[DFM]

MINI UPDATE





I walk to the cab that I know's waiting for me outside LaCroix's. I never really thought of myself as the ambassador type, but charisma is charisma. Just have to sell myself and not a product. LaCroix had said the Anarch leader was more civil and levelheaded than the downtown crew, hopefully he wasn't exaggerating. I'd have to lie my ass off to appeal to Damsel's type.



"Hollywood?"

HOLLYWOOD



The cab travels down a narrow street before pulling up against the sidewalk. I step out and the cab moves down the street, its driver watching me for a little longer than I'm comfortable with.



Dirtier and more claustrophobic than I'd anticipated. I guess even Tinsel Town's been on the decline. In its own way, it'd be as much of a nightmare to assault as LaCroix's tower. Winding, narrow streets flanked by stone buildings with a million windows. At least you could hit LaCroix with a bunker buster, you'd need a carpet payload for this place.

"Hey!" There's a deep voice and a forceful tap on my shoulder.



"Ain't seen you around here before, and if I ain't seen you, neither has Isaac, so that's your next stop."

"Wait, Isaac wants to see me?"

"Isaac wants to see everybody who's new to Hollywood.He's in the jewelry store at the end of the street, consider yourself invited."

"Alright. I'll do that."



Jewelry store at the end of the street. Sounds more like a mob front than the lair of a Prince. Or a 'Baron' or whatever they're calling themselves. I suppose that makes sense, the Anarch version of a prince being a mob boss.



Hollywood. Hollywood. Rising stars, broken dreams and untalented hacks. I haven't been to the silver screen for a long while, probably not since the dollar shows back when I was a kid. Those were the days.



Back when a city was the entire world. Funny, I suppose, that it's becoming that way again.



That must be the jewelry store Isaac's at. Front door is locked.



Must be an office door somewhere around back.





Well.



"Good evening, neonate... Isaac Abrams. I've been expecting you." He motions towards the chair opposite his desk, asks me to take a seat. "Seems like the wooden soldiers of the Camarilla are perched around Hollywood too often in numbers a little too high, these past few nights. That baby-faced, two-bit jester LaCroix got something to say to me?"

"He wants me to find the Nosferatu Primogen, you've heard of Gary? LaCroix thinks he's underneath Hollywood and that he's in possession of... well, something LaCroix wants. He said you might be willing to help."

He leans back in his chair, eying me.

"Really, now? LaCroix must be desperate if he's lowered himself to consorting with the sewer rats. And asking for my help, of all people. He's either drowning in his own political cesspool or he's got the nerve of a pachyderm."

"Both, I'm coming to believe."



"I don't doubt. I understand you helped the group of layabouts that hang around the Last Round with the plague that's been ravaging downtown, so I'm inclined to offer you a hand, despite your allegiances."

"Thank you."

"However... call me old-fashioned, but this is my barony and as is tradition, an exchange of gifts must be made between dignitaries."

There's a pause while I squint and raise an eyebrow.

"I'm a dignitary?"

"You've been here five minutes and haven't told me to bow before the Camarilla yet. I'm willing to put you on the list."

I half smile. "What's the exchange?"



"Information for a favor. Last week I paid for a certain item - a movie - and this evening I got an email saying that the seller is ready to deliver it. Unfortunately... he's become a bit paranoid all of the sudden." Isaac's voice becomes notably more annoyed. "Won't meet me in person, won't drop it off, won't even answer his phone. Say's he'll send the location of the pickup to a computer in the nearby internet cafe tonight. I'm sure you see where I'm going with this."

"You think it's a trap, so you're sending Camarilla fodder to the drop point. Worst case scenario, two birds with one stone, right?"

He shakes his head.

"Speaking of paranoia - No. Simple pickup's all that's involved. Go to the Ground Zero internet cafe, look for a directory named 'Josefk' and use the password 'Kafka'. There'll be an email in there that will specify a nearby location. Meet the contact, pick up the item, come back. Not too painful, right?"

"If it's that simple, why send me? And why is he so paranoid?"

"It needs to be done and I need something for you to do. As for the rest, I'll explain everything when you get back."

I frown before agreeing and standing up to leave.



"In the meantime, consider yourself a welcome guest in my barony. Welcome to Hollywood, Kindred."



I'm sure this will turn into another exciting chapter in the book of horrors that's become my life. I leave the store and walk down the street, keeping an eye open for the internet cafe. I pass an upscale restaurant when I hear someone call my name.



"Helen! Helen is that you?" She grabs me and hugs me tight enough to impress Nines Rodriguez. "Oh my god... it's... what are you doing? Everyone said... the news... there was a damn funeral what are you doing here?"

I'm surprised I do anything besides stammer.

"Sam?"

She pulls back slightly, still holding me. "What happened? Are you... you look half dead, what the hell's going on?"

"I..." It hangs in the air for a moment before I rest my forehead against hers and return the hug. "I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't plan any of this."

"What do you mean? What's going on? My god, you're alive..."

Should I lie? Do I have to lie?

"Sammy, I'm in deep with some bad people. When they're gone, when every thing's cleared up, I'll come back, but until then you can't say you've seen me, not to anyone. I don't want you getting involved. Any of you."



"Helen..."

"How..." I'm not sure I really want an answer. "...how's mom?"

Sam doesn't say anything, just stares down at the ground.

Damn it.

"Did she at least take the money?"



"I'm sorry, Helen. You know how she's been..."

God damn it, mom.

"Sam, you need to go, god knows who's watching me talk to you. I'll call you when I get a chance, take care of yourself. And mom, too."

"Helen, wait... are you sure you're okay? You don't look... right."

"I'm pretty fucking far from okay, but there's not a lot I can do about it. I'm sorry I have to break off like this, I'll talk to both of you later."

"Yeah. Yeah, alright. Be... careful. I don't want to find out you're dead for real."



Goodbye, Sam.




I love you.



I need a drink. Or a rest or... something. There must be a coffee shop or something around here.



Fuck it.



The gas station's surprisingly clean and bright on the inside, a late night talk show plays in the background.



So what if I can't really drink coffee? It'll at least feel good to have something hot sitting in my mouth.



"S'up?" He rolls his eyes and coughs. "Oh, right. Welcome to Red Spot, home of the Monstro-Chug, 72 ounces of your favorite beverage for 89 blah blah. You need some help or something?"

"Give me some of that coffee. Lots of cream, lots of sugar."

"Yeah, sure."

He turns around, talking while he fills the cup.

"So, you visiting Hollywood or what?"

"Business. Sort of."

"Well, if you get some free time you should come check out my band. We're playing the the Vesuvius tomorrow night. No cover for chicks. We're gonna ruin the place. Plus the girls there are fucking wicked."

He turns around and hands me the cup.



"Uh, if you're into that sort of thing, I mean."

"I'm sure they're the best."

I open my shirt just enough to pull a money clip from the inside pocket, which happens to be just enough for the glint of the Ingram to reflect off the merciless florescent lights. The attendant eyes it, raising a curious eyebrow.

"Hey, you should... really ask about our special."

I hand him the clip of money and take the cup, blowing steam off surface.

"What's your special?"



"Well, I'm glad you asked, baby. Seeing as how you look... interested or something, we got this special where you buy this really expensive glass of Grapple juice, you get a free pea shooter. Sweet deal, huh babe?"



God bless America.