Chapter Four
In which the ugliness of Hollywood is apparent.
TW: Alcohol (just some casual drinking, but JIC)
Mentions of an eating disorder
Sexual Assault (A character gets groped)
Finally dressed in Elizabeth's clothes, Cynthia waited in her makeup chair for Dezerea to get things set up.
"Thankfully," she began, popping one of the hair ties around her wrist. "I think I've got this look down, so I'll have you ready in no time."
Cynthia nodded, trying not to grimace. It was more or less her fault Dezerea had repeated this look more than necessary.
In the middle of her working, the two of them talking about nothing in particular to pass time, Cynthia's phone rang from her pocket.
Pulling her phone out, she looked up to Dezerea in the mirror. "Would it be okay if I took this and put it on speaker? It's my manager." She didn't want her phone to risk getting in the way of her work.
She nodded, still looking intently at all the hair in her hands. "Go for it. I'm not paying attention to anything other than your mane right now."
Sliding to answer, she was quick to hit the speaker button. "Hey, Mandy," she greeted. She hadn't spoken to her properly since the morning she left Sinnoh, so the thought of hearing her familiar voice was at least comforting.
"Hey, so, I've got Aaron, Flint, and Lucian with me here on speaker, is that okay?" she asked.
Cynthia laughed lightly, trying not to react too much as Dezerea then began to pull her hair up into its ponytail. "Sure, what's up? Lucian didn't lose, did he?" She also thought to ask where Bertha was, but figured it would get answered sooner or later.
"I am offended that you of anyone would insinuate that," he responded. His voice was a little distant, but grew louder as he likely walked towards the phone.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, wincing as Dezerea yanked at a knot in her hair. She peered around her head, mouthing "sorry" in the mirror.
"So, is a funeral in order or what?" Flint asked.
This was not how she had envisioned the conversation going. She figured Mandy was just wanting an update on how things were going, not getting harassed by her league members. "What is this even about? A funeral?" she asked. Their voices were too casual for anything to be of concern, but it was annoying her.
"Girl!" Aaron butted in. "Your fucking win streak!"
There was laughter on their end, and she thought to hang up right then and there. Instead, she just lowered the speaker volume. "Oh, spare me."
"You go off to be a big-time actress, and what do you do instead? Get your ass kicked on live television? Live…livestream? Whatever! You got your ass kicked!" Amanda spoke.
There was a laugh from Dezerea. "Oh, you got your ass kicked?"
"No!" She defended, watching as she walked around her chair to stand in front of her. "I held my own! I almost beat Diantha! She had to use mega evolution to beat me!" She wasn't even sure why she was defending herself. She had been fine with the loss, but was now thoroughly embarrassed.
Dezerea's dark burgundy lips curved into a smile. "Sounds to me like you still got your ass kicked," she teased.
Aaron's laugh could be heard. "I don't know who's talking, but I like them!"
"This is Dezerea, my stylist, and you all are making me really regret answering this," she introduced.
Dezerea leaned back up against the vanity. "Hey, Sinnoh League!" She then looked to Cynthia. "Gotta admit, you're probably the coolest person I've done hair and makeup for," she said.
Her cheeks warmed at the compliment, but she told herself that it was still from the embarrassment at the hands of her league.
"So, why do you all know about my loss, anyways?" Cynthia asked, hoping to steer the conversation away in some sort of direction, but failing miserably.
Mandy answered her. "Oh, you sent me that text, and I knew you were gonna get through to the finals. I just waited until this morning to watch your final match, and then you lost! To Diantha!"
"And then I–" Flint followed "–walked into her office to ask her to arrange something for me just as her jaw was about to hit her desk, and then I watched you lose and you know I can't keep my mouth shut!"
Dezerea kicked off the vanity, walking back around her. "I'm gonna get working on the grease. Hopefully this'll be the last time I have to do this for a while," she joked, lightly smacking her arm with the hairbrush.
For everyone's sake, she hoped so as well.
"So, if you all are just calling to make fun of me, I'm hanging up. I have to be on set here soon."
"Fine! Let me know if you need anything, and try not to get your ass kicked again!" Amanda said.
With a goodbye to her league, she hung up, then placing her phone on silent. It wouldn't go with her on set, but she figured it was probably best to do that, regardless.
"Alright, you're good," Dezerea said, stepping back from her work after a while.
Cynthia gave herself a quick look over. At this point, she was starting to get sick of the look and feel of all the fake grease covering her. Thankfully, not many other scenes required her to look so grungy.
"Thank you, Dezerea."
She put her hands on her shoulders, looking down at her through the mirror. "You can thank me by making sure you get this scene done this time," she joked. "Getting real tired of dirtying up your pretty face." She quickly retracted her hands, taking a large step back. "Sorry! That was probably too much–"
Cynthia laughed, amused with how she ended up flustering herself. "It's fine, Dezerea. I took it as a compliment."
She laughed nervously, still keeping her distance. "I'll just get out of your hair –literally."
Any other time, Cynthia might have found herself as equally flustered, but with how Dezerea usually projected nothing but confidence, Cynthia could only be amused by the whole situation.
With Dezerea out of the room, she figured she had only a handful of minutes before she would be called on set.
Alone, she felt anxiety quickly creeping up on her. Not wanting to give in to it, she forced herself to start the breathing exercises Diantha had done with her the previous day.
By the time she was called to head out, she felt at least ready enough to take on the challenge. She would get through the day.
Once on set, Watchog was quick to run up to Cynthia, chittering excitedly. "Morning, Tango," she greeted, reaching down to pat his head as they walked towards the directors.
Lita shot her a smile. "Everything good?" she asked.
Cynthia nodded. "I'm feeling far more confident than I was the other day."
Tom adjusted himself in his director's chair. "Good. I want to see real progress, okay?"
"Understood."
She was confident, in herself and in her lines, she reminded herself. She knew what she was doing.
"Ready when you are, my darlings," Diantha said, approaching the group with Alexander at her side.
Tom clapped his hands together, raising his voice to address everyone in the room. "Let's get this done! Get in your places."
With that, everyone began to walk off to get where they needed to be.
Diantha flashed Cynthia a red smile, which she was quick to return before returning her attention in front of her. Walking into something wouldn't set a good tone for the day.
Kneeling down between the cars, she took a deep breath, holding it in for a few seconds, before exhaling.
Everything is going to be fine. I know what I'm doing.
"Quiet on set!"
Cynthia felt her whole body flush with anxiety; praying she could work through it.
The clapperboard followed the scene and take numbers, and as before, with it, adrenaline pumped through her veins.
Watchog again placed a paw on her arm, making a visible breathing action, as if to remind her to do the same.
The familiar sounds of Alexander and Diantha's footsteps into the room echoed around her. "Elizabeth!" Alexander called.
She spared a glance at Watchog, a smile on her face.
She was confident.
Hauling herself up, she reminded herself to seem somewhat surprised to see them. Elizabeth hadn't been expecting Charles to follow up on whatever their initial conversation had been.
Reaching for the towel to wipe her hands on, she moved to step around the car. "So, you were serious?" she asked, giving Alexander her attention. As before, it was hard to ignore the look-over Diantha was giving her.
He grinned at her, shrugging his shoulders in a playful manner. "Do I seem like the kind of man who would lie?" he asked.
She breathed a laugh, tossing the towel onto a bench. It was a little delayed, but not enough to be of much concern. "You are the man with a $10,000 bounty on his head. I'm sure it comes with the territory," she said dryly.
He shoved both his hands into his pants pockets. "Fair point." He then turned towards Diantha, nodding his head in Cynthia's direction. "Scarlet, meet Elizabeth Park. The answer to all our problems."
He had missed a word, but no deal was made of it as they continued on. A confidence booster.
Waving for Watchog to join her, she walked closer to them, and Klinklang hovered off just to the side.
She smirked, returning the lookover Diantha had given her. The line suddenly felt easy, as if it was just playful banter with a friend. "Well, well, well. The Kiss of Death herself. It's a pleasure to meet you."
She offered out a hand to Diantha, who reacted perfectly with disgust at the faux grease that still covered them.
Diantha gave her another look-over, this time appearing less interested than before, then looked up to Alexander, her voice lowered. Which, in some ways, Cynthia found amusing, because she could clearly still hear her.
"A woman with a Watchog? You've got to be kidding me."
She allowed herself to laugh naturally, Watchog snickering along with her. She took her hand back. "Think I'm not fast enough for you?"
"Hardly," she scoffed.
"Trust me, babe. If I'm not fast enough for you, I'll turn myself in." Terms of endearment were never Cynthia's thing, so it presented her with a small challenge to keep the grin on her face through the whole exchange.
She persisted.
With a quick nod of her head, she motioned for the two of them to follow her towards the back room, making it the first official time they made it to the actual cutoff.
"Cut!" Tom called, a tinge of delight in his voice. "Get the next shot in place!"
