Supporting Cast
"Not Your Girlfriend"
Feeding
Frankie and London wake up in the evening and go looking for food. London finds a prostitute dockside and saunters over.
SANDY: "And what are you looking for, honey?"
LONDON: "Answers."
SANDY: "'Fraid I don't have any of those."
LONDON: "What you have'll do. How much?"
SANDY: "I start at twenty. You got a car?"
London shakes his head, and leads her to an alley between two fishing canneries. Then he turns off the charm and takes a bite... and maybe a little more blood than usual. He's going to need it.
He leaves fifty bucks in her pocket.
Frankie, meanwhile, sneaks up on a lone sailor keeping watch on a small ship and grabs him from behind.
4th Street
Next order of business is to stake out the stretch of 4th Street that cuts through Redwood. After an hour or so, they spot Trip9 walking along. Before, they've always seen him in Brimstone's shadow; by himself, he walks a bit taller, looks like he owns the damn street.
They split up to follow him, London trailing further behind while Frankie skulks in the shadows close to Trip. Fortunately, her quarry doesn't notice her. Unfortunately, a few young toughs warming themselves over a trash fire do. They start shouting lewd suggestions and walking towards her.
Frankie could tell them to just walk away... but she doesn't. Instead, she slips into the mouth of the alley, tells two of the jerks to start hitting each other, and begins pounding the other two. After a minute or two of senseless brutality, she tackles one and drinks him to the edge of dry.
Across the street, London mutters to himself.
LONDON: "If he's dead, you're getting a much longer speech."
Fortunately, London's kept an eye on Trip while Frankie's been playing with her food. She rejoins him, and they see the young man stop at a rundown but well-secured little apartment building. The entrance is lit almost entirely by the glow of the keypad.
London manages to get a look at the code Trip9 enters, but he misses the first digit. With a last look over his shoulder, Trip9 goes inside.
After checking the place out for a few minutes, London and Frankie decide to just use the callbox. After talking to Trip9's heavy breathing for a moment, they're buzzed in.
By the time they reach the end of the foyer, the elevator is already waiting for them. When they enter, all but the fifth floor button has been covered over with electrical tape.
FRANKIE: "I don't like this."
LONDON: "You're just saying that because the last elevator we got in disappeared on us."
Brimstone's Office
Brimstone's office is long and dark. Bookshelves and animal trophies line the walls. There's a big, mahogany desk, but Brimstone himself is seated on an executive-style leather couch in front of it. He gestures to the chairs across from the couch.
BRIMSTONE: "Have a seat."
LONDON: (sitting) "Didn't realize you were so much of a reader."
BRIMSTONE: "I like to keep up."
Out of the corner of his eye, London notices that one of the bookshelves is entirely back issues of Reader's Digest. He smirks a little.
BRIMSTONE: "Now, son, what are you doing here?"
LONDON: "Some of what you said last time made some sense. So let's say we're looking for work."
BRIMSTONE: "Hmph. I might have something for you, at that. You remember Tony?"
LONDON: "Antoine. Yeah."
BRIMSTONE: "Seems to me mighty suspicious that he ended up in the lair of a stinking vampire."
LONDON: (feigning innocence) "I thought you had a truce."
BRIMSTONE: "Your kindred aren't exactly trustworthy creatures. And some of my merchandise is still missing. Two kilos worth. The police must have taken it off Tony, but it never got reported."
LONDON: "So what do you want from us?"
BRIMSTONE: "You've got friends I don't. I've seen you with that priest."
FRANKIE: "He's no friend of ours. He made that very clear."
BRIMSTONE: "Keep that in mind, then. It'd be worth a little money to me to find out where my merchandise is... and who set up that arrest in the first place."
LONDON: "How much?"
BRIMSTONE: "A thousand dollars, let's say. You can have a hundred now... walking around money."
LONDON: "There better not be any surprises like last time."
BRIMSTONE: "I'm hurt."
LONDON: "I just like to know who I'm dealing with. Or," (he looks significantly at Brimstone) "what."
Brimstone leans towards London and starts to smile... but then his lip curls wrong and he lets out a strange, low growl. London tumbles backwards in his chair. And that's when he realizes what's been wrong the whole time.
