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"I feel like Shelley Duvall on the set of The Shining!" Johnny whines.
"I doubt he's Kubrick levels of bad," Cassie says. She's sitting cross-legged on her bed, talking with Johnny on speakerphone while her hands are occupied with her iPad.
"He made me do over thirty retakes on one scene because he didn't like the way I grunted when I punched! I told him we could dub it over in post, but he just scoffed at me like I'm an idiot!"
Johnny's talking about Shinnok, the director of the newest Ninja Mime sequel. Cassie's looking at Shinnok's Wikipedia page, and according to his filmography he's directed some stellar hits, most notably Deadly Alliance, a mafia period-picture that raked in the trophies during awards season three years ago.
"Well, he just went through a divorce," Cassie says, summarizing the latter half of Shinnok's Wikipedia article. "So I bet he's butthurt about having to direct crap films and taking it out on you."
Johnny makes a noncommittal noise. He's got to empathize with that, having gone through a divorce himself a few years prior, though Cassie's mother hadn't been the type to fight over finances.
"It's not my fault the guy didn't sign a pre-nup!" Johnny complains. "Why can't he pull the stick out of his ass so we can finish this damn thing?"
Cassie wonders if this kind of whining is one of the reasons why her mom left. "I don't know, Dad," she sighs. "Do you want me to have a talk with him?"
"No way! I couldn't ask you to do that."
"I know."
Johnny wouldn't ask, but this phone call has served its purpose as a cry for help, and Cassie is nothing if not a dutiful daughter. The following day, she texts Johnny: Where are you filming today? I wanna drop in. :)
Johnny responds with surprised emojis before sending her the details. Cassie loves the Warner Brothers studios; Johnny used to bring her here all the time when she was little. She'd wanted to meet the Animaniacs, and she'd stared up at the water tower in awe, as if waiting for Yakko, Wakko, and Dot to come bouncing out of it.
The guard recognizes Cassie and lets her through. She slips inside studio 11 and heads for the craft services table like she belongs here. Shinnok sits in the director's chair, crowing about the lighting. Johnny's standing in front of a green screen amongst the other actors and extras; he's wearing a blue and purple mime costume, looking absolutely ridiculous. If he notices that Cassie is here, he doesn't show it. Cassie nibbles on a carrot stick, channeling her inner Bugs Bunny.
"C'mon, dude," Johnny's saying to Shinnok. "We'll just fix it in post. Fixing bad lighting is why we have, like, twenty CG artists on the payroll."
Shinnok says, "You think Kubrick or Fincher just say 'oh, we'll fix it in post'?"
"Yeah, actually—"
"We've had this conversation before. I aim for perfection, Cage, and nothing less. If you cannot work under my conditions, you know where the door is."
Johnny scoffs. "You think you could fire me off Ninja Mime? I'm the star!"
"Perhaps I could convince the studio to make Son of Ninja Mime and cast a less demanding actor. And, of course, a less expensive one."
"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," Johnny grumbles, but he does not walk off the set, instead repositioning himself for another take.
They break half an hour later. Johnny finds Cassie, and he looks even more ridiculous up close in his mime makeup. "Now do you see what I mean?" He jerks a thumb toward Shinnok, who's still in the director's chair chatting with (or probably scolding) one of the gaffers.
"Most big-shot directors are anal-retentive control freaks," Cassie says, chewing a piece of bubble gum. "Haven't you learned that by now?" But she supposes he hasn't. Johnny's career has been a lifetime of being catered to; since his debut in the first Ninja Mime flick, he's been working with first-time and independent directors looking to cash in on Cage's rising star. Pretty much all of Johnny's movies are terribly corny martial arts spectacles; no esteemed directors are lining up to direct crap like Ninja Mime Goes West or 24 Karate Gold.
She shakes her head before he can answer. "Never mind. Can you just deal with it? You're probably making more money for this movie than most people earn in a year." She wonders if her father has lived in the limelight for so long that he's forgotten how the average person lives. If a few retakes are the worst inconvenience Johnny has to suffer, he's living in an ivory tower compared to Cassie's friends in service jobs. Oh, the horror stories she's heard…
Johnny scratches the back of his neck. "Just like your mother," he says with fondness, though Cassie wishes he'd kept his mouth shut.
While Johnny's distracted by other co-stars, Cassie slips over to the director's chair. Shinnok has salt-and-pepper hair and a permanent scowl, although working with Johnny for any length of time probably isn't helping put a smile on his face. He notices her standing there and turns his head. "I didn't ask for a coffee."
"Good thing I didn't bring you one, then," Cassie says, popping her gum at him. "What's eating you, Gilbert Grape, or are you always this grumpy?"
Shinnok frowns. He doesn't recognize her, that much is clear, but he also doesn't send her away. "Who are you?"
She weighs whether her identity as Johnny's daughter would be advantageous, decides to just go for it. "Call me Cass. I know my dad can be a huge diva, but can you go a little easier on him?" She motions to Johnny, who is talking to a crewman and oblivious to her conversation. "Pretty please?"
"You're Cage's daughter?" Shinnok gives her a second look now, really sizing her up.
"Hard to believe, I know."
"And you came here to scold me for being mean to your daddy?"
