Fatale

A strange man waits outside a motel room. Buttoned up but nervous, he fidgets as a stunning, young, dark haired woman opens the door and greets him. They exchange niceties and introductions as she lets him in and he makes some inquiries about “getting started”. The girl, slightly put off, does as is expected. Moving towards him, undressing, letting him take her in his arms. Yet, he becomes aggressive, the two moving into a physical altercation, landing them on the ground, rolling around in the shag carpet. Both struggle, both grunt, both becoming more alive to the moment until with one final, mutual squeal, they both go still. Lying, unmoving on the ground, blood slowly pooling around them. From under the man, the girl stirs, pushing him off, she manages to get up and sighs. The opening credits roll over her folding up the body in a suitcase, deep cleaning the room and herself, bleaching her hair, ending in a flash to the title card.

Suddenly, grainy footage plays of a young girl singing on a late night show, adults cheering her on and an old man coming up to congratulate her, enamoring her to the crowd: “little Ava Edem, everyone!”. She beams, shrugging nearly imperceptibly from his touch. Watching the video is a now mid 30s Ava Edem, sitting in her anonymous but immaculate penthouse apartment. Each time the clip ends, she plays it back, studying the performance, ignoring her ringing phone. Finally, checking it and seeing “Snake”, she answers. “What is it, Tande?”. “I got you an audition, babe.” After fighting with her agent for a moment, considering her financial plights, Ava agrees and heads out to the audition, barely fixing her slovenly hair and stained sweats.

As she approaches the front desk, Ava sees a bleached blonde head, turning to reveal the face of the girl from the motel. The girl beams, checking Ava in excitedly, “I’m Lily Lu. I used to love you growing up! You know, I’m an actress too. I work at Uncle Mickey’s Saloon. It’s one of those old-timey roll play places.” “Sounds creepy,” Ava answers, brushing her off and heading into the audition room. It’s just a little commercial, nothing part. She bombs. They say “thank you, eve.” On the way out. Ava catches Lily’s pitying eye.

Home again, back to her original slovenly state, video now playing with a glass of wine and a near empty bottle on the coffee table, Ava stares obsessively at her phone, ignoring texts from “Snake” promising she’ll get them next time! She swipes absentmindedly through Raya, landing on a “music producer and content creator” who tells he “got off to her when he was 12” and asks her to drinks. She recommends Uncle Mickey’s Saloon.

She meets him there, where he waits with a cider in front of him and a pomegranate martini across for her. She smiles teresely, sits, nods her way through conversation while she surveys the room, finally spotting Lily. She waves her over, suggesting to her date they get another round, despite his drink not being finished. Lily comes over, excitedly greeting Ava, and brings them another round on the house. Ava, becoming increasingly fixated on Lily, mumbling about her ‘probably getting the part’ driving her date out for a smoke.

Lily follows him out, greeting him outside where he drunkenly pees in the ally, cigarette dangling from his mouth. Lily comes up behind him, laughing about how drunk he must be, sliding her hands around him. He’s “not sure” when he got so drunk, he says, he “barely had two drinks”. Slumped and incapacitated, Lily is pulling him into herself, telling him it’s going to be ok as her hands go to his neck. Ava walks out drink swaying in hand, drunkenly asking, “what the fuck are you two doing out here?” Quickly, Lily manages to pull him around her, crying for Ava’s help. Intoxicated and panicked, Ava manages to bash her date over the head with her drink, to dig the glass into his neck. To pull Lily away and leave him in the alley. “Let’s get out of here,” Lily purrs.

The two slip down the street, Ava disoriented and increasingly intoxicated. “He attacked me,” Lily is reassuring her. “Look at you, he must have drugged your drink.” Reality does seem to be dissolving as the city streets around Ava begin to blur and morph. “You saved me,” Lily says, kissing Ava. “Follow Me” plays as they make their way down the street, mock on the run. It’s all a blur.

Ava wakes up on her couch the next morning, her television paused, still on her late night appearance. “Hi!” Lily calls behind her, standing in the kitchen with a knife in hand and breakfast ready. “Good morning!”