Frankie laughs as London pulls himself back up.
LONDON: "Hey, he didn't just do that to you."
BRIMSTONE: "Don't mess with me, boy."
London just looks at him. Then he and Frankie stand up and head out.
As they step into the elevator, London looks at Frankie and whispers.
LONDON: "It wasn't the vampire....it was him. He killed those women."
London's memory is perfect, see. And he remembers Bones telling him that some of the old ladies were snatched in broad daylight. Vampire couldn't have done that. Looks like Brimstone created the problem himself... and managed to con the Kindred in the process.
Back on the street
When they get back to the car, they realize that the tires are gone. And the hubcaps. London glares at nothing in particular.
LONDON: "This reminds me. We need to talk about subtlety."
FRANKIE: (smiling) "Whaat? I had to get rid of those guys, before Trip9 noticed."
LONDON: "You could have just told them to walk away."
FRANKIE: "You want to get a cab? We can afford it."
London looks at Brimstone's money.
LONDON: "Sure. Although I did drop fifty dollars on a prostitute earlier this evening."
FRANKIE: "You didn't take it back when you were done?"
She jabs him in the shoulder, still smiling.
FRANKIE: "What am I going to do with you?"
LONDON: "What if she has kids?"
FRANKIE: "She's probably just a junkie."
LONDON: "Junkies have kids. Like your mom."
They look at each other a moment.
LONDON: "Sorry."
FRANKIE: "No, no, it's completely true."
And she doesn't stop grinning.
Rose Red
The kids arrive at Rose Red with the intention of setting up a meeting with Leon, but London gets put to work hauling in lights and stage parts. He manages to stop by the payphone, though.
LEON: "You got something for me?"
LONDON: "Only questions, but we're making some progress. Feel like stopping by for a drink?"
LEON: "Sounds peachy. Have somebody warm for me."
Leon hangs up.
LONDON: "I really have to be more careful with my idioms."
After moving crap around for a half hour, London sits down at a table near the back with Frankie. Leon swaggers in.
LEON: "Hey, London. Hey, babe."
He looks dubiously at his gin.
FRANKIE: "Not what you'd like, I know, but we have to work here."
LEON: "Understood; can't eat where you shit."
LONDON: "You know anything about the guy Brimstone waxed? The kindred?"
LEON: "Name was Cassius. Real old fart; came over around the same time as the Prince and the Monk."
LONDON: "Old buddies, then?"
LEON: "Not that I've heard."
LONDON: "I don't get why he'd start messing with the Masquerade, though."
LEON: "Older kindred... their blood thickens up. Clogs their brains, you ask me. If they don't settle down for a nap, like we all hope they do, they start getting crazier, feeling like nothing can hurt them. When it gets worse, sometimes they take to snacking on us."
FRANKIE: "And then...?"
LEON: "And then the boys and I drag 'em in front of the Prince. And maybe a few other elders, if he wants to do things all legitimate-like. Then the violator gets killed. Or, if they like him, just a stake through the heart."
LONDON: "That's not what happened with Cassius, though."
LEON: "Cassius got out of hand real fast. By the time we realized something was going on, the humans had already brought in a hired gun. Brimstone."
LONDON: "There's more to him, isn't there?"
LEON: "Sure, but your guess is as good as mine what it is."
LONDON: "Indulge me."
LEON: "You ever heard of a... werewolf?"
LONDON: (frowning) "For real?"
LEON: "There are some strange things out there."
FRANKIE: "The Prince know about that?"
LEON: "Oh, sure. He talks to witches and oracles and shit."
LONDON: "A werewolf... how do you kill something like that? Silver?"
LEON: "I'd try a lotta bullets, first. You want to kill Brimstone, though..." (he leans in, smiling) "...I could cut you in, yeah?"
LONDON: "There a plan?"
LEON: "Not yet. That'd be why you're finding out where he lives. You'll want to be quick about that, too."
LONDON: (not amused) "We're working on it. Thanks for the talk."
LEON: "Any time."
FRANKIE: (smiling) "See you later, Leon."