"I said pretty please, dude. You want me to grovel?"
"That would be a nice start," Shinnok says with a tiny smirk.
"He likened you to Stanley Kubrick circa The Shining."
"I am flattered by the comparison, despite the implications."
Cassie pops another bubble on her chewing gum. "I figured you would be. So why the long face? Divorce got you down?"
Shinnok frowns again. His face must be used to doing that, hence the deep lines around his mouth. "This is not the time nor the place."
"I get it; all business, no pleasure. I'll meet you for a drink when we're done shooting." 'We', she says, like she's part of the crew.
He shakes his head. "I have a prior obligation."
"A date with the gallows?" Cassie jokes, given his morose tone.
"I could only be so lucky."
"Jeez, I was joking."
Before he can give a more detailed answer, Shinnok checks his watch and says, "Oh, look at the time. Back to work."
The final shoot of the day is a dramatic scene, presumably near the end of the movie, where Johnny's character mourns his fallen ninja partner after the latter is killed during the final battle. Johnny Cage will never be among the likes of Joaquin Phoenix or Robert DeNiro when it comes to dramatic acting; he has the ability to play one role—the corny action hero—and he does it damn well. Versatility is not Johnny Cage's forte. Cassie can't recall ever seeing him in a role that required even a fraction of a dramatic performance. Does Johnny have a no-vulnerability clause in his contract? If he does, Shinnok is clearly unaware of it. They go through numerous takes, and Johnny can't seem to channel real human emotion into this one. His delivery is akin to Nicolas Cage's infamous "Not the bees!" scene from The Wicker Man; Cassie briefly wonders if the two are related.
From his chair, Shinnok heaves a sigh and bends at the waist, rubbing his temples. "Cage, do you have no tragedy in your own life from which you can draw inspiration?"
"I can't cry on cue, man," Johnny says. "Just drop some Visine in my eyes and we'll call it a day."
"No." Shinnok sits upright again and steeples his fingers. "This is the moment where your character realizes he has lost everything. His best friend—his brother-in-arms—is gone. And while the rest of the world celebrates, you have nowhere else to go but back to your lonely apartment lesser than you were before, because a part of you has died too. And you will never, ever be whole again."
Johnny lowers his head, the way he does when tears are coming and he doesn't want Cassie seeing them. Maybe he doesn't cry, but there is a tremor in his shoulders as he kneels by the pile of rubble that has buried his partner. For a moment, Cassie is thirteen again, watching her father sit hunched over a bottle of whiskey at the empty dining table, his shoulders rising and falling just like this. Then Johnny covers his face, and maybe that's because Cassie is here and he hates to be vulnerable in front of her, or maybe it has nothing to do with her at all, but it seems to add the level of gravitas Shinnok is looking for. He lets the scene roll, perhaps stuck in some awful memory along with the rest of them.
When the set is closing down and the crew are filing out, Cassie catches Shinnok before he can escape. "You hit below the belt," she says. "A little brutal, but I think it says a lot about you."
"You are not the only one who can read a Wikipedia page." Shinnok politely elbows her out of his way.
"Then you know that I know you're taking out your personal crap on my dad. That's not very cash-money of you."
"And yet he sends a whelp like yourself to defend his honor."
That gets Cassie seeing red, not necessarily at the name-calling but the jab at her father's integrity. "No wonder you're divorced if this is how you treat people." It feels like something her mother would say, one last biting jab at the end of an argument, but the words are out before she can call them back.
Shinnok stops dead at the door, his hand hovering over the huge metal push-bar. Softening her voice, Cassie asks, "How long has it been?"
"Six months."
Six months into Johnny and Sonya's split, Cassie remembers being shuttled to her mom's place on weekends, remembers the snide, backhanded comments Sonya would make about Johnny to Cassie, as though Cassie was her twice-divorced brunch buddy and not her daughter. She remembers every day feeling like a tug-of-war between her two parents with her in the middle.
"Any kids?"
"No," Shinnok says, striking the push-bar as if it has offended him. He exits the studio, and Cassie follows him out to the lot.
"Well, that's good, I guess," Cassie says, treading water. "One less thing to fight over in court."
"I suppose that's an optimistic way of looking at it," he says with no trace of optimism. "Shouldn't you be tending to your father's wounded ego?"
"Excuse me for thinking you might want to talk."
"Since when are you my therapist?"
Cassie shrugs. "Never said I was. But I could be a friend. It's up to you." They've reached his car, a silver Jaguar convertible that's older than Cassie herself.
He stands there, keys in hand, but makes no move to unlock the door, as if he's forgotten how. "My sister's birthday soirée is tonight." He's upper-class for sure; only the social elites use the word 'soirée' in casual conversation. "She is close with the woman who stole my now ex-husband, and I presume the two of them will be in attendance."
"First-world problems," Cassie says before regretting it. She doesn't know why she says shitty things she doesn't mean. Probably a trait from her mother. Shinnok glares at her, and Cassie concedes. "Sorry. Can't you just… not go?"
"Perhaps if this event took place immediately after my"—he searches for a kinder word—"separation. But half a year has passed. There is the unspoken expectation that I have, to some degree, moved on with my life. But that isn't how it works, is it?" Something in his stare is so raw Cassie has to look away.
