Post by Stella Basch on Jul 13, 2024 22:05:15 GMT -5
**This was originally titled "A Mysterious Woman (Part 1)," and was a joint CD between Danielle and Donovan Basch that introduced Stella, AKA Starr**
UCSD Bookstore
La Jolla, CA
Saturday Morning, December 2, 2017
On the second floor of the university bookstore, a large table sits surrounded by a sea of navy and gold apparel, with a banner bearing the brilliant colors of the West Coast Genesis logo wrapping around the edge of the table. The table’s surface is neatly organized with stacks of various 8x10” photographs. Donovan Basch and Danni LeBlanc, the two individuals depicted in those photographs, sit behind the table, smiling at the massive throng of fans waiting for a chance to meet them.
Perhaps it’s the seemingly endless sea of faces he’s cast his steel blue eyes upon, but when a woman of Amazonian stature approaches the table, a pair of dark sunglasses peeking out from a leonine mane of auburn hair, Donovan doesn’t think anything of it. He takes a silver sharpie, and with his devilishly charming smile, prepares to scrawl his signature upon the poster bearing his likeness that she presents to him.
Donovan: So, to whom am I making this out?
Woman: Oh, just the fact that you’re signing it at all is enough for me. I don’t need anything more….
Donovan: Are you certain? It’s really no trouble….
Woman: Please… you have a whole crowd of fans waiting to meet you. No sense keeping them waiting on my account.
Donovan casts a curious eye to his fiancee, who says nothing as she signs the shoulder of another fan’s shirt, which had once been pure white, but now bore the signatures of various other celebrities. Danni merely shrugs her shoulders.
Donovan: Alright, if that is what you want…
He signs the woman’s poster and hands it back to the woman, who merely smiles as she carefully holds it open as she walks away, her long, thick hair flowing behind her. Donovan and Danni stare at each other, both with confused looks on their faces.
Danni: Did she seem a little… oh, I don’t know… odd to you?
Donovan: A bit. But, it takes all kinds in this world.
Danni: Think maybe we’ll see that poster up on eBay?
Donovan lets out a heavy sigh.
Donovan: It wouldn’t surprise me. I suppose it’s out of our hands at this point.
Danni: Yeah. She got what she came here for.
Donovan pauses as the security guards signal for two more fans to come forward from the line. As the two fans approach, Donovan once again flashes his trademark devilish grin.
Donovan: Come on now, Nixy… like the woman said; there’s no need to keep the fans waiting….
Once again, Donovan and Danni engage their fans, standing up to take pictures with them as the event rolls on.
A Beachview Townhouse
La Jolla, CA
Later that day…
The same poster from earlier sits spread out across the surface of a long wooden table. Scattered around the poster are various 8x10” photos of Donovan Basch. The woman from before sits at the table with a silver sharpie in her hand, carefully writing the same thing over and over again on a piece of scrap paper. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail, and the harsh white light reveals the features of a woman that is clearly doing whatever she can to evade Father Time’s cruel grasp.
"Mom": Shit… that still looks sloppy…
She crumples up the paper and tosses it aside, as a door opens in the distance. The crumpled paper rolls off of the table, coming to a stop at a pair of slender feet clad in black Doc Martens. A young girl of about 15 stoops down to pick up the wadded-up ball of paper and stands, looking over at the woman with a confused expression on her face.
Girl: Mom, what are you doing?
The woman looks up, halfway through writing on another sheet of paper. The sound of her daughter’s voice startles her, causing her to scratch the pen across the paper, leaving a jagged silver line that jumped off of the edge of the page and onto the table.
"Mom": Starr, how many times have I told you not to sneak up on me like that?
Starr scoffs, shrugging her shoulders. Her hair is thick, like her mother’s, but is bleached blonde with streaks of orange and green. Her eyes clearly show an affinity for novelty contact lenses, thanks to the black and white spirals where her irises would be.
Starr: Geez! I was just curious. Besides, you don’t usually just toss stuff onto the floor.
"Mom": I’m sorry, Starr. It’s just… I’m trying to get this done so that it looks indistinguishable from the original.
Starr: Seriously? Is that even legal?
An apprehensive look takes over the teenager’s face as her body tenses up. Nervously, she shuffles her foot against the floor.
"Mom": Well, they’d only let me get one item signed. At best, they can just tell me the signatures aren’t authentic. So, you wanna give me a hand? You’re better at this sort of thing, after all.
A cocky smirk briefly crosses Starr’s face, only to quickly evaporate into an astonished gasp.
Starr: As a matter of fact… HEY!
With indignance in her eyes, Starr glares at her mother.
Starr: What? Did you honestly think I was stupid? That I didn’t know that you were forging my signature on your progress reports?
Starr knows she’s busted. She stuffs her hands into the pockets of her tattered black jeans and scrunched up her mouth.
Starr: Well…
"Mom": That’s what I thought. So are you going to help me or not?
With a pleading look in her eyes, the woman gestures toward the pictures on the table, and in particular, the container of silver sharpies nearby. Biting her lip, Starr rubs her arm and takes a step back.
Starr: Hold on a second, Mom. Forging your signature on progress reports is one thing. I’m not costing anyone any money by doing that. This… whatever you’re doing? I’m sorry, Mom, but you’re on your own.
Starr scoffs, then walks past the table toward the stairs. She makes it as far as the end of the table when she pauses, taking a step back. Her eyes find their way to the face of Donovan Basch, and then to her mother.
Back to the poster…
Back to her mother…
Starr: Mom… answer me this.
"Mom": Hmm?
Starr once again looks to the poster. There was something about his face….
Starr: Is what you told me the truth? Is he really….
