Ebtissam had just finished her administrative work for the day when she paused to consider the next steps. This was the second week of her running the sewing department as an independent from West Meet East International, and in all irony, a week which would find Heylyn away on a trip south of the border.
Her responsibilities hadn't changed so much, more so having solified into a streamlined method of running Sew Wonderful as an independent for the first time. Valerie had hired an accountant to go over the books and begin a new ledger system to handle the new business, while Ebtissam assembled reports representing their needs as an independent, and the needs of their employees with regard to the integration of their inventory system into that of West Meet East. Both systems now operated on different books, and that required an extensive modification of West Meet East's integrated inventory management system. A task that was still ongoing at that point.
When Ebtissam had enough of working administration, she got up from her cozy office chair and stepped out into the sewing room. She then walked over to the pile of cardboard boxes and began collapsing them one at a time. She always found the dichotomy of working with intense concentration on administrative tasks, and the simplicity of doing something so simple as breaking down boxes as a means of effective stress management. Administrative seldom offered immediate gratification for the completion of a task, because most tasks often took days or even weeks. Therefore, doing the boxes was a quick relief. Easily done. Immediate gratification. Something that Braden had taught her, though he called it his hidden zen moment. When nothing was going well, he'd just tackle a whole pile of easy tasks that needed doing, and benefit from the sense of completion arrived at by as such.
Ebtissam placed the cardboard box in front of her, using a utility knife to cut the tape on either end, and then proceeded to fold it into a flat manageable slice which she placed atop of an already existing pile. She then moved to the next one, and started doing the same when Adelina addressed her from one of the sewing stations in the sewing room at West Meet East International.
"Why don't you let the intern do that? I mean, that's what she's here for, isn't it?" asked Adelina of Ebtissam.
Ebtissam held her response as she finished the last box for the stack.
"No. She's here to learn the craft of her trade. So she'll work sewing with the rest of you, while you teach her, and on Monday, when we start our cycle all over again, she'll do inventory and cleanup, and have the rest of next week from there on the machines as well," Ebtissam responded, organizing the stack and then dusting her hands off.
"Besides, its a nice break from management you know. I enjoy it very much sometimes," she said ever so humbly.
"Alright. I was only thinking about your interests and time management you know," Adelina was keen on advancing, and Ebtissam knew it.
Out of the three women vying for the job of Supervising Seamstress, Adelina was the most aggressive about her pursuit of the position. Whenever Ebtissam thought of the role, Adelina wanted never to be overlooked, and therefore spent most of her time being vocal about her tasks and pursuits. Asserting her claim as the best candidate for the job.
There were others too, and they often used sly means to compete against one another, just as on this occasion Dasha took advantage of the fact that Adelina most often liked to have the news playing in the background on the big screen television which faced their backs, so as not to distract them visually, but to keep them up to date aurally. Dasha grabbed the remote from one of the other desks and turned the televison up, to the channel Adelina most often watched, and the bold voice of the news anchor broke the rhythmic hum of the industrial sewing machines.
"...Israel says that HAMAS conducted the rocket attacks, timing them to coincide with the recent detonation of what officials have called a non-conventional warhead over the Red Sea, whose death toll when combined with the rocket attacks are estimated at nearly fifty people. Twenty-seven of them listed as missing since the detonation of the large yield device... ...If this progresses as it does, it could trigger a war uniting Muslims against the..." Gretel quickly grabbed the remote and hit the mute button, easing tensions in the workplace significantly.
Rather than smirking at either of her other two competitors for the job, she merely returned to her work, trying not to think about the rising tensions, but empathizing how difficult it must have been for Ebtissam, who was now a business partner with West Meet East International, to both run their sewing department service bureau Sew Wonderful, while the rest of the world was busy polarizing us to the ends of war.
Ebtissam looked off into the distance as she found the end of the twine with which she began to bundle the flattened empty boxes, apparently not having noticed the broadcast, or Gretel's bid in the interests of peace. She instead tied the boxes together into manageable stacks, and when she was finished, she grabbed one and stepped through the big doors into the shipping and receiving area.
"Well look who it is! What can I do ya for Ebtissam?" Braden smiled at her, as he spun in his chair, a nearby radio playing musical sets of his favourite alternative from 102.1 The Edge.
"I'm just taking my Friday easy. Its been a long week, especially adjusting to our new status as a partner business of West Meet East. And how are you today? Did you get a chance last night to try that shwarma place I recommended?" she asked him.
"Ordered a big meal for Aikiko, Gregory and I. Falafels, Taboulli, Shwarma, Dolmades, the whole deal and I have to tell you that it was awesome. So are you coming out with us tonight? Its the night of the big show!" Braden reminded her.
"I'm still up in the air on that. Its been a very busy week, but I might be able to swing it," Ebtissam smiled at him as he hit the button for the door.
One of the shipping doors suddenly came to life, opening as the Friday afternoon sunshine streamed in, revealing a machine operated recycling bin loader, into which she placed the box and pressed the button, crushing the box into the innards of the bin, along with all of the other paper and cardboard refuse they produced at West Meet East.
Ebtissam had been the one to suggest the purchase and to go private with the cardboard, selling it as a resource to other recyclers. The machine itself had cost about three thousand, while the refuse brought in an extra seven hundred a month for them. In half a year, the machine and bin had paid for themselves, and at the same time, given Valerie and Heylyn the idea that Ebtissam might be better at running the sewing department as its own business. That way, they could sell their sewing services to their competitors, hence making money with West Meet East's fashion, and their competitors' fashions too. However, they might have never realized this until Ebtissam took the initiative with the machine operated recycling bin.
"...and that was
Billy Talent from
102 point 1 the Edge. You know, we might be seeing the beginning of World War three. Both NATO and the United Nations Security Council have called emergency meetings in the wake of last week's detonation of a non-conventional weapon. The first since 1945... Now tell me honestly, is any weapon conventional? I mean, what good do they do? I'm sorry to all our soldiers out there, but if someone attacks you with a bayonette, and someone else attacks you with a gun, does that make the bayonette conventional? Don't get us started here... anyway, we have a pair of tickets up for grabs to the Roger's Center for tonight's broadcast of the appearance of Toronto Fashion Designer Heylyn Yates on Jimmy Fallon's Evening edition. The tickets will allow you entry to the bar, and a night of drinks on the house and is certainly the golden prize for any of our homegrown fans of the Fashion superstar. Give a call at 1-800-THE-EDGE and we'll give the tickets to the third caller. Maybe we can stop world war three with a bit of Canadian partying...! And now here's the Beaches on The Edge, 102 point 1..." the DJ broke the through the sound of the recycling motor as Ebtissam recalled a time twenty four years earlier.
