This is the second part of the Moonfall trilogy, so if you've somehow found your way here without reading Operation: Moonfall, I implore you to go and read that first. Everything will make much more sense, and the story and characters will be richer for it.
Chapter 1 – The Boss
Porsha tapped the sketch of her father in trendy clothes with impatience. Jerry couldn't stop eyeballing the sketch in anticipation. The two of them were sitting outside the dressing rooms at one of Porsha's favorite clothing stores, Dripsters. Jimmy promised to spend more time with her, and she was going to hold him to that.
The would-be fashionista liked throwing outfits together for Ash and Meena, but getting the guys to let her dress them was impossible, especially for someone like Gunter who already felt his eye-searing attire was the pinnacle of high fashion. Her next best test subject would have to be her father, and after lots of nagging and guilt-tripping, she broke him down.
Porsha let out an exasperated groan. "Daddy, come on! It doesn't take that long to change!"
"You're not the one that has to wear this!" Jimmy complained.
Stepping out of the booth, Jimmy wore a dark long coat with matching pants made of a holographic texture that shimmered with different colors under the light. The seams of the clothes were covered in neon violet bands. His outfit was topped off with a tie of similarly holographic material.
With eyebrows etched in deep aggravation, the arctic wolf threw his arms out. "What the hell am I wearing?"
Porsha made a swivel motion with her finger and her father obliged by doing a full, if defiantly quick, spin, causing her to squeal in delight.
"I call this... Cyberpunk Chic!" Porsha announced dramatically.
Jimmy grunted. "I feel like one of those freaks that dress up at conventions."
"First of all, cosplaying is awesome. Second, this is forward-thinking fashion. You'll be setting trends and when people see you, they'll want to dress like you."
Jimmy saw the genuine sparkle in his daughter's eye. "You really think so? I don't look like a fool dressed like this?"
"Everything looks great on you, Mr. Crystal," Jerry sang.
The wolf's chest swelled a bit. "Well... can't argue with that."
Porsha jumped up and locked arms with her father. "Let's get out of here and hit the town!"
After paying, they headed for the exit and saw a swarm of paparazzi buzzing outside.
"Someone must've tipped off the loser brigade," Jimmy growled.
"Sorry daddy, but it was me."
"Why would you...?"
"I wanted to show off this outfit." She blinked at him with wide, innocent eyes. "You said you'd do whatever I wanted to do but I knew you'd say no to the paparazzi so... I left that part out."
"You've been around Moon too long," Jimmy grumbled.
The trio braced themselves and ventured out into the night, where they were pelted with a wave of flashing lights and questions. Jerry tried his best to keep the mob at bay, but with his small stature and unthreatening voice, he was lucky not to get trampled in the fervor.
"Mr. Crystal! What are you wearing?" one of the paparazzi called out.
"It's called Cyberpunk Chic and it's a Porsha Crystal Ensemble!" Porsha interjected. She drew a T and M in the air with her finger and added, "Trademarked!"
A scrawny coyote broke off from the crowd and was suddenly in front of Porsha, kicking Jerry aside. "Porsha! Porsha! Is there any truth that Jimmy Crystal killed your mother?"
Porsha was hit so hard by the question she took a step back just as he smirked and snapped the photo of her horrified face. "Why would you say something like that?"
Like a blur, her father appeared between them.
"You get away from her!" Jimmy screamed, throttling the coyote. "Don't you ever say nothin' like that again or I'll make you swallow your own tongue!"
When gurgling sounds started to bubble out of the coyote, Porsha shook away her shock and intervened.
"Daddy, no!" she cried, trying to pry open her father's death grip with little success.
"Puh-leesh!" the coyote choked out. Jimmy finally relented, dropping the photographer to the ground. He cast a wary glance over his shoulder, realizing that yet another Jimmy Crystal Meltdown had been fully recorded in Ultra HD and from multiple angles.
Porsha snapped Jerry up like a football, grabbed her father by the arm, and barreled through the crowd of paparazzi to get to their car.
In the office that once belonged to Jimmy Crystal, Celeste Cassidy was seated at her desk, surrounded by a barren landscape in the midst of transformation. The room was stripped bare, nearly unrecognizable save for the pillars, the balcony, the foundation of the fountain, and the general layout. The only piece of furniture that remained was the desk. The cougar ran her hand across the cool, polished surface in admiration. Celeste had it restored after Jimmy trashed it; she always liked it, and it was proof that the wolf had a modicum of taste—or maybe he didn't, since he did end up breaking the thing. In the next few days, the office would begin turning into something much more gracious than anything Crystal could ever muster.
Celeste glanced at the work that was beginning to pile up in front of her, finding her attention disrupted by a certain arctic wolf once more. Over in the makeshift lounge area, the TV was running, and the media was having a field day with Crystal's latest blunder. He was caught assaulting a photographer outside of Dripsters and there were more angles than anyone could count. Celeste would normally chastise the wolf in this scenario but felt having a violent outburst in front of a mob of paparazzi spoke for itself. It seemed that Crystal 2.0 wasn't all that different from 1.0.
Prime News Today in particular was eating up the story and promised an exclusive interview with Kyle Sanderson, the coyote that "survived" his encounter with Crystal. After running through the footage three more times, Lilian Garrett, the vixen news anchor, sat down to do the interview over satellite. The feed switched over to a hospital room where Kyle, covered in a full body cast, sat in a wheelchair. Next to him was his lawyer, an aged and rigid looking elephant with a pair of glasses that gave her eyes an extra pierce to her glare.
"Mr. Sanderson, how are you doing today?" Lilian began the interview.
