Chapter Text
Sobbing alone in a bathroom is really not something Callie had been wanting to do today, but here she is regardless. Just the shitty icing on her already shitty cake of a day. Her manager was probably going to come yell at her soon but she hardly cared. She yells at her all the time anyways, and Callie really needs this cry right now.
Things were supposed to be getting better today. She was supposed to do a few easy photoshoots, audition for some show she didn’t care about but was supposed to be “good for her image”, and then go home for a week and forget about everything.
The first photo shoot went okay, but on the way to the next one she got spotted and swarmed by fans and paparazzi. To make matters worse, she tripped while running from them and tore her outfit. That resulted in a serious scolding from her manager and a headache from trying to figure out how to continue the photos. She eventually figured out a series of poses that hid the damage, but looked more than a little awkward, and she could feel the silent judgment from the crew.
The delay in dealing with it meant she had to skip lunch to make the next appointment. Being hungry made her grumpy, and she ended up snapping at her next photographer. And apparently bruising his ego so much he refused to carry through with the shoot. So then she was in trouble with her manager again, which only got worse when their social media coordinator told them that there was a really embarrassing photo of her fall from earlier going viral online. The whole ride to the audition her manager yelled at her about “being more careful” and “Your reputation is bad enough!”. She was hardly paying attention though, more preoccupied with scrolling through comment after comment making fun of that picture, each harsh word cutting her. But she just couldn’t stop.
They sat around the audition building forever, Callie in the corner trying to distract herself from her own thoughts with some game on her phone. The other actresses kept shooting glares at her, probably out of jealousy. With her popularity and fame, she was more likely to get the role than any of them. Even her recent controversies weren't likely to hurt her chances, if anything they might see it as drawing more attention to the show. But she didn’t care about any of that! She didn’t even want to be here!
As the time for auditions to start ticked over, everyone started getting antsy. Callie herself struggled to push back the anxiety building in her stomach. If this took too long, she was in danger of missing her train. Finally one of the workers came out and spoke to all the managers. Afterwards, hers walked over with a serious look on her face.
“Due to technical difficulties, they’ve had to push the start back to five, and we probably won't finish until eight.” She said, matter-of-factly.
“What?! But my train is at six! And I need to get home and finish packing, too!”
“You’ll just have to miss it. We’ll pay for you to get another one tomorrow.”
“But-but I’m supposed to be home tonight! And what if there aren’t any open spots tomorrow? I booked this one like, months in advance.”
“Don’t be such a brat, Callie. This show is your best opportunity to rebuild yourself in the eyes of the public. You’re lucky they’re even considering you for it. And since you’re going to be gone for a week afterwards, you must do everything you can in the time you have now.”
Callie casts her eyes down. “Okay. Yes, ma’am.”
Shortly afterwards, she excused herself to go to the bathroom. And here she is now, crying into her knees on the bathroom floor. There is an open spot on a train to Calamari County tomorrow, but it’s not until the next 6pm one. A full 24 hours less of her vacation! All for an audition for a show she doesn’t give a damn about! She just wants a break from everything. To be able to go home to her little town and see her parents and her aunts and not worry about what anyone else thinks of her and maybe even fix things with Marie.
Speaking of Marie, she should probably text her to let her know she wasn’t going to be home tonight. She opens up her texts to do just that, when the door opens.
“Callie? Are you in here? Auditions start soon, you need to practice your lines again.” It’s her manager. She considers not saying anything and trying to hide, but you can totally see her legs through the bottom of the stall.
“Yeah, sorry. I’ll come out.”
She does so. From the unhappy look on her manager's face, she probably doesn’t look great.
“You also need to fix your makeup. What were you thinking, crying before an audition like this?”
“I..I don’t know. Sorry.”
“Whatever. What time is your new train?”
“Uhh..six tomorrow evening.”
She looks contemplative. “Hm…we may be able to squeeze more photos in there, if I can get anyone booked. Or maybe some kind of Q&A on Finstagram?”
