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Now, I may worry about you in Inkopolis,
But don't let my worry stop you.
I've been at sea,
And you've been at land,
But we're never really apart.
And I know others will care for you,
Just as you'll care for them.
"If you bake all of that for ten or fifteen minutes, you'll come out with delicious apple-cinnamon muffins," Marie says over the radio. She sets a timer for one minute, then taps one finger on the desk as she leans into the microphone, her eyes dancing. "And remember, squidlings: it's all fractions. This is math practice. And eating the delicious results will help you remember." The timer goes off, loud enough to be heard over the mic, and Marie smiles. "Speaking of which, I've gotta get myself some of those goodies. I need to play you an ad while I snag those. I know, I know, most exciting thing ever, but that's how the radio pays for this stuff."
She turns off the live mic and stretches. After the ads'll come a recording of her singing a hundred digits of pi, then she'll tell them more math practice and do the recording for a chocolate-cream pie. That's all taken care of, so she can get to her feet and leave the room, trusting everything to work as it should.
Don Caballo's waiting in the reception area. He hands her a mug of tea, and she smiles. "How did you know?"
"You're very much a creature of habit," he says, watching her sip it. "You do seem to have a knack for radio, though. Tomorrow's the question hour?"
Marie nods. She's been bringing in study materials, a dictionary and several textbooks, so people can hear her ruffle the pages and don't know she's just squiddling answers like she tells them not to do. No one's asked anything inappropriate on air yet, small favors, but if they do there's a one-minute delay between what's said in the booth and what's aired, and Marie can press a button to override sections of it with a recording of her saying 'That's an inappropriate question' while she hangs up and blocks their number.
So far, most call-ins have just wanted to freak out over talking to her, which makes her sigh. She likes kids. She'd love to help them with their homework or tell them stories, but she's spending too much time thanking people for being fans and hanging up as politely as possible.
If this is what winning Final Fest actually means, she almost wishes Callie had won it. Speaking of...
Her phone alarm goes off. Hearts pounding, Marie goes to a broom closet and shuts herself in. Here, alone, Marie calls Callie. She picks up with a tired, "Hey, Mar."
Marie's hearts squeeze. It is SO GOOD to hear Callie's voice. "Hey yourself," she says. "How long have you got?"
"About five minutes," she says. "Maybe ten; they want the courtroom as accurate as possible for this scene, and some pranking teens managed to sneak on-set and vandalize the juror's chairs yesterday." She pauses, then adds, a smile in her voice, "I was there when security caught them. I told them all I'd've given them autographs except for the vandalism, because the way they did it was super fresh, but instead they only got high five's."
Marie snorts. "Way to discourage them," she says, and leans against the wall.
"I know, but I couldn't be that mad," Callie says. "Not after what we did when we were thirteen."
"Hey," Marie says, "you started it. I was just along for the ride."
Callie laughs, and Marie smiles too. Cod, it's been a month or more since they've had time off at the same time. Now Marie's getting home when Callie's asleep and Callie's gone when she gets up.
"How's..." Callie breaks off into a sigh. "How's, um, the hideaway going?"
The new splatoon headquarters in Octo Canyon. "I'm not exactly an engineer, Cal," Marie says. "But it's in good shape. We could stay there for a night, if I was sure the roof could keep out rain." She's got the cabin with running water, electricity, and internet; what more could it need?
"Okay," Callie says, and lowers her voice conspiratorially. "And hows Drown?"
Marie's cheeks heat. "He's, um, he's fine," she says. "He's... I met his other partner, Sync, she's... she's really cute, too, and they seem to think I have an almost religious thing about my face mask, and—"
"Does he know who you are yet?" Callie interrupts.
"We've only been—I don't—not even three dates!" Marie cries.
Callie clucks her tongue. "I bet you haven't even kissed yet."
"You haven't kissed anyone either," Marie snaps.
"Just my costar," Callie says. "It was like getting a sucker stuck to my face." Marie sputters a laugh. "Anyway, before you go any further than kissing, I've gotta meet this guy, okay? Or both of them. Gotta make them Fear the Splat if they hurt you before you make me an auntie."
"Cal!" Marie glares at the wall, because Callie's not there. "I will not be making you an auntie any time soon."
"Well, yeah, but before you get up to any activities—oh, shoot, I've gotta go. Love you, Mar!"
"Love you too, Cal," Marie says, then Callie hangs up and she's more alone than ever.
They have a concert together next week. A weekend trip home after that. Two more concerts in October. She'll see Callie again.
But, cod, that doesn't help now.