"Or I could go with you," she suggests. "I'll be the arm-candy you can flaunt in front of your ex, and me being there will keep your sister from asking when you're going to start dating again. It's the perfect ruse." It doesn't occur to her that Shinnok might not want to be seen with the daughter of a movie star, or that something about her is intrinsically undesirable. She was always the popular girl in school, never without her share of suitors; whether they actually liked Cassie or just wanted a taste of fame is unbeknownst to her. In the real world, however, she's just another attractive woman in a city full of them, and Shinnok probably doesn't care that her father is an actor (hell, being Johnny's daughter is probably a strike against her).
Shinnok strokes his chin as though petting an invisible goatee. "I do appreciate a good ruse."
His lack of a solid answer makes her second-guess. "Unless… you're not looking for a woman" He had mentioned an ex-husband, after all.
"I have no preference."
"Then it's a date. Or, a fake-date, for lack of a better word."
Shinnok scowls. "Are you certain you have nothing better to do? I cannot stand to be the object of anyone's pity other than my own."
"Who said anything about pity? I like an adventure."
Shinnok picks her up around 7:30. Cassie's wearing a strapless black dress, cinched at the waist, but the first thing he notices is her hair. "You're wearing a wig?" he asks, incredulous, opening the passenger door for her like a gentleman.
Cassie slides into the seat and fusses with the long fringe. "It's not obvious, is it?" She figured her undercut would make a less-than-stellar impression at such a fancy party (a soirée, rather), so she threw on a long blonde wig.
"To me, yes." He's dressed in a wine red shirt and black pants. His sleeves are pushed up, accentuating his long, bony form. His forearms bear the faint shadows of aged tattoos. "Why do you have that old thing anyway?"
"It was a gag. I went to a Halloween party last year dressed as my mom. I kept it around in case I ever wanted to have long hair again."
"Not the answer I was expecting."
Cassie takes out her phone and posts a selfie she took earlier in the dress onto her Instagram page. "How long were you married?"
"Five years," Shinnok tells her as he drives them toward Beverly Hills. He speaks with an air of wistfulness, as though he has never been happier than when he was married. "I thought he was satisfied with me, despite my shortcomings."
"Marriage is hard," Cassie says. "I've never been in one myself, but I watched my parents from the sidelines." She looks out the window at the vibrant night. "Almost makes me want to avoid the whole thing so I don't repeat their mistakes."
"Or, perhaps, you are a prime candidate for marriage now that you have witnessed its pitfalls. You know where the potholes are, so to speak."
"Maybe. Between you and me? It's good you didn't have kids together. Divorce does terrible things to children."
Shinnok gives a slight nod. "Perhaps if I had been more flexible on the subject of offspring, it would be Raiden sitting there instead of you." He looks at her, then, "No offense intended."
"None taken until you said no offense," Cassie says. "But just because he left doesn't mean anything about you. Maybe he just didn't know what he had."
The party is held at a ritzy restaurant Cassie has heard of but never been to until now. "Do I look okay?" she asks, briefly checking her make-up in the car's drop-down mirror.
"You look exquisite," he says, and she is embarrassed to feel a sexual stirring. He walks her inside, and his hand is warm on the small of her back. Despite his outwardly craggy appearance, his touch is indescribably gentle. Did he touch Raiden this way? Or is this a tamer, more polite version of the way he touches his partners?
Fake-date, Cassie reminds herself. You're only here to make him look good in front of his family.
The outside of the restaurant is alive with greenery, a stone water fountain, and an adobe exterior. A woman with pale skin and mint green hair approaches them as they enter. "Shinnok, I'm so glad you could make it!" They do not hug, rather, she lays a hand on his arm and he reciprocates. She's wearing a flowing blue dress, a crown of daisies weaved into her hair. She looks nothing like him, although they could be adopted siblings.
"Cassandra, this is my sister, Cetrion," Shinnok introduces them, and Cetrion greets her with a handshake.
"Lovely to meet you, Cassandra." She doesn't say 'Shinnok's told me so much about you,' because, well, he hasn't. Cassie has only known him about ten hours, and most of those hours were spent loitering on set while he ragged on her father.
"Happy birthday," Cassie says. "Sorry I didn't bring anything."
"No gifts are necessary," Cetrion says. "The only requirement is to enjoy yourself."
Cassie looks at Shinnok. "Think you can do that?"
Shinnok says he will try, which doesn't fill Cassie with a lot of optimism.
"There is an open bar," Cetrion tells them, as though that might sweeten the deal.
Shinnok heads there immediately. Cassie follows him, afraid he may do something stupid if left alone too long. She has no reason to suspect this, but it's what usually happens in movies, and Cassie's just following the script. The interior is cozy, like a pub or a rustic steakhouse; framed photos and artwork hang on the walls, while ornate chandeliers dangle from the ceiling. The bar itself boasts ten stools and a decorative wall with an array of bottles and taps.
"Are they here yet?" Cassie asks as Shinnok orders a drink. He's taken a seat at the furthest corner of the bar, as though shrouding himself from view.
"I spotted her vile coiffure as soon as I entered." Which means 'yes' in Shinnok-speak.
