Scout's Arrival and Uncontrollable Urge

I'm trying to decide what I want to write next. The obvious choice is to write Part 2 of The Life I Lead, Uncontrollable Urge. I mean, having just finished Gut Feeling, it makes sense to carry that momentum forward. That said, Gut Feeling was pretty draining to write, and I'm not sure I'm ready to dive back into that headspace.

So I'm considering tackling Scout Farrow's story next. I love this story, and I think it will be really fun. I've moved away from the immediate influence of my original story, TS13, which was more directly inspired by a specific person than this one is.

That said, tonight I'm making covers in Canva using stock photos instead of writing. It's fun and helps me visualize the story.

That's what I'm up to instead of ACTUALLY writing. I'm dicking around designing visuals. It's KIND of like writing, if you squint. I've been doing a lot of world building and deciding character dynamics and how everyone fits into the story, and now I'm almost ready to dive into actual writing writing.

So I'll be doing that next. Right now, it's 5:30 AM, and I went to bed at 12 am, so I'm kind of a little out of it. That said, I often do my best work this time of day.

I'm going to include a segment of what I'm working on to show you the general vibe.

PORTLAND, OR
SEPTEMBER, 2011

8:52 am

Scout sits on her bed, her hands resting in her lap.

Her phone is on the bed next to her, face down. The room is silent.

After a long, tense moment, she goes into the living room, grabs the Yamaha guitar from its stand, and walks back into the bedroom.

Scout sits on the bed next to her iPad, which is recording a voice memo.

She sings and plays a song she is working on, humming the lyrics she hasn’t figured out.

When she is done, she saves the voice menu to the cloud service her producer, Dustin, uses, and texts him the link.

With that done, Scout texts Jay that she is ready to go shopping.

Jay has already arranged for the artisan dress shop in Portland’s West End to be closed for her arrival.

10:17 am

Scout walks with Jay towards the elevator. She wears red high-waisted shorts, a black-and-white striped sailor shirt with a Peter Pan collar, black Keds with red laces, and a white parasol.

As she and Jay walk down the hall, they pick up the rest of their entourage.

By the time they reach the elevator, they are eight people strong.

Jay and Scout take the elevator to the left; the rest of her group takes the elevator to the right.

10:19 am

Scout and Jay enter the lobby. Scout’s entourage follows close behind. It is much busier this time of day.

As she walks through the lobby, Scout notices a young girl at the counter with her father.

The girl, perhaps six, is staring at her. Scout smiles at the girl, who waves apprehensively.

Scout approaches her and her father, laughing about nothing in particular.

This is Amber. She’s a big fan, but she’s shy.

The father says, barely able to speak.

Oh, that’s okay, I’m shy too sometimes. What’s your name?

Scout asks the girl, barely acknowledging her gawking dad. Scout and the girl exchange words.

Scout makes her feel special, appreciated, and seen. She has a gift: being able to calm nervous children and their excited parents.

It comes with being the kind of person she is.

Scout asks Amber if she’d like a photo, and the girl says yes. They pose together for a selfie.

It will be the single most important moment of that young girl’s childhood.

Both Amber and her father will be lifelong Scout Farrow fans.

10:28 am

Scout sits in the back of the Escalade. Peter, her makeup artist, is riding with them and quickly applying her standard daytime face for public appearances.

Scout sits with her eyes closed as Peter dusts her cheeks and eyelids with makeup.

Scout speaks without opening her eyes.

It’s really uncool and not at all awesome that he’s being this way. I don’t know what his fucking problem is.

Jay speaks without looking up from her laptop.

What do you want him to say? Or ME for that matter? He’s right. It’s a bad decision. I agree with him.

Scout opens her eyes and looks at Jay.

And that’s why you’re a fucking Judas.

Bitch, I’m not a Judas. I’m protecting you. I’m looking out for your best interests.

Scout shakes her head, and Peter stops short of putting on her lipstick so she can speak.

My best interests are having you in my corner, not ganging up with Rick to undermine my choices.

Jay scoffs. Peter leans in to apply lipstick with a makeup brush.

May I interject?

Scout and Jay both look at Peter.

Please. I need SOMEONE on my side.

Scout says as Peter dabs at the smudge under her bottom lip with a handkerchief.

While I agree that it’s a bad idea —

Scout rolls her eyes, and Peter stops talking for a beat before continuing.

However, I also believe that it’s important for an artist to feel heard when creating their art. If doing that song is what you need to do to express yourself, I think you should do it, even though it’s a terrible idea.

Scout sighs.

I don’t think you’re helping, Peter. I appreciate the effort, though.

