Chapter 39 #2
“It also helps that you already have a decent following. So, here’s the plan.
There were multiple submissions we received that we believe could make good shows.
You will make a pilot and so will two other entries.
Whoever has the most success with test audiences will then be the pilot we go with.
This does not guarantee it will be picked up.
We will need about a month to gather resources, scout out a location, and pull together a team for you, so we will be in touch within the month to talk about next steps. ”
“Wow,” I say, not sure I’m understanding her correctly. “I…wait. So this means we’re shooting the pilot? With me?”
“Yes, was that not clear?”
I blink, forcing my brain to catch up. “No, it was. Sorry.”
“It’s fine. I have a few more questions for you. Does anyone help you with these investigations that you would want on your team?”
“Um, no. Not really. My friend. Kit. Kit who is…who just got back in town today after a long time…sorry.” I shake my head in an attempt to unscramble my thoughts.
I try again. “For the submission, my friend Kit helped me research and went to the location with me, but this was the first time I had investigated with someone since high school. He, uh, he probably does not want to be on camera, though.”
“That’s fine. Though, we’re open to hiring him as a part-time researcher, if you think he could be helpful.
Obviously, we’d have to meet him and go through all the normal hiring steps, but we’re open to it.
” She flips through a stack of papers in front of herself.
“Ah. Right. Second question, your username. ParanormalAugust. Where does that come from?”
I smile slightly. “My best friend. August and I started the channel in high school. We left it behind after we graduated, but when she passed away about four years ago, I picked it back up and grew it to where it is now. If the show goes forward, I’d love to honor her in some way.”
“Yes, of course. Dead relatives and friends are great for generating sympathy with the audience. Sorry for your loss, by the way. We watched some of your older videos with her. She seemed great. Talented ghost hunter, as well.”
This woman speaks so quickly, every time she opens her mouth, I feel like she’s simultaneously slapping me in the face and handing me candy.
“Thanks,” I say, not knowing what else to say. “I do want to be clear, I don’t want August mentioned to ‘generate sympathy.’”
Stephanie’s eyes soften. “Of course not. My apologies. I always have to think about these things in terms of audience reception.”
I purse my lips. “I understand.”
“Okay. Last question. Do you understand that if this pilot is successful, you will have to dedicate as much time as possible to the show? It will become your life.”
Exactly what I was hoping for. “I understand.”
“Great. Then we’re in business. Thanks for coming in today, Lacy.” She holds out her hand for me to shake.
I grasp her hand, then stand, understanding the dismissal. “I guess I’ll look forward to hearing from you? Or your office?”
“Yes. Have a nice day.”
She picks up her phone to make a call as soon as I utter the words, “You, too.”
I exit the office, feeling whiplash. My brain is still chasing after my feet as I wave goodbye to reception then practically sprint into the elevators.
When the doors close, my brain catches up.
I’m getting the pilot! I jump up and down in the elevators then throw a wave to the security camera in the corner.
I look up toward the ceiling and whisper to August, “I got the pilot.”
I get back down to the lobby, thank the security guard, then scan the area for Kit. I don’t see him.
Did he leave me?
I crane my neck around, starting to panic. Was he ever here at all? Where did he go? Then I see him push back through the revolving doors. Holding a bouquet of flowers. My entire body relaxes when I see him, and I feel embarrassed for doubting him. For doubting myself.
“Ah, damn,” he says as he approaches me. “You beat me! That was a quick meeting. How did it go?”
I happily accept the flowers, shoving my nose into them. “Good. Yeah. I’m getting the pilot.”
Kit’s entire face lights up. He snatches the flowers back from my hands so he doesn’t crush them when pulling me into an all-consuming hug. “I am so fucking proud of you,” he says into my hair.
My face burns as he pulls away. “Thank you.” I take the flowers back then take him by the hand. I explain exactly how the pilot will work and how I don’t have all the information yet, but that they’re going to reach out with the rest.
I frown as I regard him. His eyes are heavy, and his cheeks are sunken in. “When was the last time you slept? Or ate? Or drank water? You look terrible.”
He shrugs, trying to be nonchalant. “I don’t know.”
I purse my lips. “Why don’t we go catch a train back to my place?”
“You sure? We could go out and celebrate. We’re in New York City!”
“We can celebrate at home.”
He wiggles his eyebrows, and I roll my eyes back at him.
I pull him back to Grand Central. We stop at a restaurant in the terminal to grab water and some food, and I need to insist that I’m the one who is hungry in order for him to let me pay.
We take the first train we can get on. I sit against the window, and he sits beside me, his entire body sinking into the seat.
I fold my leg under myself, making sure my knee has contact with his thigh, leaning back against the window and facing him.
He uncaps the water bottle I bought and forced on him with trembling hands and takes a huge gulp.
I thrust the sandwich into his hands as well and give him a pointed look.
“Eat. Kit, if you’re human, you have to eat, drink, sleep…
” I lean in and take a real sniff. “…shower.”
He grimaces. “I showered yesterday. I just smell like plane.” He takes a bite of the sandwich.
My eyebrows lift. “Why were you on a plane? Where were you? How long have you been back?” I shake my head. “Sorry. You know what, you should sleep on the way back. We can talk about this later.”
He starts eating like he truly hasn’t eaten in a week.
Maybe he hasn’t. He gulps down more water before responding.
“Nah, I’m all right. I can tell you now.
I’ve been back for about two weeks now. Woke up in this body, which is identical to the one I died in.
Scar on my lip still here, papercut fresh enough to sting in salt water, dick still circumcised. ”
I roll my eyes, but can’t help my cheeks from burning red like a teenager.
“I should start two weeks before I came back to life, though. Right after I last saw you, I went back to Hell to put you on the list.”
My mouth drops. “You did? Kit, you didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did.” His throat clears. “Also, I locked Balores in a cell in an infrequently visited section of Hell, so I believe we’re good there.”
Relief spreads over me, my body rid of an anxious weight that had been holding me down since I learned of Balores’s obsession with me.
I squeeze his hand with unending gratitude difficult to express. “So, I’m like safe safe?”
“You’re safe. And I promise to keep you that way.”
I settle in to let Kit tell me the full story of our time apart.