LEON: "Later, babe."
Leon wanders over to the bar and orders another drink, leaving London and Frankie to consider what they've learned.
FRANKIE: "Brimstone knows what we did to the Monk."
LONDON: "Yeah. And there's one piece of this we haven't checked out, yet."
The YMCA
London and Frankie break into the YMCA. They walk past the quietly rippling pool and the stinking showers. They find the locker room, and the locker they were looking for.
LONDON: "Shit."
Wrapped in several layers of paper and plastic, sitting on top of an old swimsuit, is two kilos of wholesale heroin. They move it to another locker and get out.
Rose Red - The Concert
The next night finds Frankie running the downstairs bar with a staff of teenybopper helpers called in from Blitz, and London helping tune a guitar for Billie of Will Play For Food while he waits for the doors to get opened. Jacqueline Hyde and the headline act, Finish Him! are lurking somewhere backstage.
London feels his skin crawl, and suddenly plays a chord very wrong to get Frankie's attention. Leaving the instrument for Billie to inspect, London meets Frankie a few yards from the bar.
LONDON: "There's a vampire around here."
FRANKIE: "More than one."
LONDON: "Shit."
BONES: (via headset) "Alright, we're gonna start letting people in, now. I can see a couple troublemakers already."
London and Frankie share a look.
LONDON: "What are we looking for?"
BONES: (via headset) "You'll know when you see them. Just don't ask 'em how the last Reich went."
LONDON: "Joy."
Will Play for Food doesn't have much of a stage presence, but they sure can play. If they're a little slow for some of the audience, well, that's why London's there to keep things under control. That and the small time dealers he keeps throwing out.
There are definitely Kindred in the audience, but none London or Frankie recognize easily. Well, except for Leon. He must've picked up a flyer last night.
Pretty soon, the lights are dimmed for Jacqueline Hyde to get themselves on stage. Slowly, a blue spot emerges on a beautiful woman. Her hair is dark and curly, and her skin. She's wearing a black tank with "RIOT GHUL" splattered proudly across the front. She begins a slow, soft song about love and suspicion. It's quiet, and it's sexy, and even the most hardcore members of the audience watch in awe.
There's also a bass guitar around her neck.
Yep, it's her. The woman who made out with London in the back of a bus and then tore open his neck.
LONDON: "Fuck. Me."
There's a thud, and then the guy London's putting down hits the upper floor railing. We can see Jacqueline Hyde playing on down below, just finishing their first song. The woman fronting the band smiles over her microphone.
HER: "It's great to be here tonight. We are Jacqueline Hyde, and that... well, it was an old Carpenters number." (audience laughter) "What say we bring things up a few beats per minute?"
She slides her guitar into position and starts into a much harder number.
HER: (singing) "Pray to all your long lost demons and justify your means...."
London smacks the man across the face.
HER: (singing) "Kids sure like the devil these days and I'm the devil with a black dress on...."
A tiny drop of blood appears in the man's nostril. She twitches, and looks up. For a moment, she catches London's eyes, and then she's back into the song.
HER: (singing) "Did you believe it 'cause I said so? Did you believe that it was true? Angel, I sure lied to you."
London lets the man down.
LONDON: "Now you walk back over to that bar, asshole, and you leave a decent tip."
He goes back downstairs to the bar Frankie's running. She greets London with a glass of gin and a wicked grin.
FRANKIE: "So, she plays..."
LONDON: "Fuck off."
FRANKIE: "But that's her, right. She..."
LONDON: "Don't, alright."
FRANKIE: "What?"
Frankie eases around the bar to rest a hand on London's arm, but he bats it aside.
FRANKIE: "London...don't you want to ask her..."
LONDON: "No."
FRANKIE: "...you could find out why..."
LONDON: "No."
FRANKIE: "Don't you want to..."
LONDON: "Shut the fuck up, Frankie."
They sit in terse silence, for a moment, as the band plays on.
FRANKIE: "She's pretty."
LONDON: "Fuck."
As Finish Him! takes the stage, the mosh pit starts to form back up. The predators in the audience have begun separating their prey from the herd, getting ready to take them home or bleed them out.
