Unnamed TV show pilot, part 2:
Wednesday, December 18th, 2019: 8 PM.
Catherine’s apartment, Washington street, Brooklyn borough, New York.
Catherine enters her apartment followed by Erin, both drenched, she quickly throws her grey fur coat on the coat hanger by the door where she also leaves her boots and bags, disposes of her phone and keys on the chestnut oak credenza swiftly hitting the light switch right above it. Although Catherine’s apartment wasn’t the most luxurious on the market, she had done a great job decorating it. As soon as you set foot into it, you’re hit with the aroma of a Vanilla bean candle burning beside a plump white L sectional couch facing a 32 inch LED TV. On either side of the couch, you’ll find two grey candlestick lamps and an abundance of decorative pillows and throw blankets. The monochromatic grey decor complements the deep red brick walls that Catherine covered with feminist empowering paintings and vibrant quotes from her favorite artists, adding onto its rustic charm and contrasting the high windows that offer an amazing view of the glistening metal and granite goliath that is the Brooklyn Bridge and of the nightly New York scenery.
“ Your apartment is really nice “ pointed out Erin.
“ Thank you, I love creating a safe haven for myself, away from the hustle and bustle of downtown NewYork. Well, consider yourself at home; you can dry off in the bathroom it’s the 2nd door to the left. I’ll grab you some warm pajamas, we’re about the same size “ replied Catherine, knowingly lying about that last part.
“ Thank you so much for offering to let me spend the night, and for missing your flight to help me “ uttered Erin, clearly touched by Catherine’s genuine good heart.
Catherine isn’t usually one to welcome strangers into her apartment with open arms but something about the way Erin looked at her at the airport moved her, she could recognize that look of fright and despair anywhere. She was once there a few years ago and was saved by a kind stranger so she promised herself to pay it forward one day, and today was that day.
Catherine and Erin sat facing each other on the white couch, each holding a giant mug of Camomile tea that Catherine had freshly brewed. Silence haunted the apartment and tension arose once more; all you could hear was the sound of Catherine’s spoon caressing the sides of her eggshell white ceramic mug as she stirred her tea, Erin’s heavy breathing, and in the distance the sounds of Brooklyn’s nightlife. A million thoughts raced through Erin’s mind like a tornado of emotions, flashbacks, and conflicts. Where does she start? how much can she actually confess without putting this kind stranger in danger as well? and most urgently, where is he? has he caught on to her? oh god … did he follow her here?. PEEP-PEEP-PEEP, the loud beeping of the Microwave timer interrupted Erin’s train of thoughts, or rather completely crashed into it, awakening her from her anxious hallucinations. Erin jerked her head towards the Microwave like a psychiatric patient who was violently pulled out of a trans.
“I’m heating up some leftovers, want some?” asked her Catherine gently, playing into the hostess role.
“ I’m good, thank you “ answered Erin, burying her unsettledness deep down her hot beverage while clearly struggling to disassociate from her racing thoughts. Having noticed how distant Erin seemed, Catherine blurted out, fixing her inquisitive gaze into Erin’s deep blue eyes: “ Tell me everything. I want to know your story”.
Erin pulled together what little courage she had left and fumbled her words, struggling to piece together a coherent narrative: “ Well … my name is Erin Collins, I’m 23, originally from Salem, Virginia. I moved to Orlando Florida a few years ago to pursue my business administration degree at Valencia College. My twin brother Fred Collins died in a car accident back in 2012 … or so we thought … “.
At this point, Erin’s eyes welled up in tears, it was clear that she had gone through a lot and that it’s taking all of her strength to open up. Touched by her aching, Catherine gently grabbed Erin’s forearm to reassure her, her smile radiating with warmth. “ It’s okay, you’re safe now. Go on … “ insisted Catherine.
