Fiona on Fire | ONC 2023

16. three calls

Fiona's mother called her again. This time, there was a clear anxious eagerness in her voice.

"How are you? Did you shoot anything today?"

"No, just a rehearsal—"

"That's nice," her mother said. "And you're certain you can fly out in August for the wedding?"

"Yup, I worked everything out. I'll have three days—"

"Wonderful. Listen, your father and I have been looking at houses. We've always wanted to upgrade, but our income just isn't enough. We were wondering..." she trailed off.

Fiona knew what the call was really about now. "Just say it, Mom."

"We were wondering if you would help us buy a house. We worked all our lives to support you and help you achieve your dreams—"

"You don't remember telling me not to move here? You thought it would never happen, that I'd never make it." Fiona paced around her room waiting for a response, her footsteps silent on the thick carpeting.

"We shaped you into the kind of person who could achieve so much. We're so proud—"

"Maybe I shaped myself," Fiona said, exasperated. She propped herself up against her bookshelf, her knuckles going white as she gripped its mahogany wood.

"The house is only eight hundred thousand. That's less than you've made on a single movie now. They talk about your net worth online."

"I'm not your personal piggy bank, you know." Her tone was turning sour. She couldn't help it.  "You only call me when you want something from me."

"We've already signed to buy the place."

"Then it's your responsibility."

There was silence. "Don't you love us?"

Fiona hung up the phone, throwing it at the wall with a clatter. She collapsed onto her bed, splayed out on the pristine white sheets.

She did have more than enough money to provide for her parents. She was surrounded by luxury, while they had lived in the same shabby old house for twenty years. But if she kept complying, how far would her mother push it? Fiona wanted to save and invest money, to donate to charities, to put some in trusts for her future children. It wasn't infinite, and she didn't know how her career would look in the long term. She'd noticed how many actresses were cast less as they aged, beauty and youth seen as the most important assets in this industry for women.

On an impulse, Fiona retrieved her phone and called Jack McKennon. "Will you be in the US this summer? August?"

"Yeah, in New York for a bit. Why?"

"I, uh...I wanted to bring a date for my brother's wedding. Otherwise, they might drive me insane, genuinely."

"Oh, sweet. Never been to Ohio. I'd love to meet your family."

"Well, don't expect much," she joked. "What have you been up to?"

The conversation went on for an hour as they caught up, flowing with ease from one subject to another. By the time they disconnected, she felt lighter and could breathe easier, the conflict with her mother all but forgotten.

It was only a few minutes later, though, that her phone rang again. It was Lucy, her agent.

"Hey," Fiona said in a relaxed tone, dragging her fingers through her hair. "Any news about that period drama you mentioned? I really like the script, and I think—"

"Fiona." Lucy's voice sounded deadly serious. "The people who screen your mail are saying someone tried sending a bomb to your address."

Fiona's hand lept to her mouth, fallen open in shock. "Is everyone okay?" she asked, voice trembling.

"Yes, thankfully, they realized it was suspicious and brought in a bomb squad. The concern now is you. Management wants to check you into a hotel until they find who did this."

"Okay," she said, feeling numb and frozen.

"Pack your suitcase and they'll send a car for you. The police are already involved."

Fiona did as she was told, moving robotically. She could feel her heart thudding in her chest.

The car ride was an air-conditioned blur, then she was ushered directly to her hotel room. It was, of course, exquisite. There was an air of extravagance to every surface. The bed sheets were silky, and the pillows were filled with down feathers. There was a massive television and a spacious bathroom. No one person deserves this much, she thought, her head swimming.

She turned on the TV and mindlessly changed the channels. It had been a long time since Fiona had done this. She'd constantly watched TV and movies growing up, dreaming of one day being in them.

Fiona was cooped up in that room for days. She didn't call anyone. She sat there staring at the flatscreen or curled up in the bed like a tightly coiled spring. Every little noise made her jump.

Eventually, they found the culprit, and the whole story came to light.

The man had been obsessed with Fiona; his family were aware of this but didn't know the full extent of it. The police thought this was the same person who had been stalking her for months.

When the man encountered pictures online of she and Alex, of tabloids reporting their romance, he had snapped. If he couldn't have her, no one could.

In the end, the bomb was defused, and he didn't harm anyone but himself. The police had found his body in his apartment.

The news reported heavily on the case. Any time the media got the opportunity, they tried to ask her about this, to prod her into speaking about the most shattering experience of her life. She couldn't escape it.

The paranoia and distrust felt like they would never go away. She didn't feel safe in her house anymore, much less in public.

Time finally arrived for her to fly to Ohio for her brother's wedding. It was a massive relief to get a break from this world. She was tired of the LA sun, the city now seeming bleached and dried out. Most of all, she wanted to see Jack in person again.