Page 75 of Orion Ruined

“Yes, I won’t be long.”

He shrugs. “It’s your money.”

“Thank you.”

I’m enjoying being a backseat passenger in New York, watching people running around like headless chickens, missing their lives altogether. But as we drive, the sights go from lively and colorful to gray, derelict, and abandoned.

In a short while, we drive around a very tall building, and stop at a neon sign that’s flashing pink Crew Entrance, with a black door underneath.

“This is it?” My eyes are fixed on the view through the car window. This place reeks of mafia and murder.

“Yes.”

“Thank you. Um, you’ll wait for me, yes?” I plead as I open the door halfway.

He must know I’m doing something I shouldn’t. “I’ll be here.”

I exit the car and stand in front of the door. With a deep breath in and out, I knock. Loud. Confident. I’ll be ten minutes. In and out. No longer.

A big, square-shouldered guy unlocks the door from inside and peeks through the narrow opening. He checks me out from top to bottom as I gather the strength to speak.

My voice cracks. “Hi, I’m here–”

“Get in,” he orders, and opens the door wider. “Go straight down there and take the first door on the right. Someone’ll come get you.”

“S-sure.”

As I walk along the long, dark hallway, the dim red light makes me feel like I’m in a horror movie. I wonder if this was a mistake. Nobody knows where I am, and that’s how people disappear.

When I find the first door on the right, I reach for the handle with a sweaty palm, my heart pounding in my throat.

A bright, empty room greets my terrified eyes. What a difference. On three sides are glass walls through which I see stairs, offices, and possibly boardrooms beyond. Everything looks clean and corporate. I’m shocked. I was expecting a seedy little studio where they shoot adult films.

Now all I need to do is find the videographer, that’s all. I know that once he sees me, he’ll remember Rosey. That’s all I want at this stage. Proof that she’s still around. Then I’ll head back to Orion’s and tell them where to look. That’s all.

The door behind me opens and a fat old man with a beard enters. “I was told you’re here. Let me see you.” He grabs my arm and turns me around.

“Excuse me? I–”

“We’ll call you in five. Be ready.”

And just like that, he leaves. Who can I talk to in here who’ll actually stop and listen to what I have to say? The office space is full of people working, and nobody’s batting an eyelid over me being here.

A young woman in panties and stilettos walks in. Her boobs are big and jiggle as she moves. “It’s your turn, cutie. With a rack like that you may get a permanent gig on set.”

“My turn for what?”

The seedy old guy pokes his head through the door. “Come on, I don’t have all day!” He disappears again.

The woman next to me is giving me advice. “If this is your first time, don’t worry. Just think of something you like and it’ll be over in a half hour.”

I frown at what she’s insinuating, and run out to follow the old man to get an explanation.

When I reach him, he stops and points at my feet. “These sneakers, can we change them?”

“No, I like them,” I protest.

“Fine. You’ll lose all your clothes in the first ten minutes anyway,” he mutters.

---