The Green Room

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In the production booth at Tonight!, Alison's team was scrambling to figure out what was happening. For some reason, when she saw the tall woman enter the studio, her first instinct was to cut to commercial, and she'd hit the button right after Johnny finished the Evening Papers bit. The system wouldn't kick over, and she found she couldn't even cut the feed entirely. A PA spoke up, letting her know that he couldn't even change the channel on the monitor - or rather, anywhere he changed it to, it was Tonight! Alison got a cold feeling in her gut and called the stage manager as she left the booth. She told him to get out of the way and not try to stop the woman, then quickly hung up and ran down the stairs.

Production assistants and gaffers smoothly moved out of the way as Alison power walked down the hall to the studio. Her auburn ponytail poking up from the back of her head was enough for people to identify her from afar, and the speed it was bobbing let them know she was a woman with a mission. With her path cleared before she even had to think, Alison hit the floor in moments and headed to the cameras. The mystery woman was behind the curtain, striding towards the guest entrance, and the camera operators were looking in that direction, not paying attention to their star. Alison grabbed the camera, intending to point it at the ground, even though she wasn't sure why. The feeling in her gut again, she supposed, but it didn't matter. The pedestal was frozen, locked in on Johnny and the interview chair. She reached for the power cord, but the hair on her arm raised as her hand got close, and she decided she'd done enough. She locked eyes with Johnny as the woman crossed the stage and took the guest chair.

Not knowing what else to do, but unable to do nothing, she headed to the green room to find out what happened to Daniel Flynn.


Johnny grinned, mostly recovered, and said, "I never know what to expect on live TV, which is what makes it fun. So, Danny - you've changed quite a bit since I last saw you. The look is fabulous, but it's a pretty big difference from rehearsal."

The woman smiled and reached across the desk. Johnny watched her hand moving in, and understood the meaning of fingernails that shine like justice. The red nail brushed his chin, and he was flooded with goodwill towards the woman. She captivated him, and he held his breath waiting on her next words. He could let his breath out as she pulled her finger away, but the feelings remained. "That's why it had to be you, Johnny."

When it became clear she wasn't going to expand on the thought, he reverted to what he was best at - schmoozing and ingratiating himself to the rich and powerful. "As Weston and I said, this is going to be an incredible show tonight, I feel it." He looked over to Weston, who stared at the woman and made no move to join the conversation. "We were just getting to introductions, and I feel like I must have missed a production meeting because I am not properly prepared. So I'm going to let you introduce yourself to those at home who may not be familiar."

The woman winked at him, and said, "Clever. Well Johnny, for those who may not know me, you can call me Anastasia, and I am the soon to be supreme deity of the universe."


 

Alison got to the green room to find all three of her guests sitting on the couch, watching the video feed. They were completely enraptured, ignoring the world around them. It didn't surprise her from the musical guest Rafael Costa, known for deep meditation and outspoken support for the benefits of psychedelics. But Danny and the science communicator, Rita Johannsen, were in a similar state. She clapped her hands loudly, and Rafael turned to her, while the others remained focus. "Ms. Woods," he said. "I assume I won't be playing, but I think I'd quite like to join them on the couch."

Alison was stopped short by the statement. What was she supposed to do here? She took a quick glance at the monitor, which turned into a long look. Johnny was entranced, which shouldn't surprise her. He was entranced by everyone that came on the show, which was probably why everyone wanted to come on the show. The man had retained his boyish good looks well into his 40s - his older viewers would have compared him to Dick Clark for that, and it was a great description in a lot of ways. The wide, inquisitive brown eyes that seemed to always be focused solely on the person he is with, the high intensity smile that made most of the women and a lot of the men he met go a little weak in the knees, the perfect hair that was somehow not a wig or a dye job, all of it added to his infectious personality to be someone others wanted to talk to, to tell their stories to. That, much more than his humor, was why he succeeded, Alison thought. He was funny enough, sure, but they rarely went a week without someone absolutely outdoing him in that department on his own show. No one - not just no other talk show host, but no one anywhere, as far as she was concerned - was able to get others to tell their stories the way he did, though.

She caught the last thing the woman said - why it had to be Johnny. It didn't make sense along with the joke that Johnny made. The joke was obvious, and barely enough to elicit a smile. Put a panel of comedians up there and give them a similar opening to joke, and you'd get fifty better jokes and a dozen so much worse they swung around to better. Put a panel of people who crack up their relatives regularly, and they would probably all come up with the same joke as Johnny. Is that what she meant? Alison wondered. That it had to be Johnny, because he couldn't make a good joke, just a serviceable one?

All of this passed through her mind in a moment, and she made a decision. "All right," she said, looking at Rafael. She grinned, thoughts going through her mind of how she could have some semblance of control of her show. "That is an outstanding idea - I think we should get all of you out there! Rita!"

The short, Black woman shook her head a bit, and looked away from the monitor, focusing on Alison. She seemed to come to her senses, and Alison's last statement broke through. After a brief moment, she smiled the crooked smile that had charmed so many, buying her an in to explain how the world worked in terms that everyone could understand. Her Alabama twang was as clear as ever as she stood, saying, "Best idea you've ever had, Rafe. Let's see if we can get Danny Boy with us, and make sure this Amazonian doesn't confuse everyone!"

Danny shushed them, mumbling about needing to watch. Rita grabbed his hand, and began to tug with all 105 pounds, doing nothing. Rafael joined her and was able to haul Danny to his feet. The actor was surprisingly short - his head was below Alison's ponytail - but his chiseled jaw and piercing eyes made people forget that. As Rafael got him to his feet, it seemed like he was seeing the musician, communicator, and producer for the first time. "Have you been watching this?" he said. "Is this woman for real?"

Rafe shook his head slightly and favored Danny with a wry smile. "Come Danny," he said, his voice taking on the seductive tones he was known for. "We are needed on set, to be part of the historic interview." Danny nodded and followed Alison out the door. Rita was next, and Rafe shut the door behind them as he left. Rita suppressed a giggle as she heard Rafe mutter, "And they say I have issues with drugs."

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