Participants:
| Scene Title | Yesterday's News |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | After a long night of trying to clear up problems, Kristen goes to find— the tapes. |
| Date | February 26, 2011 |
Dorchester Towers — Smoov's Apartment
My baby don't mess around because she loves me so and this I know for sure…
It's a new phone. Smoov threw his last one and broke it. A new phone a new ring tone. But it's the same old shit. The phone is in on Smoov's dresser. And would probably wake Smoov up. If he were in the bedroom. Smoov is not in the bedroom. Who knows what happened, but the apartment is somewhat scattered. The blanket from the bed is laying in the doorway of the bedroom. A sheet trailing from it like a treasure trail leading away from the bedroom.
The kitchen is a mess, there weren't a whole lot more drinks made. But apparently someone was doing something in the kitchen that required pushing a lot of things onto the ground. And apparently at one point someone decided they needed toast. Because two burnt pieces of bread protrude from the toaster. Which is on the ground. The phone starts to ring again.
My baby don't mess around because she loves me so and this I know for sure…
But there's no one in the kitchen. There is a trail of a few scattered items trailing to the living room. The cushions on the couch have been removed. And are scattered on the ground with one actually on the couch. But it's on top of Smoov. With his head face down in the couch and pants around his ankles the man seems to be sleeping quite soundly.
Hortense will however find herself waking on top of the coffee table. Which is broken now. Thanks a lot. It's not as early as she would have hoped to leave, but things may have ran longer than expected. The knock at the door is what finally brings her to her senses.
My baby don't mess around because she loves me so and this I know for sure…
The door is knocked on again. Smoov is out cold.
"Someone turn off the phone" Moaned, the back of her palm resting against her eyes as she surfaces from the depths of whatever slumber it was that she was having. It's too early - not really - and there is broken furniture beneath her and she vaguely has a memory of something that belonged in the pages of the Kama Sutra that she swore to Kojo that she could do. Cross your heart, hope to die, yes my legs do bend that way.
When it seems like phones will keep ringing and doors will keep being knocked on. She's rolling over, off the table, ass coming into contact with the floor and quickly upright. The pounding of a full fledged hangover seeps around her brain and causing her to blink a lot in the light of day. Nope, she didn't wake up when she wanted to and doesn't look like she'll get out of the condo soon enough either. She needs to track down where her clothes are.
But first, the cellphone, which she finds, silences with the push of a button that means it's not answered but shut off. Then the door.
The door.
She doesn't even peer through the peephole, just undoes the locks and swings it open so she can peer bleary eye'd out to whomever's on the other side. Which means the other person is presented with the sight of Hortense. Mussy haired, smell of sex, lipstick smeared beyond it's natural boundaries and the promise of a matching imprint on whomever helped with the smearing. Smoov's shirt covers her just enough that she's not flashing the other person. "Can I help you?"
Unlike the woman answering the door, Kristen looks impeccable. Almost as if she spent the last twelve hours in restful beauty sleep instead of fixing the problems with the world… or just the company that she runs. She's covered in a long coat, tan London Fog, with a colorful silk scarf wrapped around her throat, and knee high stiletto boots. If warm brown eyes could ever fix anyone with a cool stare, this is what is leveled at Hortense.
"No, I don't think you can." Is the lilting, almost musical, answer the woman receives before Kristen pushes past her and stalks into the apartment. Again, the kitchen is a mess. Maybe it's a pattern for Kojo when he invites women around. Who knows. At least it's not her phone in the blender. "I'm looking for Clarke."
Ah ha ha~~ she finds him. With his pants down around his ankles, what a way to wake up to the world. Turning to give a casual glance to the near nude woman, K gives her a pleasant smile as her hands tuck into her pockets. "I think you might want to get dressed." It's the sort of suggestion one would receive if they've been caught sleeping with someone else's— son. "You have one minute."
Oh god, wait a minute. Hortense doesn't stop Kristen, call it… female intuition. That and the attitude. Hortense sinks some fingers into her hair, pulling a gummy bear out - WTF was a gummy bear doing in there, she doesn't remember eating those - and closes the door behind Kristen.
"Are you… Please tell me you are not his girlfriend and I just became a home wrecker, because… if so…." She doesn't run off like some half scared bimbo. She comes to the livingroom where 'clarke' is passed out, looking down at him.