Ebtissam was in an airport, her hand in that of her mother. Her sister's hand in her's as the three of them pushed their way through a crowd, trying to make their way to one of the airline's check-in lines to find out what the delays were about, and why the crowd seemed so hostile towards them.
Up ahead, in the terminal, the crowd had split into two separate factions. One side were a group of mostly women, clad in the hijab headdress common of Muslim women, most of them wearing black, while some men stood defensively in front of them in white.
Another group on the other side of the same terminal was headed by those appearing to be Rabbis and their students, standing in front of a variety of families, presumably Jewish, they too standing protectively of their women and children as their front lines shouted slanderous things at the other side.
Her mother dragged her and her sister, and Ebtissam clung for dear life to both, fighting the urge to cease up and fall on the floor and cry. They were frightened, for they could not fathom why so many people could suddenly hate them so much.
Out of the corner of her eyes, she caught sight of an LED based news screen, where a tall building seemed to explode into fire as a jet collided with it. The image replayed over and over again, as warnings flashed along the bottom of the screen.
Ebtissam's mother pulled her daughters to safety admidst their Muslim brothers and sisters, keeping her children behind her. Ebtissam watched as the men from either side screamed at each other, carefully protecting their own as other travellers in the airport converged upon the two groups, threatening a massacre of them all.
When all was about to explode, Ebtissam caught sight of another family across the way. Their mother too hanging onto her two daughters, and her eyes met with the eldest, a girl not much older than her. She too held the hand of her sister, and in that moment, they became empathetic friends who'd never met, but had in that moment understood each other better than any of these people ever could.
When the fighting began, and some of the travellers in the airport had decided to take out their frustrations on the Muslims, their group backed into a corner and the men stood protectively, taking their beatings for crimes they did not commit. Many of them having dedicated themselves to bettering the world while not seeking the recognition for it. They never once cried out in pain. They only protected what mattered most to them, as much so as the Jewish side did the same.
Ebtissam's friend across the way cried for her, and the other girl too cried for her secret friend.
...
From a distance and unbeknownst to either girl, a photographer named Derek Keen had them both perfectly in frame, the Omans in front of the Muslim women and children, and the Rabbis in front of the Jewish women and children as they all screamed at each other. In the background between the two groups, the giant LED infoscreen played a live image of the first tower on fire, plumes of smoke blackening the New York skyline. The photographer pressed the shutter button, and captured one of the most iconic images in that time period. The very photograph that would become the defining moment in his career as a professional photographer.
When he'd finally previewed it on his laptop in a hotel room in Seattle two days later, where his flight had been held over as had all air traffic the entire world over, he couldn't believe his eyes. He went about making a few phone calls, first to his lawyer, to whom he sent a copy to ensure its protection. He then followed that call with one to Gratham, a professional media consultant, who specialized in the licensing of images to the various news and media giants, such as Reuters, Bloomberg and the Associated Press.
When Gratham saw the image, he knew it would be worth millions, and that many careers would be made on its basis. Entire industries would crop up on the success of the image's use, while others under the scrutiny of the sweeping changes to security around the world would fall.
"Dammit Gratham! I just want to get this out there! This is important! People need to see this. To step back a moment... the world is on the brink...!" Derek explained to Gratham, who cupped his hand over the phone as he flagged a couple of his colleagues over to his desk.
"You see this? This is going to put us on the map in a big way! This is it buddy. This is the big ticket! This is a once in a lifetime shot! This is a magazine cover that will make it into the history books!" Graham said to two of his peers at the same company, giving each of them a high five, as Derek continued pleading his morale case to Gratham's other hand.
On the other side of a country in mourning, workers at ground zero had just begun evaluating the safety of the wreckage while searching for the living and the dead.
...
For Oculo Mentis and Habus Macill, the disaster had been a windfall. The doors to their recently born ideology opened as people flooded into their membership, unknowing of what they had become a part. Soon thereafter, it would begin spreading faster than any other ideology in the history of humankind and perhaps the first biomagnetic collective that had surpassed the population of any one single country in the same year, and unbeknownst to the secretive protectors of innocence by way of the Temple of the Butterfly Dragon.
Those who didn't join Mentis were forced. Those who resisted were erased, cast off to a social pergatory or limbo for those who showed no allegiance to anyone but themselves. They were initially labeled as self-serving types or SSTs, and a means of profiling them emerged from within their ideology, much as had occurred many times in history before where the madness of superstition took over and the rationality of science took a back seat, much as
Spinoza had predicted centuries earlier.
Mentis' members initially used the medical records of citizens to determine whether they were a candidate for being one of these SSTs. A judgement that was dependent upon their blood type, along with several other key features related to their physical qualities, not unlike those who used to believe that the intelligence of a person could be measured by the size of their cranium.
Secretly, more and more of these people were separated from the rest of society and trapped in what would amount to being community prisons. Trapped in their own living space and prevented from taking part in society, lest of course they joined Mentis' ranks, accepting Mentis as their saviour and denouncing the laws of society while embracing those of Mentis.
Derek much like Mentis, had recognized that point in history as being one of the most important junctions for humanity. Mentis capitalized on it. Gratham tried to get rich from it. Derek tried to his best to urge the world to take a step back and stop before it plunged into the abyss.
Those that didn't join Mentis, disappeared and every trace of their social and official record was slowly eradicated while they were digested by means of social cannabilism in their respective communities, one by one. Often, even online means of identification were eradicated and used to deny Mentis' victims of their own identity and online property, while others of Mentis' membership would wear it as their own, especially if it were beneficial to them, or if it altered their narrative to their benefit. This was often coordinated between their victims' phone provider, and online accounts whose companies were compromised by employees whose true allegiances were to Mentis.
As their victims's resources dwindled as a result of such eradication, the task became easier over time as they struggled with even modest bill payments and other utilities, which even further whittled away at their social footprint. Because members of Mentis were forbade from ever mentioning the erased, and because they enforced this policy on others outside of their ideology who defied them by way of stalking and harassment, the erased truly did become as so. Literally ceasing to exist as they one by one died. Poor and decrepit, the better aspects of their former presence now dispersed amongst the populace, who by that time had entirely removed their names from the record.