The camera crew moved around, getting in position so nobody would be in the others way for the next scene.
"Keep up the momentum!" Tom encouraged.
Cynthia nearly jumped as Diantha grabbed her hand, offering her a quick squeeze of assurance. "Excellent work so far, darling," she said, just as quick to let go.
"Damn good momentum," Alexander commented.
"Quiet on set!" Lita again called the scene numbers, and it was unexpectedly refreshing to hear different numbers.
They began to walk into the back room area, Klinklang joining up on Cynthia's other side.
The car itself was from the 50's, despite the era they were portraying being closer to the 20's. A black Cadillac that showed considerable age, but fit the scene well.
Diantha followed closely, making sure to act appropriately unimpressed with the car in front of her.
She looked to Cynthia, who was already leaning against the hood with Watchog, Klinklang hovering away from the car.
"Are you sure this thing is fast enough? Looks like a hunk of junk, to me." She then looked up to Alexander, pointedly adding, "No better than William's, honestly."
He nervously looked away to Cynthia, as if to beg her to back him up in some way, or at least explain why he picked her of all people.
She laughed lightly, giving her a look over that could easily fluster any seasoned actress. Which it did. "I'm not giving away my secrets until I actually have your trust," she said.
Returning the look-over one last time, just the action of allowing herself to quickly trail up her legs and linger in a few places before settling on her face had Diantha feeling some kind of guilty way.
Angling herself away from Cynthia, she looked up to Alexander. "She gets one shot." She then leaned in, adding, "And if she fails to impress me, you're going the way of William." Later editing would make it more obvious that Elizabeth wouldn't actually overhear that line.
Alexander laughed nervously, taking a step back from her.
Secretly, Diantha did wish she was actually as intimidating as the woman she was portraying.
"Now," she continued. "Get me out of here before the smell of oil soaks into my good coat."
They both turn away fully, intent on walking back towards the first room.
"It's been lovely, Kiss of Death," Cynthia said, realizing there was something mocking in her tone. Maybe it worked. Maybe not.
Diantha slowed her pace. "I'll return the sentiment once you've impressed me." She then stopped to throw a look over her shoulder. "And know I have very high expectations."
They walked off into the main room, stopping when Tom enthusiastically called out, "And cut!" The clapperboard followed, and she had never been more relieved to hear the sound.
Walking off set together, Tom and Lita were quick to greet the three. Though, their focus was more on Cynthia. "Holy hell!" Tom said. "I don't know what you two did, but I'm very glad you did it!"
Lita nodded. "That one run was far better than all of the past few days combined!"
Cynthia let go of a sigh. "I'm glad you think so," she said, doing her best to keep her anxiety out of her voice. She had been able to do so once things got moving on set, but now that the cameras had stopped rolling, it was creeping back in.
Excitement and relief were evident in Tom's tone. "We'll run that back again. I want us to get the best take possible. This time, Cynthia, I want you to really haul yourself up from the car. Elizabeth has been working hard all day, and it's all she ever does. And for both of you, I think you need to exaggerate your look-overs a little more. Towards the end there, Cynthia, you had it down. And Alex, watch the body movements. Other than that, that was incredible!"
Making a mental note to herself, Cynthia felt the tension easing out of her shoulders. She had done it. She had finally gotten through the first scene they were filming. While there were likely many retakes in her future, she had gotten through at least the first one.
"Gotta ask," Alexander said, looking between Cynthia and Diantha. "What the hell did you two do? Thought for sure I was going to have to get between you two yesterday."
Diantha almost laughed. While he obviously hadn't been her focus, she was pretty sure he wasn't looking to get between them at all. Watchog had been the only one to actually do it.
Lita and Tom looked on, also interested in the answer.
"We handled it like two champions. We battled," she simply put.
That piqued everyone's interest. "Oh, dang! Must have been a good battle! Who won?" Tom asked.
Cynthia was about to tell him, but Diantha beat her to it. "It doesn't really matter, does it? As you said, it was a good battle."
Both directors and Alexander began to laugh. "Means you lost, huh?" Lita said.
Cynthia shook her head. "No, she beat me at the last second. Tends to be how most champion battles go. It's always down to the wire." She wasn't about to not let Diantha receive credit where it was due.
"Okay, Miss Modesty," Tom joked.
She shrugged in response, rolling her eyes in a good-natured way. "I didn't want to brag," she said. "But yes, I won."
"You'll have to tell us more about it on break!" Tom said, before taking a step back with Lita. "But let's go ahead and take it from the top!"
With a nod, the three actors began to head back to their original spots.
Watchog scurried ahead, not taking notice that Cynthia had been stopped by Diantha.
"Excellent work, darling." Cynthia hadn't realized that she missed hearing her regular speaking voice. "I'm loving your confidence."
She smiled, looking away from her, almost embarrassed from the praise. "Don't jinx me yet," she joked.
She just shook her head, turning to walk towards Alexander. "Best of luck, my dear."
With the final call of Cut, and a round of praise from both directors, the studio was alive with an excited energy. Sheer, unadulterated joy practically radiated off everyone, and with the promise of things starting to move in the right direction, many of the cast and crew had decided a small celebration was in order.
"Alexander wanted me to tell you to invite Cynthia to join us! We'll all go out for drinks! First round is on me!" Michael had told Diantha.
She wasn't entirely sure if any of it was going to be Cynthia's scene, but there wasn't any harm in asking. When she had gone to cast and crew outings on the previous project, she always had a decent enough time. If nothing else, witnessing Michael and a few of the PA's drunkenly, and very passionately, sing karaoke was worth every minute of being out late.
The second she was in the doorway to Cynthia's dressing room, her reflection caught Cynthia's attention. "Do you have a moment?"
She turned around to face her, still wiping her hands down with a makeup remover cloth. "Sure, what's up?"
There was still an excitement in her voice that Diantha found utterly infectious. The idea of going out tonight seemed better and better. "I was invited to go with some cast and crew to dinner tonight, and I wanted to extend that invitation to you, as well." She leaned against the doorframe. "Think of it as celebrating getting through this."
She laughed to herself a bit, throwing the wipe into a bin before grabbing another off the makeup tray. "A little early to be celebrating, don't you think?" she asked, something playful in her tone.
Diantha figured it wasn't an outright no. "Always celebrate the little things, darling. Let me buy you a drink for your hard work. Or something to eat, if you don't drink," she quickly amended.
"How hard would I have to push my luck to get both?" The thrill of getting through the first official scene was going directly to her head. She didn't care how anything came across.
Diantha realized it was almost too easy being around her. "Admittedly, I don't think you would have to push very hard." In fact, she probably wouldn't have to even push at all.
She laughed again. "I'll settle for a drink." She tossed the makeup wipe into the bin, looking over her hands. It had taken quite a few of the wipes to get all the grime off, and now she desperately wanted to wash them with soap to get the greasy feeling of makeup remover off. "Any idea where we're going?"
She shook her head, pushing off the doorframe. "No, Alexander won't make up his mind, and it's driving me insane."
"Think he's going to pick somewhere you won't like?" she asked, beginning to pull her hair out of its confines. The instant relief from letting her hair loose added to her overall euphoria.
She shrugged. "I just have a weird thing about wanting to know the menu ahead of time."
She nodded along, running her fingers through her hair, reveling in the feeling, only to wince when she snagged a knot. The faux grease had dried up well into the day, and was now going to make for a difficult time to comb through.
"Do you need some help, darling?" she asked.
"No, Dezerea said she'd be right back. Something about a remover that would get this out of my hair without making it feel greasy."
She laughed to herself, forcing herself to turn away. "Feel free to invite her along as well. Alexander said to meet out on the terrace when we're ready."
"Sounds good."
For the group, Alexander ended up choosing a bar on the east side of Castelia called Lanturn's Keep. The bright, neon Lanturn appeared throughout the bar that occupied three floors of a skyscraper. It was smoky, dark, and the music on the first two floors was far too loud.
The third floor at least had access to a balcony, offering some relief from the cigarette smoke.
Cynthia and Diantha, after socializing with the group for a while, sat in a booth close to the door, neither in the mood to get pulled into dancing or anything else.
A breeze rolled in from the door, sending a chill up Diantha's back. Which reminded her that she hadn't returned Cynthia's jacket like she had said she would.
Hand over the top of her drink, she turned to look at Cynthia. "So, I realize I completely forgot to bring your jacket back with me."
Cynthia's shoulders rose in a laugh, taking a long sip of her drink. Something fruity and much weaker than her first. "Don't worry about it. It's fine," she said. Truth be told, she had completely forgotten about it. Though, an easy thing to do in her current state.
"Can I ask what brand it is? It's so nicely weighted I think I want one for myself," she said.
Cynthia reached for her phone, having it written down in a note somewhere. "It's from Hoenn. Steven's big into weighted clothing, and yeah." She found the note, passing her phone to Diantha.