"What's wrong with her hair?" Cassie scans the patrons, searching for any woman with a particularly objectionable hairstyle. She spots a lady dressed in purple, her long silver hair streaked with black. "Oh, is it the skunk lady?"
Shinnok guffaws. It's the loudest he's been with her, even counting his angry tirades at Johnny. It's also the happiest he's sounded since they met. "Oh, yes, that's the one."
Certain now that she has the right couple in her sights, Cassie studies them. The woman is gorgeous, with winged eyeliner and dark lipstick. Her hair is actually a reverse skunk stripe, but whatever, close enough. It looks good on her, however, hanging down past the small of her back. Either she's never had a haircut in ten years, or she's wearing hair extensions.
The man she's with must be Raiden. He's wearing a white blazer over a blue shirt with white slacks, like he just stepped off the set of a Miami Vice episode. His silver hair stops just past his shoulders.
"Are you sure they're not siblings?" Cassie murmurs while Shinnok sips his drink.
"If they are, I severely misjudged Raiden."
"So who is she? I know you did some extensive Googling on her." It's what Cassie would do, at least.
"Her name is Sindel. She's been divorced and has two daughters from her previous marriage. She seeks out rich men. Her last husband was some sort of Middle Eastern royalty. I would not be surprised if she met Raiden through his practice."
"He's a doctor?"
Shinnok nods. "Plastic surgeon."
Cassie can't help but laugh. "A plastic surgeon and a director. LA in a nutshell, isn't it?"
"Forgive me if I do not share your levity."
Cassie forgives him. "Good thing he's a surgeon; he's gonna need his hand surgically removed from her ass."
"What?" Shinnok spins around in his seat to see what Cassie's seeing. The twisted anger on his face is replaced by an expression of profound loss, and Cassie regrets her comment. "He has his hand on her waist. The same way he used to with me."
"Hey, fuck him, right? He's the one who stepped out on you. And if it's any consolation, he'll probably cheat on her too."
A faint smile appears on Shinnok's mouth. "Would you think less of me if I said that makes me feel better?"
"No way, dude. Being petty can get you through a lot."
As though an actress in the wings, waiting for her cue, Cetrion rejoins them. This time she's brought along a bald, older woman that must be her mother, judging by the cheekbones. "Mother, this is Cassandra, Shinnok's date for the evening," she says. "Why don't the two of you come sit with us? Mother would like to get to know you, Cassandra."
Cassie and Shinnok share a quick glance, a silent acknowledgment that it would be impolite to refuse the offer. They follow the two women to a table near the entrance and sit across from them. There's a small platter of fried zucchini rounds in the middle of the table, and a modest cup of what appears to be dipping sauce. Cassie sneaks a piece, already uncomfortable and wanting something to do with her hands that doesn't involve her phone.
"Shinnok never spoke of how the two of you met," Cetrion says to her. It's the start of an interrogation, especially now that their mother is here. It makes sense, Cassie supposes, since Shinnok's previous partner proved unfaithful.
"We met on the set of his current project," Cassie says.
"Which film would that be? Ninja Mime in Space?" Cetrion scoffs a laugh in a way Shinnok has done plenty; they definitely are siblings, even if not by blood.
Shinnok scowls at his sister.
"Well, they're not The Godfather films, but they're campy fun," Cassie says, feeling nettled by the dismissal of her father's claim to fame.
"Are you an actress?" the mother asks, finally speaking to Cassie for the first time tonight.
Cassie doesn't think she should disclose her parentage here; while it wouldn't bother Cassie, Shinnok probably wouldn't appreciate looking like a sleazebag who dates his coworkers' young daughters. Granted, that is kind of what he's doing, but post-divorce it might be a touchy subject.
"No, I'm a script consultant. Y'know, making sure everything fits in with the Ninja Mime canon." Cassie has no idea what kind of roller coaster this lie will take her on, but she's in it for the long haul.
Cetrion and Shinnok's mother do not seem impressed. Figures. "I see," the older woman says. "And what do you do on the other 364 days of the year?" There's no way to make that sentence sound any less aggressive, and Cassie doubts any attempts were made at softening it.
"Must you stick your nose into everything?" Shinnok interrupts before Cassie can reply. "I'm sure Cassandra did not accompany me with the intention of being interrogated."
"I kind of assumed it was a given," Cassie says.
"Interrogated?" Their mother sniffs in the way that haughty, high-society people do. "You are always so dramatic, Shinnok. I simply asked a question." She dismisses him with a shake of her head and turns her attention to Cassie. "Cassandra, dear, you don't feel interrogated, do you?"
"No, Missus—"
"Call me Kronika. No need for formalities. I am only curious what business you are in."
"I'm actually between jobs right now," Cassie says. She's in her final year of college, but to say so would make her seem juvenile. Seeking a way out, she asks the two women, "What about you? Shinnok didn't tell me anything about you."
"I am a cardiac surgeon," Cetrion says. "At least once a year I travel as part of Doctors Without Borders to perform surgeries on the less fortunate."
Don't break your arm jerking yourself off, Cassie thinks but does not say. "That must be how Shinnok met Raymond—"
"Raiden," Shinnok corrects, sounding miserable, as though the name itself aggravates a fresh wound.
