Bright Lights & Glass Houses

by Olivia White

Oh… you're still reading? I know what you're thinking. You know everything about Jim but nothing about me, right? If you've paid enough attention, you'll probably have notice that I never even told you my name.

  Okay, fine, I'll tell you a little bit about myself. I was born and raised in Birmingham, an only child. Went to school there. Left school, went to Uni. Finished Uni. Moved to America. To California.

  I work in Hollywood. Nothing glamorous, I should add. I'm a freelance digital video and image technician . I've worked with some of the top production companies though. It's quite amazing really, what you can do with computers these days. Some of the effects I've created, even if I do say so myself, are infallible in their perfection. Things have come a long way these days. You could put anybody anywhere, with the right image modification tools. You've probably seen my work in some movies, but you won't know it. You're supposed to believe it, not wonder who created it. One of my most common tasks, though, is digitally recreating a deceased actor, so the continuity of the film isn't affected if they snuff it half-way through. It can take one hell of a long time though, but then I'm quite a patient person. I've done things with my life that have taken over ten years to implement, after all. So yeah, it's fun work all told.

  Other things… hmm… what else do you want to know? Oh… I've got one. When I was growing up I had a best friend called Jim. We've stayed in touch. I think you've probably heard of him (I'd be laughing now if this were a spoken conversation). I was best man at his wedding… I mentioned that, right?

  I know he only asked me out of duty. I've always been his charity case. I wish I knew if he'd ever actually liked me for me, rather than because I was that slightly weird one whom he could befriend. Was. I'm different now.

  I guess that's why I can tell people these things about him after all this time. I'm my own person; I can't be held back by that one terrible thing he did. The one that I know about anyway. Who knows what else they'll find in his floor safe. Make no mistake, I've always been incredibly grateful that he let me bask in his glorious light for so long, that he pitied me enough to care what I thought.

  And I feel guilty, sure, that I'll be ruining his boring marriage to his boring wife, taking a boring father away from a boring daughter and an unborn child, who is also probably going to grow up to be somewhat boring.

  I lied when I said I was his best friend. It felt like that, when I was with him. It felt like that to whoever was with him. He made everyone feel like they were the only person who mattered to him. Until he was with someone else.

  Who knows what else was true about our friendship? I find it hard to follow these days. He confuses me, always did. I think we can all agree that the evidence proves he's done some terrible things though, and that justice will be righteous. But still…

  I wonder if he has a mistress who'll miss him when he's locked up. At the very least, there'll be some girl working at the law firm who thinks he loves her. He was always good at leading people on. He claimed it was 'accidental'. I don't know what to believe about him any more. It's tearing me apart. It would never surprise me if one day, someone got their own back. Someone bitter, perhaps. It's amazing what you could convince people of with time and technology.

  It's okay. Don't tell me. I know what you're thinking this time. You’ve just started talking about Jim again. You’ve barely said anything about yourself... Damn, I'm good at this. Preempting things. Planning ahead.

  Yeah, okay. You'd say "You've told us WHAT you are… your job, your life, but not WHO you are."

  Well, if this exchange was Verbal, in person, I'd probably run my hands through my silky, dark hair. I'd smile at you, a flash of teeth that seems to win all the girls over. I'd adopt a confident pose, a far cry from the awkward teenager I claim I used to be.

  I'd smile at you, and I'd explain it in terms we'd both understand.

  Luke, I am your father. I'm Bruce Willis, a ghost the whole time. I'm an alien planet, really Earth. I am Jack's smirking revenge.

  Or perhaps I'd look at you, my blank face hidden by a mask of charm, and would simply say…

  I'm Keyser Söze.

  Wink.

  XIV - Fusion