She looked it over, quick to search for it on her own phone. "So, you and Steven are pretty close," she said, keeping her eyes on her phone. She was going to have a jacket ordered by the end of the night.
Cynthia laughed. "I know that tone!" she said, nudging her.
Diantha returned the nudge. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You want to know if there's anything between me and Steven," she continued.
"Is there?" she asked, taking her attention from her phone. The answer she was going to get from Cynthia was suddenly far more interesting.
She shook her head. "No, never has been, and never will be. We joke around a lot, but despite how well we get along, I've just never…I don't know. I've never had romantic feelings for him, and he's not even someone I'd want to casually hookup with."
Diantha was well aware that if she had another drink in her, she would have asked, "Who is someone you would have a casual hookup with?" But thankfully for her own self-preservation, she only had about half a drink in her system.
Cynthia continued, "But I can't tell you how many times we've both been asked if we're together. Ever since my first international meeting as champion. He was the first person to talk to me there, and since I was so anxious about being so new to being a champion, I just…clung to him a bit, I guess. That probably didn't help any."
Diantha laughed lightly, returning to her phone. "I have the same rumors surrounding myself and Siebold, so I understand."
"I think I've heard that, once," Cynthia said, taking another sip of her drink.
Diantha thought to tell her that, the funny thing was that there was someone in her league she actually had slept with before, but the media never caught onto that. Instead, they chose to keep speculating that there was a relationship between her and a man who was openly gay.
She figured they weren't close enough yet for her to share that story.
They fell into a natural silence, listening in to the noise around them. People dancing, some singing along badly to the music, conversation, and distantly Michael's voice could be heard from the general direction of the pool tables.
"Oh, my," Diantha suddenly said, frowning at her phone.
"Everything okay?" Cynthia asked.
She nodded. "Yes. It's just the shipping estimate is three weeks on that jacket."
Maybe it was the alcohol at that point talking, or maybe it was the memory of how cute she found her in her jacket. "You can hold onto mine 'till you get yours." It was probably a combination of the two.
"Darling, are you sure about that?"
If it wasn't a combination of the two, it was definitely now linked with getting called 'darling' all the time. "I brought another, so it's fine."
The look Diantha gave her told her she was trying not to laugh.
"It's a good jacket! You said so yourself," she defended.
She could only laugh at her, hitting the option to place her order.
She was about to say something when Dezerea slid into the booth in front of them. She looked at Cynthia with a grin on her burgundy lips. "You promised me a game of pool," she said.
Wracking her tipsy brain, she remembered saying something along those lines. "I did, didn't I?"
She nodded, pushing her loose braids out of her face. "Can I steal you awhile?" she asked.
Cynthia looked to Diantha, not wanting to just abandon her.
She waved her off. "Go, have fun. I'll join you once I've had some water."
With that, Cynthia slipped out of the booth, walking with Dezerea off into the crowd. Diantha made sure to note the general direction they were headed in, but remained in her spot.
She didn't really need water, but also didn't feel the need to intrude on Cynthia's time with Dezerea. Especially after seeing how the makeup artist had been giving her a look that flustered even Diantha.
She found herself wishing she could at least be in the position to give those looks.
Still in her hand, her phone began to ring. Mel's contact popped up on the screen.
For a split second, she realized she could. In one phone call, she could answer, leave him, and then be free to make eyes at anyone.
She pushed the thought aside. That was a conversation to have with herself when she was completely sober…
With things finally settling into something more regular and consistent, Cynthia found herself easing into everything far better than she thought she ever would. It was easy to get herself into the schedule of going over the scenes for the next day the night before, and getting in touch with Diantha whenever she needed a second opinion.
If filming happened to end at a reasonable hour, they would usually go get dinner together, Cynthia happy to let her pick wherever she wanted to go. Not having to think about where to go left her with more time to think about things she wanted to ask.
Along with that, things back in Sinnoh were running smoothly. Her league had only received one official summon from a trainer. Aaron had been quick to deal with them.
While she was still worried they wouldn't be able to hold everyone off, it was something she was at least able to refrain from thinking about too much.
Instead, she immersed herself in the world of filming, figuring out what she did and didn't like. Anything dealing with the green screen was ranked at the very bottom. At best, the scenes were awkward as hell. Having to react so dramatically to things that weren't even present was a pain. With a little talk from Diantha, she at least wasn't alone in the feeling.
With the end of the third week of filming, a good portion of green screen work had been completed. There was still more to do, but for now, they were returning to general action scenes, and would soon be moving onto location takes.
Thursday quickly came to an end, and instead of plans with Diantha, Dezerea had asked her out. She tried not to think about any of the implications or possibilities of what could come out of the night, otherwise her anxiety would ruin everything.
While waiting for her in the main lobby, Diantha approached her. "Well, my dear, that was a good day," she said casually.
It had been an easy enough day. They only had to shoot a small scene from one of the bank heists. A few of the actors that played the local law enforcement had come in for the day, and the more people there were to coordinate, the slower things went. All things considered, it was one of the easiest days yet.
"I agree," Cynthia said, adjusting her weight to one foot. "Have any plans tonight?"
Thinking she was about to ask her to join her for something, she shook her head. "No, but I'm afraid it's because I'm exhausted. The week three slump is starting to hit me," she said. For her, the third and fourth week of filming were always the most difficult to get through on a long project. The momentum and excitement from starting something new always tended to wear off by then.
Cynthia nodded. "I'm glad that's a universal thing," she joked. "I have plans with Dezerea tonight, and I'm still processing how I feel about that." Would she get in trouble for seeing her off set? Surly not. She had gone out with other crew members before, as a group.
"Oh?" Diantha asked, caught off guard. "Is there a group going out, or…?"
She shook her head. "No, just the two of us."
She grinned at her, not knowing what else to do. "I hope you have fun."
She only hummed in response.
Briefly, Diantha wondered why Cynthia would be going through with something if she was so anxious about it. Then again, maybe she was anxious in a good way.
She noticed that the two of them tended to get along, Dezerea always stealing her off on her own during group outings.
Diantha thought to question her some more, but stopped herself when she heard someone approaching them.
"Ready to go?" Dezerea asked Cynthia, pulling her old messenger bag across her body.
Cynthia nodded, turning away from Diantha. "I'll see you later, Diantha," she said before walking away with Dezerea.
"Like I said, it's a bit of a dive bar, but I think you'll like it!"
Diantha stood in her spot, still not quite sure of what to think. At the very least, she would definitely have to razz Cynthia later, because it was the only thing distracting her from the feeling that had already begun to well in her chest. It wasn't a feeling she liked or welcomed. She reasoned with herself that it was a feeling she shouldn't even have in the first place.
Envy.
So, forcing it down, she began to head in the opposite direction for a different exit. Thankfully, the building had plenty of those. However, as luck would have it, she ended up nearly walking into Alexander.
"Hey! Just who I was looking for!"
The sour mood she was finding herself in only worsened. "Hello, Alexander." She found herself calling him by his full name to his face as of late. It was a subtle reminder that they weren't close friends. They were on good terms as coworkers, and nothing more.
"Me and a couple of the film crew were going to go get dinner. Wanna join?" he asked.
She shook her head, taking a step towards her exit. "I would, but I'm exhausted, and just want to head home. Another time, Alexander," she told him.
He smiled at her. "Oh, come on," he continued, putting a hand on her shoulder. He was getting far too touchy lately, but she didn't want to overreact to nothing. "It's just dinner."
"Another time," she repeated, walking away. It was final, and she wasn't about to let him try to convince her. She let her own boyfriend do that more than enough…
Up in her apartment, she gathered what she needed to ensure her team was fed for the night. Just before she could walk out the door, she stopped herself. Walking back into her room, she grabbed the dark jacket off her bed, throwing it around herself.
Dezerea might have had Cynthia for dinner, but she still had her jacket. It didn't matter that it was too large on her. It was warm and well-weighted, and her perfume still lingered on it.
A thought that the more she gave credit to, the more pathetic she sounded, even to herself. She had nothing to be envious about. She and Cynthia were on good terms. Maybe even enough to be called friends. At the very least, they were past amicable coworkers, and it was already more than she could have ever asked for.
But as she made her way down to the courtyard so she could release both Tyrantrum and Aurorus safely, all she could think about was the last international meeting, held in Sinnoh.
She had so badly wanted to at least talk to Cynthia, hardly having done so up to that point, but she was far more intimidating that she would likely ever know. And it wasn't just her prowess on the battlefield, or anything else pokémon related.
It was the simple fact that Diantha found her to be every bit her type. Intelligent, passionate, and it helped that, physically, she was also very appealing. Diantha would be lying if she said she wasn't absolutely weak when it came to a tall woman.
But the guilt of admitting all of that when she had a boyfriend ate at her constantly.