"I'm hanging in there," Kyle said, then he winced. "Ow ow ow ow..."
"What's wrong?"
Kyle flashed a sad smile. "Sorry, Lilian. It just... it hurts to breathe."
"My client has a long road to recovery after running into that fiend Crystal and his overdramatic daughter," his lawyer said, every worded coated in outrage. "He's out of work until he recovers from the mental trauma and broken bones."
"Oh no!" Lilian said, slight concern appearing in her voice and face while maintaining a level of professional detachment. "Which bones are broken?"
Kyle's eyes widened and flickered about the room. "Uhhh... all of them?"
"All of your bones are broken?"
"Crystal's a real monster. After he threw me around like a ragdoll, he slammed me against the ground. He broke my body and my spirit!"
"And this is why we're launching a twenty-million-dollar lawsuit against Jimmy Crystal," the lawyer said. "He should pay for what he did to an honest, hard worker like Kyle, figuratively and literally. All my client wanted was to take a few pictures of the Crystals to make a meager living and he got a lifetime of trauma instead."
Celeste muted the TV. She had no sympathy for Jimmy, but even she had enough of this charade. Kyle Sanderson was just another fraud working the system.
In truth, she would hunt down and slap the person that invented the concept of mediocre men if she could. That's who'd always beset her career. Jimmy was always the immediate threat, insulating himself with wealth and power. Failures were never his fault, burdens never his to bear, sacrifices never his to make. And yet, whenever Crystal Entertainment experienced record profits, it was always Jimmy plastered all over TV and magazines, soaking up the praise as a business genius. Everyone bought into the persona. He was too big to fail.
On the flipside, Buster Moon was a whole other crop of mediocrity. He was the worst kind of dreamer—one that believed that just because he had a dream, he was entitled to it no matter what. He had a special brand of failing upward in her eyes, one born through brazen acts of deceit and nepotism. A theater bought by his father before being subsidized and eventually saved by his best friend's rich family. A stage show secured through fraudulence featuring a rock star that shouldn't have given him the time of day. Celeste found herself wondering what talent never took off because Moon stole opportunities he never earned. Success was finite, after all. If there were enough opportunities for everyone, it would be much easier to break into the industry.
At least Crystal was out of her fur now, but he saddled her with Moon as a parting gift. And with Moon's penchant to leave wonton destruction in the wake of his quest for dreams, Celeste vowed she wouldn't be another Jimmy Crystal left broken and vilified. She was now in position to correct certain legacy issues with Out of This World, and her rapidly approaching appointment would be the first move she'd make on that issue.
The intercom crackled to life. "Ms. Cassidy, Porsha Crystal is here."
Right on time.
Celeste pressed the button on her desk, "Bring her in."
A petite serval in a teal pantsuit pushed the door open and led Porsha into the office. The wolf girl's wide-eyed stare took in every bare corner of the office.
"It's like one of those subliminal spaces from all those creepypastas in here," she said. "Everything's gone!"
"Quite the improvement, don't you think?" Celeste said. "Thank you, Sydney."
The serval bowed and left the office. Porsha jumped into the chair across from Celeste's desk and bounced in the seat with a bubbly energy. Realizing how she was coming across, Porsha quickly pulled herself together, straightened her back, and gave off a more professional energy.
"You wanted to see me, Ms. Cassidy?"
"Good morning, Porsha. How has these past three months with Out of This World been?"
"Great! We've made some changes that I suggested. People still love the show and most of the controversy died down."
"Most, but not all," Celeste murmured. Both of their eyes were drawn to the TV, and Porsha cringed watching footage of her dad choking out the coyote.
"That was my fault," Porsha said. "I invited the paparazzi thinking they'd be so impressed with the outfit that they'd behave. I should've known better."
"Never take the blame your father fully deserves," Celeste responded. "Doesn't matter how you dress him up. In the end he'll always be a thug in a suit."
Porsha kept her mouth shut and Celeste continued as if oblivious.
"When I took over Crystal Entertainment, I made a promise to clean this place up. The culture of fear, elitism, and nepotism proliferating the old regime is on its way out. With that violent jackass out of the way I can deal with lingering issues that's been sullying the reputation of this company."
Porsha was used to her father getting trashed by other people, but not to her face. She wondered if Celeste was testing her patience. "What does this have to do with me?" she asked, trying to temper her feelings.
"I want to talk about your future in Out of This World."
Porsha perked up. "Oh! Are you expanding my role? Maybe a new song?"
The cougar's face softened a bit; if Porsha were more perceptive, she'd have realized the pity in her eyes.
"Some of those lingering issues I mentioned pertain to the show. The public spat between your father and Buster Moon made it very clear that you were never originally considered for a role in the show. If I'm going to give this company the luster I promised, I'm going to have to make hard, even unpopular decisions to restore its reputation. Do you understand where I'm going with this?"
Porsha nodded slowly, even though she didn't understand.
Celeste eyed her, then let out an airy sigh. "Future clients must know that they'll get fair and honest treatment here in everything we do. And they won't have that confidence with legacy nepotism on full display in one of our largest productions."
"What does that mean?"
"Porsha, you're fired."
A/N
Aaaand... we're back! Celeste has fired the first shot, one of many that will leave everyone scrambling. With power dynamics shifting and opportunities dwindling, Buster and his crew may end up wishing Jimmy was still in charge!
Will Porsha prove that she's more than the nepotism defining her reputation? Can Buster save her job? Will Jimmy have a mature and measured response? (take a wild guess)
The theme for volume I was "Accountability." As you can see, volume II will be "Change." As the status quo is challenged, much of the cast will have to navigate and embrace change in their own lives, some willfully, some kicking and screaming.