| Soap Sins October 15, 2013 CHAPTER 65 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. LINK ONLY! Dakota's Truth Previously on SOAP SINS - Chip the producer dropped a bombshell. "I had to fire the head writer. He actually wrote a lame scene with women pushing each other into a swimming pool. It was such a cliché." - Dakota nodded. "So who are we going to get to replace him?" - "No one. The network wants you." - "Me?" she gasped. "How am I supposed to juggle being the star, co-executive producer, head writer, and find time to tap into my witchly powers?" - But Chip didn't appear to be listening. He was too busy spreading Austrian jam on his whole grain toast. "This imported stuff is great. Gotta love the nifty little jars they come in." - "You didn't hear me." - "Your life is way more exciting than any writer's. Just jot down ideas based on things that have happened to you. Get Drag to help. Dragos has got that mysterious edge viewers like. As for the witchly powers, you think you could use those to get the waiter to come back? I need a refill on my coffee." The story now continues ... - Dakota was holding her first writers meeting as the head writer but there was a storm outside and no one had arrived. The wind howled mercilessly all the way up Sunset Boulevard just like an embittered Hollywood has-been. The meeting was to take place at the house Dragos had rented himself on Sunset as he was her recently appointed co-headwriter. Dakota knew that despite the fact that she had only met her half brother recently and he was descended - on his father's side - from vampires, she could trust him. Drag, as Chip the exec producer called him, was always on her side. Writing experience was secondary. Writers were a dime a dozen in the soap opera world, but loyalty was rare. - The tall, dark Transylvanian actor/writer was seated elegantly in an armchair, enjoying his cognac. He seemed strangely at ease with the howling wind and raging storm. Dakota was becoming anxious. She had gotten a brand new designer leather briefcase for the meeting and it would be a shame to go home without at least a few pages of notes on storyline ideas. - Dragos half grinned. "Refill on the martini?" - She toyed with the gold pen in her right hand. "You knew about the storm, didn't you?" - "Perhaps." - "Then why suggest the meeting at a time when no one could make it?" - He stood up and took her by the hand. "Come. There is someone I want you to meet." - Dakota pouted as he walked her to the front door and opened it. There was a taxi outside with a grey haired driver sitting in the front, staring ahead. - The wind had stopped howling. - "I don't need a taxi." - "No, but you need this taxi. He is waiting for you but don't expect him to speak. He knows only Latvian." - Dakota reached for the compact umbrella in her bag. Dragos stopped her. "No umbrellas." - She laughed. "The only time I was warned not to take an umbrella was when I took a tour of a sanctuary for birds of prey. They don't take well to umbrellas or dark sunglasses. So much for Hollywood stars." - The Latvian started the engine. Dragos smiled like he was about to share a secret. A flash of lightning made him blink. "Are you prepared to face the truth?" - "You mean he has a story to tell?" - "No. He is the driver who will take you where you need to go to see your truth." - Dakota decided right then and there to accept the challenge, assuming Dragos had arranged for her to have a clandestine chat with someone somewhere who had a scandalous story to tell. A few minutes later, she found herself seated in the taxi as the Latvian driver maneuvered up a hill, passing the homes of a few reclusive celebrities and a girlie magazine mogul. Then they reached an iron gate which opened as though they had been expected. Dakota wondered which large rock on the side of the private road concealed the security cameras, then decided it must have been both. - The long winding private road led to a villa. The taxi came to a stop and a doorman with the greenest eyes Dakota had ever seen opened her door. It was misty as she stepped out and he motioned for her to follow him to the front oak doors. When he opened them, she realized this was no ordinary villa, but a large private hospital. It was night so it was quiet and she wondered whether she would be meeting with an elderly man or woman with a story to tell. But the room she was led to had one person in bed, hooked up to a machine. - The man with bright green eyes turned on the light switch. - The color drained from Dakota's face. In a bed, hooked up to the machine, was a woman who looked exactly like her, though she was thinner and was not wearing Dior lipstick. - "Who is this?" - Dragos was suddenly behind her and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It is you, my sister. You are in a coma. You have been since the studio was blown up a long time ago." - She shook her head. "That's not possible! I'm here." - "But what is here? Since falling into a coma from the explosion, you have been living your life that could have been. Nothing has been real, it is what could be. If you want it to be your truth, you must go back to the chapter before the explosion and change history. Then and only then will your reality be real." - "And if I fail?" - "Then you must stay here and sleep the endless sleep." - Dakota shook her head. "No way. I'm a soap star. I don't do comas unless they're in the script. Send me back and I'll change the outcome so there will be no explosion." - Dragos nodded. "There could be risks." - "I happen to be the queen of risks." - "As you wish, but don't say I didn't warn you ..." |
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