So, instead of confronting that guilt, she had too many glasses of wine over a dinner shared with Siebold, and then complained to him about how gorgeous she found her to be, and that she hated that she could do nothing about it.
Siebold had merely given her blunt advice in response.
"Dump him and talk to Cynthia. I don't know what else to tell you."
Even now, as she tried to force the thoughts away, it ended up being all she could think of. She tried to tell herself to focus on the positives of her situation.
Again, they were talking and working together now, and in comparison to where they were during the first week of filming, it was almost a miracle in its own right. They had fun together on set, able to make light of small mishaps and goofs. Cynthia came to her when she had a question, or wanted to run an idea by her, or even just to tell her about some mishap during a filming day where they weren't working together.
It was all far more than she could ever ask for.
Yet, despite it, she still found herself wishing she were in a position to where she could do something about it –whatever it was.
But she couldn't, she told herself. She had far too much history with Mel. Four years worth of history. Despite his many shortcomings, the thought of leaving him for something so superficial left a heavy weight in her chest. It wasn't enough of a reason.
Out in the courtyard, Diantha set upon her task of tending to her pokémon. It felt good to finally set down her bag that was weighed with the specialized food for Tyrantrum and Aurorus.
Upon being released, Gardevoir, being the loyal companion that she always was, began to help Diantha ration out their servings. Though, throughout the evening, she stuck a little closer than normal. Diantha knew it was her way of comforting her as much as possible. Being so in-tuned with one another, all of her envy and frustration was clear to her.
Her pokémon began to dig in eagerly, making grateful noises as they were given their food.
Now and then, a few of the complex's staff would come out to offer their assistance. Sitting comfortably on one of the lawn chairs, she would shoo them away with a thank you. For the time being, she just wanted to spend a peaceful evening with her pokémon, listening in to the city outside the courtyard.
The cold night air was not aided by the natural chill that emanated from Aurorus's body. Pulling Cynthia's jacket closer to her person, she was momentarily comforted by the warm undertones that still clung to the fabric.
Before she could let go of the sigh that had built in her chest, her phone began to ring from her bag. The tone told her it was Mel. He was the last person she wanted to speak to at the moment.
But, in knowing that, she told herself it was more important than ever to answer. Not just because he would get frustrated with her if she didn't, but because it would keep all those thoughts of envy at bay.
Gardevoir gave an audible hum as she answered the phone.
"Hello, darling," she greeted as she always did.
"Hey, babe."
As always, the conversation quickly dissolved into being one-sided. Recognizing it early on, Diantha struggled to not let her thoughts stray into where they shouldn't. With him rattling on about a project she genuinely had zero interest in, it was fighting a losing battle.
"Oh, before I forget!" he said, breaking off from the topic he had been on. "Wanted to let you know I'll be in Unova not this coming week, but the next. Should be in the region for a month or so for our first round of filming."
She perked up at that. Getting to see him might have been just what she needed. After all, it had been a few months since they last saw one another in person, both being booked solid for filming matters. "Really? Would you–"
"But, unfortunately, I doubt I'll be able to make it up to Castelia to see you at all."
As quickly as her hopes were brought up, they came crashing down. "Then why bother telling me in the first place, Mel?"
"Just in case Andrew–" His manager "–says anything to Kathi Lee, and then she says something to you. Didn't want you getting mad at me."
He had hardly spared himself that. "To be honest, I'm mad that you're going to be in the same region as me for the first time in months, and you're not even going to try to come see me. Can you at least tell me where you're going to be at, so I can try to come see you?" With no other projects and most weekends off, she had plenty of time to make for him.
He made a disapproving sound. "I'm going to be pretty slammed, babe. We'll be filming at The Motel Bar in Mistralton, and I just don't know how much time I'll have. I'm directing, remember?" With how much he brought it up, she had hardly forgotten. "I'll keep in touch, and if I have some down time, I'll let you know."
"Mel," she complained, dragging it out.
Gourgeist had abandoned her food, coming over to her. She rested her tendrilly arms on her legs, trying to offer her some comfort. Diantha put her free hand over them, giving her pokémon a forced smile.
By then, the rest of her pokémon had slowed their eating, keeping a careful eye on her.
At the very least, she was grateful for their unwavering support. Even if they didn't understand every little detail, their love for her brought her comfort.
"Babe, you know that's the nature of the beast we both work with," he reminded her.
She told herself to drop it; to leave well enough alone. It wasn't a lie, but it didn't comfort her any. If anything, it worsened the weight in her chest.
Before she could convince herself to just accept it, "Why?" slipped out, and from there, she couldn't stop herself. "Why do we keep doing this? Why do we stay together when we have hardly any time for each other? Why do I bother with a man who can't even make an effort to see me? Why do I bother with a man who enjoys nothing but one-sided conversations –you haven't even asked how my project is going and I've been here for almost three weeks now!" She felt the sting of tears at the corners of her eyes, making it a challenge to keep her voice even. "Why? Why do we do this, Mel?"
Gourgeist hummed low, frowning up at her, and gripping her hand harder in support.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Diantha, you're– let's not get rash here. Let's think with a clear head–"
"I am thinking clearly!"
"No, babe, you're tired, it's been a long day. It's getting late in Unova, and knowing you, you've been up since dawn. Go get some sleep, and you'll feel better in the morning."
She let go of Gourgeist's tendrils, making a flippant gesture with it. "I highly doubt that will change my mind."
He sighed. "I mean…I don't know what to tell you, Diantha. We both have busy lives, that's just a fact. I understood that when I asked you to be with me, and before me, nobody understood that –your words! Before me, you had nobody, and you were bouncing around from person to person because nobody would commit to you because of your schedule. I'm the only one who understands, Diantha. That's why we do this."
Just like that, all the fight in her vanished. Like he always did, he talked her out of it.
"Fine. You're right. I know. I'm sorry." Because she did know. She knew above all else, leaving him would leave her with nobody.
Besides, it's not like she believed she had anything Cynthia could ever possibly want. Cynthia might have been every bit of her type, but she didn't believe she was any bit of Cynthia's. She had little in common with Dezerea.
"I'll call you again when it's the morning for you. Please, get some sleep. You'll feel better about everything in the morning."
She forced herself to keep all emotion out of her voice. "Fine. Goodnight."
"Love you. Get some sleep."
She just barely managed to get the words out. "Love you, too. Bye."
With a heavy sigh, her head fell back on the chair, and she was now looking up into Aurorus's eyes. Her long neck craned over to be in her face, a noticeable chill coming off it.
Reaching a hand up, her scaly skin was colder than she expected. "Hello, darling."
She murmured a low, reverberating response. One she felt in her chest.
Sitting up properly, she looked out over her team. To her biggest surprise, even Tyrantrum had stopped eating. He was normally a pokémon that couldn't be stopped, no matter what.
With a steadying breath, she forced a smile. "Finish your food, darlings. I'll be fine," she said.
A few uneasy murmurs of protest was their response, but eventually, they resumed. Hawlucha grabbed her food, moving closer to sit by Diantha. She ate in silence, but it was the simple motion that touched her.
Looking to Gardevoir, she saw that she hadn't touched her food at all.
"I know it's not your favorite, but you need to eat, too, dear."
She merely stared at her in response.
Diantha knew exactly what she was getting at. "I will eat when I'm back in the apartment."
It was something that was hard to put into words. While Gardevoir's communication with her wasn't exactly in words or phrases that were understandable in French or English, there was almost a mental weight to it that got her point across.
A reminder that she hadn't eaten since the morning, and even then, it hadn't been much.
"I promise you, Gardevoir. I will be fine. You can even stay out to see to it that I do eat." A mistake in words.
All of her pokémon then looked to her expectantly. They also wanted to stay outside their poké balls for the night.
She regretted saying it, because both Tyrantrum and Aurorus couldn't be out in her apartment since they were too large in both height and weight.
She sighed. "I promise, my darlings. When I finally settle down and have a house designed, I will make sure there is a large sun room, big enough for all of you to be out at the same time." Considering both pokémon were over ten feet in height and length, it would have to be quite the sunroom.
Sirens from a fire engine passing the complex grabbed everyone's attention. Once it was out of ear shot, all resumed their eating, Gardevoir reluctantly joining in.
Once they were all done, she gave them some individual attention, then recalled them for the night. Gardevoir helped her collect everything, offering to bring it back up to the apartment with her.
The ride up the elevator was in silence, Gardevoir keeping a careful eye on Diantha the whole way.
With all their dishes in the sink, Diantha turned to face her pokémon, holding her poké ball out to her.
Red light surrounded Gardevoir as she attempted to recall her, but it broke off with a sharp sound.
She sighed heavily, placing her poké ball atop the island counter. "You're going to protest going in your ball until you see me eat, aren't you?"
She gave a strong nod.
While frustrated with her pokémon, she reminded herself that it was coming from a place of caring; and from a place of witnessing what could happen if she didn't keep track of her eating.
