"Imagine children getting to meet their idol," Beatrice said, "they get to talk to Bea, ask her questions, get their photo taken. That's all the after event. First we put on a show, and then we have the meet and greet. That's what I want to do. So many children never get to meet their heroes, those who push them to strive for greatness, and I think that's unfair. I don't wanna be distant. I wanna be in their lives. A force of good."
Liam, Steph, Michelle, Casey and Eliza were seated in the meeting room as Beatrice explained her plan, but none of them, truth be told, were sold on it at all. Course, nobody wanted to be the one who said that. "I realize that we're already a force of good, just by being on the air for them, but we can do more. I wanna do more," Bea continued, "because...because some children don't have parents. Some children had bad parents. Some childrens parents die. I want to create an open line of communication, and this is the first step in that direction, I think. No child should feel alone and scared and confused." "I don't disagree," Steph said, shifting uncomfortably in her chair, "but I don't necessarily agree that this is the best way of going about it." "A live show is a lot of work, Bea," Liam said, "are you sure you're up for that sort of engagement? Dedication?" "When aren't I?" Bea asked, leaning against the wall and crossing her arms. She had a point, she was always up for whatever it took, and nobody could argue that claim no matter what they had to say in response. Bea sighed and shook her head slightly, tossing her bangs from her face, adding, "look, I know it's a lot of work, but it's...it's important to me and these sorts of things are good for what we do. Almost every popular childrens brand has, at one time or another, done a live show of some kind. I hate to use marketing terms, but it 'grows the brand', and so from your perspective, Steph, that's a good thing." "I'm not all about money, you know," Steph replied, sounding hurt, "I appreciate the artistry that goes into what you and everyone else on the network does. I don't have a money boner." "Money Boner is my favorite punk rock song," Casey interjected, making Michelle laugh, which in turn made Casey blush. "I just think there's others factors to consider here. We'd have to put the show on hold while we do this," Steph said, "unless you have that many shows in the hopper." "Our finale is coming up in a few weeks, we start preparations now, then we announce it once the finale is out, then that gives children something to look forward to in the interim while they wait for new episodes," Bea said, "it isn't rocket science, you guys, it's simple economics. We give kids what they deserve, and we continue to make money even while not producing actual content. Not that live shows aren't actual content, but you know what I mean." Once again, nobody could argue with this. Beatrice had clearly done her homework. "I'll run it up the ladder," Steph said half heartedly. "Aren't you top rung?" Casey asked, sipping on her soda. "...yes," Steph replied, before briskly gathering her things and leaving the room. "Weird lady," Casey said upon Steph's exit, shaking her head. *** Keagan was walking through the hall with Serena under her arm, heading for the set department, hoping to run into Michelle, unaware that she was in a meeting. She had already checked The Hole and, upon realizing Eliza wasn't there, figured they must be in the set department, which was why she was headed there now. As she passed by a small group of well dressed white women, she heard them lower their voices, but couldn't make out what they were saying. She figured it was best to ignore it. Keagan pushed open the doors to the set department and looked around, then sighed when it slowly dawned on her that neither Michelle nor Eliza were here. Thankfully, however, her gaze caught sight of Liam, of all people. Liam had left the meeting shortly after Steph, and decided to hang out in the set department doing behind the scenes design management. Keagan approached him and tapped him on the shoulder, causing him to turn to face her and jolt back a little upon seeing Serena. "Wow," he said, "that's uncanny." "What, do all puppets look the same to you?" Keagan asked, making him chuckle; she then asked, "where's Michelle? Where's Eliza? Where is everyone?" "We had an impromptu meeting," Liam said, sipping his coffee and adjusting his glasses, "Michelle and Eliza probably went to lunch afterwards. Why?" "I just wanted Michelle to actually see the puppet Eliza and I came up with," Keagan said, sighing, leaning against the stage and looking at Serena's face, adding, "...sometimes it feels like I don't even matter. Like everyone else is so much more important to the production than I am, like I'm just here cause I helped Michelle track you guys down." "Hey," Liam said, leaning beside her and touching her shoulder, "you're important, Keagan. Don't think like that. Everyone who works here works here because Beatrice saw their importance, and you're certainly on