If such people had multiple emails and online accounts, then each of those accounts would be treated as if they belonged to a distinctly different person, rather than the one person they were erasing. This made it easier for them to transfer the credit for the efforts of the erased to those taking over that identity and history from them. Hence, taking away any means by which a person could prove themselves and their identity was often their first priority target.
Those who exposed the malice of Mentis were often often blamed for manifesting it. Mentis' forces would use a variety of means to give the public the impression that anyone revealing their secrets was actually the one responsible for their crimes. They'd quickly create circumstances to hang the rap for as many of their crimes as they could on such whistleblowers, quickly turning the public against them. When combined with their psyops campaign against their targets, it often led to their target becoming radicalized against the very public they were trying to protect, which sometimes ended in violence and tragedy as Geldon Dekes was scheduled to soon find out.
Mentis' membership grew rapidly, and it was from this straying from their original doctrine that caused Habus Macill to abandon the mind tyrant, and develop his own school in the No-Man's zone between North and South Korea, where once upon a time Warai Jeong-Min Tokama and her protector Braden, began their journey to the Butterfly. The reason for that choice of land had nothing to do with culture, as much so as it had to do with the fact that it was perhaps one of the riskiest places for anyone to be.
Eventually Braden liberated Warai from the school camp facility and fled into South Korea, where Warai was remanded into a child care facility eventually to be adopted by Heylyn Yates.
The world and the stories of its various peoples were interconnected in vast and complex ways, this particular branch of circumstances arisen all spawned from that moment near the same time when Derek had taken the photograph of his life and career.
...
Ebtissam remained the little girl in her daydream, and watched the other little girl behind the Rabbis across from her, and then without warning, she was back in West Meet East International. Braden playing an imaginary set of drums with a pair of empty pens he'd kept for the purpose, and it all made sense to her again.
"I'm just going to finish up with the cardboard so please leave the doors open. Besides, its a nice day, which begs the question, why didn't you go with Heylyn and Warai?" asked Ebtissam of Braden.
"You know, I really did want to go, but then Heylyn brought up that she wanted Kori to come with her, and for me to guard the fort. I am like a Gong Fu, Wing Chun kind of martial artist guy you know," he stood up, purposely mimicking questionable martial arts ability, looking like someone who'd watched far too many martial arts movies rather than a skilled martial artist.
He smiled at her and winked, and she laughed at him.
"Oh please... You definitely spent far too much of your childhood in front of the television..." they both laughed as she left for the next stack of boxes.
When she was gone, Braden hefted a five pound roll of shrink wrap into his hand, throwing it spinning wildly into the air and catching it from behind without even seeing it. He then threw it again into the air spinning, and kicked it, bouncing it off of his toe, then launched himself into a flying cartwheel, and caught the shrink wrap roll once again in one hand as Ebtissam arrived with the next stack of cardboard.
It was his secret moment of fame, though few knew this of him and of his skills in that regard, and of those who did, three of them were in already in a city south of the border as they prepared for their big night. The big show at the Big Apple.
"Well, sometimes its far better to love something you'd like to be, than to be something you're still trying to love," Braden winked at her.
"This is what you call a zen opportunity for growth Braden," Ebtissam took the next stack and piled it into the recycling machine and pressed the button.
"Certainly is. A quick and simple means of achieving the feeling of a sense completion. Any time I'm having a rough one, I just jump on those boxes. Get it all done, and dive right back into the fray. Great for those days when you have an on going project that's taking you days to finish," Braden
"If only the rest of life were that simple..." she said quietly to herself, subtly enjoying her quiet sense of completion.
Preparation
The limousine pulled up in front of the Rockefeller Center and stopped out front of the building, the back passenger door opening while the (Russian) driver got out and gave Heylyn his hand as he helped her out of the seating and onto the New York City sidewalk.
"Thank you," she said to him, turning instinctually to make sure that both Warai and Kori were also similarly attended to.
"Some of us are fighters. Some of us are lovers," he said to her in obvious reference to the war in Europe.
"Sometimes in life it pays to have one foot on each side," Heylyn told him, waiting for him to help Warai out of the limo.
"The paradox of the peaceful warrior. One who fights for peace," he nodded to her, carefully handing Warai's hand to her as he turned his attention to helping Kori out of the limo.
Warai's attention was literally everywhere all at once as she looked on at the wonder of New York city, amazed by the tall buildings that surrounded her, and yet unable to see the rest of the forest through the trees.
"I never thought I'd see this day! Thank you so much..." Kori addressed their driver.
"I'm Sergei. You two should know that I'll be parked out back for the night until you're done, in the shipping and receiving area just outside of catering. After all, one has to eat don't they?" asked Sergei as he twisted his curled mustachio into a perfect point.
"You've got a good point there..." Kori nodded to Sergei.
"Bye Sergei!" Warai waved to the tall man who'd helped her out of the back of the limo.
"He has a really... happy aura... and he had waffles for breakfast this morning and lives in a..." Warai began explaining to Kori and Heylyn what she'd picked up about the man simply by the touch of his hand when helping her out of the car.
"That's enough Warai. Remember what we said about keeping it secret and being discrete..." Heylyn reminded her what Jinn Hua had taught her.
"...it keeps a girl healthy, stealthy and neat!" Warai smiled upon remembering Jinn Hua's saying.
"Then why does Aikiko sometimes be very bold?" asked Warai, recalling that sometimes when someone had pushed her buttons enough, that she became very intimidating.
"Because she lived a very different life than you have so far. She had her trust and innocence taken from her. In a way that has taken her a very long time find again..." Heylyn explained to Warai.
"What is innocence?" asked Warai as they approached the front doors of the Rainbow Room entrance off 6th Avenue.
"...Warai... That's a question that's going to take some time to explain," Kori responded.
"That's a difficult one. Most people don't understand it until they lose it unfortunately. But when that happens, some of them also realize how much it needs protecting in others..." Heylyn explained to Warai and Kori as they one by one stepped through the door.
"But if you don't know what it is, then maybe it doesn't hurt when you lose it?" asked Warai of Heylyn as they emerged into the foyer and made their way over to the elevators.
"Its not like losing your favourite stuffed toy. Its more like losing your ability to trust others or the ability to trust yourself," Heylyn tried to explain it to Warai, but she just wasn't getting it.