Headaches that spiraled into lack of energy.
Expending far more energy than she was taking in, leading to stomach pains that would bring her to her knees, and nearly fainting anytime she stood too fast.
If she was able to keep herself on a schedule of some sort, things would get better and stay steady for a long enough time to maybe fool herself that nothing was wrong, and that it was all just in her head. But in the middle of a meal with someone, intrusive thoughts, that sounded an awful lot like the voice of her mother, would tell her, "They think you're disgusting for eating that. Stop eating that before you get fat."
It had been phrased in varying ways all her life by her mother, as if it truly was the worst thing a person could be in life.
Fat.
Not mean and manipulative. Someone who only cared about themselves, and never another person. Someone who didn't care who they stepped on to get where they wanted in life. Someone who refused to show empathy. Or maybe even someone who took the life of another.
No. None of it could have possibly been worse than being fat.
While she knew it was a ridiculous notion, it was hard to shake the things she had grown up hearing.
In the year and a half she spent in therapy for her anxiety, she rarely brought up her eating habits. She would always dodge any questions relating to it by saying she had a high metabolism, or that she had just gotten into some bad habits and nothing more. It would usually get dropped after that, the only thing her counselor ever pressing on was, "Would you treat your pokémon like that?" in reference to her "forgetting" to eat all day and then eating a lot at night.
Her answer was always a firm no.
She had then been told to share her meals with her pokémon, because they out of anyone wouldn't care about what or how she ate. They wouldn't make comments, or turn up any annoying articles if she got something on her face or clothing.
Remembering that, she thought to maybe try working that back into things.
A low hum from Gardevoir brought her out of her thoughts. She knew she was starting to spiral into all the whys.
"Fine, fine," she said, forcing herself to begin rummaging around her kitchen for something to put together.
The sparseness of everything made her realize she would need to put in an order for grocery delivery at some point.
With what little she had, she settled for a soup, bread, and some cheeses. While not the best meal in the world, it was better than some of her "meals", and would satisfy Gardevoir at the least.
Once finished with all preparations, she moved her meal to the balcony, where Gardevoir followed close behind.
The city in front of them shimmered under the glow of the nightlife. Had she any extra energy, she might have taken part of it. For now, she would sit back and recoup, reminding herself over and over that eating was a good thing. It felt good to eat. It would give her energy for later. Gardevoir was happy that she was eating, evident by the more pleasant energy that was now coming off her in small ripples.
Above all else, her mother wasn't there to berate her for every little thing. She was far away in Kalos, where she only had to interact with her during family affairs. Which, thankfully, weren't going to happen until the end of the year towards the winter holidays, if everything went accordingly.
That combined with a comfortably full stomach was enough to elevate her own mood.
She and Gardevoir spent a little more time out on the balcony, enjoying the night air. Eventually, Diantha started dozing off, so she forced herself to get up and take everything to the kitchen. Tossing it all into the sink with some water and dish soap, it was a problem for the morning.
Finally, Gardevoir returned to her poké ball without protest.
After getting ready for bed, sleep came easily to her, lulled off by thoughts of what a future sunroom would look like, and what it would feel like to be able to have all her pokémon out for a night.
In her sleep, she dreamt of an impossibly large sunroom, filled with lush greenery and a large water feature. Aurorus and Tyrantrum slumbered by the water. They were far smaller than their actual size, but since it was a dream it went unnoticed. Between her pokémon, Cynthia's Garchomp snoozed away, rolling onto her back to soak up the warmth.
A laugh at Diantha's side caught her attention. Cynthia stood with her, laughing at something that had been said, but whenever she tried to recall what, she couldn't remember.
Instead of trying to figure it out, she went along with it, choosing to instead think about how warm everything felt, and how easy it was to be in her company.
When the morning came far too soon, memories of the dreams all but faded away, leaving her with only the vague memory of someplace warm.
Sitting in the front seat, waiting on Alexander and Braixen, Diantha gave Cynthia a quick look over. She kept a relaxed grip in the fake steering wheel, her other hand absently petting Watchog as he sprawled out in her lap.
"So," she began, waiting for Cynthia's attention. "If I may ask, how was your date last night?" She might have enjoyed the look on her face a little too much.
"I mean, it wasn't a date-date," she tried to defend, but Diantha wasn't having any of it. Giving her a pointed look was all it took for her to drop the charade. "It was fine. We just went out to dinner at a bad dive bar. Had a lot of fun, but she and I are pretty incompatible in the long run." Watchog hog chuckled under her hand.
Her answer took her by surprise. "Really? If you don't mind me asking, how so?"
She shrugged, taking her hand off the steering wheel to rest her arm on the center console. "We got to talking about how we had both been in weddings recently, and she made an offhanded comment about how she would never get married." She shrugged again, smiling down at Watchog, who was eating up her attention. "I'm definitely not looking to rush into anything, but marriage is something I would want someday. I don't need to try to change her mind or anything."
She spoke very casually, indicating she wasn't bothered by it in the least.
It left Diantha feeling proud in a sense. Maybe another emotion –relief?– but she wouldn't let herself think about it too much. "I'm very proud of you for that," she told her.
It caught Cynthia off guard. "Really?"
"Of course. I feel like it's a very ingrained thing in our society to…I don't know. Change their mind when it comes to marriage. Especially if you got along so well, otherwise." She had even acted in a movie where that was the whole premise: changing the man's mind about marriage. Their characters ended up together, ending with a wedding. It wasn't one of her favorite projects.
She shrugged again. "There was a time in my life that I would have probably tried that, but I'm just not about that anymore. I don't care to try to change someone's mind about something like that. While I believe you can grow and change together, I don't want to gamble on something so important to me."
Diantha nodded, satisfied with her answer.
"Also, I feel like that sets up a weird dynamic in the relationship right off the bat. Like, yeah, let's get into this and all the while I'm going to try to change something you firmly believe in."
Watchog sat up, leaning over the console to seek out attention from Diantha as well.
She reached over to scratch his chin, earning a happy chitter. "That's exactly how I felt when I acted in a movie with that premise! It's one thing if, say, maybe I have a weird distain towards ballroom dancing, and a partner wants to help me get over that: fine. Wanting to change my stance on something that is legally binding?"
Cynthia laughed lightly, agreeing with her, but stuck on the little detail. "Do you have a weird thing against ballroom dancing? Because that was a pretty specific example."
She looked away. "It's stupid."
Watchog crawled over the console, getting completely into her lap, sniffing her over enough to drag a laugh out of her.
She ruffled the pokémon's face, looking over to Cynthia again. She was leaned on the console, chin resting in her hand.
"Let me guess: you're a really bad dancer?"
Diantha rolled her eyes.
"Always stepping on people's feet?" Now she was just enjoying teasing her. "Or, do you end up leading instead? Did you try to lead a man and he got mad?" More specifically, did she lead Mel once and he got mad?
That got a genuine laugh from Diantha, Watchog mirroring the action. "I'll have you know I am actually quite good at it!"
"Sure, sure," she joked, leaning back in her seat.
Before she could say anything that might possibly defend herself –though other than offering to dance with her at some point what was there to say?– a very grumpy Alexander came into the room.
"Hey, ladies, tell me something," he said, approaching the side of the car. He lifted his chin up, pointing to the faint makeup line. "This ain't the right shade, is it?"
Diantha looked him over, quick to make a disapproving grumble. "No, it's definitely a shade off." Though, it wasn't really that noticeable. Not enough to cause a fuss over, anyways.
He turned away from the car, throwing his hands up dramatically. "See! I told you I wasn't crazy!" He stormed off back to his dressing room.
Diantha giggled to herself, looking over to Cynthia, who sat silently, blinking a few times as if to process what had just happened.
"And I thought you were the diva."
To that, Diantha laughed, throwing her head back into the headrest. "Welcome to acting, darling. We're all a bunch of drama queens."
– – – –
PAN IN
INT. ELIZABETH'S GARAGE – DAYTIME
The car comes to a stop, Elizabeth triumphantly pulling the keys from the ignition. Everyone is in good spirits, and Charles is the first to get out of the car. He heads off to make sure they weren't followed, Braixen following him.
CHARLES
Gonna make sure we weren't tailed. Though, with driving like that, I highly doubt it.
Scarlet and Elizabeth get out of the car. Elizabeth stands at the font of the car, watching intently as Scarlet saunters up to her, Kirlia at her side, and money in hand.
SCARLET
Well, Elizabeth, color me impressed.
She slaps Elizabeth's third into her hand.
SCARLET
(cont'd)
I'd be more than happy to keep you around.
Watchog watches as Elizabeth fingers through her money, only appearing to count it, but she's not really giving it too much thought. Being alone with Scarlet is almost an equal reward.
ELIZABETH
Glad to hear it.
