Chapter 8 – The Con

Crystal Entertainment—a cerulean sentinel of steel and polished glass towering at the heart of Redshore City. It was here that Jimmy Crystal strategically placed what he called his second home. His office was a display of ego and opulence, a shrine of art dedicated to himself. But its priceless feature was the breathtaking view of the city, a festival of moving colors during the daytime and a sparkling cavalcade of neon at night that could rival the stars in the sky.

Jimmy settled at his desk, back turned to the morning skyline, his eyes drinking in the steady stream of news on his laptop. In that moment, the reports on his upcoming show stirred him more than that view of Redshore. Many of them focused on the anomaly that was Buster Moon, the unknown theater producer from Catalina or wherever he was from, it didn't matter. Jimmy found the media's curiosity a bit quaint; he'd been known to elevate the stardom of amateurs and nobodies alike just by hovering in their vicinity. As long as the koala delivered, he'd be another Crystal Entertainment success story.

And what a story it'd be! Clay Calloway! How'd such a prize just land in Jimmy's lap? Calloway could play any stage in the world, yet somehow, he was coming to the Crystal Tower Theater. Jimmy was walking on air and couldn't help but whistle a tune. The thought of his enemies and haters yowling in torturous defeat under the shining star of his success like vampires exposed to sunlight left him giddy. He wanted to see that blubbery loser Lester McCray's face on opening night when he got the very public reminder that the Majestic Palace Theater would always be an also-ran. He couldn't wait to see Cassidy sulking in her office when she'd have to admit to herself once again why the place is called Crystal Entertainment.

It was almost too much for Jimmy. He had energy to spare and wanted to indulge in a bit of childishness to burn it off. Before he knew it, he was spinning his chair around. On the fourth rotation, he noticed his assistant having already made half the trek across his spacious office. Going unnoticed was Jerry's superpower, but something was different about the portly cat's body language today. Jerry's limbs were hugging close to his body as if bound by invisible rope and he tightly clutched a phone with both hands. He took methodical, deliberate steps through an unseen minefield until he reached Jimmy's desk, his face a mélange of guilt and fear.

"Mr. Crystal, I am so sorry about this," Jerry said. "You know I hate to deliver bad news..."

"Then don't," Jimmy snapped.

Jerry flinched. "S-sir, please, I only do this when it's important."

Jimmy rose, his nose upturned just enough to cascade what appeared to be contempt down onto Jerry. Then his face softened, but just a bit. It wasn't Jerry's fault. In fact, it rarely ever was. That was something Jimmy had to remind himself of on a daily basis.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"So Legal is on the phone and, uh... it's about Calloway..."

Jimmy almost broke into a laugh. "How much is he asking for? You know I can afford him. There's already a fortune going into this show. Everybody knows I don't pinch pennies around here."

"It's not the money... they said he's..." Jerry started to fuss with the fur on his face. "He's not... uh... oh god..."

Jimmy rolled his eyes and held out his hand. He was obviously not going to get a straight answer out of Jerry. The cat handed over the phone and backed away a healthy distance.

"What's the problem?" he spoke into the phone. Any joy and levity leftover from before evaporated from Jimmy's face as he was dealt a devastating blow on the other line. "He's never heard of him?" Then it fully dawned on him. "He lied!?"

Jerry cringed, leaving one eye open to witness the tragedy unfold.

Jimmy squeezed his eyes shut and asked, "Is Calloway's lawyer coming after us?" He rolled the back of his hand across his forehead upon hearing that the lawyer wasn't taking any action against them.

Jerry gave a tiny, quiet sigh in thanks of small miracles.

"I've got things from here. I'll handle it, okay?" Jimmy ended the call and stared at the phone as if still processing the conversation. When full realization hit, his face twisted, contorted with indignation. Enveloped in wrath.

With the phone still in his grip, Jimmy slammed his hands against the desk. "That little pissant just duped me into the next Fyre Festival!" he howled with enough force to shake the room.

"Sir..." Jerry pointed timidly at the phone. Jimmy tossed it back, and Jerry could see dark, splintered reflections of himself in the cracked screen. "Thank you, sir..." Jerry skulked out of the room, leaving Jimmy to stew in his own feelings.

