Chapter 9: 9. Nefarious Business

Shiro

For the first time in months, my eyes fly open in the morning instead of sticking together, unwilling to face the broken pieces of my reality. Tawny sunlight is streaming into the room, washing the walls with golden hues, and for a minute, I’m replaying the events of yesterday in my mind. Even when I roll out of bed, excitement fizzes in my chest as I go through my morning routine, shaving and styling my hair carefully. Now that I’ve been discharged, I don’t have to keep it buzzed short, and the fringe is getting long, but I like it this way, even if Adam complained about it making me look sloppy. 

Well, Adam is no longer controlling my every move, and the Navy washed their hands clean off me, so I’m free to do as I please, both with my hair and my life. I wander into the kitchen, turn on the percolator, and raid Colleen’s supplies to prepare breakfast. Despite the early hour, Sam and Colleen have gone to work already, and Katie’s probably off attending one of her endless classes, meaning I have free rein of the house. Coffee in hand and a steaming bowl of porridge waiting, I dig in when my phone chimes.

Keith: Hey, Shiro. Sorry if I’m overstepping, but maybe you could use this. You mentioned being in over your head yesterday.

A link is embedded in the message. After I click on it, it directs me to a website so simple it must have cost a small fortune. It belongs to a fancy LA law firm specializing in entertainment law.

Me: Good morning, Keith

Should I add I’m glad to hear from him again? No, that’s pathetic, isn’t it? Ignoring the way my heart thumps against my sternum, I continue messaging.

Me: Pretty sure I never mentioned being overwhelmed, but you’re right. I could use help with the contract. These guys seem above my price range, but thanks for thinking of me.

Keith: Don’t worry about it.

Me: Not sure what impression I gave you, but I’m not a charity case.

Keith: Not what I meant. They owe me a favor, and I know how tough it is to break into the business. We all need a hand sometimes.

Me: I’m not sure I can repay you, though.

Keith: Nobody’s asking you to. Just help me make Voltron the best damn show since Gone.

Me: I’ll do my best. Thanks again.

Keith: No problem.

This seems like a natural stopping point, and I should probably finish my breakfast and get on with my schedule, which now includes contacting a posh law firm, but reluctance swamps me as my fingers hover over the phone, ready to lock the screen. I’m hesitant to end our conversation, but I also don’t want to appear as a stage-five clinger. Keith solves my conundrum by shooting me another message. I scoop up some porridge and at least pretend to eat as my eyes soak up the exchange.

Keith: I’m a little surprised you’re up this early.

Me: Can take the man out of the Navy… 

Keith: Got it.

Me: Maybe it’s prejudice, but I thought actors were the ones sleeping till noon.

Keith: Hate to burst your bubble, Mister Navy, but shooting starts real early, so actors are usually up at the ass crack of dawn.

Keith: Such a weird phrase. What does it even mean? 

A little chuckle wiggles past my lips. This is miles away from the detached guy from my audition. It’s as though his icy armor has shattered, and now we’re just two friends, talking and exchanging jokes. 

Me: Probably that it’s a thing a decent person shouldn’t be looking at.

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Keith: :) Good thing I’m not decent, then. What about you?

Me: Asking if I’m decent? Or if I’m up at dawn?

Keith: Why not both? 

Me: You’ll have to wait and find out once we work together ;)

Keith: Mmm, I can see the headlines. Breaking news: Takashi Shirogane awake at five am. What nefarious business is he up to? How much do you think the media will pay for that scoop?

A giggle bursts out of me. Thank the universe I’m alone, and no one hears it.

Me: I don’t know what the going rates are, but please don’t sell this riveting information cheap. For both our sakes. I’ll want a share, you know. 

Keith: I’ll keep it in mind. ;)

Keith: Sorry, gotta run. This was a fun way to spend time waiting for my scene, though. Thanks, Shiro.

Me: You’re welcome, but I should thank you. You gave me a whole new insight into the acting profession, which is cool, considering it’s going to be my job for the next several months.

Keith: Happy to help. One last thing, Ben wanted me to ask you to shoot a short Q and A thing with me, possibly the other guys. And gals.

Me: Sure, no problem.

Keith: Great! I’ll email you the details. 

Me: Please do. Looking forward to seeing you again.

I send the message without thinking. Crap. Was it too much? Just common politeness, right? 

The three dancing dots appear and disappear a couple of times, and heat crawls up from my chest into my cheeks. For a moment, I forgot Keith was just a coworker, a man I’d barely met, not my friend or anyone I should be getting in any way flirty. Not even the teensiest bit. A coincidence brought us together, but that doesn’t change the fact we’re worlds apart. 

But then my phone chirps again, and my stomach flips when I read Keith’s message.

Keith: I’m looking forward to seeing you too.

Both the porridge and coffee went cold during our chat, so I finish the breakfast as fast as possible, ignoring the taste. Keith’s surprisingly funny and snarky compared to the stand-offish person I glimpsed at the auditions. Curiosity pricks at me. Is it too stalkery to google my future coworker? He is a public person, though, isn’t he? Determined, I punch his name into the search bar and follow down the rabbit hole to his IMDB profile, which mentions he started acting at fourteen and since then amassed an impressive career, the role in Weird Matters being his crowning achievement so far. I notice there’s no mention of any spouse or even a significant relationship. Why should that catch my attention, though?

Shaking my head, I move on to the interviews on YouTube. There is a lot. Huh. Lance mentioned Keith was famous, but it’s one thing to hear it from Lance and another to witness it myself. Interviews from the red carpet. Appearances on late-night shows. Comic-Con panels. And so on. At random, I click on one, a famous talk show where Keith trades an easy back-and-forth with the host. Gorgeous. Charming. Much smoother than during our text exchange, which I’m feeling increasingly awkward about in retrospect. 

What was I thinking, joking around with him like he was one of our merry band of misfits? My head hits the desk, and I let out a groan. Keith probably thinks I’m an idiot. Well, that’s one way to impress your superstar colleague.

Well, no way to change that now, anyway, so I’d better start dealing with the tasks ahead. I load the dishwasher and reach for my phone to make the first step toward my new career. 

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