“ A few weeks back, I received an e-mail from my late brother Fred’s account. At first, I thought it was just an automated reminder for a family gathering, he had always been so good at keeping up with those dates. But then the e-mail said that it was Fred and that he was somehow still alive. I thought it was some sick prank and had no idea who would do such a thing so I reported the account. To my surprise, the same anonymous sick person started texting me from Fred’s old cellphone number. I threatened to ask the police to track his device but then he started telling me about things only Fred and I knew, fond details from our childhood, secret nicknames we had for each other, even family secrets. We continued texting for two weeks, I know it sounds crazy but at some point, I started believing what he was saying. He started telling about how he had to fake his own death because he was way in over his head with some very dangerous people and his only way out of that mess was to lay low for a couple of years. He then asked to come to my college campus to meet me to which I refused. But he was persistent, he kept asking and tugging on my strings until I agreed to meet him on one condition: I asked him to go with me to our family’s annual Christmas gathering, to tell everyone his story so we can be with him again. He refused at first saying how they’re not as understanding as I am and that they’ll never forgive him for all the trauma and grief he put them through but I eventually convinced him and promised that I’ll come to his defense in case anyone blames him. He asked to book the flights himself which was strange but I didn’t think much of it, he said that it was the least he could do after everything he put me through. He booked me a flight to NewYork and us both a flight to Salem, or so I thought. The plan was to meet him at JFK then to travel together back home. But … “ Erin started choking up on words, fairly overcome by her emotions to which Catherine reached to the tissue box to hand her a few, clearly sympathizing with her. Touched by Catherine’s compassion, Erin pulled herself together and continued:” The man I met this morning wasn’t Fred. In the flesh, he was him, he looked a few years older since I last remember him but nonetheless looked like him; the same fiery red hair, dark blue eyes, the same smile and mannerisms. However, something about him felt terribly wrong. At first, I felt deeply unsettled by his presence but I brushed it off, seeing your dead brother after 7 years should be unsettling. But as our conversation progressed, a wave of unease washed over me, tossing and churning, violently shaking my buried memories. As Fred, or whoever was sitting in front of me at the airport cafe recounted our childhood stories, a gentle nudge of fate was sending me a premonition. He kept talking about our dad lovingly, seemingly forgetting that he hadn’t been on speaking terms with him for the last three years before … he died. Initially, I thought that he had moved on from what had gone down between them, it’s not every day that a man gets a second chance at life, I told myself that maybe he had a change of heart. But then the more I let my suspicions overcome my emotions, the more unsettling his presence became. His mannerisms were almost exactly Fred’s yet different, he started smoking, a bad habit that Fred dreaded and had always fought me to quit, then he started playfully cussing and I was almost certain it wasn’t him. It was like I was meeting my twin Fred from an alternate dimension. But what really alarmed me was when a lost child approached us asking for help only to be hostilely shoved away by “Fred”. That moment confirmed my suspicions as Fred would never be rude to anyone, let alone an innocent child. I panicked, realizing that I was in imminent danger and when “Fred” excused himself to go the bathroom I searched his backpack, only to find the two airplane tickets he booked us to Kansas City where he was probably planning to forcefully take me. When he came back, I started making excuses as to why I couldn’t go with him. He was on to me, so he started threatening that if I don’t cooperate, he was going to hurt my family and friends, I was paralyzed with fear but by some mysterious force, I summoned enough courage to run away from him. He chased after me but I managed to run outside of our terminal, into the rain where I lost him, and then to terminal 5 and that’s where I found you. “ Erin sighed in relief, feeling a weight put off her chest, she looked up from her mug to find Catherine looking at her dumbfoundedly. “ I don’t know what to say “ mumbled Catherine “ I’ve always been fascinated by mystery novels and your story sounds like something that should only exist in one. Look I really sympathize with your story, you’ve gone through an experience nobody should ever go through and I’d love to help but I’m just a performer and I … “ before she could finish her words, Catherine was cut off by a ringtone. Erin and Catherine turned to see Erin’s phone buzzing with its blue screen all lit up. Neither of them was glad to read what was displayed on the screen: Incoming call: Fred.