the ground floor of that. Keep in mind we wouldn't even be here without you and Michelle. You guys are a team, even if she has Eliza these days." "I guess," Keagan said, "it's just hard to feel that way when I'm not even invited to meetings and stuff. I feel so...ancillary." "Yeah, well, that's what a lifetime with Bea is like," Liam said, which cause Keagan to raise an eyebrow. She'd rarely heard Liam speak ill of Bea, and even then, when he did, she could still feel the love behind his statement. Whatever it was he was suggesting, he didn't mean anything mean with it, she knew that much. Liam added, "listen, if I see either of them before you do, I'll let them know you're looking for them. Until then, you wanna stick around here and help me figure out some set work?" "Sure, that sounds fun," Keagan said, grinning. At least, if nothing else, Liam always had her back. *** "You don't really think it's a good idea, do you?" Michelle asked, sipping her soup across from Eliza at their usual luncheon spot. "I don't, but not for the reasons you might think," Eliza said, "cause, uh, one might assume that I'm against it because of the strenous aspects putting on such a live show would be, but that isn't the case. I think she's only doing it as a reaction to the grief of losing her mom. I know because when I lost my mom, I did a lot of stupid stuff too cause I thought they were good ideas since I was clouded with loss, blinded by grief." "Like what?" Michelle asked, wiping her mouth with her napkin and setting her spoon down in her bowl. "Well," Eliza said, clearing her throat, "for a while, and this is so dumb I know but...I used to go to loss groups, for parents who, like, had lost children, and I would pretend that each of the women speaking there were my mom, and were talking about me. I needed to put it into perspective from her side, like, what if she had survived and I hadn't. I know it's really sick, but..." "It's not sick," Michelle said, shaking her head, "you're not sick, sweetie, that's...you said it yourself, you do things that don't really make sense in hindsight after such a great loss. Bea was close with her parents, she's just going through the shit, you know? Same as you were. The difference is, you know how to better channel your emotions into your work, while Bea tries but just lets her emotions take over her work. That's the innate difference between you two." Eliza smiled, looking down at her hands. "I think," she said, "you're the first person to ever told me I'm not sick, other than Beatrice, and my dad, and my dad only said it after the accident because he didn't want me blaming myself. I don't know that I really believes he believes that. Beatrice I believe. You I really believe. Thank you." Michelle smiled back. It was weird, she thought, being in a relationship since she'd never planned on being in one. Actually taking the time to know someone, comfort them when they needed it, boost their self esteem back up. And it wasn't one sided. Anytime Michelle felt distraught and turned to Eliza for help, Eliza returned it threefold. It was a fully functioning, well oiled machine they had built, and she wouldn't give it up for anything else in the world. But it was still strange. Michelle hadn't seen her parents interact much before her father left, so she simply never had any real idea of what a healthy relationship looked like. And yet...and yet she knew she was better at it, far better at it at that, than her mother ever could be, and that was consolation enough. Michelle got out from her side of the booth and slid in beside Eliza, who looked surprised but bit her lip happily. Michelle put her hands on Eliza's face and leaned in, pressing her lips to hers and kissing her, Eliza happily kissing her back. Public displays of affection be damned, they were both just so happy to have one another after a lifetime of having virtually nobody, and they didn't care who knew it. *** Beatrice was sitting at her desk, her feet up on the desk as she tapped her pen against her leg. Her office door opened and Casey slinked inside, shutting the door behind her as she did. Bea looked up at her and smiled weakly, acknowledging her presence as Casey pulled a chair around to the front of the desk and sat down on it the opposite direction. "What are you, a hip pastoral youth counselor?" Bea asked, making Casey chuckle. "Kids, lemme tell you about my boy, JC," she replied, making Bea laugh loudly before she continued with, "actually I just wanted to talk to you about, you know, the live show and all that stuff and...and just see how you were doing. Cause, like, it seems like a lot of work, but, ya know, it's probably worth it. I'm definitely on your side. I don't know why Steph is being such a stick in the mud." "She has a budget to think about. I can't really dismiss her concerns," Beatrice said, "she has an entire streaming network at her disposal to watch over, we aren't the primary thing they produce. We're just one of the more popular ones." "And shouldn't that popularity alone warrant getting