Meanwhile, Leon's clearly already had someone to drink. London grits his teeth and tells the Ratcatcher to quit choking a neo-Nazi.
LEON: "--and have some respect for the suffering of God's chosen people."
LONDON: "Hadn't pegged you for Jewish."
LEON: "I'm not. Had a nice aunt back home, though."
Meanwhile, the backup singer from Will Play for Food is on the floor and getting into some kind of a fight with a punkette. As London looks over, Frankie gestures that she'll take it. London raises an eyebrow, but he's got other fights to keep a lid on.
Frankie pulls the women apart.
FRANKIE: "Now, now ladies."
The punkette spits, but stands down. Rachel the backup singer, though, just recoils into a wrestler-type stance. And then she growls. Frankie can't hear the noise, but she sees the girl's lips twist. A lot like Brimstone's.
Rachel tries to knee Frankie between the legs. Frankie grabs her knee, and pushes it back down.
FRANKIE: (inadvertantly over the headset) "Stay away from my groin, bitch."
At that moment, London's blocking a much more direct kick to the balls from an overweight drunk.
LONDON: (into his headset) "Good night for the crotch."
LEON: "Yeah, baby!"
London spares him half a look.
LONDON: (into his headset) "There's trouble by the bar, Bones. I'm taking care of it."
He starts forcing his way through the crowd.
Rachel tackles Frankie and drives her too-sharp nails into the vampire's shoulder. The razors hidden in her braids glitter unpleasantly. Frankie kicks her off...
...and into London's path. London ducks one sweep of Rachel's claws, but takes a nasty nails-first jab into his belly.
LONDON: "Fuck. That....was a new shirt."
He calls on his blood and makes the girl listen.
LONDON: "Walk away. Right now."
Rachel stares a moment, relaxes, and turns around. Right into the mosh pit... and Frankie's fist. She growls and swings back.
LONDON: "Don't hit Frankie."
He grabs Rachel's arm and twists it into a bad position, then hands her over to Billie, who's just managed to force her way through the crowd.
BILLIE: (rolling her eyes) "Sorry, she usually doesn't do this at gigs."
LONDON: "You alright?"
FRANKIE: "Yeah. You?"
LONDON: (pokes into his stomach) "I will be." (into headset) "Bones, Tristan... cover the house for us."
Leaning on each other for support, they stumble off the dance floor.
Backstage
London and Frankie go backstage to wash themselves off in the work sink and look for spare clothing.
At that moment, London's sire comes around the corner and hits eye level with his bare chest.
HER: (eyes still on his chest) "Uh, hi."
LONDON: "Hi."
HER: "You're looking good."
LONDON: "Spare me. What the fuck are you doing here?"
HER: "I'm playing music. What are you doing here?"
LONDON: "I work here."
HER: (looking around) "This dump?"
LONDON: "It has it's charms."
FRANKIE: "Hi, I'm Frankie."
She accepts Frankie's hand.
HER: (smiling, but with her brow wrinkled) "Nice to meet you." (to London) "She's not... yours?"
LONDON: "No."
HER: "Oh, good. You're not ready for that headache."
LONDON: "So now I'm a headache. Nice."
HER: (rolling her eyes) "Don't make this weird, London."
LONDON: "How could this not be weird?"
HER: "You're doing well. And I see you've been making connections."
She nods at Frankie.
FRANKIE: "He found me in a ditch."
HER: "You've been making friends."
FRANKIE: "There are people out there that need liquor."
London nods, and Frankie walks off.
HER: "Come on, I have a shirt in my bag."
They head to the small room where her stuff is. She hands London a black t-shirt that smells like cigarettes, then lights one up herself.
LONDON: "Smells like home."
HER: "So, seriously, how have you been?"
LONDON: (bitterly) "Fine. Great."
HER: "Jesus, why are you acting like this?"
LONDON: "Do you really have to ask?"
HER: "You talk about it like it's a bad thing."
LONDON: "I trusted you."
HER: "And now you can do things you couldn't before. Did you even see me out there?"
LONDON: "I saw you. It's just another way of using people."