"Look Warai! See?!" Kori pointed at the photos on the wall of the elevator as they entered through the doors.
A short time later, they were in the reception area of NBC Studios, where a man with a tablet computer leaned against the reception area desk speaking with the receptionist.
"...and so we tried the Sauteéd Salmon, which was absolutely impeccable. You should tell Murray to take you there..." his voice trailed off as Heylyn arrived at the desk.
"NBC. How may I help you?" the receptionist addressed Heylyn, not recognizing who she was.
"I'm one of Jimmy's guests tonight?" Heylyn responded, as the man with the tablet and clipboard turned to address her.
"You must be Heylyn right?" he asked her.
"Yes, I might be," Heylyn replied to him, putting a smile on his face.
"I'm René. The Production Assistant for the show. Its such a pleasure to meet you," he greeted Heylyn with a light shake of her hand.
"This is my assistant, Kori Jonglyu. She should be on your list, and this is my other assistant Warai," Heylyn introduced them both.
"Ohhhh so you brought a big one aaand a little one," René tweaked Warai's nose, though she kept a somewhat stern and yet curious face.
"This is your daughter? She's adorable! Would you like to get checked into your dressing room first, before we do the tour?" René asked her, looking politely to each of them in turn.
"You're really good with organizing things... aren't you?" Warai said to him, having read him simply by his having touched her nose.
"Oh my gosh... she's sooo sweet. Yes, I am. How on earth did you know that?" René asked Warai.
"!...Its a little game we play where we try to guess each others favourite things to do..." Heylyn jumped in, stepping in front of Warai for both of their protection.
"Yes... it helps to keep little girls healthy, stealthy and neat!" Kori added, trying desperately to remind Warai to be discrete.
"Well if you'll follow me, I'll show you to your dressing room and you can get all cleaned up and settled in. Its just down through this door into the backstage area of the studio and a right this way, and down this hall. Right in this alcove here is where we keep the catering, which is refreshed every half hour with more food and drink, as per your rider..." René explained to them.
"What's a rider?" asked Warai of Helyn and Kori.
"Its a special list that the guests here give to the production, containing all of the things they'd like to be present during their time on the show and backstage," Kori explained to Warai.
"What did you get?" asked Warai of Heylyn.
"Nothing for me really. I'm fine with my simple pleasures. Chai latté. Mineral water. Red bean cake and shrimp dumplings, which they had to order specially for me from a local restaurant who just happened to be related to one of my teachers from Fashion Design school and good friends of my family in GuangZhou..." Heylyn told Warai, then leaning in to Kori's ear and whispering:
"And some healthy treats for Warai after the show..." Heylyn told Kori.
Kori put her index finger to her lips and uttered the all too familiar: "shhhh!".
"Here we are. This is your dressing room. We put the first batch of your rider items here along with a complementary basket gift from the show, and the rest will be delivered to the catering table as needed in your marked area. There's a washroom complete with a sauna and whirlpool, and a day bed there if any of you need to take a nap. The television remote is there, and we also have an internal channel that hosts behind the scenes footage from previous shows. Speaking of which, you might be approached by a roving videographer who is constantly gathering new footage for the that show. He's very quick witted, so be forewarned. I'll return in about half an hour and we'll take you to meet the crew and show you around the studio. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some organizing to do," René winked at Warai, and this time she blushed and laughed at him before he left.
"Day bed? This is practically a country unto itself!" Kori said, jumping up on the bed after removing her shoes, bouncing twice in the air and landing on her tush after which she lay down stretched out to cover nearly the entire surface, as Warai burst out in tears laughing.
"Take it easy you two. I can't take you anywhere, can I?" Heylyn smiled at them, she too feeling very excited by this overwhelming experience.
"Look! Kori! They have video games too!" Warai pointed at the cabinet beneath the large screen television, where four consoles here wired separately, each with their own input on the television.
"We'll play later Warai," Kori assured the little girl.
"Can I go swimming?" asked Warai as she checked the whirlpool and sauna in the bathroom.
"Do you want to look after that for her Kori? I have to go get some ice for the mineral water," Heylyn addressed her assistant firmly and professionally, fanning her face with her hand as she did.
"If it means I get to swim too, I'm all for it!" Kori said, opening their kit and finding their swimming gear from within.
"I'm just going to get that ice. Do you two need anything?" Heylyn asked them.
"No, I think we're alright with the sauna, whirlpool, your rider items and the pay television for now..." Kori said as she helped Warai into the restroom to get changed for their sauna and swim.
"Back in a moment," Heylyn said as she stepped out of her dressing room door.
She looked around for any sign of an ice machine and remembered having seen one just before the catering area, in the same alcove with the coffee and cold drinks. She began on her way down the hall in that direction when she noticed a large muscular man, his arm covered in body art not unlike that of Aikiko, though his was themed on a more American Gothic verbosity. The Grim Reaper present on his arm, as were other iconic figures of similar mythological horror. He walked in her direction, speaking on the phone with someone and not noticing her until the last moment, when he nearly collided with her, if not for her aura.
His bigger frame impacted with her aura, which easily threw him back nearly ten feet and towards a wall, leaving her unscathed while he lay propped up against the wall. He sat up, stunned and dazed, wondering what had just happened.
"I'm sooo sorry. Are you alright? I didn't see you," Heylyn went over to the man, who flipped his baseball cap around so that the duckbill was at the back.
He stood in front of her, towering over her almost as if he were ready to trade blows with her, when he suddenly stopped and looked at her in disbelief.
"No.... we're cool. No harm no foul..." he said to her, very quickly returning his baseball cap to its former position.
"He was a handsomely fit man, perhaps in his early thirties, looking very much like Vanilla Ice, though with a bit more vanity bulk and a higher density of tattoos.
"Do you exercise...?" he asked her, shocked that she'd so easily toppled him.
"A little bit. Apparently so do you?" Heylyn asked him, admiring the tone lines along the muscles on his arms.
"Yes... you could say that. I spend four hours a day working on strength training, and I've never had anyone bounce me off that easily in my life... let alone a little Chinese woman like yourself... Chinese right?" he asked her, still amazed by what had just happened, though Heylyn could tell that he was keeping something else from her. Something very specific to him and his situation.
"Yes. Chinese. From north of your border," she winked at him.