The fury in Jimmy's gaze could melt steel. He reran the scenario in his head. The audacity of that little shit to enter his sanctum, stand in his auditorium, and lie to his face like that. He'd asked Moon about Calloway's music, his connection to the guy. The twerp lied with such ease and efficiency, and the rest of his crew went along with it like it was nothing. Why hadn't he recognized that shit-eating grin for what it was?

His humiliation ran deep. That Suki had called Moon for exactly what he was—a little guy from nowhere with no connection to Calloway—only compounded that feeling. Jimmy overrode all her objections and just gave the koala the keys to his theater.

Jimmy's heart was racing with such fervor that his chest was in pain.

Without realizing it, his mind had already begun catastrophizing.

He could see Moon and his pathetic amateur theater crew now, rubbing their grubby hands all over his hotel's amenities, desecrating his theater, and laughing at his expense.

"Can you believe that bozo fell for that? In what world would I know Clay Calloway?" Moon would say, and they'd all burst into raucous laughter. The mommy pig in particular would cackle (he thought she looked like a cackler), reveling the most in Jimmy's embarrassment as retaliation for Porsha showing her up at rehearsals. Jimmy wasn't even sure if the New Moon Theater existed. They could easily be a roving band of con artists sniffing out their next mark, leaving disasters in their wake.

Oh, and the disasters would pile up. He was haunted by the thought of opening night, red carpet unfurled and media from all over in attendance, only for the show to consist of drooling amateurs fumbling across his beautiful stage and Calloway nowhere in sight. Even Porsha wouldn't be able to save that. The laughter would be deafening. His reputation would shift from dream maker to laughingstock in a flash.

Jimmy could feel sweat building up alongside the chills racking his body.

This was exactly the opportunity Cassidy waited years for. Between the money Jimmy would burn on Out of This World with nothing to show for it and the hit he and the company would take to their reputations over this debacle, Cassidy would have all she needed to start a coup with the Board and usurp his position. He'd be out on his ass, ejected from the company he built with Mercy twenty years ago. McCray would thrive off Jimmy's downfall.

He would have nothing.

He would be nothing.

Dizziness took Jimmy as the room began to spin. No, spinning wasn't quite right. Whirl. His office was whirling, pieces of it detaching off onto separate axes like a gyroscope. Whirling. He gripped his desk so he wouldn't fly off into the chaos.

Whirling...

"Ah, shit," Jimmy mustered once he realized what was happening. It'd been a long time since the last one. He reached out for his bowl of snacks only to knock it to the floor in the midst of his vertigo.

"Sir, I heard a crash," Jerry said, poking his head through the doors. "Are you all ri—"

"Get out!" Jimmy screamed.

Jerry squeaked and vanished.

Jimmy needed to take control. He snatched up some of the snacks that hadn't fallen off the desk and popped a few into his maw. His taste buds responded to the sharp and savory flavors filling his mouth, helping to ground him in this exact moment, the here and now. There's no time like the present.

His world had not ended.

He hadn't been eliminated from the company. There'd been no coup. Cassidy had no sway over the Board. Lester McCray still sucked ass. Opening night was still weeks away. And most importantly, the world had not witnessed the humiliation Moon was putting him through. There was still time to salvage this situation, and Jimmy knew exactly how.

Being known as a Big Bad Wolf was not a reputation he intentionally gained, but one he did decide to foster over the years as a means of protection. He'd learned as a child that if someone hits you, you strike back ten times harder so they and the guy next to them knew not to ever mess with you again. Moon would soon learn just how big and bad this wolf could be. Such a deep level of disrespect would not go unpunished.

Jimmy knew Moon would keep up his end of the deal...

... because the koala's life might depend on it.

"Jerry!"

Carefully, the cat inched his way through the doorway. Jimmy was standing tall, readjusting his tie as if nothing had happened. An image of power. The sight sent warm ripples through Jerry.

"Yessir!"

The wolf's eyes found Jerry for just a second, flickering with scorn.

"I want Moon."

Cleo's heart sank. "The panic attacks came back?"

"Yeah, I don't wanna talk about that."

