. Kirby wasn't sure if it was a disappointed gesture or one of dismissive disagreement, but the two of them fell into silence as they made their way back into the hotel lobby. Turning away from the bank of elevators that would have led them back to the room, the two women instead made their way to the conference hall and headed inside.
For the first time since the campaign had started, Kirby felt incredibly bored. The interviews were becoming repetitive, the slow increase in attention made her want to hide in her apartment half of the day, and not being allowed to actually enjoy her traveling or free time or even her money without Fallon breathing down her neck made her feel like she was trapped in a cage at the party of the year.
It was hard to stay enthused when almost everyone that she talked to hadn't even seen the movie. The questions felt completely baseless, and even though she'd enjoyed the trailer when it was first released, she was beginning to see that it sold a slightly different story than the one she'd felt like they were telling.
In the last screening that they'd had together as a cast and crew, she'd felt an excited energy in the room. They'd all made something good and everyone there was proud of it, but now, question after question about the men she'd worked with or the crew members that were previously famous for aggressive outbursts just made her feel like everything special they'd done was being tossed into the blender with the rest of the movies that were popping up before and after theirs.
The interviews blurred together, and more than once she found herself forgetting who it was that she was talking to, needing to be corrected on occasion. Not Buzzfeed , this was Yahoo. It was hard to keep her eyes from glazing over.
If this specific night of work was any indication for how the rest of the mini press junket was going to go, she was no longer even looking forward to New York. What good was it being in one of the greatest cities in the world, but stuck in a stuffy hotel room while being kept to a two-drink minimum by her publicist?
"Are you ready?" Fallon's voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and she glanced up, only to notice that the two of them were finally alone again. She'd auto-piloted through three short interviews without even paying attention. "You were staring off into space. You're not strung out, are you?"
"On what? Gravol and the single watered down cocktail I was allowed to have?" Kirby stood up, shaking the dryness from her eyes and then rolling them.
"Oh, you poor thing. A twenty dollar cocktail was all you were allowed to have while doing your job ."
Fallon started to lead the way out of the conference room with Kirby hot on her heels.
"Sorry for being tired from flying and then going straight to work right after," she huffed.
Fallon laughed sarcastically, speeding her steps up a little.
"Oh my god, you are literally the most ungrateful person I think I've ever met," Fallon informed her. "And that is really saying something, trust me."
"Ungrateful," Kirby repeated, following Fallon into the elevator and slamming the 'close doors' button before they could be followed. "I'm ungrateful ? I didn't say that I-"
"I've seen your apartment. Don't try to pretend not to comprehend how lucky you are. I know you're not that vapid."
Fallon's words froze her on the spot, but she snapped out of it to answer her.
" You are the one who said I was talented, not lu-"
"Lots of people are talented." Fallon cut her off. "Not all of them make six million dollars nearly overnight. That is what makes you sound like a brat."
Her words stopped Kirby altogether, and as the elevator doors dinged open, she stayed behind when Fallon stepped out, the doors nearly sliding shut and sending her back downstairs before she finally snapped out of it and followed her down the hallway.
"Fallon, you can't -"
Fallon slid her key card into her own door and turned around to Kirby before opening it, one eyebrow raised impatiently. What was she even going to say? You can't talk to me like that ? You can't say something like that and walk away ?
When no words came to her, Fallon nodded once and turned back around, pushing her door open and shutting it behind her with a soft 'click' before Kirby could follow.
Turning and heading into her own attached room instead, Kirby flopped down onto the freshly made bed face-first and groaned into her pillow.
She hadn't been totally correct - she knew Fallon just had a tendency to over-criticize and see the worst in her.
It wasn't that she was ungrateful, she just… worked hard. She wasn't used to the level of work she was being shoved into and it was an adjustment. Anyone with an ounce of empathy would have been able to see where she was coming from.
Still, though, she had… a bit of a point. It was a fairly hefty payday, and while the work had been and still was draining, she thought of her friends who were still pushing to keep their heads above the water while working just as hard.
Rolling onto her back and staring at the ceiling, Kirby blindly reached for her purse with one arm and pulled out both her wallet and cigarettes. She knew Fallon would know if she snuck out, which made her feel like a grounded teenager (though, she was pretty sure that was the exact phrasing and imagery that the publicist had been aiming for), but that didn't mean she was going to let herself lay there, bored and sober for the whole evening.
Sitting up and grabbing the hotel phone, she dialed for room service as she dug through her wallet and found her credit card as the call was picked up at the desk downstairs.
"Hi! I'd like to order up on a separate card, is that okay - yes? Thank you." She tried to sound both cheerful and keep her voice down in case Fallon heard her next door. "I wanted to know if the bar was still open - perfect. Could I please get…"
"It's like one step forward and two steps backwards, with you," Fallon greeted, loudly kicking the makeshift ashtray that Kirby had made out of an empty champagne bottle to the side.
Sitting up and wincing at the sunlight, Kirby groaned quietly and rolled her shoulders. Patio furniture was a terrible substitute for a warm bed.
"At least I'm wearing pants this time," she bargained.
She must've fallen asleep outside the night before, but she was shocked that the loud sounds of the traffic below hadn't woken her. A glance at the empty champagne bottles around her on the balcony explained that mystery pretty quickly.
"We have a flight to catch." Fallon's voice sounded considerably more tired than it did angry, and she handed Kirby her pack of cigarettes when they proved to be just out of her reach on the table.
"I think I'm still drunk," Kirby sighed, tucking a cigarette between her lips and lighting it before hoisting herself up to stand closer to the balcony railing.
"You know," Fallon made her way over as well, but after a quick glance over the ledge at the massive drop below, she turned her back to the view and looked at Kirby instead. "If this is what's going to make you happy, then fine. But you need to promise me you're going to show up and do the work."
Kirby looked over at her as she took another long drag, tilting her head away to keep her eyes locked on the brunette's as she exhaled away from their faces.
"I can do that."
"Okay. Then let's go. I already packed up your shit." Fallon's tone changed from gentle to all-business in one fell swoop, and she turned to make her way back into the room. "And put that out before you come in here, those extra cleaning fees are criminal!" She called from within.
Pulling the elastic off her wrist with her cigarette balanced between her teeth, Kirby pulled her tangled hair back into a bun and steeled herself for the hangover, tinged flight ahead.
One more city, and then home. She was beginning to miss her shitty little apartment already.