Metal Whispers
Title: Going Viral
Word Count: 606
Crossposted: HERE at runaway-tales
“Wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked as they turned down the winding road leading away from the palace. Staring out the windows, watching the perfectly manicured hedges and brilliantly landscaped gardens move past under the bright half-moon, Keelin shrugged absently.
“I’m not sure,” she said finally. “It was... a bit of an adventure.” She twisted in her seat so that she could face him, secretly enjoying the way his eyes darted to her every few seconds, her head only just starting to clear from the cool evening air. “How do you handle it?” she asked.
“Handle what?”
“The whole famous thing.”
“I don’t think about it.” When he saw her face fall in disappointment, he laughed. “Sorry, I’m guessing you were expecting more?”
“I figured there was more to it than that, yeah,” she replied.
“Contrary to popular belief, I spend more time working than I do being famous,” he said with a wink.
“But all the talk shows, the photo shoots, the interviews -”
“All part of my contract.” He slowed as they approached one of the guard towers, and joined a queue of several other cars idling as they waited their turn. “It’s all work, you know.”
“You mean to tell me you don’t enjoy it?” she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief. “I don’t buy it. There’s always these photos of you out partying, or at the games, or -”
“You realize it’s all just an act, right?” He leaned back in his seat, tugging at the cuff of his jacket. “I get told to take an invite to some club show downtown. What to wear, what to order, what to drink. When I get there, they sit me next to some hand-picked crowd. Defense Minister’s daughter, flavor of the month rock star, some actor or another. Snap a bunch of photos of us grinning, and just like that -” he snaps his fingers “- the program remains cool and relevant.”
“So it’s all fake?” she said, though it was more a statement than anything, as she crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “I’m not sure I buy that.”
“What aren’t you buying?”
“You’re saying you’re not friends with Tony Cammins, from that boy band?”
“I’d rather saw my own leg off than hang out with that guy.”
“And you don’t go to the Red Door?” she asked, referring to the upscale wine bar on the waterfront.
“Nope.” He pulled the car ahead and waited while the scan ran across the vehicle, then continued down the road. “I live four blocks from the place, but I’ve been inside once. I don’t do wine.” He smiled at her baffled expression. “However, there’s a great underground place called Switchblades over on Northway. We should go sometime.”
“What about that Defense Minister’s daughter?” she asked, and Daxen’s face clouded.
“Okay, she was real,” he admitted.
“Was?”
“We dated for a couple months, yeah.”
“Mmm. And that video that was so popular?” She couldn’t help but grin when she saw a hint of pink creeping into Daxen’s cheeks.
“No idea what you’re talking about,” he said.
“Mmhm. Is that why you’re blushing?”
“If you’re insinuating that was me in the video -”
“Yeah, yeah, I heard the official version.” She waved a dismissive hand at him. “I’m wondering what the unofficial story is.”
“Not me.”
“No?” she asked, and his face flushed even darker. “Sure looked like you...” He cleared his throat and shook his head.
“Definitely not.”
“Hmm...” she mused, pursing her lips thoughtfully as she looked him up and down, thoroughly enjoying his embarrassment. “That’s a shame.”
Word Count: 606
Crossposted: HERE at runaway-tales
“Wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked as they turned down the winding road leading away from the palace. Staring out the windows, watching the perfectly manicured hedges and brilliantly landscaped gardens move past under the bright half-moon, Keelin shrugged absently.
“I’m not sure,” she said finally. “It was... a bit of an adventure.” She twisted in her seat so that she could face him, secretly enjoying the way his eyes darted to her every few seconds, her head only just starting to clear from the cool evening air. “How do you handle it?” she asked.
“Handle what?”
“The whole famous thing.”
“I don’t think about it.” When he saw her face fall in disappointment, he laughed. “Sorry, I’m guessing you were expecting more?”
“I figured there was more to it than that, yeah,” she replied.
“Contrary to popular belief, I spend more time working than I do being famous,” he said with a wink.
“But all the talk shows, the photo shoots, the interviews -”
“All part of my contract.” He slowed as they approached one of the guard towers, and joined a queue of several other cars idling as they waited their turn. “It’s all work, you know.”
“You mean to tell me you don’t enjoy it?” she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief. “I don’t buy it. There’s always these photos of you out partying, or at the games, or -”
“You realize it’s all just an act, right?” He leaned back in his seat, tugging at the cuff of his jacket. “I get told to take an invite to some club show downtown. What to wear, what to order, what to drink. When I get there, they sit me next to some hand-picked crowd. Defense Minister’s daughter, flavor of the month rock star, some actor or another. Snap a bunch of photos of us grinning, and just like that -” he snaps his fingers “- the program remains cool and relevant.”
“So it’s all fake?” she said, though it was more a statement than anything, as she crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “I’m not sure I buy that.”
“What aren’t you buying?”
“You’re saying you’re not friends with Tony Cammins, from that boy band?”
“I’d rather saw my own leg off than hang out with that guy.”
“And you don’t go to the Red Door?” she asked, referring to the upscale wine bar on the waterfront.
“Nope.” He pulled the car ahead and waited while the scan ran across the vehicle, then continued down the road. “I live four blocks from the place, but I’ve been inside once. I don’t do wine.” He smiled at her baffled expression. “However, there’s a great underground place called Switchblades over on Northway. We should go sometime.”
“What about that Defense Minister’s daughter?” she asked, and Daxen’s face clouded.
“Okay, she was real,” he admitted.
“Was?”
“We dated for a couple months, yeah.”
“Mmm. And that video that was so popular?” She couldn’t help but grin when she saw a hint of pink creeping into Daxen’s cheeks.
“No idea what you’re talking about,” he said.
“Mmhm. Is that why you’re blushing?”
“If you’re insinuating that was me in the video -”
“Yeah, yeah, I heard the official version.” She waved a dismissive hand at him. “I’m wondering what the unofficial story is.”
“Not me.”
“No?” she asked, and his face flushed even darker. “Sure looked like you...” He cleared his throat and shook his head.
“Definitely not.”
“Hmm...” she mused, pursing her lips thoughtfully as she looked him up and down, thoroughly enjoying his embarrassment. “That’s a shame.”