Jimmy lounged on the expensive bed in his cell, settling into the comfy mold of the memory foam. He recounted with an almost nonchalance the moment he found out Buster Moon was conning him. He was much more interested in scenes on the UHD TV mounted on his wall, devouring the constant flow of content from the media circus that was currently dissecting the koala.

Cleo was surprised that Jimmy would even admit to her that the panic attacks came back. She initially learned about them years ago completely by circumstance, walking in on him during an episode. He played it off at the time, but as their short but fiery romance grew more passionate, Jimmy confided in her things he would never admit in public.

But she knew when to let things go (sometimes).

The snow leopard glanced at the TV with much less enthusiasm. "You aren't tired of this yet?"

"You kiddin'?" Jimmy said with a chuckle. "It's like Christmas every day. There's always some new take on Moon. They're really letting the twerp have it. They found some of his old theater crew for interviews. Turns out he never paid them."

Another domino toppled as part of the chain reaction.

"Color me surprised," Cleo said with miniscule emotion.

"You gotta pay talent what they're worth," Jimmy said. "That's what I always say. If I knew Moon stiffed his employees, I would've put that out there when Kilborn interviewed me."

There was the smallest hint of a frown on Cleo. "I still think the conspiracy angle was a bit much."

"You think I would go on TV and not let that hack McCray have it? He profited off a show I paid for! He doesn't hire amateurs; Moon would've never ended up on his radar if it wasn't for me."

"Okay, Jimmy. You made your point."

"I ain't the only one that thinks that's a bit sketchy. The commentary on the talk shows is great." A big dumb grin grew on Jimmy's face as he said, "The horse broad with the tea called me 'scary-hot.'"

Cleo moved from her chair over to the bed. She pushed Jimmy's legs aside, forcing him to sit up, then took a seat next to him. Her hand fell atop his, and she was surprised and a bit thankful that he didn't pull away. Just as the two became aware of the warmth in their shared touch, a harsh bang on the cell door startled them.

"Jimmy, you know the rules," warned the black bear guard. "No hanky-panky."

Cleo stifled a laugh. "Did he seriously say 'hanky-panky?' And... you're giving him first name privileges?"

"Josh is all right," Jimmy said with a light shrug. "This place is full of misery. You give some mutual respect, treat a few guys here like they matter, and it'll go a long way. He even lets me use his phone sometimes."

"Jimmy... you're not leaving anyone threatening messages, are you?"

The wolf gave a wry grin. "Cleo, you know me. I deliver my threats directly when I can."

"Jimmy!"

"I'm messin' with ya," he said with a dry chuckle. Cleo soon felt herself regretting sitting so close to Jimmy. His demeanor changed rapidly, growing serious in an instant. His eyes had a habit of piercing his subject like x-ray vision, exposing them, dressing them down, belittling them... that effect was magnified sitting next to him.

"Cleo, why are you helping me?"

"We've been over this. I thought you got a raw deal after getting hurt in the aftermath of Moon's schemes."

"Yeah, you said that, but why are you really helping me?"

Cleo's fur bristled as she had the distinct feeling she was being interrogated. "Are you really asking this? You must trust me on some level since you just told me about the panic attacks returning."

"I know you won't blab about something like that."

"I told you vulnerability is not weakness."

"And I told you I don't wanna talk about this!" Jimmy growled, a hint of his fangs showing. "I know you. You don't just do things. There's always some scheme, ulterior motive, or secret play behind just about everything with you."

"This is rich," Cleo said, pulling away. "You're criticizing me for using my head and thinking before I act? If anything, you should be thinking more like I do! That impulsiveness works when you're judging talent, but you can't just fly off the deep end when you're pissed off. What you did was stupid and cruel!"

"I just told you about what he did to me! I took Moon at his word and gave him and his amateur friends everything they needed to be the next big thing! But all he did was humiliate me in front of the whole city! You don't think that was stupid and cruel?"

"That's on a different level and you know it," Cleo said.

Jimmy threw his arms up. "What the hell would you've done in my position, huh?"

"With your power and resources at my fingertips? Visitation hours would end before I could list all the ways. But if I was in your position in that exact moment? Fire Moon, and then report fraud if I felt it necessary. You had proof in the moment that he was lying. He even admitted it to you. Anything beyond that is overkill."