"I'll castrate him. I know my anatomy, it's not that hard"
"You can call me yesterday's news," Kristen muses as she looks down at the Jamaican man sleeping peacefully on the sofa. "Or something like that." Turning toward Hortense, Kristen's lips curl into something of a cool and deteached smile as she pulls one hand out of her pocket. It's stretches out to the other woman and is offered for a polite shake. "I'll just call you— …?" If there was something on the tip of her tongue, the producer doesn't let it loose.
"Kristen Reynolds," Hortense might remember the other woman's face as one of the ones up on the VIP balcony with the others the previous night. "It's— " pause "— to meet you." She'll fill in that middle bit later, after she's passed judgment on the gummy gummy girl.
Whether or not Hortense actually takes the hand for a shake, it's quickly tucked back into K's pocket before she pivots back toward Smoov and issues a sharp, "Kojo."
"Hortense. Last nights news, nice to meet you too" It seems, and she shakes the other womans hand but she's lacking a smile. More a scowl, but it's for Smoov who is now the focus of two womens attention, though in various states of dress. "I know pressure points" She oh so kindly points out, murmuring to Kristen about where the woman will need to apply a bit of pressure on his foot to make him wake up, and maybe limp for a few minutes. "I'm going to dig up my skirt." Find a hairbrush. Soap and water. So she's not looking like she's doing the walk of realy bad shame.
Smoov brings one hand up to press to his forehead gently. Ugghh. His eyes crack open as his head rolls to the side. They peel open before he's finally looking up. Wait. What. Two women he has slept with. Standing over him. Together. He rolls some to the side, rubbing his hand against his face. This could either be really good or really bad. From the tone Hortense is using? It might be bad but… What did he do?
Smoov pushes up with a light grunt.
Going to sit up fully, the man looks down. He is bare save for the pants around his ankles. Standing up, Smoov doesn't seem to have any shame, baring himself for the world or at least his apartment to see. He pauses for a moment trying to look at Kristen through his headache. Only then does he bend and scoop up his pants. Fastening them, he goes to rub his forehead a bit more. "G'mornin' sweet'eart."
A quick glance is passed to the side to rake in more of Hortense and a tight smile is given, "You do that." Kristen's brown eyes drift back down to Kojo and one eyebrow rises into a sharp peak on her forehead. "Which one of us are you talking to?" Because she's honestly not sure. It could be considered kind if he was talking to either of them, but not both.
Her hands stay in her pockets, her coat stays on. "I came to ask for last night's tapes…" A lie but it's such a good one that he might not catch on. "I figured I would get your okay before going to Tic." It's awkward, looming over him the way she is, and in response to her own discomfort, she takes a few steps back.
"It looks like you had a successful night."
Shit.
SHIT
He's not married, she knows that. But he was dating that woman, that… that name is familiar. Hortense nods her head to Kristen, dirty look sent Smoov's way before she's padding down the hall, wishing for a little hair of the dog. Bad enough she married one, but now she's unintentionally become the thing that she hates. Accessory to cheating.
Into the bedroom, a quick look locates undergarments, skirt, and a mental decision to keep on the shirt that she has right now instead of hunt for her other one. Maybe she can sell this on ebay for money.
"You."
Smoov frowns lightly as she delivers the reason for her visit. He tilts his head some at her looking a little disappointed. "Oh. Arright. Well I don't have em. Ah. Whatyou want em for?" Smoov frowns as Hortense gives him acid look then walks away. "Why's she mad?" He asks of Kristen, folding his arms over his bare chest.
Looking back to Kristen he tilts his head to the side. "What about you? You have a good night with Mister Russo?" He makes no effort to hide the jealousy in his voice. Smoov glances back after Hortense then back to Kristen.
"I want to make copies before the police take them as evidence. I want to review what went on so I can prepare an official statement. There's a few reasons but those two are the biggest ones." Hortense is treated to Kristen's profile as she glances over her shoulder to watch the Jersey girl scoop up whatever clothing she can find. One side of her mouth lifts in a smirk that can only be taken as smug or self important but it drops quickly enough when she focuses on the musician again.
The implied heh when happens with a huff of air from through her nose and the rearing back of her head. "My night, consisted of telephone calls, dealing with security and the police, and for a few minutes pulling glass out of Brad's hand." Her jaw tightens as she clenches her teeth together, stopping before making the grave mistake of showing her own feelings. Toward either Smoov or Russo.
Smoov watches Kristen for a long moment before glancing to the bedroom. "Stay." He lets out. "I'll make us breakfast. If she wants to stay I'll make her some too.." He gives a little shrug. "But I would really like you to eat with me." If he can keep food down, it will be a miracle. Kojo takes a few steps forward towards Kristen.