Cetrion's mouth twitches, as though she's fighting back a displeased expression. "Yes, I introduced the two of them at a party."
"I warned you not to marry him, remember?" Kronika tells Shinnok, who rolls his eyes and downs his drink in one go. Cassie steals another zucchini slice.
"Can we discuss something else, please?" Shinnok says. "Why don't you tell Cassandra about your history in theatre?"
Kronika chuckles, feigning modesty. Cassie wonders if Kronika intended for the conversation to grow heated enough for Shinnok to beg for a subject change. "Well, if you insist…"
While Kronika talks, Shinnok rises from the table and heads for the back of the restaurant, probably for another drink. Meanwhile, Cassie learns all about Kronika's past roles, including Audrey in Little Shop of Horrors, and Janet from The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Kronika has been retired from the stage for about ten years, but clearly she's eager to talk about her heyday. And does she talk. Even Cetrion seems to be disinterested; she gives Cassie a pained, "please excuse my mother" look that Cassie had given her own friends back in high school when her father would crack lame jokes to make them laugh, even if at his own expense.
But Cassie sees a bit of her own mother in Kronika, and this similarity prevents her from finding a conversational exit. So she listens and nods in the right places, even asks a few questions to keep Kronika talking. At some point, Cetrion glances behind her, turning to look over the back of the booth, searching for her brother who has made himself conveniently scarce.
"Shinnok seems to have disappeared," Cetrion observes during a pause in Kronika's monologue.
Kronika lifts a thin, overly-plucked eyebrow. "Did he? I hadn't noticed."
"I'll go look for him," Cassie volunteers, sliding out of the booth. "Maybe he can't hold his liquor."
Shinnok did indeed leave the table for a drink, but after downing his third shot of whiskey he hears his own name from familiar lips, and his heart breaks all over again.
Raiden is there, standing over him the way he used to when they were married, when Shinnok would come home from a stressful day and take up on the couch, brooding with a bottle of Macallan, while Raiden would ask if he needed anything. "I had a feeling you would come," Raiden says, inexplicably pleasant, like they're still a couple. "The invitation stated there was an open bar."
Shinnok frowns. "If that is a jab at my alcoholism, I don't appreciate it."
"Well, the first step is admitting you have a problem."
"What do you want, Raiden? Must you befoul this place with your presence?"
"I simply want to speak with you." Raiden looks at the glass in Shinnok's hand. "Preferably elsewhere."
Despite all the anger Shinnok has for Raiden, he can't help but allow the guy a few moments to speak his mind. Shinnok would want the same courtesy himself. He follows Raiden around the corner to an outdoor dining area, then up a small set of stairs leading to a miniature patio. It's not much in the way of privacy, but it's the thought that counts, and more isolated than the crowded dining areas.
"Is this the part where you beg my forgiveness?" Shinnok asks. "As much as I love a good grovel, I'm afraid it will not change anything."
"Still so prideful, I see." Raiden's hair does a soft flutter in the breeze, and Shinnok momentarily considers throwing all the messiness of their divorce aside and taking him back. Look where your pride has gotten you, he thinks. More alone than you have ever been. Why not settle for the false happiness of your marriage than the dark truth of loneliness?
"I don't think I ever truly apologized to you," Raiden says. "With all my heart, I am sorry. I have been a fool."
"Don't sell yourself short," Shinnok says. "You've been much more than that."
Raiden bows his head, as if prepared to accept any invectives Shinnok might throw his way. "This is true. In any case, I apologize for the pain I have caused you. If I could take that pain upon myself, I would."
And Shinnok would consider giving it to him, but what would be the point? Pettiness, as Cassie claimed, might help him get through the hurt, but, goddamn it, Shinnok loves Raiden, even after all of this, and inflicting pain on him just for revenge's sake feels empty. Shinnok has seen that shit first-hand, how the hunger for vengeance can consume until there is nothing left but a shell. Besides, drinking masks the pain decently enough.
"Alright. Apology received."
There is a pause, as if Raiden is waiting for Shinnok to say more. "Is that forgiveness?"
"No. I am simply acknowledging that you have spoken."
Raiden seems to sense that isn't sarcasm on Shinnok's part. "I want to fix this, Shinnok—"
"Well, you cannot. I have been so goddamned decent with you through all of this, and since you seem to think you are owed my forgiveness, I choose to withhold it. I will not be a pawn used to absolve your guilt."
Raiden clutches Shinnok's hand. "I will leave Sindel. I see now that she only desires my financial assets."
"Oh, like the ones you insisted upon taking from me during our divorce? The money you felt you were owed because I was too besotted with you to sign a prenuptial agreement?"
Raiden exhales in that tired way of his that Shinnok is intimately familiar with. It's a sigh reserved only for arguments, the kind of frustration that bubbles up when tolerating the hostility of an unreasonable spouse. "I was blinded by greed and anger. Chalk it up to more of my own foolishness; I know you're keeping score."
Shinnok smiles wryly. "How well you know me."
The creases in Raiden's expression fill with hope. "How well we know each other."
"And yet you chose to leave." Shinnok was almost falling for it—Raiden's insidious, subtle persuasion to hit that reset button on their relationship and start over—but what he couldn't get past was how Raiden came here with Sindel, with his arm around her goddamn waist. A man cannot play both sides, not unless he wants to lose it all.