Jimmy turned his head and snarled something under his breath.

"I know what you told Kilborn about protecting the company and your reputation," Cleo said. "Sometimes you just have to take the hit. Doing anything else can make things worse."

Cleo could feel the defiance radiating from Jimmy. He turned back toward her, but he wouldn't look at her, just past her. That stubbornness told her that deep down he knew he screwed up, knew he took things too far. Introspection frightened him because he knew he wouldn't quite like what he saw inside. This was the last vestige of self-righteousness from a man buried alive under the ruins of his life.

She stood up and hovered over him, determined to make one last push. "Alright, Jimmy," she said. "Let's do a thought experiment. Let's say you dropped Moon and he actually died. Hundreds of theatergoers witness a murder. Then what?"

Hunched forward, his hands folded together, ears pulled back, and his sight focused squarely at Cleo's feet, Jimmy resembled a child being scolded.

"The Crystal Tower Theater in Redshore City will forever be known not as a place where dreams become reality but that morbid stage where a koala was murdered. This campaign to rehabilitate your image doesn't work because at the end of the day you're a murderer. There's no reason to expose Moon because no matter how sketchy he is, no one will agree that he deserved to die for it. People have no sympathy, understanding, or mercy for murderers. The fact that Moon isn't dead is what's saving your ass right now."

Like a chill in the air, the atmosphere in the room shifted and grew cold. Jimmy's posture stiffened, his arctic eyes fixating on Cleo. Their history together gave Cleo a lot of leeway when it came to handling him, but even that had its limits. The fact that he hadn't said anything told her that she hadn't quite crossed the line, but she was definitely straddling it. Nagging had its limits.

Kneeling next to the bed, Cleo took both of Jimmy's hands and clasped them between hers.

"You don't have to lean into this Big Bad Wolf stereotype; it's a double-edged sword, and I think you know this by now. You really need to do some soul-searching." The snow leopard lifted one of her hands and placed it square in the center of Jimmy's chest. "I know that may sound a little ironic considering some people don't think you even have one, but I know you do because I've touched it. And for the short time we were together... it touched me. That's why I'm really helping you."

"You done?" Jimmy said, though all the edge left his voice. Gingerly, he removed Cleo's hand from his chest. "You keep talking about how I'm stupid and don't think things through. Well, I thought this through, and I feel like now is the right time to play the card."

"Is that so?"

"Rick's on standby," the wolf said, looking pleased with himself. "Everything should be going into motion soon."

"For your sake, I hope everything works out." Cleo got up and dusted off her pants. "I've chewed you out enough for one day. I should get home."

Jimmy reached for Cleo and grasped her by the fingertips. "So soon?"

"Was there something else you wanted?"

Brows furrowed as if thrown for a loop, Jimmy held on in an awkward silence.

"How's the runt?" he finally asked.

Cleo felt numb. "You really care about my personal life?"

"Don't be like that. We were good while we lasted. Besides, I liked your kid. Porsha did too."

After a moment, Cleo relented. "Taiga's fine."

"What about you?"

"I'm going, Jimmy." She gave him a small, sad smile and said, "You should focus on yourself. You need it."

Cleo knocked and Josh let her out. Jimmy got up and leaned against the door.

"Hey Josh, I'm gonna need a favor from you later," he said.

The bear gave a silent nod before he escorted Cleo away, leaving Jimmy to flash a wicked smile at no one in particular.

A/N

Oh, you thought Buster was going to be the one with the panic attacks? Jimmy's snacking being a form of stress eating has been floated around before, but I took it a step further. One way to deal with panic attacks is mindfulness – using the senses to "ground" yourself in the present moment. It's rare, but some people use their sense of taste to do it.

That flashback scene is pivotal to understanding why Jimmy hates Buster so much. As the audience, we know Buster well enough to understand that his unethical behavior isn't fueled by malice. Jimmy doesn't, and very much believes Buster was intentionally harming him. This will be important going into the future.

Cleo is one of the few people that can scold Jimmy and get away with it. But there is a limit to how much you can nag him before he throttles you.