He looks down at her then over to the kitchen. "Please?" He asks quietly. "We both know you didn't come here to just get tapes." Smoov tries to smooth over, offering her a charming smile.
"I think the police are looking for her. She's a witness to a double homicide, isn't she?" At least that's what the woman claimed the previous night. Looking over her shoulder again toward the bedroom, Kristen stays silent until Hortense returns. Standing less than a foot away from Kojo, she can smell the other woman on him. Jersey girls, they carry a smell all of their own. To ask the producer right now, the answer to what might be trash~ but in a day or two she'd probably be kinder.
It's a discussion for another time.
"Maybe." Not maybe will she stay, maybe she didn't just come for tapes. Lowering her head to stare at the floor to the side of them, Kristen doesn't meet Kojo's eyes or look at that charming smile. They both know it would probably convince her to at least be a little less frigid, if not nice to both the former star and the other woman.
"They already talked to me, the other day, when I saw him jellify a cop by touching. I'll probably get a call later" Hortense has appeared, stiletto's in hand, looking mostly presentable and thanks to stuff in her purse, not smelling like what's all over Smoov anymore but more like jasmine and vanilla. Hair back in a messy bun, she's glancing between the two, then heading for the door. "Don't call me asshole" Don't show up at my boat, and I will sell your shirt on e-bay. "Nice to meet you Miss Renyolds" And she means it, having figured out who the woman is and hoping that the woman didn't think too ill of her. "Use a spoon, it'll hurt him more" A hop, she's getting one shoe on, then leaning against the wall to put on the other.
Smoov holds up a hand. "Wait a minute." Smoov's brows crease some. "What's all this? Kristen aint me girlfriend." Kojo holds up his hands, palm out to show the universal symbol of innocence. "I aint done notin' wrong. Why ya gone on like this?" Smoov looks from Kristen back to Hortense. His features sort of deflated in a 'halp' sort of way. He peers critically at the woman.
Taking a step back he goes to scrub his face. "I'm sorry I offended you then." The man lets out, lips quirking into a sort of frown before looking back to Kristen. "Come on then, I'll make you breakfast."
A sideward slide of her eyes to Smoov has Kristen raising her chin in a haughty manner and speaking up. "He's right, I'm not his girlfriend." Hopefully that will ease the tension a little bit where the other woman is concerned. "I'm his boss."
Angling an easy smile up to Kojo, she takes another step backward and pivots on her heel. "You said breakfast, if that's the case then I'd better go change." Underneath the coat isn't revealed but with the tone, Hortense might be led to believe that she's in something professional that she doesn't want to risk spilling on. Kojo might be led to a different conclusion based on the side glance she delivers right afterward.
"wait a minute" Hortense looks over her shoulder, kneeling slightly in order to put on the second shoe, leg up and about to slide home.
"You're not his girlfriend?" She's not his girlfriend which means there's egg on Hortense's face. Smoov isn't some two time jackass. The scowl is no longer directed to Smoov, but to Kristen. "You hussy"
Thunk goes her newly shod foot, straightening up. It sounds like she wanted to say bitch but refrained. She moves back towards the kitchen and to Kristen, her height rivaling that of Smoov's now and towering over the other woman by a few inches instead of even.
"You said you were his girlfriend and here I thought that I was some home wrecking slut. No better than my ex-husband" Well no, she'd have to have done a lot more sleeping around than a one night stand with Smoov to even get close. She turns to Smoov, tilting her head. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been mad at you. You're not the one at fault here, I take it all back."
Smoov starts to smile as Hortense realizes her mistake. But then. What. Why is there so much hatred in his apartment. He brings his hands up again, giving Kristen an apologetic look. "No, darling. Please. There's no need for name calling. K is my boss. And she is very important to me. There's no reason to be angry wit' 'er." Smoov waves his hands in order to get Hortense to calm down.
Then Kristen is on her way towards the door, before looking at him with that look. Woah woah woah. Smoov takes a step forward, hand going to catch Kristen's wrist. "Wait a minute, sweet'eart. We need to…" Something. He glances over to Hortense. "Beautiful, I apologize for this. But if you wouldn't mind, I would like to speak with my boss. I'll give you a call?" Next time his bed is empty. Probably.
"Yeah. Call. Whenever" She's highly doubting that she'll get a call. Hortense grabs her coat then, letting Smoov tend to his manager and have one less woman to worry about. "Thanks for the night" Most of it she remembers. And then she's gone, skimming around Kristen, gone out the door, walk of shame for a cab and eventually to her boat. A few hours of rest before she has to see a client.