"I truly do care for you," Raiden says, his voice shaking, and he finally gets it now, that there will be no grand reconciliation.
"And I care for you, but this changes nothing. May I offer a word of advice? Embrace the darkness inside of you. For Sindel's sake, at least, so she won't be taken by surprise when you are not the benevolent person I thought you were."
They stare at each other for a while, perhaps waiting for the other to acquiesce first. Raiden bows his head in admission of defeat.
"If that is what you want," he says, "then I will no longer interfere with your life. Take care, dear friend."
Shinnok watches Raiden leave, feeling raw and ripped open, like another vital piece has been torn from him. He has no idea if he'll look back on this moment as a glaring mistake, a pothole that sent him swerving out of control and straight into self-destruction. He'll definitely use this experience in his upcoming screenplay. Above all, pain must be useful.
Cassandra finds him a minute or two later and climbs the stairs to join him. "Hey. You okay?"
"No."
"You did the right thing. I was worried you would take him back 'cause you're afraid of being alone."
"I never said—" Shinnok pauses. "Were you eavesdropping?"
Cassie shrugs. "Sorry. When my parents started arguing a lot, I used to hide at the top of the stairs or around a corner to listen in. Old habits die hard, I guess." She studies his face, and he feels scrutinized. "Come back inside?"
Shinnok wants to go home and sulk, but Cassie is kinder to him than he probably deserves. And leaving prematurely will likely ignite gossip between Cetrion and Kronika. Staying seems to be the lesser of two evils, so he agrees.
The rest of the party goes on without incident. Cassie keeps an eye on Shinnok's alcohol intake, though he imbibes two more shots over the remaining hour. When the festivities are over, Cetrion says her goodbyes to the trickle of departing guests. Kronika touches Shinnok's face in a gesture so tender it makes Cassie a little jealous. She can't remember the last time her own mother did something like that with her; Johnny has always been the physical parent, missing no opportunity to give his daughter a hug or a kiss, even when she feels too old for it.
"Take care of yourself," Kronika says to him, her voice soft. "You will be happy again, but you must allow yourself the possibility."
"Mother, please."
"Hush. I have been around a lot longer than you. I have known pain and overcome it. But you are responsible for your own happiness."
"Forgive me for being wounded by my husband's infidelity."
"That is on him, not you." Shinnok gives Cassie a pained look, and Kronika turns her attention to Cassie. "I do not envy you, Cassandra. This one is incredibly strong-willed, even to his detriment."
"I am still here," Shinnok says with annoyance. Cassie takes his hand; Kronika notices this nonverbal affection and smiles to herself.
"Enjoy the rest of your night," Kronika says. As Shinnok departs, Kronika grasps Cassie's arm and murmurs, "Keep an eye on him tonight, won't you?"
Cassie nods, letting Shinnok go. His surprise encounter with Raiden must have thrown him for a loop. "I will."
When they get outside, Cassie says, "Let's take a walk. There's a boba tea place not too far from here."
Shinnok goes with her, and as they pass the line of cars parallel parked around the building Cassie feels herself shivering in the cool night air. Stupid not to bring a sweater, though she hadn't thought they'd be outside very long. This walk is primarily an excuse to help Shinnok sober up a bit before the drive home. Boba tea is just a bonus.
Shinnok stops before they pass the restaurant. "One moment. I seem to have left something in my car."
Cassie's about to stop him, but he's already headed toward the Jag, so she loiters near a parking meter and pulls up the map to the café on her phone. Shinnok returns a few moments later with a suit jacket that he drapes over Cassie's trembling shoulders.
She thanks him, somewhat bewildered. This kind gesture reminds her of something her father has done for her many times, and it makes her heart ache. As they pass rows of cars and the twinkle of lights from inside nearby shops and restaurants, Shinnok keeps an arm entwined with hers. The intimacy frightens her a bit, so she tries to distract herself by asking him questions. "What's the real project you're working on? I know you only signed on to Ninja Mime so you could finance something good."
Shinnok smiles at her, a real smile, for the first time. "I may be rather acclaimed for my films, but I have never sold a screenplay. I suppose the studios are afraid to take a chance on a first-time writer, even if he has won Best Director five times over."
"Need some help jerking yourself off?" Cassie jokes.
"I get by just fine on my own, thanks. But if you are offering…"
She laughs. "What's your screenplay about?"
"Oh, the usual mid-life crisis suburban drama formula: big-shot writer's wife leaves him, and he returns to his hometown to reconnect with his estranged family whom he has burnt bridges with over the years."
"But does he meet and fall in love with a woman who's witty, gorgeous, and of course damaged in her own way?"
Shinnok chuckles. "I cannot decide if I want a story with truth or merely a happy lie."
"Most stories are happy lies. But that doesn't make them bad, in the same way that just because they're gritty and dark doesn't mean they're good." All Cassie can hear is the click-clack of her high-heels. She doesn't like wearing heels, but she tends to be shorter than everyone around her, so a few extra inches on her height is only fair.
"I suppose… But this screenplay is personal. I feel as though I would be cheating myself if I wrote some trite happy ending, not because of some overblown sense of artistic integrity, but simply because it would not feel honest to me. Perhaps I cannot explain myself."
