Part Two, Chapter Six: A Star is Born

Beatrice woke up before Charliethe next morning, something that was more than a little unusual. She tried to roll out of bed as quietly as possible, but Charlie caught her just as she was almost up, and pulled her back into the sheets.

"Charlie!" She sighed.

Charlie wiggled her way closer, pressing her face against her chest and squeezing her tightly.

"Don't get up yet. You're so soft and warm…" Charlie slurred tiredly as she nuzzled against her breasts. "Mmm... comfy."

"Charlie…" Beatrice sighed again, this time more softly.

"I wanna snuggle!" Chalrie whined. "Let me!"

Beatrice bit back her smile, and ran her hand softly through Charlie's sleep tousled hair, smoothing it down.

"Charlie, you know I love to snuggle with you, but I have a meeting to get to."

Charlie huffed dramatically and rolled away.

"Uhg. Fine!" She pouted. After a short pause she popped back up, giving Beatrice a confused look. "Wait. A meeting? What kind of meeting?"

"Uh—" Beatrice nervously swallowed.

She hadn't exactly told Charlie about her career plan yet, and she wasn't exactly looking forward to it either. She didn't know why exactly she had waited so long.

Upsetting Charlie seemed scary. She already felt like she didn’t deserve her.

It wasn't like she could keep it a secret forever. That would be insane.

Although maybe…

No, no. That was ridiculous.

"Um. I have a meeting with an agent today." She said.

Charlie blinked.

"An agent?"

"Yes." Beatrice said carefully. "To represent me. As a hero."

Charlie blinked again, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly parted.

"Oh…"

"I'm sorry, Charlie I forgot to tell you." Beatrice said, letting the words spill out. "I—I just don't want you to be mad at me."

Charlie's face quickly returned to its normal, cheery disposition.

"No worries, B!" She said.

"I was just worried you'd be mad at me. Then I started to worry about it, and I— I swear it was just a few days ago." Beatrice sighed and hung her head. "I dont know where my head's been lately."

Somewhere bad.

.

"Like I said, no worries." Charlie said. "If you're following your dreams, then I'm happy for you! Why don't you call me afterwards to let me know how it goes?"

"O—okay. Wait. What if you're in a meeting?"

"Then I'll just step out. Anything for you, B!"

Charlie leaped up and gathered her into a hug, pulling her down onto the bed again. Though she seemed happy, Beatrice couldn't help but feel that she was hiding her disappointment.

Charlie's driver took Beatrice to the address the agent had given her. It was a tall, slick building, pretty much indistinguishable from every other one in the city.

It felt strange to go in alone.

Beatrice hated being in public, but it was somehow worse when she was alone.

As soon as she stepped in a woman greeted her.

"Ah, Mrs. Padgett!"

Well, Beatrice assumed it counted as greeting. The woman's eyes didn't leave her phone for the entire sentence.

She was a skinny, short woman, who's black hair was cut in a stylish bob. The creases around her eyes told Beatrice that she probably did a lot of frowning.

"Uh, yes? That’s me." Beatrice said. "But I prefer to be called Beatrice."

It felt strange to be called by her last name. She didn't like to hear it.

"Of course it's you." The woman said. "I see your face all over the gossip pages. I'd recognize it anywhere! I'm Alice Williamson, your agent."

Beatrice dumbly swallowed.

Luckily, the woman filled the air for her.

"Come on, follow me to the elevator."

Beatrice did as she was told, and followed her inside. The woman scanned her ID card, and then punched in a number at lighting speed. The door slid shut once they were inside, and Beatrice was left alone with her.

There was a vibration, and Alice put away the phone she was typing on and pulled out a second phone from her pocket.

"Hey, yes! Oh yes. I heard. Uh huh. Cilantro's gonna be out for two more weeks? Does a broken leg really need that long? I mean, for a mid tier hero that much time without publicity is a career killer. I doubt he'll be able to get any work once he gets out of that cast. Can't he fly anyway? Yeah. Hmh. I know. I'll work something out."

Beatrice glanced to the side nervously at her callous tone.

The door slid open, and Alice stepped out, still chatting away on her phone. Beatrice awkwardly followed her through another set of doors, these made of frosted glass, and into a pale blue room.

There was a table in the middle, at which five people sat around. On the right wall,  there was a series of doors, and all across the wall directly in front of her, a pane of glass that displayed a dazzling view of Central New Atlanta.

"I'll call you again later. I'm with a more important client right now."

She returned the cell phone to her pocket and her demeanor instantly changed to one of artificial cheer.

"Beatrice, this is my dream team!" She said. "They're going to help make you into a star! Though I doubt you'll need much help with how much you've been in the news cycle these past few months."

That wasn't a lie. Everyone seemed to want to know more about Charlie Delaque's reclusive kidnapper turned lover. It was smothering.

Beatrice didn't know what to do so she awkwardly waved.

"I can't believe you actually got her to come." One of the men said.

Beatrice blushed and looked at the ground.

