Chapter Text
CHAPTER 1
Rio Vidal sat down at her kitchen table with a glass of cannabis infused soda. She swept her black hair over her shoulder as she had misplaced her hair tie. Her brown eyes sweeping the space once more before finally giving up on its whereabouts.
Rio’s agent Lilia Calderu, an old woman with more experience in the business than anyone could ever hope to have, had sent her the draft of a script for the interview tomorrow. Rio appreciated being able to preview the content, and this interview was going to be one of her favorites, unhinged.
Thirst Tweets. That’s what the kids were calling them these days. Rio wasn’t particularly old but she wasn’t one of the 20 somethings running around using the latest terms. She smirked as she opened the doc with screenshots of social media post after social media post – all discussing what people dreamt about doing to her.
She skimmed the usernames first, entertained, and then a bit alarmed at the creativity of her fans. She rolled her neck as she scrolled back to the top ready to read. Her eyes flicking quickly over the words, her eyes crinkling. Wow. How many people wanted her to “rail them” or run them over with a car?
She snorted. Sometimes, even when she prepped for these interviews, things had a tendency of slipping from her brain to her mouth. Rio bit her lip as she read a particularly good one and snorted.
Oh how she wished they knew that she didn’t want to dominate others, but that she wanted to be dominated herself. She sighed, everyone was always so disappointed with that fact in real life. The fact that the characters she played weren’t much like her real self seemed to really underwhelm people.
She skimmed the next few.
Please Rio Vidal, stab me with a knife.
Please Rio Vidal, drown me in your bathtub.
I know what Rio Vidal can do with my holes...
Rio continued to read, her responses coming to mind as she wondered what might be too unhinged for this media outlet. She looked back at the top of the page and saw it was with Rain Media Group and shook her head as she took another sip of her drink. Rain wouldn’t mind her unfiltered responses, they would capitalize on it.
She made a few notes, but her eyes froze as she made it to the next post. The profile image seemed to be of a beautiful woman, a very beautiful, mature, woman.
Agatha Harkness, @downyourroad: Fuckkkk. Miss Vidal! I want to remain respectful, but how can I when you look like THAT? I don’t want to sound too crazy, but gods, bend me over my couch and spank me already.
Rio’s smile widened, she clicked the link to the actual post and navigated to the woman’s profile picture. Her mouth opened slightly. Fuck, she was beautiful. Menopause had hit her with a beauty stick. It didn’t look like she altered much of anything. Maybe there was some light botox or filler usage, but Rio had to admit, the slight lines on her skin really did something for her. She flipped through some photos and took notice of the way this woman’s hands were always dancing in every image. Rio whistled low. Damn, how she would like this woman to bend her over her own couch and show her what those fingers could do…
She took another sip of her drink. Agatha , what an interesting name. Sounded witchy, and she loved witchy things. Her eyes glancing around at her decor, she wouldn’t mind adding more flair to her space. Her case of crystals sat prominently near the entrance to her kitchen, a good location for her since she spent a lot of time in this space.
Her eyes looked about. While she had been able to afford a home, being a woman of mixed race in Hollywood meant that she didn’t always get paid the same as her peers. Her house was modest and close as possible to where the interviews and studios were located, but it certainly wasn’t the sprawling mansions of her peers. She was lucky she even had a yard at all for her dog. She had thought making it big would mean her art would one day afford her any type of life she wanted, how that had been far from the truth.
She leaned back in her chair, tipping it on its feet, something her mother had tried to train out of her at an early age, and eventually had just given up and told her that if she wanted to split her head open, that it would be on her own medical bills.
Her eyes devoured Agatha Harkness’s posts before remembering she was supposed to be working.
She left the page open behind another window so she could come back to it later, and went back to the finer details of tomorrow's press event. Her head tilted when she saw information she had missed. She was going to be creating fake profiles to talk to some of the thirst commentators, her mind drifting back to Agatha, she would be fun to respond to.
She finished her drink and closed her laptop. She needed to go to sleep and get her beauty rest for tomorrow– unfortunately with Agatha’s cheekbones in her mind’s eye, she knew when she found her bed, she would be doing very little sleeping.