what you want? Otherwise what's the point of fame if it can't get you something?" Casey asked. Bea smirked and sat upright in her chair, tossing her pen on the desk. "I like the way you think," Bea said. "Well," Casey said, "I just...I don't see the purpose of driving up subscriber numbers for someone elses service if they won't give you what you want in return. It has to be a mutually beneficial relationship. This feels parasocial, ya know? That shit isn't right." Beatrice nodded, taking in what Casey was saying, knowing full well she was right. She was one of the leading programs on the network, she had every right to demand something now and then. "You can't...you can't bring in millions of dollars and not be compensated," Casey said, "and...and having the ability to continue to make your work isn't the compensation. It's just one part of it. They have to give you more. They have to. You're worth that. This whole fucking thing is worth that. So, if you wanna put on a live show...I wanna help. When I was in high school I roadied for my friends band, and I know a lot about that kind of stuff and I know it isn't the same but...but I wanna help." "...thank you, Casey," Beatrice said, "you're right. And I'd be so glad to have you on the team. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go have some words with Stephanie." *** Liam had left for the day, citing a doctors appointment, which meant Keagan now had no companionship in the set department if only because she didn't know anybody else on a personal level. But she simply continued doing the things that he had left her in charge to do, Serena laying on the stage beside her as she sculpted and painted and did whatever it was she could. While she was cutting something, she heard a woman approach the stage and look at Serena. Keagan's eyes turned towards her, instantly recognizing her as one of the women from the hall before. "Is this your puppet?" she asked. "Well, they asked me to help design a puppet to represent the African American community, ya know for any black kids who might be watching, so kind of?" Keagan replied, laughing weakly. "You don't think it's...too black?" the woman asked, and this caught Keagan off guard. She set down her tools. "Too black?" she asked. "You know what I mean, like, it looks like it came from the inner city," the woman replied, "I'm just, I work for the marketing department and I can tell you right now that trying to sell this character isn't going to be easy. White audiences, and let's be honest our audience is predominantly white, don't mind black characters on the condition that they seem white. That they come from well to do families. This is why shows with well off, good natured black families do so much better than ones that feature the opposite." Keagan couldn't believe what she was hearing. She turned her attention fully, now, to the woman. "Let me ask you something," Keagan said, "do you also believe one can be too white? You know, wearing polo shirts and eating at kitschy chain restaurants where they hang ridiculous bullshit on the wall, and only listening to the most musically disinteresting band one can find? Because, surely, if that exists for one group it exists for every group." "Well of course, no one's gonna argue that," the woman said, "but that doesn't matter, because white audiences don't mind that. They revel in that type of second hand self degrading caricature." "The fuck they do," Keagan replied, "they can't handle being portrayed as anything other than perfection. We don't get that option. If we're not white enough, we're too black. There's no fuckin' middle of the road for us, because almost all of our characters are created and written by white folk. You don't see the level of unfairness between those two things?" "I'm not here to argue race relations," the woman said sternly, "I'm simply telling you, from a marketing perspective, that trying to sell this puppet as a character, and any potential merchandise attached to it, will be very very difficult." "I don't exist to make the market easier for you," Keagan said, finally sliding off the stage and standing firmly before the marketing executive, adding, "and neither does this fuckin' puppet, alright? We're people, not merchandise, and that can be said for any character of any race, but especially for those who are often deemed a potential threat to your investor more than others." That's when Keagan glanced around, her eyes darting across the room, realizing everyone was watching them, almost as if they were expecting her to attack this woman like the stereotype would be expected of her. She unclenched her hands, trying to let the anger leave her, refusing to fall into their perspective trap of her people. The woman just smiled smugly, then turned to leave when suddenly she felt a fist connect with her jaw and she stumbled back against the stage, clenching her face. Standing behind her was Casey, of all people, nursing her hand, leaving Keagan in shock. The woman was helped up by a few people and left the area, leaving Keagan