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18. INT. FONTANILLA RESIDENCE – LIVING ROOM – A SHORT TIME LATER

“What is she, Sis?”

Joanna’s voice is hard, and she knows she is dangerously close to crossing a line, a line that Constance Eusebio crossed (or so the Church of the Wagging Tongues claims), but just at this precise moment, she doesn’t care.

Luis is like a son to her, and she will not see him hurt.

Asistio, in a long velour bedrobe, leans back in a couch the size of an aircraft carrier. There is a smirk on his thin lips. He is amused.

“She isn’t human, Joanna.”

“Alam ko na `yon,” she replies testily. “What is she? A succubus?”

Asistio pouts, his lower lip sticking further out than the upper. “I suppose she is, of a sort.”

“What. Is. She.”

Asistio pauses, stares at Joanna, who glares at him. Asistio is impressed. He recalls tea with Euryale, and Joanna’s doing a fair impersonation.

“I made her,” he explains. “I made her to be the perfect star. As such though, she is ultimately hollow. She only reflects what the audience expects to see, what they project onto her.”

“What is she doing to Luis? Why is he getting weaker?”

Asistio shrugs, the movement like a casual tectonic shudder, a land mass heaving. “Honestly, that aspect was… unexpected. Inconvenient, certainly, but not insurmountable. I imagine, as she is, after all, hollow, she must need to fill that emptiness with something. She doesn’t eat, you know.

“In that, I suppose she’s like a vampire, but she doesn’t live on blood. Thus, I said she could be a succubus, of a sort.”

“She absorbs, what, the life essence?”

Asistio waves his pudgy fingers, beringed sausages, dancing. “Soul. Spirit. What have you.”

“And you let her loose on Luis?!” This is the closest Joanna has come to actually screaming at him.

Asistio grins mischievously, wagging a single fat digit. “Your boy is on the List, Joanna. Up-and-comers willing to go to extremes to further their career. And it’s already working, isn’t it? Like the proverbial charm.

“The ratings for Habagat are the teeniest bit from overtaking Darna’s numbers. Your sponsors are multiplying like depraved rabbits. The endorsements are beginning. Hanford, isn’t it? And Red Bull. And Smart. And Rogin-E. And Pharmaton. And Argentina Chunkee Corned Beef. And of course, Hero Energy Drink.”

Asistio’s eyes gleam sickly, porcine, and he rubs his thumb and forefinger together, sausages in unnatural congress. “Datung, dear. Isn’t that what it’s all about?”

“But he could die, Sis! And the movie hasn’t even started shooting yet!”

Asistio grins, and it is a cruel, inhuman thing to see. “You were in danger of dying the second you went into business with me, hija. Every night you get to fall asleep in your bed is one more day you stayed in my good graces.”

Joanna is not cowed. Far from it.

But she is smart. Smart enough to keep silent.

“Now,” Asistio continues, confident he has Joanna’s undivided attention. “The Lilith Montemayor-Luis Conrado love team-- excuse me, the `Double-L’-- is the hottest love team at the moment, bar none. They’ve even had enough media momentum to steal the local spotlight from Hollywood monstrosities like the Brangelina and the Ben-Jen. Not to mention the anticipation for Bukas, Kahapon Na Ang Ngayon-- for which, I might remind you, you and your talent are contractually obligated to participate in-- is fever pitch, and the script is near-completion. Offers are coming in from all over, not just for Lilith, not just for Luis, but for both of them, as a team.

“A team, Joanna. Which was what I thought we all four were. That is, until this little visit.

“So, this could go either of two ways at this point.”

Asistio pauses, closes his eyes, breathes out. Joanna shivers.

Asistio opens his eyes, looks straight at his guest.

“One: you ride this for all it’s worth, and I don’t need to tell you that it will be worth oh-so-very-much; in which case, you will have to be quite inventive to get around Lilith’s dietary habits, so your studly little boy can at least reap and enjoy the benefits of the crop I have planted, or…

“Two: you tell me, at this moment, that you want out of the entire deal, and I may forget all the potentially messy contractual obligations. A few staged scenes, one press release later, and presto, the Double-L will be no more. Yesterday’s news.

“And that’s exactly what Luis will be, in the aftermath. Yesterday’s news. You’ve seen it, Joanna. You know it happens. It’s part of the life cycle of the not-so-very-smart artista.

“Meanwhile, I’ll go to my laptop, call up the List, and find the next name there. And Lilith will find solace in the arms of a new, hungry up-and-comer, who’ll then be getting the adulation, and the calls, and the offers, and the endorsements, all those things Luis is getting right now. And whose manager will be getting the commissions you’re getting at the moment.”

Asistio looks at Joanna, weighing the silence.

“See, Joanna? Lilith isn’t the only one who’s hungry.

“If Luis isn’t willing to risk his life for money and fame, dear, mark my words, someone out there is.”

Asistio pauses, smirks. “Think about it. Even Jimmy Dean had to die to become immortal.”

He watches Joanna then, silent, and she cannot help but feel like a tiny animal being eyed by a mad, ravenous predator.

“Well?” he asks.

And, in the end, she does not need to say anything at all. He can see it in her eyes, scent it off her.

Asistio smiles, looking pleased, the Big Fat Wolf digesting both Grandma and Little Red.

“I knew you were a reasonable woman.”

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