Peter nods and holds up a small mirror for Scout, who peers at her own face. It is a dramatic but not unexpected look. Scout’s signature face. The red lip, the severe brows, the little beauty mark drawn at the corner of her mouth. It is how people have come to expect her to look, and Scout is already becoming bored with it.

After a long moment, she nods and hands the mirror back to Peter, who puts it into its spot in his attaché case, along with the rest of her travel makeup.

What should I tell Rick?

Scout lets out an annoyed huff and looks at Peter, who shrugs.

Useless!

She says with a laugh. Peter laughs along with her, but Jay does not.

Well?

Scout shakes her head, already done with the entire conversation.

Tell him I’ll decide on stage. How about that?

Jay puts her hands up, exasperated, and starts composing a text.

Very fucking grown up. Expect pushback when you arrive tonight, I can tell you that much.

Let him push back. I don’t care. Do you care, Peter?

Peter sighs.

I care so much. You know that, honey.

I do know, baby. You’re the best.

The disarming voice of her driver comes from the front seat.

Miss Farrow, we’re about two minutes out.

Scout nods at Jay as she speaks.

Thank you, Leroy.

Then to Jay.

I’m sure we’ll have more of this conversation with Rick tonight. Right now, I need to center up, and you’re stressing me the fuck out with this cover song fuckery.

Jay holds her hands up again.

Okay, sure. Let’s center up. You too, Peter.

Scout and Peter close their eyes. Jay opens her music app on her laptop, and peaceful new-age music begins playing through the Escalade’s stereo.

Ooh, that’s pretty.

Be quiet, Peter. We’re centering up.

Oh, right, sorry.

Peter mimes zipping his lip, and Jay cuts him a look. He closes his eyes again and takes Scout’s hands in his own.

Focus on my voice. Picture a ball of white light spinning in the air between us. As you focus on it, your —

Scout interjects.

Do we need to white light to center up in a moving car?

Yes. Shush.

Okay, go on.

Jay takes a long breath in through her nose.

Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out through your mouth.

Scout and Peter do as they are instructed.

Visualize the white light filling this Escalade, protecting us, including Leroy, from any negative forces or invading evil influences that may want to harm us.

Peter opens his eyes.

What?

Scout opens her eyes as well.

Alright, we’re centered up! Let’s go shopping!

10:36 am

An inferno of flashbulbs and screaming envelops Scout as she walks to the storefront. She smiles coyly and enters the artisan dress shop. The photographers don’t follow her into the store. They know the deal. It’s an arrangement that was established years ago. Jay sends some texts letting them know where Scout will be and when, and they keep a respectful distance and tone. For the most part, they leave her alone otherwise.

11:16 AM

Scout exits the dress shop carrying two shopping bags. More photos. More screaming. Far more screaming as fans have gathered now, and they also want photos. Scout speaks with everyone waiting outside the dress shop. She smiles. She is funny, kind, and self-deprecating. She makes eye contact. She touches arms. She touches hearts. They take from her. She takes from them. All are complicit.

11:30 AM

Scout sits in the back of the Escalade, looking at her phone.

Do you need some milk?

Scout nods without looking up from her phone. Jay looks at her for a moment, watching her tap away on her phone.

Scout.

Jay says, resting her own phone in her lap.

Yeah?

Scout says, still looking at her phone.

Look at me, Scout.

Scout looks up at Jay.

What?

They look at each other for a moment, Jay seemingly analyzing Scout’s expression.

What?? I said yeah.

You can’t do anything to him. You know that, right?

Scout rolls her eyes and goes back to looking at her phone.

I know.

I’m serious. You can’t. It’ll be bad.

Scout scoffs and sets her phone down again.

Fuck, okay. I won’t do anything to him.

Jay looks at her again, then opens her leather attaché case.

For clarity, could you define ‘anything’ for me?

You know what I mean.

Fine. Can I have my milk?

Jay nods and pulls a red zippered bag out of the attaché case.

12:01 PM

Scout brushes her teeth, looking at her phone. Jay hands her a bottle of water, and she takes a swig, rinsing her mouth.

Spit. Don’t swallow. You’ll get sick.

I know.

Scout spits red-tinged water back into the bottle.

12:20 PM

The coffee shop is closed. Scout sits at a table with a handsome young man, an actor named Jeremy Frances. They ignore the photographers who snap pictures through the window. They smile, laugh, and appear to be having a lovely time.

Anyway, so that's an example of what I'm doing with this story. Let me know if you have any thoughts. I'd love to get some feedback!

Alright, until next time, make mine Marvel! Excelsior!