Without saying a word, the auburn-haired woman looks up at her daughter and smiles, simply nodding her head in response.
UCSD Bookstore
La Jolla, CA
Saturday Morning, December 2, 2017
On the second floor of the university bookstore, a large table sits surrounded by a sea of navy and gold apparel, with a banner bearing the brilliant colors of the West Coast Genesis logo wrapping around the edge of the table. The table’s surface is neatly organized with stacks of various 8x10” photographs. Donovan Basch and Danni LeBlanc, the two individuals depicted in those photographs, sit behind the table, smiling at the massive throng of fans waiting for a chance to meet them.
Perhaps it’s the seemingly endless sea of faces he’s cast his steel blue eyes upon, but when a woman of Amazonian stature approaches the table, a pair of dark sunglasses peeking out from a leonine mane of auburn hair, Donovan doesn’t think anything of it. He takes a silver sharpie, and with his devilishly charming smile, prepares to scrawl his signature upon the poster bearing his likeness that she presents to him.
Donovan: So, to whom am I making this out?
Woman: Oh, just the fact that you’re signing it at all is enough for me. I don’t need anything more….
Donovan: Are you certain? It’s really no trouble….
Woman: Please… you have a whole crowd of fans waiting to meet you. No sense keeping them waiting on my account.
Donovan casts a curious eye to his fiancee, who says nothing as she signs the shoulder of another fan’s shirt, which had once been pure white, but now bore the signatures of various other celebrities. Danni merely shrugs her shoulders.
Donovan: Alright, if that is what you want…
He signs the woman’s poster and hands it back to the woman, who merely smiles as she carefully holds it open as she walks away, her long, thick hair flowing behind her. Donovan and Danni stare at each other, both with confused looks on their faces.
Danni: Did she seem a little… oh, I don’t know… odd to you?
Donovan: A bit. But, it takes all kinds in this world.
Danni: Think maybe we’ll see that poster up on eBay?
Donovan lets out a heavy sigh.
Donovan: It wouldn’t surprise me. I suppose it’s out of our hands at this point.
Danni: Yeah. She got what she came here for.
Donovan pauses as the security guards signal for two more fans to come forward from the line. As the two fans approach, Donovan once again flashes his trademark devilish grin.
Donovan: Come on now, Nixy… like the woman said; there’s no need to keep the fans waiting….
Once again, Donovan and Danni engage their fans, standing up to take pictures with them as the event rolls on.
A Beachview Townhouse
La Jolla, CA
Later that day…
The same poster from earlier sits spread out across the surface of a long wooden table. Scattered around the poster are various 8x10” photos of Donovan Basch. The woman from before sits at the table with a silver sharpie in her hand, carefully writing the same thing over and over again on a piece of scrap paper. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail, and the harsh white light reveals the features of a woman that is clearly doing whatever she can to evade Father Time’s cruel grasp.
"Mom": Shit… that still looks sloppy…
She crumples up the paper and tosses it aside, as a door opens in the distance. The crumpled paper rolls off of the table, coming to a stop at a pair of slender feet clad in black Doc Martens. A young girl of about 15 stoops down to pick up the wadded-up ball of paper and stands, looking over at the woman with a confused expression on her face.
Girl: Mom, what are you doing?
The woman looks up, halfway through writing on another sheet of paper. The sound of her daughter’s voice startles her, causing her to scratch the pen across the paper, leaving a jagged silver line that jumped off of the edge of the page and onto the table.
"Mom": Starr, how many times have I told you not to sneak up on me like that?
Starr scoffs, shrugging her shoulders. Her hair is thick, like her mother’s, but is bleached blonde with streaks of orange and green. Her eyes clearly show an affinity for novelty contact lenses, thanks to the black and white spirals where her irises would be.
Starr: Geez! I was just curious. Besides, you don’t usually just toss stuff onto the floor.
"Mom": I’m sorry, Starr. It’s just… I’m trying to get this done so that it looks indistinguishable from the original.
Starr: Seriously? Is that even legal?
An apprehensive look takes over the teenager’s face as her body tenses up. Nervously, she shuffles her foot against the floor.
"Mom": Well, they’d only let me get one item signed. At best, they can just tell me the signatures aren’t authentic. So, you wanna give me a hand? You’re better at this sort of thing, after all.
A cocky smirk briefly crosses Starr’s face, only to quickly evaporate into an astonished gasp.
Starr: As a matter of fact… HEY!
With indignance in her eyes, Starr glares at her mother.
Starr: What? Did you honestly think I was stupid? That I didn’t know that you were forging my signature on your progress reports?
Starr knows she’s busted. She stuffs her hands into the pockets of her tattered black jeans and scrunched up her mouth.
Starr: Well…
"Mom": That’s what I thought. So are you going to help me or not?
With a pleading look in her eyes, the woman gestures toward the pictures on the table, and in particular, the container of silver sharpies nearby. Biting her lip, Starr rubs her arm and takes a step back.
Starr: Hold on a second, Mom. Forging your signature on progress reports is one thing. I’m not costing anyone any money by doing that. This… whatever you’re doing? I’m sorry, Mom, but you’re on your own.
Starr scoffs, then walks past the table toward the stairs. She makes it as far as the end of the table when she pauses, taking a step back. Her eyes find their way to the face of Donovan Basch, and then to her mother.
Back to the poster…
Back to her mother…
Starr: Mom… answer me this.
"Mom": Hmm?
Starr once again looks to the poster. There was something about his face….
Starr: Is what you told me the truth? Is he really….
Without saying a word, the auburn-haired woman looks up at her daughter and smiles, simply nodding her head in response.