"I'm guessing that all that living in igloos hardens you up considerably?" he asked her jokingly.
"That and the dog sleds..." she joked.
"I bet..." he returned a smile.
"You know, its not so much how much you exercise, but how. I spend a lot of time working on my stabilizers, while my flexors are kind of a second priority. Can't use them if you can't stay on your feet now, can you? Maybe you should try walking in heels all day," Heylyn suggested to him.
He smiled at her uneasily, and laughed cautiously the same.
"Right. I might try that," he watched her as she left on her way to the ice machine, suddenly remembering that he'd left someone on the other end of the line.
He looked around for his phone and found it under a nearby table. He grabbed it and put it to his ear.
"You're never going to guess what just happened..." he said to the person on the other end.
"You're right honey, I'll never guess what just happened," she replied.
"Lorraine, I just bumped into a little Chinese lady a little more than half my height, and bounced off of her like a tennis ball off a brick wall. But that's not the weirdest thing. After that happened, its like the voices disappeared. All of it! All of the Mentis nonsense! Its like all gone! I haven't had this much peace for nearly a decade honey!" he explained to her.
"Then you have to use that to finish this! To let the world know what you know about this! This is a sign from the lord..." Lorraine pleaded with him.
"Its something more than that, honey. I can feel it. Its like... clarity. Like the weight of everything that ever happened that brought me to this very point, its all gone. All at once! I don't know if I can even remember what I have to speak about, because I want to live using my time to enjoy life, not harp about all the things about this Mentis fellow that is crushing our lives..." he assured her.
"Now you listen to me Geldon! You promised you were going to take this on full force! For the lord! For us! Don't you back out on me now!" Lorraine asserted herself to him.
"Honey. I'm going to do what's necessary and finish this. And then I want to take this chance I've been given and do something else with my time. Life's short honey," Geldon said to her.
"You have no idea, but the lord does and for all of us. Now get it done, and come home. I'll be looking forward to seeing you," Lorraine replied to him.
"So will I honey. See you soon. Watch for me on the show," Geldon said his goodbyes to Lorraine and made his way to his own dressing room.
...
Heylyn continued along the hall until she found the ice machine and a stack of buckets. She went to grab one and a video camera was suddenly and unexpectedly thrust into her face, which filled the full frame of its image with her immaculate complexion, luscious red lips and deeply piercing dark brown eyes.
"Why does this suddenly feel like a trip to a voyeuristic dentist?" she said without losing a beat, catching even the videographer off guard.
"Heylyn Yates everyone on NBC Insider Today Backstage," the videographer panned the camera back to his face, and then as he stood side by side with Heylyn, took a shot of them standing together.
"I've been warned about you," she said to him with a smile on her face.
"Ditto. Several times over. Here's the woman who requested that the bulk of her rider be given as food and dessert gifts to the
Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center for women, those being treated for Breast Cancer. How's that for a heart? Do you have plans to run for office in your home in Canada?" the videographer smiled as Heylyn took her hands and mimed a heart with her fingers and thumbs.
"No plans for politics yet, but I have some friends back home who already are. What about you?" Heylyn smiled at him.
"Me? I want to stay on this side of the camera, not that one. So what brings you here?" the videographer asked her.
"The ice machine," Heylyn replied honestly.
"That's a long trip for some ice. Is this for a hockey rink or something? I don't think its going to help you win back the Stanley Cup you know?" the videographer goaded her on Canada's own sport.
"I guess that's kind of like you losing the NBA back in 2019, isn't it?" she responded quickly, catching him off guard.
"Whoa! And a sense of humour to boot! We'll see what happens in this next hockey season. Do you have anything you'd like to say to NBC Insiders? Maybe some martial arts stuff? She's a master of multiple martial arts by the way. Here's a lady that didn't waste too much of her time..." the videographer asked of her.
"Just one step at a time. In the words of my Sifus, Senseis and Sebomnims and maybe even Joe Rogan, do something that takes you forward, and improves you in some small way each and every day, no matter how humble it is," Heylyn said to the camera.
"...and then go out and kick butt! Right?" the videographer asked her.
"Absolutely... most often, one's own, and out of bed in the morning... We might look a bit different, but we fight with that alarm every single day just like anyone else," Heylyn added as the videographer switched the camera off and addressed her without an audience.
"That was really good. Thank you so much for being a sport. Its sometimes a bit shocking for some of the guests. I guess in this lifestyle, we're all conditioned to be a certain way and to handle things with a very firm set of borders. This industry creates a lot of divas, men and women both, though its no fault of their own. Its just the nature of the business and how some of us get hardened by our own fans. Thank you for handling it so well. You're a real star you know," the videographer spoke to Heylyn very much a different person than he'd been a moment earlier when the camera was rolling.
"I'm just glad to be a part of this. I know that in doing your job, you need to wear your protective armour. We all do. Yours is your on camera character, while mine comes in many different forms. More than you'll ever know," Heylyn spoke to him more cryptically than he was aware.
"Ain't that the truth. We'll send you a copy of this in about two weeks. Some of our guests, especially those in fashion like yourself, like these moments on video, and often share them during parties and such. They make for a laugh or two. Look, you break a leg out there tonight," he said to her and disappeared down the hall to find his next victim.
...
Monique stepped out of the shower and began drying herself with her favourite fluffy white towel. She leaned over and dried the back of her head, and then wrapped her long platinum streaked hair in a towel and fastened it in place.
She leaned out of the bathroom door and yelled down the hallway of the condo:
"Aikiko? Could you put the water on for some Rooibos?" she asked her roommate.
"I just boiled it like a two minutes ago. Its still hot," Aikiko responded as she too relaxed in front of the television watching for any sign of the upcoming show that would be on later that same night.
Monique finished applying cream to her face and then made her way down the hall and to the kitchen and kettle.
"Would you like one?" she asked Aikiko.
"Like what?" Aikiko asked.
"If it has hot water in it, you name it," Monique replied as she poured the water into her cup, the Rooibos tinting the water red.
"How about one of those light wine coolers?" Aikiko asked.
"That too," Monique pulled a cup from the cupboard and grabbed some ice from the ice maker on the fridge and poured Aikiko's cooler, bringing it to her thereafter before returning to the kitchen and opening her laptop.
"Come on! They're doing a bit on the news about the broadcast at the bar in the Rogers Center... I just saw a stock clip of Heylyn from last year..." Aikiko urged her room mate.
