Castle Cinema

  6:46 P.M.

  "Megan! I'm gonna take my fifteen now. Will you watch the counter?"

  Priscilla Garth tosses her wavy hair over one shoulder and smirks at her fellow usher. She shoves the popcorn scoop deep into the mountain of buttery sacrilege and scrunches her face.

  "I think anyone who was planning to come to this lame ass movie has already walked through the doors," Priscilla scoffs, flicking the scoop so that it falls over. "So we've got another bin of overpriced popcorn just waiting to go in the trash. How nice?"

  Megan, Priscilla's more reserved colleague, shrugs both shoulders and rolls her eyes. She glances over at the overflowing popcorn bin with secret longing.

  "I don't know. It's not so much the price of the popcorn. People love the experience which comes from going to an actual movie theatre. It's...Nostalgic. And romantic. People like the idea of sharing a tub of popcorn and feeding it to each other. Same principle as those old 1920's commercials with couples sharing a milkshake. People like what they like. Who are we to judge?"

  Priscilla slides behind Megan and pats her coworker's left cheek condescendingly. She cuts her eyes at Megan, while grabbing her purse from underneath the ticket counter. Her cigarettes are in there.

  "That's so cute, Megan. You actually believe in romance. Don't know why. It's not like..."

  Megan's face falls as she considers what Priscilla had planned to say next. Priscilla course corrects, blinking very slowly, and offers Megan a coy smirk.

  "It's not like there's anyone around here to fall in love with. Castleton is full of creeps. I should know. The last guy I dated...Oh god. Anyways, I'm going to my break. Don't let anyone sneak in or bribe you. Timothy got fired last week because he let some bimbo he wanted to date into one of the screenings. Forget about romance. That guy had mush for brains. See ya in fifteen. I need a smoke."

  Priscilla hustles through the lobby and out of the main entrance to the theatre. Megan looks after her with a forlorn expression. Walking over to the popcorn machine, Megan picks up the scoop and examines it, daydreams running through her head.

  "It is romantic. I think. Like sharing a strawberry malt milkshake."

  Imitating Priscilla's previous actions, Megan shoves the scoop into the center of the cooling mountain of popcorn. She also knocks it over with a flick of her hand. Frustration causes Megan's face to contort, her eyes narrowing. She mimicks Priscilla's voice and mannerisms.

  " Huh. 'The last guy I dated was a creep'. Nah, nah, nah. Such a drama queen!"

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  Priscilla races out of the theatre's front doors and heads for her car. Once at her car, Priscilla leans against the hood. She stares across the street at the local 7-11 station. She's gonna need a new pack of cigarettes, but $7.67 is highway robbery. Maybe the Casey's store off the main road will have them cheaper.

  Priscilla is so absorbed in her thoughts of cheap cigarettes that she is unaware of the darkly clothed figure lurking on the side of the theatre. Reclining her head, Priscilla blows out a large puff of smoke. The miniature cloud of pollution is made bigger by condensation from the surrounding air. The temperature has dropped dramatically since she first arrived at work. She should have worn a jacket.

  Taking another long drag of her cancer stick, Priscilla smiles wistfully. Romance. That was what Megan had said. What did Megan know about romance? The girl probably hasn't had a date since elementary school. Too awkward and annoying.

  Priscilla chuckles at her own cruel assessments, wrapping her left arm around her waist and swaying slightly. Poor Megan. She'll probably have to hire a male escort to ever get laid. Or become one herself. Poor Megan.

  On the side of the theatre building, the dark figure has crept closer, head lowered but eyes focused on his intended target. She has no idea he is there, reveling in whatever fantasy now plays through her mind. In a matter of moments, she will be his. Her fantasies can become real. And they all will feature him.

  Priscilla is nearly blinded when a loud jaguar roars into the parking lot. Recognizing the unique vehicle, Priscilla chuckles a lot louder and takes an even longer drag off of her cigarette. She stands from her leaning position against the hood of her car, bends low, and snuffs out the cigarette held in her right hand. A rehearsed smile plays across her countenance.

  A tall man, wearing denim pants and a collared shirt open to the fourth button, strolls toward Priscilla. He opens his arms for a hug. Priscilla crosses both arms over her chest and smirks. This does not stop the young man, who embraces her anyway. He lightly kisses the flesh behind her left ear.

  "I knew I'd find you here, Prissy! Looks like I timed my entrance perfectly."

  "Uh-huh," Priscilla says, pretending not to be interested.

  The young man uses a hand to turn her head and kisses her intensely on the mouth. He grins into her face as they separate.

  "Why don't you call me, anymore?" the young man says, studying Priscilla very carefully.

  "Really, Josh. You've conveniently forgot we're not dating anymore? Again. Come on, Josh. Admit you've been following me."

  "Nope. Nuh-uh. Not this time. I promise. Every since we talked about how boxed in it makes you feel. I was just in the area and remembered you usually work on Thursdays. We used to meet up around this time. I just wanted to see you. I miss you. I didn't realize you don't miss me."

  "That's not the case and you know it," Priscilla says, touching the right side of her ex-boyfriend's face. "I'm just tired of the crap, Josh. I'm tired of the other women. I'm tired of the late nights with no explanation. I can't deal with it anymore. You're out of my league and I know it. So...Go find someone else."

  "Out of my league? I never said that," Josh protests.

  "You don't have to."

  Josh caresses Priscilla's face and offers her a playful smile.

  "My card is empty at the moment. I'm all yours. I'm hungry. Will you sell me some expensive ass popcorn?"

  Priscilla releases a soft sigh and pecks Josh's lips. Romance, indeed.

  "Sure. Come on. Can't guarantee it's not stale though."

  Priscilla and Josh head into the theatre. On the side of the building, the dark clothed figure slinks back into the shadows. Anger boils his blood and he shoves the small canister of pepper spray back into his jacket pocket. In his other pocket, there is a thin blade. The blade he chose for an occasion which must now come at another time.