SCARLET
So, are you going to tell me the secret behind your car? I still don't believe a car like this should be able to move like it did.
Elizabeth laughs, walking Scarlet around the car. Klinklang joins them from the back of the shop
ELIZABETH
Klinklang mostly helps me with the adjustments. The main thing was just figuring out what the most common car in the area was. Once I figured that out, I refitted one with a much better engine, and a few other things.
It also helps to have a few important people in my back pocket.
SCARLET
I might have to ask you more about that sometime.
ELIZABETH
I might be willing to tell you.
Scarlet is about to respond, but Charles comes running back in with Braixen, still as excited as before. He grabs Scarlet, throwing her over his shoulder, and spinning her around, all while laughing. Kirlia teleports out of the way.
Scarlet, however, is not amused. She lightly smacks the side of his head.
SCARLET
Can't you see I'm talking here?
He ignores her protest, continuing his laughing.
CHARLES
C'mon, doll! We're celebrating tonight!
Scarlet rolls her eyes, but suddenly jumps with a small yelp.
NOTE:
While it's only her leg being grabbed,
from the camera angle it will imply he's groping her
SCARLET
We'll be–
(Struggling to get out of his grasp)
–In touch, Elizabeth.
Elizabeth only nods, watching as Charles then carries Scarlet away, their pokémon walking beside them. Once gone, she gives her attention to her pokémon.
ELIZABETH
I still think he's only pretending to be scared of her.
Watchog crosses his arms, Klinklang spins around, counterclockwise.
Elizabeth hums to herself, resuming the counting of her money. To her surprise, it's an actual even third. Holding her money up, she looks between her pokémon.
ELIZABETH
While I decide what to do about that, how about we celebrate tonight as well?
Watchog grins, Klinklang spinning around clockwise.
– – – –
The closer they got to their lunch break, the slower things started to go. Many of the retakes would be ruined by Alexander failing to get Diantha over his shoulder just right. A few times he even managed to trip over nothing on his run back into the room –much to Cynthia's inner amusement.
"Cut!" Tom called.
Though, in Cynthia's personal opinion, the pacing of things wasn't aided by Lita not being on set for the day. Tom briefly explained at the beginning of the day that she was sick so it would just be him directing, and she thought that had a lot to do with how slow things were moving.
Braixen sighed heavily, voicing the exhaustion Cynthia felt.
Diantha grunted as she was put down from Alexander's shoulder, brushing herself off as she quickly walked away. Kirlia kept at her side.
While Cynthia was sure she was putting off exhaustion, the energy Diantha was putting off read more like tension.
Cynthia was quick catch up to her. "Everything okay?" she asked, keeping her voice down.
Diantha shrugged, noticeably refusing to make eye contact. "I'm just exhausted is all, Cynthia. I'm fine."
Tom kept his eyes on his screen for a few seconds before looking out at his actors. "Let's go to lunch. Take a good hour break, and we'll come back to this."
Frustrated, but not wanting to show it, Diantha only nodded before heading towards her dressing room. She had planned on having a proper lunch, and maybe inviting Cynthia along, but that was promptly thrown out the window. All she wanted was to be alone in her dressing room.
Closing the door behind her, she turned around, noticing both Kirlia looking up at her. She hadn't even realized they had followed her.
King tilted his head up at her, the mental weight coming across as him asking if she was alright.
Diantha knew there was no use in lying to the pokémon. Being psychic pokémon, they both were well aware of what was upsetting her. She, however, still didn't want to draw any attention to it. She just wanted the day to be over.
"I'm fine, darlings," she said, kneeling down to their level. "Go back to Camila, and I'll see you soon enough."
Both pokémon nodded, King being the first to teleport away. Kivalina stayed behind a second longer, looking up at Diantha with concern, before eventually taking her leave as well.
Sitting down on the couch with a huff, she kicked off her shoes, bringing her feet up to rest her head on her knees. Looking up at the clock on the wall, a sigh escaped her.
She just wanted the day to be over with…
Walking around the car, Klinklang and Watchog close by her, Cynthia kept an eye on Diantha. "Klinklang mostly helps me with the adjustments. The main thing was just figuring out what the most common car in the area was. Once I figured that out, I refitted one with a much better engine, and a few other things." She shrugged, looking to Klinklang then back to Diantha. She lowered her voice just a bit. "It also helps to have a few important people in my back pocket."
Diantha's eyebrows rose quickly, moving a step closer. "I might have to ask you more about that sometime."
Cynthia mirrored her step, looking at her with a small grin that was quickly becoming a personal weakness for Diantha. "I might be willing to tell you."
She heard Alexander's footsteps as he began to run back into set. She tried to not visibly brace for him picking her up as she was going to respond to Cynthia. By now, she was getting sick of being spun around, among other things. His laughter was also grating on her nerves.
She just wanted the day to be over. She wanted to be done with the scene, and wanted nothing more than no risk of another retake.
In her frustration, she might have smacked the side of his head a little too hard. "Can't you see I'm talking here?" she demanded.
He continued laughing, facing them so she would still be facing Cynthia. "C'mon, doll! We're celebrating tonight!"
Braixen made similar barks of excitement, Kirlia teleporting away to her designated spot.
Again, she tried to not visibly brace for the feeling of his hand up her skirt on her thigh.
Unfortunately, his hand ended up where it wasn't supposed to be: directly on her ass. Though, by this point, it was no longer an accident. Once was an accident. Five times in one day was intentional.
She tried to push through it like before, using everything in her power to not react. She didn't want to cause a scene. Nobody else seemed to be aware of what he was doing, so she didn't believe anybody would be on her side if she did react.
"We'll be–" she tried to get out of his grasp, desperate to find a way to get his hand off her.
When he adjusted his grip on her to keep her in place, she broke, as a surge of white-hot fury swept over her at the feeling of his fingers hooking themselves under her underwear.
Cynthia noticed the change immediately.
Bringing her hand up, she struck his face as hard as she could from the awkward angle. "Put me down this second!"
She fell to the ground with a hard thud as he dropped her. The pain of falling onto solid concrete was ignored, as was Cynthia and Watchog who had rushed to help her stand. They were the least of her concern.
Alexander held his face with his hand, flinching back the second Diantha was in his face. "Alright! Five times is more than intentional!" Her whole body was shaking from the anger and humiliation.
Cameras were still rolling, that much she was aware of, and everything had come to a grinding halt to focus on them. It only added to the humiliation.
"Diantha!" He tried to get a word in, but she wasn't about to let him.
"Don't you even!" she hissed. "You have groped my ass five times now, and I believed the first two times might have been an accident, but five times is intentional!"
Watchog and Braixen placed themselves between the two, Cynthia, Klinklang and Kirlia standing at her sides to offer some sense of backup, but their presence didn't seem to affect Diantha any.
"Hey! Hey! Break it up!" Tom yelling, rushing to the two costars.
Diantha wasn't having any of it. Nobody was going to put a hand on her without her permission and not suffer any consequences. She was done being passive.
Ignoring Tom, she pressed forward, nearly stepping on Watchog's foot. "If you even think–"
Tom grabbed her harshly by the arm, dragging her away from Alexander. "I said break it up!"
He practically threw her off to two crewmen, barking at them to send her to her dressing room. They tried their best to coach her back to her dressing room to calm down, but she wasn't about to give them the satisfaction of an easy escort.
Still having eye contact with Alexander, she made sure to leave him with a visual that would make him think twice about ever touching her again. "If it happens again even once I will have my Tyrantrum bite your hand off!"
One of the crewmen then began to forcefully drag her off, leaving Cynthia equally furious about how much she was witnessing her getting manhandled. Especially considering she wasn't the one who had been sexually assaulting someone.
Cynthia looked to Watchog and Braixen, who were both looking around all in a panic, then up to Alexander. All the bad feelings he had been giving her suddenly made sense.
He wiped his brow, finally bringing his hands down from a defensive position. "Crazy bitch," he muttered, beginning to walk off set. "It was an accident!" he yelled, knocking over a table of something in his wake.
Swept up in the whirlwind of it all, she had to ground herself fast. She wasn't about to question Diantha's judgement. She knew Diantha knew what she felt, and she wasn't going to let there be any risk of sweeping it under the rug.
Around her, the other cast and crew were abuzz. She looked down to the pokémon that still stood with her, giving Watchog a quick pat on the head. "How about you all go back to Camila for now. I'll take care of this."
They gave her a worried whimper, Klinklang giving more of a soft grind of his gears, but followed her direction, heading off together.
She looked around set, quickly laying eyes on Tom.
Of all the days for Lita to be sick…
Before she could even get a word out as she approached him, he dismissed her with a flippant wave of his hand. "Go on break, Cynthia. I gotta figure out who to send to talk down the drama queen." He began to walk away from her. "Arceus, this is why I hate working with her," he said, thinking he was out of earshot.