HER: "'Using people.' Fuck, London, that doesn't cut it with me. I know you. You've always been all 'she used me...'"
LONDON: "I used to have a life."
HER: "Is it all that different? Hell, London, you spent most days sleeping on the floor of my van - do you really miss daylight so much? And you didn't have to quit. I saw Ron and the guys last month. You could still be on the road with them."
LONDON: "It's not that simple."
HER: "No, it isn't."
She reaches into her bag for a cigarette, hesistates for a moment, and then lights it. Her eyes meet London's, with a hint more fire behind them.
HER: "You should be leading that band. You can actually play guitar."
LONDON: "It's not that simple."
HER: "Fuck, you have been making connections, haven't you? You've been listening to those city vampires, with their fucking ennui and their monster-I-am-lest-monster-I-become bullshit. Listen, they're right. They're monsters. They're a cancer. But tramps like you and me, we can move. We can stay out on the road, and all we are is a passing cold. We just keep moving, keep playing.....what more do you need?"
She rests a hand on a nearby chair, turns it around, straddles the back - and her eyes never leave London's.
LONDON: "You played a good set, I'll give you that."
HER: "They're good guys. A little too good, actually...they're going to go somewhere, soon."
LONDON: "Without you."
She looks away.
LONDON: "Daylight's a bitch, after all."
London crouches down in front of her, meeting here eye to eye.
LONDON: "You still want to try and tell me nothing's changed?"
For a few minutes, they stay silent. Being this close is strange enough without words.
LONDON: "I'm going to regret asking, but what the hell...
London looks down for a moment, and lights a fresh cigarette of his own.
LONDON: (quietly) "Why me?"
HER: "You're not going to believe me, I know, but - I thought you were special, London. I wanted to give you a little bit longer to figure out what to do. Fuck, do you realize how few of us would have stopped for that girl in the ditch?"
London doesn't answer.
HER: "It'd be a shitty world if every vampire was a monster."
LONDON: "So I'm Guy Friday from here to eternity?"
HER: (honestly confused) "Are we talking about vampirism or you and me?"
LONDON: "What do you think?"
London gets up to leave.
HER: (sadly) "I've got a phone now."
She writes a number down on a scrap of paper.
HER: "Call me?"
London takes the scrap of paper, but shakes his head.
LONDON: "Not now."
HER: "Is there... anything I can do?"
London shakes his head as he walks out.
After the show
Later, after the fights and the hookups and the bleedings and, most importantly, the music have died away, London and Frankie sit at the bar, talking. One of Frankie's temporary minions is wiping down the bar, and Billie is at the other end nursing a beer.
LONDON: "That sucked."
FRANKIE: "Get any answers?"
LONDON: "I didn't need answers. Don't know what I was looking for."
FRANKIE: "What did she say?"
LONDON: "Said it wasn't so bad."
FRANKIE: "She could've asked you first. What'd you say?"
He looks at her.
LONDON: "I've never been good at talking to girls."
FRANKIE: "You're doing okay."
London smiles a little. He puts his hand over hers.
LONDON: "Don't you go anywhere."
She leans in next to him.
Billie gets up to leave, but calls over to London and Frankie.
BILLIE: "Thanks for not killing my friend. Seriously."
LONDON: "Just keep her out of trouble."
BILLIE: "Yeah."
The Warehouse
Down in the abandoned metal shop, London sits on an old couch and plays his guitar. He picks out a slow, acoustic version of a Bruce Springsteen song. Frankie lies on the floor nearby, listening. It's not a night to be alone.
I get up in the evening, and I ain’t got nothing to say.
I come home in the morning, I go to bed feeling the same way.
As the minutes tick by towards sunrise, a scrap of paper sits on a nearby table. The one with her number.
Stay on the streets of this town and they’ll be carving you up alright.
They say you got to stay hungry; hey, baby, I’m just about starving tonight.
I’m dying for some action; I’m sick of sitting ’round here trying to write this book.
I need a love reaction; come on baby gimme just one look.
You can't start a fire, sitting 'round crying over a broken heart.
This gun's for hire - even if we're just dancing in the dark......