"Just gotta check my email..." Monique went through her inbox, reading messages one by one, stopping when she arrived at a professionally written letter, that included lots of legalese.
"Aikiko?" Monique said, sounding very perturbed.
"Yes?" asked Aikiko.
"Could you come here for a moment?" Monique asked.
"We're going to miss it..." Aikiko got up from her seat and made her way over to Heylyn.
"What is it?" Aikiko asked her.
"Read this... and tell me I'm not seeing things..." Monique requested of her other best friend.
"O.K. If that's not clickbait... I don't know what is..." Aikiko turned the laptop in her direction and began reading the email.
She stopped when she'd finished reading it, and then read it again, focusing on the last part of the message:
We would like to negotiate a contract with the two of you, starting at two million minus the finder's fee for the service bureau that arranged for this deal on our behalf. Assuming that you remain top models in your niche industry, you'd continue receiving a million each a year under contract for up to five years, at which point we'd renegotiate your contracts.
Please reply to us at your earliest convenience after having had your legal department examine this offer and the included contract. Of course, this would require that you terminate your contract with West Meet East International to join our team as our flagship models.
We look forward to hearing from you,
MT. Turneman Agency
Los Angeles, California
The room remained silent as they realized the enormity of what they'd just read.
"I've dreamt of this day, every day of my life since I was a little girl..." Monique admitted to Aikiko.
"Me too. A little bit differently though. In my dream, I was fighting ninjas in front of camera as the star of my own movie. Kind of like Sailor Moon..." Aikiko admitted to Monique, causing her to laugh and easing some of the tension she felt that had arisen as a result of the message.
"You realize that this would change everything. We'd be working with different people in a different environment with different attitudes..." Monique explained.
"Different condos... a car or two each..." Aikiko added.
"Money to invest..." Monique thought aloud.
"That too. I don't ever want to be without a safety net in life again..." Aikiko told Monique, some elements of her past still fresh on her mind.
"Well, its not like we can't afford those things now... but this kind of change never presented itself before... How would she take it?" Monique looked to the screen where Heylyn was talking to an interviewer from earlier in the day at JFK Airport after her flight from Toronto:
"...I just hope everyone tuning in tonight has a great time and its really an honour to be representing Toronto... and Ontario... and Canada on the show. It wouldn't have been possible without my team back home... that's you West Meet East!" Heylyn spoke to the camera, and for a moment, both Monique and Aikiko thought she was right there talking directly to them.
"Also appearing on tonight's show alongside Heylyn Yates is the host of the controversial web show Conspiracy Hour: Geldon Dekes, famed Photographer Derek Keen, and musical act Ghengis Lord. Keep in mind that it is Friday the 13th. To make sure Heylyn's luck stays on the right track, we'll be giving away these Good Luck Charms to the first hundred attending tonight's broadcast of the show at the Roger's Center Bar. This is Jan Lee reporting for CityTV," the reported finished her story as Monique clicked the remote to power the television off.
"I think I'll take one of those coolers now..." Monique said, drinking back her Rooibos as quickly as she could.
After she'd done, she deposited her cup in the dishwasher and poured herself a cooler.
Not So Keen Family
Delia Keen had for just as long as had Derek, built her career as a freelance journalist, working regularly for the big three new media conglamerates: Reuters, Bloomberg and the Associated Press. As a matter of fact, being from a large family herself, she had been the first daughter (of six) out of the house and pursuing a career from the starting gate or her life.
In her first year she'd managed to land seven first rate stories for each of those major media outlets, and had solidified her career amongst her peers, and yet, that was not enough for this success hungry woman from a large family of six sisters and five brothers. She wanted to be example that the rest of her siblings were be forced to match in terms of her accomplishment, and not long after having been the first in the family to break the hundred thousand a year income level, she got married to an equally successful Editor-in-Chief.
She had a big wedding, and both of her parents attended, and for that moment in her life and for another year onward, she would be the apple in her parents' eyes, much to the chagrin of her ten other siblings, for in a family so large, rivalry was the norm of life. Each of them competing viciously for their parents' attention, while slicing and dicing their siblings for their successes as much so as their failures. There was no happy medium for any member of the family who succeeded. They would find themselves gossipped about. Ridiculed from afar. Slandered or being accused of leeching from other family members who assumed themselves to be the source of the family's talent.
Success amongst the family had become bad for the health and emotional well being of those who achieved it, and this was a fact that Edward Clifford, Delia's husband eventually figured out. She'd never be happy, nor would her own siblings ever let her be, so long as she was a success, for they were still viciously competing with each other for their parents' attention. Two days after their first year marriage anniversary, Edward filed for divorce from Delia. He knew that if they'd started a family, that her own children would eventually become targets of the same thing from other bitter family members, as critical of their successes as they were of their failures and that was not a healthy environment within which children could thrive and grow.
Edward however, became close friends with Derek, and whenever they were in town at the same time, they'd get together for the bottom nine at Chelsea Piers Golf Course. Derek by that point had not yet taken the defining photograph of his career, but in the interests of his health and happiness, he often heeded Edward's advice and kept news of his career from the rest of his siblings. They would eventually go on to keep track of him in other ways, but in the interim until he'd taken that career defining photo, it bought him a lot of much needed peace. He wouldn't be reunited with his siblings until a year later, when one of them would die as a result of coronary disease.
He kept himself curt and discrete at the funeral, only discussing matters of his career with Delia, who by that time had calmed down considerably and taken a step back in life to focus on what really mattered. Their siblings still mostly resented them, and there was little talk or discussion between them, during the funeral and afterwards, at the wake. A few drinks in and one of Derek's brothers was ready to fight him, his jealous rage finally having surfaced.
Derek faced him head on, and dared not back down, despite neither of them being the kind of people who'd ever fought. To him it was more about principle, and the vitriol driving his brother to such behaviour was more so his own than anyone else's. It was not Derek's responsibility how his siblings took their mutual bitterness towards each other. They were holding his success against him on the grounds of how they felt about themselves more so than anything to do with him, but their vitriol would eventually find its way to him, and become harmful to his life as well.
Before he left, his father pulled him aside and apologized for how their family had unfolded, letting both him and Delia know that it was not their fault. He told them (away from the rest of the family) that he was very proud of them and that the reason for that was because they knew it for themselves without seeking his or their mother's approval. They weren't trying to prove anything. They were merely living their lives to the fullest.