He wasn't, and Cynthia was not about to stand for it. "Excuse me?" she said, taking off after him. "I don't think she's being dramatic in the least! If he's been groping her, you need to do something about it, because that is textbook sexual harassment!" More like sexual assault, but she assumed he was a nasty man who would just try to punish her in some way for saying something that sounded stronger.
He turned on her, rolling his eyes. "If I were you, Cynthia, I would worry about bigger things. Is she gonna pull this shit with you when you two have to get handsy for the bar scene? During the part where it's pretty clear your characters are about to have sex?"
The mere question made her angry enough to feel her blood pressure rise. "If I did something to her that she was uncomfortable with, I would want her to tell me! I wouldn't get upset over it –and besides! We both consented to what happens in the bar scene, and the fade to black." Though, it was likely he was a man who didn't even care about consent.
The thought made her skin crawl.
She continued. "During the script meetings, it was stated that he would grab her thigh, but from the camera angle, it would look like she was getting groped. She didn't consent to literally getting groped."
There was a warmth from her pocket. Likely Garchomp's poké ball.
She also had a dragon that would bite off a hand if needed.
Tom looked up at her, his face getting red from anger, but she wasn't about to let him intimidate her.
She was a woman who lived every day with a mental illness that tried to convince her life wasn't worth living, and years ago she had looked into the eyes of Giratina as it threatened to take her and her friend's life in the Distortion World.
This sad, pathetic excuse of a man didn't scare her.
"Just go on break, Cynthia," he said, dismissing her once again.
She stood in her spot, planted by anger and frustration. She knew in her heart that Alexander would get nothing more than a slap on the wrist –if even that. It's what happened to any man that dared lay a hand on her when she called them out.
Tom yelled for one of the PA's to go check on Diantha.
The PA who happened to be nearest was the one who Cynthia had referred to as Five CDs. She had finally learned her name the second week of filming.
"Kara!" she called out, putting herself right in her line of sight. It was enough to bring the blonde to a stop. "Let me talk to her instead."
She didn't protest it at all. "If she needs anything, just let me know. I've…been through this, too so…yeah," she said, pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose.
It was a simple admission that broke Cynthia's heart.
Heading to Diantha's dressing room, the door was closed, and nobody was around. She knocked softly. "Diantha, it's Cynthia."
There was a muffled sound on the other side, followed quickly by Diantha opening the door. She had changed out of Scarlet's outfit, and was down to a black camisole and leggings.
The look of defeat on her face as she stepped aside to let her in, sent a sharp jolt of sympathy pain through Cynthia's chest.
Gardevoir was out of her poké ball, standing with the two Kirlia, and they all looked about as furious as Cynthia felt. There was a pressure in the room, coming from their general direction.
Diantha approached her, seeming unfazed by the pressure. "Can you go back in for a while, darling? I'm fine being alone with Cynthia," she asked, looking to her pokémon. "And you two can go back to Camila. I'll be fine."
The two Kirlia left without protest, but Gardevoir was a different story. She didn't look at Diantha, instead keeping her red eyes on Cynthia. She was sizing her up.
Whatever she decided, she eventually returned to her poké ball, leaving them alone, and taking the pressure away with her.
Diantha immediately went to the couch, pulling her braid over her shoulder and beginning to undo it. "I'm…I'm sorry you had to see all of that," she said, her voice quiet.
All of Cynthia's anger was placed aside, now outweighed by the unwavering desire to comfort her. "Diantha," she said, taking a seat on the cushion next to her. "Diantha, you have nothing to apologize for. I'm so sorry you had to deal with that." She wanted to voice an apology for failing to notice what Alexander had been doing, but she also didn't want to risk coming off as this being about her.
Braid half undone, Diantha leaned back, sinking into the couch. Her voice cracked here and there as she spoke. "Alexander was so pleasant to work with the last time. I had no problems with him, and now…" her face scrunched up as she shook her head. "I just feel disgusting."
Cynthia fought the desire to move closer, unsure if close contact would be an okay thing right now. Sometimes a familiar person was all she wanted after gross experiences, but then sometimes all she wanted was to be left alone. She would wait for Diantha to let her know what she was okay with. "I'm so sorry, and I'm so sorry our director is obviously a huge piece of shit."
She forced a laugh, wiping the corner of her eyes with a finger, smudging the mascara she wore. "I was well aware of that coming into this…it's just…" she crossed her arms, looking at Cynthia in such a way that sent another wave of sympathy pain through her chest. "It's just that, as flimsy of a script this is…as derivative as it all truly is, I liked this crew, Cynthia!"
Palm up, Cynthia offered her hand to Diantha. She quickly grabbed it with hers, giving it a soft squeeze.
"Sure, Tom is annoying on his best days, but it was one of the few times I enjoyed every one of my costars! And don't get me started on how much I adore Lita!" She was holding back tears, and it was evident in her voice. "It's one of few projects that I just…always looked back on fondly. I didn't say yes to this because of the money or the attention. I said yes because I had enjoyed it so much the first time…and now…"
She squeezed Cynthia's hand harder.
Cynthia was at a loss of what to do for her. Sure, she wanted to go find Alexander and let him have a piece of her –and maybe even Garchomp's– mind. But that wouldn't do anything for Diantha in the long run, other than likely make things worse.
"What can I do for you right now?" she asked.
"I–" she began to answer, but her voice abandoned her. Instead, she merely moved closer to Cynthia, resting her head on her shoulder. "Just…your company is enough, for now."
So, together, they sat in silence. Diantha laced their fingers together, allowing herself to just feel comfort in Cynthia's presence.
After a while, Cynthia rested her head atop hers. "Just so you know, you're not alone. Can't tell you how many times I've had guys grab me."
"The sad thing is, no matter how many times it happens, I have yet to just…get used to it."
"I'd be more worried if you were used to it. I don't want to think about how many times it would have to happen before I just stopped reacting," Cynthia said.
Diantha hummed in response. "This is true."
"It never feels good to be violated like that. I don't care if it's a quick grab or anything. It all sucks, and it's not fair, and again, I'm so sorry you put up with that as many times as you did." She knew she personally wouldn't have tolerated it past the first time, but she wouldn't tell Diantha how to react.
She nodded. "Just know, I was completely serious about having Tyrantrum bite his hand off if he tries it again."
"And I want you to know that I have your back completely." She carefully reached into her pocket, pulling out Garchomp's poké ball. "She has your back, too. She's been hot in my pocket since I yelled at Tom, meaning she's mad for you as well. You have two dragons who would bite a hand for you."
Diantha passed an amused breath, carefully taking the minimized poké ball from her hand. It was hot to the touch, but not quite burning.
To have their unquestioning support meant the world to her.
Sitting together a while longer, Cynthia did her best to keep idle conversation going. Eventually, there was a knock at the door, distracting the two of them.
Reluctantly, Diantha removed herself from Cynthia. The room immediately felt colder.
Letting the PA in, she informed them that the rest of the day had been cancelled, and that Tom wanted everyone to go home for the night. She said Tom would let everyone know who needed to be on set the next day while he figured out what to do.
Quietly, she added that he wanted to see her before she left, but Cynthia heard every word of it.
Cynthia rose to her feet once the PA left, eyeing Diantha with concern. "I don't want Tom trying to sweep this under the rug."
Her shoulders rose in a sad shrug. "Neither do I, but…it wouldn't be the first time I've had a director do that." And unfortunately, it probably wouldn't be the last time it happened, either.
"I feel like we need to make sure Lita knows what happened. Tom might be willing to ignore it, but I'm confident she wouldn't." What little respect she did have for the man was officially gone. He would have to do a great deal to even think about earning it back.
Diantha shook her head. "She wouldn't, but…I just want to go get this conversation over with, so I'm going to change, do that, and then head home. I…I don't have the emotional energy, Cynthia."
She nodded, understanding the feeling all too well.
On her way out, she stopped, placing a gentle hand on Diantha's shoulder. "If you need me for anything, please let me know."
She forced a smile. "Thank you, darling."
Quickly changing into something more comfortable, as well as covered her up more, she headed out, figuring Tom would be in his office. He was there, Alexander standing next to him.
She kept her distance, the sight of both men upsetting her stomach.
"Look," Tom began after a long, painful silence. "I don't care what you do after all of this, but these are the facts: I have no visual confirmation of what did or didn't happen. Maybe he was groping you Diantha, maybe not."
The mere insinuation that she was lying made her want to lash out. "I'm well aware of what a hand on my ass feels like, Tom!" she hissed.
His expression didn't change. "Diantha," he warned.
She crossed her arms, trying to contain how furious she was. If he was going to stand there and blame her, she was going to walk out and never look back.
"Look, it's just, if this gets out, this whole project is done for. I can't recast either of you. You're both too well known, and the whole episode centers around a continuation of Scarlet's story. The only expendable person here, really, is Cynthia, and even then, we're already three weeks deep in this. No matter what, this will wreck both of you if you don't just agree to put it aside until filming is done with."