"No, I get it. When I was a teenager, I wrote a bunch of stories where I was a cool Nancy Drew type of investigator solving mysteries around my school, but the biggest mystery I couldn't solve was why my mom and dad didn't love each other anymore. A small part of me hoped one of my parents would stumble on that notebook, read it, and see how deep my pain was. I know it's dumb, looking back on it now, but when you're hurting, sometimes you want to create a cry for help."
When they reach the café, Cassie goes inside to order, then brings her drink out to one of the outdoor seating tables. They sit together and watch the headlights pass. "You have quite the profound mind," Shinnok says. "Conversations with Raiden were rarely so philosophical."
"Then why'd you marry him? I wouldn't even date someone I couldn't have fun talking with."
"There were other things," he admits. "A familiarity in some emptiness inside of us, an emptiness that needed filling. We both appeared as strangers, not only to ourselves but to the world."
Who the fuck talks like this out loud, Cassie wonders, but his precise, poetic manner of speech is almost enviable. Her speech is filled with colloquialisms, with filler words and pauses and juvenile humor. Shinnok speaks like he's from another time, lacking the clutter of her own speech.
She sips her tea and finds that this shared silence with him is comfortable. He has been quite candid with her, so she supposes it's only fair to return said directness. She reaches for his hand, and he lets her take it. His skin is strangely soft. "I'm not really between jobs. I'm in my last year of college at UCLA."
"What is your field of study?"
"I'm getting my MBA. Some friends and I want to open a cat café." She reads the confusion on his face. "It's like a Starbucks, but you can pet and adopt cats while you hang out there."
"That sounds respectable. Why didn't you say so?" Shinnok asks, seeming more inquisitive than accusatory.
"I thought saying I'm still in college would make me sound too young. Which is fine, I guess, but I didn't want your sister thinking you're going through some post-divorce mid-life crisis and going out with girls that are, like, half your age just because they like your movies."
"One should always call a spade a spade," Shinnok says.
"I never said I liked your movies," Cassie retorts.
"You didn't need to." A faint smirk appears, and, oh, he's really cute when he's teasing.
She glances away, because her cheeks are already on fire, and if she looks at him any longer she might burst into flame. "In your screenplay, you—you mentioned how the main character's family dislike him. Are you writing from experience there, or… I mean, your mom seemed nice." She feels their comfortable intimacy slipping away; that conscious acknowledgment of her attraction to Shinnok has made her squirm, and she fears he can sense it too.
"She certainly knows how to put on a performance," Shinnok says. "She shaves her head for the sympathy of strangers, you know. People assume she must have undergone cancer treatment, and she doesn't correct them."
"Holy shit."
"I'm sure she was disappointed you never brought it up. But my mother has always viewed me as her most useless child. Cetrion is more like her, at least where it counts. Nothing seems to be quite enough for Kronika."
"Oof. I feel that. And I don't even have siblings. Mom's got no one to blame but me. And Dad, I guess."
"What could she possibly take issue with?"
"For one, how I'm not following her career path. She went military pretty early on, and that's what she expects me to do. And it doesn't help that her former CO has a daughter my age who's enlisting. So I get to hear the 'why can't you be more like Jacqui' spiel. There's something really soul-crushing about being held to the standards of a friend instead of a sibling."
"You do not have siblings. Your mother must work with what she has."
Cassie snickers. "At least Dad's on my side, which makes the tension between my parents even worse, 'cause it looks like I chose him over my mom." And in a way, she supposes, she did. She finishes her tea and opens the cup to jab one of the dark pearls with the end of the straw. She notices Shinnok watching her and offers him the straw. He takes the pearl between his teeth before chewing it, and Cassie briefly imagines his mouth handling one of her nipples that way. Not so much the chewing part, but the tender graze of teeth over sensitive skin.
They share the pearls until the cup is empty. On the walk back to the car, his arm finds its way around her waist. Cassie returns the favor, and some of the tension in his posture vanishes. "You're a big-shot director; how can your mom still think that's not good enough? Especially since she was in theatre."
"I am sure you're aware mothers can be quite hypocritical. Even so, Cetrion has degrees and a doctorate, the sorts of things that a mother can brag about. My sister saves lives. Raiden, too, for all his faults. All I do is point a camera at over-paid actors. No offense to your father."
"Y'know, I do like your movies. The Devil's Hand is one of my favorite films of all time. It came out when my parents first started fighting with each other. I would sneak into the theater after school just to see it, mostly because Brad Pitt had the lead role. And even though it was dark and disturbing… it made me happy 'cause it was a good movie. It gave me something to analyze and rewatch and… distract me from all the crap going on around me. I bet every single movie you've made has at least a million people like me who think it's something really special. Raiden and Cetrion save lives, but what you do is important too. Art enriches lives. But maybe I'm biased as the daughter of an actor."
He's watching her, staring at her eyes and her mouth, and in a movie this is the part where he would kiss her, but he doesn't. He seems to have read something on her face that discourages him. Instead, he nods, says, "Even if you are biased, I appreciate your candor."