A few months later and Delia was married again, and in a partnership that would last for the rest of her life, even raising three very happy children together with her new husband. Derek however, would remain as free as a bird, eventually becoming the common-law partner of Edward's sister, (another journalist) Susan. Edward would die a year later when the first jet impacted tower one. Only thirty-two minutes later, Derek would take his career defining photograph, which he dedicated to Edward's memory.
When the photograph had found its way to the front covers of the biggest new media magazines, namely Time Magazine. National Geographic and a one off special reissue of Life Magazine, a little more than a year after it had ceased print, his photographs could be found in every household in America.
Fame arrived very quickly from that point and he had become one of the most in demand photographers of all time. His news photography portfolio, which had previously been worth perhaps a hundred and fifty grand, was now valued at over six million dollars from licensing alone. That one photograph had changed everything for him, and yet it was the only photograph in his portfolio that he refused to accept any more money than ten percent of what his airline ticket had cost him that same day that he took it. The lives lost on that day were beyond any price, and so that photograph became the least valued in terms of licensing fees in his portfolio. His fortune came from how much the attention of that photograph had boosted the licensing value of his entire portfolio. He could have retired at that point and simply lived on the licensing fees, but he went on to similarly capture many more iconic shots after the turn of the millennium, finally retiring in 2023, just after the pandemic.
His siblings had continued their vitriol from afar, as had other family members too, who had become jealous of his success, but he stayed clear of them and focused on the ones who'd overcome the worst of their emotional and character flaws of that form, while those who couldn't change simply went on remaining bitter. Their social disease sometimes reaching as far as his life, at which point he and his common-law partner would simply sell their condo and leave, moving somewhere else until the vitriol found them once again, repeating the process and so on.
His and his common-law partner's emotional health was worth it, and they seldom ever regretted having to live life in such a way. The family and friends who'd assumed that the best of Derek and his common-law wife had come from them, went on being bitter, many of them simply not dealing with their own issues, but rather taking it out on them. A family though, Derek knew that at some point, they'd realize that the issue was with them, and perhaps when they were ready to deal with that, that they'd eventually come around.
The offending family members would claim that they'd been responsible for Derek's career, for his skills as a photographer and one or two of them had even claimed to be the real photog of his career defining photo and that he'd leeched it all from them. That he and Delia had been ungrateful to them, though whenever they attempted to communicate with them, they would find themselves punished for expressing anything other than animosity.
No matter how many other people backed them, the professionals in the industry knew the real truth, and they rarely if ever gave them the time of day, for they too had seen it all from other similar situations involving the arrival of fame. There was something about it that drove some people to selfish bitterness towards those who achieved it, while others of a more happy and centered being would find nothing but joy for the persons who'd arrived at its front door and often even shared in it in some way. Most issues that argued against it for some, were most often rooted in the people expressing such vitriol rather than those who'd achieved it. The learning curve however, belonged to both sides of the fence. The pain felt by the resented, and the animosity expressed by the resenter.
One day in early March of 2025, Derek while snuggling with Susan on the sofa, received a phone call from the casting of the Evening Show with Jimmy Fallon, over at NBC. They wanted him to appear on their episode of Friday June 13, a couple months from that time. He eventually agreed and became enthusiastic about it when hearing that Fashion Designer Heylyn Yates would be their so called A-list guest on the show. He'd heard from other photographers who'd shot at her shows in Toronto that she was a pretty awesome lady and a down to earth host, and so he agreed to be a guest on the show, under the condition that the producers procured for him seven tickets, which would be for Delia, her family and hers' and Derek's parents (now in their mid-eighties) to attend.
One week before the arrival of their show, Derek spent the entire day searching his belongings for the one thing that he'd need the most: the stub of the airline ticket from the day he'd taken that photo. He'd had it sealed in plastic and turned into a keychain ornament, which he'd kept in the top drawer of his wardrobe.
"What are you looking for honey?" asked Susan.
'The show's in a week and I can't find my good luck charm," he said to her.
"I thought that you said that you grabbed it from the top drawer when we left Jersey last year," she said to him.
"No... I thought you grabbed it," he said to her, realizing that they'd left it at the last condo that they'd sold.
He quickly got on the phone with their real estate agent and asked for the number of the new owners of their last condo. He then called them and spoke with the wife of the new owner, who ex0plained that she didn't recall seeing any airline ticket or keychain ornaments when they moved in. However, an hour later, when the man who actually purchased the condo got home, he explained that he found it and left it at work in the top drawer of his desk at a currency trading firm.
When Derek asked if he could pick it up from the man, he stated that he'd be out of town on that week and that he'd have to come the following week to get it from him. Derek agreed to the man's terms, realizing that he'd be without his good luck charm on Friday June 13, 2025. The very evening of the show.
...
René had just taken Derek for the tour and dropped him off at the catering station, where he and Susan (almost literally) bumped into Heylyn, her bucket of ice in hand. As they stopped for a quick drink at the catering table, Heylyn had stepped over to grab a few wedges of lime for her mineral water when Derek finally spoke up.
"Heylyn, right?" Derek held out his hand to her.
"I'm sorry, I don't recognize you..." Heylyn placed the ice bucket down on the catering table beside the cups.
"Derek Keen. Freelance photographer. This is my common-law partner Susan," Derek introduced them to Heylyn.
"I'm was a writer and copy editor for Sports Illustrated. Retired last year in November. Its a pleasure to meet you Heylyn," Susan greeted her, a very casually dressed woman in denim, but very naturally pretty despite wearing no makeup at all.
"The Time Magazine cover from October 2001, that was yours?" confirmed Heylyn.
"That's the one that put me on the map, though I retired last year as well. Still making good residuals for the licensing on the remainder of my portfolio though, I donated all the proceeds from that image on the cover of Time to a fund for the families of the first responders and for Muslim women and children who were victims of violence from around the same time," Derek explained to her.
"He didn't just take the photo and then take the money and run..." Susan explained to Heylyn.
"I never assumed as much..." Heylyn smiled as she poured herself a mineral water.
"Well, you'd be surprised how many people made that assumption. I guess that's part of the reason why I'm here tonight. Its to clear up that entire misimpression," Derek explained to Heylyn.