Diantha felt herself wanting to make the motion of slapping him, too.
Forcing the feeling down, she thought on what Tom was really telling her. The incident wouldn't wreck her career. He would. He would bad mouth her to every director between Unova and Kalos, and do whatever he could to make sure she never received work ever again.
She turned away from both men, thoroughly done with the day. "Fine. I will put it aside until filming is done." She then shot Alexander a look. "But if you even think of touching me off set, or in any other way than the script calls for, not even the loss of my career will keep me from being silent."
With that, she left, not emotionally able to handle anything else from them. The muscles around her face and neck were sore from refraining from crying.
In the front lobby, Cynthia had waited for her. She stood at the front desk, giving attention to Oscar the Audino, who was cooing away as her hand scratched his chin.
It didn't take away the pain and frustration of the day, but the sight at least momentarily made Diantha's heart happy.
"Are you okay?" Cynthia asked, stepping away from the front desk. She had to force herself to ignore Oscar's protest coos.
Diantha shook her head in a firm no. "No. I'm…I feel as though I'm being forced to stay silent, because, otherwise, this whole project is going to be scrapped. I'll just deal with it afterwards. I don't want to be responsible for everyone here losing their paychecks for this project."
"Diantha, you don't have to do that to yourself. I–"
She was quick to cut her off. "I really don't want to think any more about this, Cynthia. I just want to go home, call my boyfriend, and just…be done with it all."
Her shoulders slumped. "Diantha–"
"Goodnight, Cynthia."
She forced herself to remain where she was, not doing anything else to stop her. Diantha was hurt and upset, and she wasn't going to try to get her to change her mind.
Footsteps from the main set caught her attention.
Looking down the hall, she locked eyes with Alexander.
Before she could even ask herself what she was going to do or say, she began to walk towards him, guided only by anger for her friend.
He sighed, rubbing the side of his face where he had been smacked. "Can you believe– whoa!"
She stood in front of him, using every bit of her height advantage to intimidate him. Maybe a part of her was channeling Elizabeth in that moment. Maybe she had something in common with her character after all.
His back hit the wall.
"Don't even think for a second I'm on your side." She kept her voice low. She was pretty sure the security cameras didn't pick up audio, but it was best to play it somewhat safe. "I've had a bad feeling about you from day one, so let me make one thing clear to you Alexander Hayes: If you even think of trying that shit with me? There will be hell to pay. Unlike Diantha, I literally don't give a shit if I ever get an acting job ever again. They could send me home tomorrow and I'll think nothing of it, so don't try me."
She stepped back, but he kept himself firm against the wall, saying nothing.
Figuring she got her point across, she began to walk off. She didn't need to risk ruffling anyone else's feathers. She made her point.
Hollywood was turning out to be an absolutely ugly beast.
A few hours later back in Undella, while out on the beach training with Garchomp and Milotic to take her mind off things, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket.
"Let's take a minute," she said to her pokémon.
They both nodded, Milotic quick to slither off into the nearest tidepool for a soak.
Pulling out her phone, she saw it was a text, saying she was needed for filming tomorrow, and what scene's they would be working on. Looking up the page number, she then moved to her email application to look for the copy of the script Diantha had sent her.
Scrolling down once it had downloaded, she began to read over her scene for the next day.
—
Charles looks over Elizabeth, trying hard to not appear nervous. There's still a gun at his side.
Elizabeth steps forward, backing him against the wall, nonchalant as ever.
ELIZABETH
I know you like to think of me as nothing more than the driver, but I think you need to remember exactly why you sought me out.
A shot of her hand reveals a knife
ELIZABETH
(cont'd)
I'm also good at keeping people quiet.
CHARLES
I'm not scared of you.
ELIZABETH
Maybe you should be.
CHARLES
You brought a knife to a gun fight, Park.
ELIZABETH
And yet I could shove this up through your ribs faster than you could reach for your gun.
(she leans in, pressing the knife to him)
I see one more bruise on her, one more instance of you not treating her right, or just something I don't like in general, well…I'm not about to have the Kiss of Death waste her good lipstick on someone so pathetic.
She steps back, beginning to walk away. Before he can even move to reach, with a snap of her fingers, Watchog uses HYPNOSIS, putting him to sleep.
—
A grin has worked its way on Cynthia's lips as she looked over the scene.
Quickly, she looked back over the text to make sure she hadn't read the wrong section, only to get her hopes up for nothing.
The second time reading, she noticed the end was signed with "–Lita P."
Cynthia briefly wondered if Lita had been filled in with what had happened, but regardless, she was going to thoroughly enjoy every second of filming. A first. It didn't matter that she had to work on a Saturday. Nothing could top this.
Turning back to her pokémon, she looked over the ocean, taking in the soft sounds of the waves. "Lita Paterson, you just made me the happiest woman in Unova."
She figured she probably shouldn't have felt so excited to get to threaten her costar with a fake knife, but she would take her kicks where she could get them.
Diantha looked to her phone for the time. It would be just past six in the morning for Mel. He had definitely called her at earlier times, and besides, it was a bit of an emotional emergency. She had waited long enough.
Hitting call and bringing her phone to her ear, she prayed he would pick up.
While waiting, she moved about her apartment, rearranging a few of the shelf decorations, and making a mental note to dust sometime soon.
He finally answered, some rustling on his end making it sound as though he was moving around. "Babe, you remember we have a twelve-hour time difference right now, right? Kanto?"
"It's a bit of an emergency, Mel," she said, coming to a stop by one of the windows.
"Everything alright?"
Would it have killed him to sound a little more worried?
"My costar has been groping me all damn day and I'm just– I'm not in a good place." She could feel the sting of tears returning. She wanted the day to be over, and now she just wanted her boyfriend to give her a sign that he cared.
He hummed. "I'm sorry, Diantha. That happens."
"That–" wasn't what she wanted to hear. "That happens? Is that–" she didn't even know where to begin.
"I mean, what do you want me to say? It happens. Can't say I know a single woman in film who hasn't been groped or harassed in some way. Comes with the territory, unfortunately."
She grumbled in frustration, moving to pull a chair out from the dining table to sit on. "You are honestly not helping."
"What do you want me to say?" he repeated.
"I don't know! Something that lets me know you care! That you're mad for me!" Something. Anything.
"I care. I'm mad for you. Did your director or producer say anything?"
She shrugged, as if he could actually see the motion. "No, he basically told me to keep quiet about it, otherwise the whole project will be scrapped. I don't want anyone to lose their job, but…I don't know." The need to never have to look at Alexander ever again, and wanting to make sure nobody missed a potentially dire paycheck had her at war with herself.
"I mean, he's not wrong. With how the story is set up–"
"You really don't care, do you?" she asked, forcing herself to sit up. She searched her own faint reflection in the window, praying for some sign that she was wrong. All she saw was a terrified and hurt woman looking back at her.
The day had already left her emotionally drained and hollow, and maybe it was enough to be tired of dealing with him as well.
"Babe, it's…like, six in the morning. I just woke up."
"Don't act like you haven't called me at four in the morning," she grumbled.
"It was an accident."
She stayed silent for a while. She wanted to think rationally about all of it, but she couldn't be bothered to do so. She was worn out, exhausted, humiliated, and felt uncared for. All of that and she was tired of things being an 'accident'.
"Mel…I don't think we need to be together."
She heard frantic shuffling on his end. "Whoa, wait! Not this again! Diantha!"
"No, Mel –I need to think. I need to think long and hard about why I'm still with someone who just…makes me feel like he doesn't care at all."
"Diantha!"
"I need to think, and I don't need to be interrupted by you trying to convince me otherwise." With that she hung up. She didn't need to risk him even getting a word out that would make her even consider listening to anything he had to say.
Putting her phone down on the table, it began to ring again. She didn't need to look to know it was Mel. She silenced it, but it rang again shortly after.
Not wanting to risk caving in like she always did, she put her phone into airplane mode, and left it face down on the table.
She needed time to think about if she wanted to continue forward at all with Mel, but before that, she wanted to cry.
She wanted to hole herself up in her room, crying so hard every part of her body would hurt later from it. Then, after a few hours of that off and on, she wanted to take a shower that would be hot enough to, if only for a few moments, scald away the feeling of Alexander's hands.
It was what she wanted, and it was what she was going to get.
AN: At this point I can probably admit that this fic is also a bit of a vent fic for myself. Cynthia and Diantha's experiences with mental health issues and varying traumas are based on my own. No need to worry about me, though. That's what therapy is for!
I do hope you're enjoying the story so far, and thank you so much for your continued support! It means the absolute world to me!
~Tori
TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR NEXT CHAPTER
-Mild Sexual Content ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )
-Alcohol (More casual drinking, but again, i'd rather be on the safe side)