"No, no… I don't think I ever claimed to be his girlfriend. You made that brilliant deduction all on your own." Kristen's silky delivery is made with a slick smile that meant to be reassuring to the other woman, even in the face of being called a— hussy? Who says that anymore? There's no visible bristling but Smoov can likely feel the tensing of the muscles in her arm from the grip on her wrist.
Watching the other woman leave, she turns to face Clarke and shakes her head, her free hand going over the one on her wrist. "Sorry Kojo, I don't like second place." Probably as much as he doesn't like it, judging from the jealousy in his voice when he asked about the Advocate host. "And I can still smell her on you."
"I didn't do nothin' wrong." Smoov declares cleanly. He gives Hortense a little wave before looking back to Kristen when the door closes. He pulls on Kristen's wrist some. "I didn't do nothin' wrong. If you came here to give me a gift…" His eyes dip down to the trench coat. "I 'aven't done anything to forfeit my claim on this gift." He frowns lightly. "You can breathe through your mouth." His free hand comes up to brush lightly against her cheek, gently pushing her face upwards to face him. Trying to get eye contact to smile gently at her.
"You're right, you didn't do anything wrong." Her agreement is much too easy, much too quick in its delivery to be taken as a simple resignation to the fact that he's right. He didn't do anything wrong. Tilting her head up to meet the smile and even to garner eye contact with the former celebrity, Kristen's free hand gently attempts the removal of Kojo's on her wrist. "I came to get the tapes."
It's the story she's sticking to, having been wrenched apart enough in the past twenty four hours.
Emotionless but not yet cold, she gives him a light smile in return and quickly lets it drop. "I have work to do, have Tic meet me with the tapes? So we can get copies before they're taken as evidence?" She insisted on as much red tape as possible before the authorities could get their hands on them. Hopefully she stalled for enough time, she was banking on someone else being smart enough to make the copies before having to say anything but… if you want anything done right—
"Kristen." Smoov starts quietly. "Please. Go sit." Where is a good place to sit? He's not sure. "Let me take a shower, let me make you breakfast. Take this off." His free hand going to tug at the trench coat lightly. "Tic thinks about stuff like that. He's already made doubles, triples. He'll handle it all." Smoov quickly explains. "But I am your star. And I am feeling a bit frazzled about being assaulted by a murderer last night. I need my boss to console me. Tic will handle that business. I need you to handle me." Smoov arches one brow high, his hand pulling on her wrist deeper into his apartment. "So come take a seat…"
What Smoov's hand comes upon when it hits the trenchcoat is the feel of metal. That's when Kristen steps back. "I'll take it off, when I'm ready." It's really all she has to say about the entire matter. From the graze on the outside of the coat, he already knows what's underneath. The cool as cucumber expression on her face lets him know that she's not ready to let him unwrap that particular gift. Not right now.
"Alleged murderer, I'm having someone look into it." As far as she knows for sure? It was some woman looking to grab the spotlight and maybe a little something else. Both of which she got. "Go shower, then you can make breakfast."
Smoov brings up one hand to smooth back his intricately designed corn rows. A light smirk is given as he takes a few steps back. Turning some, he motions for her to take a seat. "If you're not here when I get back I'm going to have a psychotic break and ruin your show!" He yells out. The door is closed and the sound of running water is heard soon.
The door creaks open for a moment so that Smoov can peek out to make sure Kristen hasn't left.
She hasn't left, or sat down. Kristen is standing exactly where Smoov left her in the middle of the apartment, staring at the mess from last night. Reaching into her pocket, she grabs her cell phone and begins scrolling through a few different listings before picking one and dialing.
"Dirk. It's K." Pause. "No, I don't care that it's the middle of the morning and— Really Dirk. You're not irreplaceable." It's the first time she's ever used that particular phrase on her beloved executive assistant. "No I didn't mean it, listen, I need you to start looking for possibilities. Russo gave his notice last night."
What the producer didn't notice is that the door to the bathroom is open.
Peering through the crack, Smoov practically leans out of the doorway to listen. Bwuuh? He leans back away from the door after he overhears the news. Turning his back some he leans against the wall. His head is tipped back. Eyes on the ceiling. The steam fills up the room. Thoughts buzz around his head like a plague. One hand sets on the counter as he bites down on his lower lip. Russo gone. The implications of this are many. The opportunities of this are many…
He looks down at the running water, going to unfasten his pants to shower. Once in the warm water splashes over his head, eyes closing against the force of the water.
He smiles.