"From the sounds of it, there's nothing to explain. You brought something to the attention of the world when maybe things might have gotten much worse without your photo, and the fact that you didn't exploit the fallen for a cash grab," Heylyn stirred her mineral water and took a sip.
"Well, you know how it can be..." Derek replied.
"I do. But you can't let people pidgeon hole into becoming what they're trying to make of you, when the problem is clearly theirs. You just keep going and try to do the right thing," Heylyn explained to them.
"Do you have a guy named Trey working for you?" asked Derek.
"I certainly do. He runs our studios. The photoshoots anyway. You know him?" asked Heylyn.
"I sure do. I went to photography school with him. Just upstate here. I was a few years ahead of him, but I certainly remember him. When it comes to portrait and abstract, he was the best damned photographer in the school, seniors included. He landed a couple of photos that are still on the walls in that school you know. In my business we were a pretty tight knit bunch, so we keep track of each other. Next time I'm up there in Toronto, I'll drop by if you'll have me," Derek offered.
"You're more than welcome any time you'd like. So did you two get the tour of the studio yet?" Heylyn asked them.
"Just got back. René gave a few of us the run down, Susan, Geldon and I. The tall muscular fellow with the tats?" asked Derek.
"I know him. I ran into him already," Heylyn smiled.
"He runs an extremely popular conspiracy web series. New hour long epsidode every Thursday. Different topic every week. Part of a tight mystery community there on YouTube. He's got something big planned for tonight. Just a head's up to you in case your scare easily. I mean, it is Friday 13th you know. I've even got a whole pack of family coming tonight to make sure nothing happens," Derek reminded her.
"Thanks for the heads up. I guess I'll see you later during sound check?" Heylyn reminded him.
"Oh yeah. Right. I almost forgot. See you then," Derek took Susan's hand and they headed for their dressing room to catch a short nap together.
"Nice meeting you Heylyn," Susan waved to Heylyn as they disappeared around the corner.
"Now, lets check up on my swimming room mates..." Heylyn grabbed her mineral water and the ice bucket and continued for the dressing room.
To be continued...
I will be spending Wednesday ensuring that all the times and dates line up correctly with my revisions to the story. Brian Joseph Johns
Credits and attribution:
Special Thanks To Rocket Fuel Lakeshore Blvd West, perhaps the best place in history to get a coffee, circa 2001-2004. Miss you all very much.
Tools: Daz3D, Corel Painter, Adobe Photoshop, Lightwave 3D, Blender, Stable Diffusion (Easy Diffusion distribution), InstantID, Sadtalker, Google Colaboratory, Microsoft Copilot (Windows 11), Hitfilm, PhotoPea (a great web based Photoshop stand-in if you're on a low budget or in a pinch), Borderline Obsession...
DeepSeek AI for suggestions on exercises to improve aspects of describing scene and settings with a more sensory focused grammar.
InstantID by: Wang, Qixun and Bai, Xu and Wang, Haofan and Qin, Zekui and Chen, Anthony. Research Paper Title: InstantID - Zero-shot Identity-Preserving Generation in Seconds.
Sadtalker by: Zhang, Wenxuan and Cun, Xiaodong and Wang, Xuan and Zhang, Yong and Shen, Xi and Guo, Yu and Shan, Ying and Wang, Fei.
Research Paper Title: SadTalker: Learning Realistic 3D Motion Coefficients for Stylized Audio-Driven Single Image Talking Face Animation.
Gratitude: Our Mentors, Senseis, Sifus, Sebomnims, lifetime inspirations, family, friends, the Nomads (ask Stanton about that one), the Music, the Movies, the Theatre, the Arts, ASMR, (both YouTube and Bilibili and the many other creators on those platforms), the Gaming and Developer communities and of course, the audience.
Martial Arts (in the words of real experts and at least one comedian): https://brucelee.com (home of the real Dragon and an entire family of inspirations), http://iwco.online International Wing Chun Organization (International presence of a very scalable intensity martial art, protected and developed by Shaolin Nun Ng Mui) and the alma mater of Jinn Hua's own specialized variation thereof, https://iogkf.com International Okinawan Goju-Ryu Karatedo Federation (even Hanshi had his teachers), https://itftkd.sport International Taekwondo Federation (Here there be Taegers), https://tangsoodoworld.com Tang Soo Do World (the path of Grandmaster Chuck Norris), https://www.aikido-international.org International Aikido Federation (how else would Navy Chef Steven Seagal liberate a Nimitz Class Aircraft Carrier from a team of hijackers?), https://www.stqitoronto.com Shaolin Temple Quanfa Institute (The City Of Toronto's own Shaolin Temple), https://www.enterthedojoshow.com Master Ken's Ameri-Te-Do presence (If we can't laugh at ourselves, then we can at least laugh the loudest at others, and other Zen)
Magic (performance, illusion and perhaps the real thing): Magic Week Archive (I'm currently growing this section so stay tuned)
Special thanks to Aitrepreneur, Mickmumpitz, Hugging Face and the YouTube educational content producers, including those catering to the AI content production pipeline and of course AlphaSignal.
Shi Heng Yi Shaolin Training For Self Mastery
A reknowned Sifu under whose tutelage you can study the theory and practical applications of the Shaolin Arts for health, physical and mental wellbeing in every day life
Jesse Enkamp: Karate Nerd
Jesse, a reknowned Sensei who runs his own dojo, explores the world of Martial Arts, traveling to many exotic locations to meet practitioners of a variety of different arts
Sensei Rokas: Martial Arts Journey
A reknowned Sensei of Aikido who in seeking to understand the roots of Aikido and its applications, seeks to stress test its effectiveness in a number of real world situations while studying its history
Seamus O'Dowd
An extensive growing archive Katas, Techniques and Waza (mostly Shotokan)
Iaido: Train For Katana Mastery Like Samurai
The original weapons focused curriculum under which Samurai became masters of their art
Tapp Brothers Exercise For Better Motion
Extensive courses for calisthenics and body strength, stamina and flexibility
Special thanks to Canva for inspiring other creators and giving them the tools
Special thanks to Captain Crunch and his wonderful sister!
Special thanks to Bandcamp for giving indie music artists a home under one roof
Something to give you perspective: The very first teacher had no formal education, didn't graduate and was self taught, but only because they had no other choice. We do.
This content is entirely produced in Toronto, Ontario, Canada at 200 Sherbourne Street Suite 701 under the Shhhh! Digital Media banner.