When they reach the car, Cassie insists on driving, to which Shinnok doesn't protest. Cassie heads for her condo, which is really one of Johnny's old abodes, one on which he still pays rent. His financial generosity makes Cassie uncomfortable sometimes, but the condo is better than any place she could afford to pay on a college student's salary, so she lets him pay the bills.
"You don't think I made a mistake, do you?" Shinnok asks, gazing out the passenger side window. "Sending Raiden away. Not accepting his apology."
"He had something really special and unique, but he threw it away. It's his turn to hurt."
"Was infidelity a point of contention in your parents' marriage?"
"No, but I don't think marriage vows are to be taken lightly." She's starting to speak like him now. Shit. Maybe he's experiencing the same thing; she's heard him lapse into contractions and formal speech a few times tonight. She imagines it's akin to watching a British movie and subsequently slipping into the characters' accents afterwards.
Cassie parks in the driveway, observing Shinnok's surprise when she slides out and asks, "You wanna come in?" She tosses him his car keys, and he almost fumbles the catch. "Don't look so surprised. You know you're totally getting some."
A flush spreads across his cheeks, his eyes wide. He looks way too befuddled for someone wanting to get laid tonight.
"I mean... if that's what you want," Cassie amends, feeling rebuked.
"It does not matter to me either way," Shinnok says. "But if you would like to have intercourse—"
"God, don't call it that," Cassie groans. "Just... come inside. We'll figure it out." She brings him inside the condo while she thinks of a way to smooth out this awkwardness they've created (yes, Shinnok's just as much to blame here thanks to his poor choice of words). "So are you, like, asexual or something?"
"I suppose that's what you would call it. I have no interest in sex myself, but if it is something my partner wants I am happy to provide."
Cassie wants to keep him talking, but she knows they're dangerously close to the threshold where talking about having sex too much will preclude them actually having it. He did say he would be happy to provide…
They end up in her bedroom, with her straddling his hips and smearing her lip gloss over his mouth with each kiss. He bites at her lips, his hands settled on her waist, where her dress has become more like a t-shirt bunched around her hips.
"Take that ridiculous thing off," he murmurs, so she reaches back, finds the zipper and guides it down.
Shinnok looks at her with a wry expression. "I was referring to this." He tugs at the ponytail of her wig for emphasis.
She'd forgotten she was even wearing it, hadn't even noticed his hand had been there. "Oh..." She unfastens the wig and removes the cap. She ties her loose hair into a small bun with an elastic from her nightstand. "Better?"
"Very much so." He dips his head to reach the hollow of her throat. His tongue is wet, almost as wet as she is. His mouth finds her breast, then her nipple.
"Fuck," she groans, taking his hand and pushing it down the front of her underwear. "Right here." He's good at taking directions, seems to know just how to make his fingers press and probe, but Cassie's so sensitive his prowess (or lack thereof) probably wouldn't matter much anyway. She guides his strokes with her hips, occasionally urging his fingers inside while his mouth stays occupied with her chest and throat.
The motion of his hand and her hips, the way his palm is pressed flat against her mound, all of it makes her thighs shake. When his teeth graze over a nipple again, she swears, feeling herself coming apart. She braces herself against him, her hands on his shoulders, and rides his fingers until she breaks. Her orgasm almost doesn't seem to end, each roll of her hips extending the weightless bliss. He knows enough to work her slowly, almost unbearably slow against her throbbing inner muscles. She slumps against him, catching her breath while ecstasy drips down her thighs; through it all, his fingers are still achingly present.
"Shit," Cassie moans, "that was awesome. I owe you one."
"Nonsense. It is I who owes you for such a wonderful evening."
"Well, you're paid up." Her thighs are still shaking, and she slides off of him, landing beside Shinnok on the bed. She drags her crumpled dress down her thighs and legs before discarding it onto the floor.
"If you insist."
"If you want to go the extra mile, be my guest." She smiles at him, and his expression remains oddly unreadable.
"You are afraid of being alone, aren't you?" he asks right the fuck out of nowhere. "That is why you assumed I am."
Somehow this makes her feel more exposed than her own nudity. She denies the accusation, albeit covering herself with the comforter.
"It is quite hard to need people," Shinnok says.
Cassie finds herself snuggling closer to him, her fingers playing with the last few closed buttons on his shirt. "But this is easy, isn't it?"
"It is."
Cassie sleeps in, which means Shinnok is gone by the time she wakes up. Her dress is laid across the bed, her wig crowned atop one of the bedposts. Shinnok must have tidied up while she was asleep, which strikes her as incredibly sweet. The suit jacket she'd borrowed from him is slung over the back of the couch; leaving the jacket here must have been intentional—clearly Shinnok did not leave in a hurry.
There are two unread messages on her phone, which is currently in the throes of low battery death. She scrambles to reach the charger on the floor and plugs in the device. The first message is from Shinnok: Thank you again for a delightful evening. Perhaps we can enjoy each other's company again sometime.
Cassie writes back: Name the time and place.
The second text comes from Johnny: I don't know what you said to him, but Shinnok is waaaayyyy less of an asshole today.
Cassie had almost forgotten this all started with Johnny complaining about his mistreatment on set. She smiles to herself, considers flirting with the truth but decides against it. Instead, she types: Must be that patented Cage charm.