"Stanley, you're on thin ice." Alice said cheerfully. It was actually pretty intimidating. Beatrice didn't think she would find herself so scared of a woman she could easily toss through a window.

"Anyway, we've already taken care of a lot of the basics." Alice continued. "Your basic application, background check, your licensing agreement, and we even got pre-approval of your physical health by getting access to your medical records!"

Beatrice frowned.

"Is that...legal?"

"In the most roundabout sense of the word, yes!"  Alice said. "We'll just need you to sign a few things, evaluate your mental health, get a rough sense of what your image is going to be, and work on some promo images."

Beatrice thought that still sounded like a lot, but before she had ample time to think about it, there was a pen in her hand and a stack of papers in front of her.

One extremely cramped hand later, Alice was escorting her to one of the side rooms for her mental evaluation. She found herself the most worried about that.

Why should I be worried? There's nothing wrong with me. She told herself. I need to stop being such a baby. I'm fine.

She plopped down in a chair, alone with a bespectacled middle age man who looked well and thoroughly bored.

"Hello Beatrice. I'm Mr. Kerry." He said, his voice monotone and uninterested.

"Uh, hello—"

"I know you're probably annoyed that you even have to do this, believe me, I am too, but it is the law. You wouldn't believe what the suicide rate is for this field of work is. I mean, it's just, you know, through the roof." He chucked.

Beatrice let out a nervous, half-hearted laugh in response.

Despite her concerns, it was surprisingly easy to answer the questions. She just said the things she thought she needed to. The right answers.

Was she dealing with any anxiety or depression? Nope!

Did she ever feel like the future was pointless, or have a general feeling of hopelessness? Of course not!

Nightmares or insomnia? Never! She slept like a baby every single night!

Feeling worthless? Her? Please.

Did she ever feel empty, or out of touch with her emotions? Had you met her? Ha. Nope.

Once that was cleared, Alice escorted her back to the main room, and introduced the other people one at a time.

Jason and Dallas were over her marketing and style.

Stanley took care of PR. (Alice instructed her to call him anytime she did anything she felt might be even remotely stupid.) She decided to call him bitchy Stanley in the safety of her mind.

Glenn and Barry were her personal trainers, and generally seemed much quieter than the other three.

None of that information made her feel any more comfortable talking to them.

Still, Alice continued.

"First thing's first. Your image. It's the most important thing about you. It's what sells you to the public. I always ask the client to give me their own ideas, even if they do usually end up being stupid." Alice said. "I mean, for God's sake, I had a client ask to be 'cheese guy' one time. Can you believe that?"

"Don't put too much pressure on yourself." Dallas said. "It's your job to beat people up, not come up with ideas that will sell. That's for us to figure out for you."

Suddenly, every eye on the room was on her, and she felt her heart begin to race as she immediately put pressure on herself.

Alright, B. Just don't say cheese guy and you should at least be better off than that one guy.

"Uh, well…" she stuttered out. "I guess all I've ever wanted to be was just… Shadow Witch."

Bitchy Stanley immediately scoffed.

"You mean a petty criminal and a public nuisance? Sounds like a PR nightmare."

Anger welled up in her immediately, but she managed to bite it back.

"No wait, that could work." Jason said. "There were a good number of people who saw him as a martyr, and straight laced heros like Copper Knight are on the way out."

Dallas nodded. "Kids like their role models to be edgier these days."

"I'm thinking… anti hero." Jason said it like it was a word he'd just made up.

The room chattered excitedly in agreement.

"Good ideas, good ideas." Alice agreed. "Maybe we could focus on something bad about you… Do you have any addictions? Alcoholism perhaps?"

"Uh no…"

Not yet anyway.

"Do you have a temper? Did you ever beat anyone up for no reason?" Alice pressed

"I mean,  I kidnapped my girlfriend. Shouldn't that be enough? That's… pretty terrible? Right?"

"No, no. People are just going to think that's hot." Alice said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Weird, but okay. I won't read too much into that…

"I mean, basically everyone in her family is a domestic terrorist." Bitchy Stanley spoke up.

Beatrice felt her stomach drop and her hands grow clammy. She was hoping that by the grace of some sort of higher power, that that wouldn't get brought up.

She didn't know why she had set her expectations so high.

"A redemption arc?" Alice said. "Maybe you could wrestle against your dark nature? Constantly waging war against the evil inside you?"

Beatrice didn't like that one. It felt a little bit too close to how she actually felt.

It was the one inescapable thought she could never really get out of her head. That she might be more like her mother than she cared to realize.

That some part of her was just fundamentally bad and there was nothing she could do about it.

She suddenly like she wasn't in the room anymore, like she had detached herself from her body.

Alice, however, didn't seem to notice.

"Come on." She said. "We still have a lot to do!"

Special shout out to anyone who's ever read this story, it menas a lot to me! I made a ko-fi if you want to support me. The link is in my bio, but no pressure obvs. The best support is always your comments bc I read every single one and they always make my day better.

Stay safe and healthy!!!!

- ur goth mom