and Casey alone together, amidst the remaining crew. "Wow," Keagan said. "Sorry, that was real white saviory of me," Casey said. "No, no, I prefer you did it," Keagan said, "if I did that I'd be sued and fired. All you're gonna get is a mild talk from HR." Casey laughed, and Keagan laughed in response. Neither one felt like the fit in, but perhaps that's where the best friendships blossom. Keagan climbed back on stage to continue her work, and Casey offered to help. Maybe the outcasts could benefit from one anothers company. Besides, whether they were African American or a drug addict, they were each a looked down upon minority, and they weren't about to turn away potential defenders. *** Beatrice found Stephanie in her office, unsurprisingly, doing, also unsurprisingly, paperwork. As she entered, she shut the door behind her, the sound of which caused Steph to look up from her desk and sigh. She shook her head as Bea sat down on the desk and watched her work. "Rough day?" she asked. "Every day is a rough day," Steph said, "what do you want now? I have to have all this budgeting done by this weekend and I-" "I want you to acknowledge what I've given you," Bea said coldly, catching Steph off guard; she continued, "I want you to recognize the success what I created has brought to your network, and give me something in return. Let me put on this live show. It'll be good for the downtime in production, bring in so much extra money, good PR, all that crap you executives love." Steph set her pen down and folded her arms on the desk. "And if I say no?" she asked, "provided the answer is even up to me?" "If you say no then I suppose I will just have to live with that decision, but I'll also be aware of how little I'm valued, and that might change how much effort I put into what I do from hereon out," Beatrice said, making Steph smile wide. "You know what I like about you, Bea," Steph said, "you refuse to be beaten. Anytime something comes up, you rail against it until you win. Your show gets taken from you? You bring it back. You get publicly outed? You embrace it. Your friend almost dies from a medical condition? You donate an organ. That's...that's a level of commitment one has to admire. It also shows how absolutely deranged you are, but it's admirable nonetheless." Beatrice laughed at this half insult, knowing Stephanie didn't fully well mean it to be cruel. "...I have to talk to the budgeting team, the marketing team, all that stuff, but it should be manageable," Steph said, "you're right, you've given us alot and all you're doing is trying to give us, and the kids, more. That's, again, admirable. I don't wanna tell you what you can and cannot do, I don't wanna be what Liam used to be to you. My entire intention, from the very beginning, has been to help you, okay? We just...sometimes we need to find a middle ground. Compromise isn't giving up something you want, it's accepting that you can get part of what you want by not getting all of it. I'm just asking you to compromise with me, Bea." Beatrice and Steph locked eyes momentarily, and Bea nodded. "Fine," she said, "but you know what they say, a good compromise always leaves both parties mad." "Wouldn't be showbusiness if we weren't both wildly disappointed," Steph replied, shaking Bea's hand, both women chuckling. *** Delores was seeing Justine that night, so when Michelle and Eliza arrived back at the house, they knew they had the place to themselves, even if only for a bit. Both were extremely tired and so they opted, instead of doing anything else, to lay upstairs in Michelle's makeshift bedroom. Michelle was laying beside Eliza, spooning her, breathing in the scent of her hair, and thinking about the meeting. After a few minutes, she spoke softly. "I feel jealous when Beatrice gives things to others," Michelle said. "I know what you mean, our attachment feels so personal that it's hard not to," Eliza responded, not opening her eyes, "but she isn't just ours. She's everyones." "I know, that's the thing I have to remind myself of," Michelle said, "Besides, what she's already given us is so much more than whatever she could ever give to someone else." "It's true," Michelle said, as Eliza rolled over to face her; Michelle smiled and pushed Eliza's hair from her face, "she gave me you, after all." Eliza blushed as Michelle kissed her, and together they lay there, in the dark and the quiet. It was something they all, even Beatrice, eventually had to acknowledge, which was that Bea and the character of Beatrice Beagle, were not the same. And while the world got the character, they got the woman who played her, and that was worth so much more.
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Beatrice Beagle follows a young woman obsessed with a defunct pizzeria and kids show featuring a dog mascot. As she uncovers more about its mysterious past, she becomes sucked into the life of the woman who played the mascot, they both discover just how much they need eachother. Archives
April 2024
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