A Delightfully Unhinged Character Interview

Character Interview

Featuring Yarik, Daddy Beck & Eren

 

Beck: What exactly are you doing here?

Eren: What do you mean, what are we doing here? You know what we’re doing here.

Beck: Actually, I don’t.

[Slowly, Beck turns toward Yarik, who is studiously glancing at his phone where he’s seated at Beck’s kitchen table]

Beck: Whatever this is, you did it.

[Without lifting his head, Yarik lets out a small sigh]

Yarik: I did what?

[Beck gestures wildly with his hands]

Beck: This! These cameras. The fact that I’m wearing—

[Beck tugs on the stiff lapel of his shirt]

Beck: —a fucking suit, of all things. Plus, you’re both here in my flat when I didn’t invite either of you to come round mine, not when I’m having . . . company later.

Yarik: None of that is actually my fault.

Beck: What?

Yarik: It was all Mia.

Beck: Oh, fuck off.

Eren: He’s kind of right, if you think about it. Mia dreamt us up.

Beck: Maybe she dreamt you up, Doğan, but I’m real.

Yarik: You aren’t. She’s far kinder than you deserve, really.

[Brows furrowing, Beck lowers his hands]

Beck: Kinder, how?

Eren: For starters, how big is your dick?

Beck: Jesus, have some common decency, yeah? Don’t just be asking me about my prick like that. You haven’t even fed me and you’re already getting handsy—

Yarik: It’d probably be half the size if Mia hadn’t created you.

[Eren reaches into Beck’s fridge for the chocolate biscuits that Beck likes to keep hidden on the bottom shelf]

Eren: Agreed.

Beck: What the fuck do you mean, you agree? Also, put those back. They aren’t for you.

Eren: You tend to strut around like you’re overcompensating.

[Beck’s jaw falls open]

Beck: Excuse the fuck out of you, I do not.

[As Eren bites into a stolen biscuit, he sweeps a dismissive glance over Beck]

Eren: Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but you absolutely do.

Yarik: You do refer to yourself as “Daddy Beck.” Which is a choice.

Beck: Because it’s funny.

Yarik: To who?

Beck: Fuck you both.

[Beck waves to his front door]

Beck: Feel free to show yourselves out. I’m done with you. The both of you. Goodbye.

Eren: You want to tell him, or should I?

Beck: Tell me what?

Yarik: Mia wrote the door away. Or the lock, I should say. We can’t leave.

Beck: The fuck do you mean, you can’t leave?

Yarik: We can’t. Not until we get through a series of questions.

[Yarik holds up his phone]

Yarik: So, you might as well sit down and get comfortable.

Beck: Well, if we’re all here then where the bloody hell is Kirill? You’re really telling me that we don’t have a choice, but he does?

[Cutting his gaze away, Yarik’s expression goes eerily still]

Yarik: He couldn’t make it.

Beck: He couldn’t—

[Beck’s eyes narrow]

Beck: Where is he?

Yarik: Not here.

[Beck sneers]

Beck: What, he’s off doing your father’s bidding again?

Eren: Daniel, just leave it—

Beck: No, I’m not gonna just leave it, Doğan. Fuck that. Where is he, Volkov? Your little writer friend locked us all in here, you say, but if I’m hearing this right, she just . . . what, let Kirill wander his arse off stage for a little privacy while the lot of you discuss the size of my—

[The door cracks open and Yarik, Beck, and Eren all turn to look at the incomer. Mia—hi, that’s meeeee—ducks inside]

Mia: I can hear you all down the hallway. The camera crew is getting a little nervous that we won’t get this done in time, soooo . . .

[Mia awkwardly strolls into Beck’s kitchen and takes the seat beside Yarik, motioning for him to hand over his phone. Instead of passing it over, Yarik presses the device to his chest, his cheeks flushing red]

Yarik: I don’t . . . I mean—maybe you have a separate copy on your phone?

[Mia lowers her gaze to where Yarik is clutching his phone so tight, his knuckles are white with tension. She aches to tell Yarik that everything will be all right, but she can’t do that. It’s too soon. All she can do is give him a gentle smile to put him at ease. The tension immediately slopes off Yarik’s shoulders, and he ducks his head]

Yarik: Thanks.

Mia: It’s okay, don’t worry about it.

[Mia pulls out her own phone and quickly hops over to the spreadsheet of questions]

Mia: Okay, this should be relatively painless.

Beck: Relatively?

Mia: For you, anyway.

Eren: What about me?

Mia: To be honest, I think everyone forgets that you exist.

Eren: Oh.

[Beck laughs so hard he falls from his chair]

Mia: I mean, that won’t always be the case, but yeah, for right now? You’re just like . . .

Eren: A neglected houseplant?

Beck: A dead houseplant.

Eren: Get fucked, Daniel.

Beck: That’s the plan, remember? Now if you all don’t mind hurrying this along because my guest is due to arrive—

Mia: She’s not coming.

Beck: What do you mean, she’s not coming?

Mia: This is more important.

Beck: More important than what? I have needs.

Eren: She probably wouldn’t come anyway.

Beck: She is. She already texted me that she’s on her way. See, right here where she says—

[Eren barely spares Beck’s phone a glance]

Eren: I meant, later. With you. She’d probably fake it.

[Beck stares in horror]

Beck: Were you not loved as a child? Is that why you’re such a miserable cunt?

Mia: Guys.

Beck: You’re worse than a dead houseplant, Doğan. You’re like moldy cheese. Forgotten. Abandoned.

[Eren makes a point to tear the plastic cling wrap wide open, so a few biscuits slip loose from the stack. Then—and only then, when he has Beck’s full attention—does he lift one of the biscuits to his mouth for a bite, his gaze fixed on Beck’s face]

Beck: You’re wrong for that.

Mia: Guys, if you don’t mind, we sort of need to get back on schedule or else—

[Eren finishes the biscuit and then reaches for another. Beck growls through clenched teeth.]

Beck: That’s it, I’m done.

Mia: Oh, fuck.

[The closest camera wobbles then teeters over from the force of Beck’s elbow hitting it as he sails through the air to drive Eren—and the commandeered biscuits—straight to the floor. Mia launches out of the way, but Yarik remains seated, entirely unbothered, as his two friends brawl it out]

Mia: Shouldn’t you stop them?

Yarik: No.

Mia: But they’ll hurt each other.

Yarik: No more than they’re already hurting. This is kind of their thing.

Mia: But I didn’t write them this way?

[Solemnly, Yarik peers over at where Beck has Eren in a headlock before dragging his gaze back to Mia. Curiosity burns in his dark blue eyes]

Yarik: What else didn’t you write?

[Mia begins to back away. Yarik launches to his feet]

Yarik: Wait, don’t go. If you didn’t write them to hate each other, but they do, then did you—have you—with Kirill, will he change his mind? Will he—wait, Mia. Mia, no, don’t just leave before you—

[The door slams shut as Mia makes her escape. No questions are answered, and the interview never airs in full. It can’t. Not really. Because no one has the answers—not Beck, not Eren, not Yarik or Kirill. Only Mia, and wherever she is, she hasn’t been seen since that day in Beck’s kitchen]

 

To be continued…

Maybe?

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