“Whatever you think is best.” She replies despondently. Of course she won’t get a break until she’s actually in Calamari County.
“Just go get ready. And don’t mess it up.”
…
She flubs the audition. Her delivery is terrible, she forgets half her lines, and most of her movements are aimless and lame. She doubts she’s getting a callback.
The ride back to the studio is silent, but her manager’s disappointment is palpable. When they finally get back, she says nothing to her but a curt “See you tomorrow”.
Once she’s gone, Callie lets out a long sigh. This day has been terrible. But at least it’s over and she can go back to the apartment. She tries not to think about how she should be on the train, watching familiar scenery go by and getting ready to see her family. She still hasn’t texted Marie yet has she? She’ll do it when she gets to the apartment.
Haphazardly putting her disguise on, Callie slinks out the backside of the studio. It’s too dark for sunglasses, so she’ll have to hope she doesn’t run into anyone. She takes her usual route of back alleys and deserted streets, feet plodding along. She doesn’t pay much attention to where she’s going, still wrapped up in her own thoughts.
This turns out to be a bad idea, because she ends up walking straight into someone. Their heads knock together painfully, casting her hat askew.
“Ack! Oh, I’m so sorry!” She pulls away from the other person, fixing her hat while she’s at it.
“Oh, no it’s fine! I wasn’t paying attention at all!” The other responds. Callie stops to look at them better.
She’s a young woman, maybe a little older than Callie. Short, with dark skin and purple tentacles pulled into two buns on the top of her head. She wears baggy pants, a black tank top, headphones, and, curiously, a pair of dark sunglasses.
“Oh. My. Cod. You’re Callie Cuttlefish!” The other woman exclaims excitedly.
Callie winces internally, but puts on a cheerful face.
“Yep, that’s me!” She replies, even striking her iconic pose.
“That’s so cool! I’m, like, a MASSIVE fan of yours.” She continues. “Hey, do you think you could maybe sign some things for me?” She has a funny accent, Callie notices. It’s familiar, but she can’t quite place where it’s from.
“Yeah, sure.” Callie responds reluctantly. She really just wants to get home, but she also can’t risk a fan badmouthing her online for not getting what they wanted.
“Sick. Here let's get off the street. I bet you don’t want anyone else seeing you.”
She turns and heads into an adjacent alley, Callie following behind. Which is maybe not the smartest move, but she’s tired and yeah, doesn’t want anyone else to see her.
“What’s the deal with those sunglasses by the way? Isn’t it a little dark?” Callie asks, mostly to fill the silence.
The shorter woman stops. “You’re right. I probably don’t need these anymore.” She slides them onto her forehead and turns back to face Callie. Upon seeing her face again, Callie freezes.
It’s hard to make out in the dark alley light, but there’s no mistaking the lack of mask connecting her eyes. Or the pointed eyelashes, or the figure-eight pupils in her yellow irises.
“You’re an Octoling.” Callie says dumbfounded.
“Sure am!” The other woman grins. Her demeanor has shifted, her smile turning meaner, a more sinister gleam becoming present in her eyes. It’s clear her earlier fangirl behavior had been an act.
“What do you want?” Callie asks, shifting her stance to get ready for a fight. Internally, she’s smacking herself for being so stupid.
Something drops behind her, and she whips around to see another Octoling standing there. This one is wearing full Octarian gear, hair in the standard army style and green seaweed sprouting from her shades. “We’d like you to come quietly.” The new Octoling says.
“Not likely.” She responds. As she says it, two more figures drop to either side. A bead of sweat rolls down Callie’s neck. Things aren’t looking good for her.
The second Octoling sighs. “As expected-” Callie punches her in the face. She crumples from the unexpected blow.
One of the others shouts. Someone grabs her arm and she twists out of the grasp. She sends out another punch, making contact with an arm. Suddenly, her legs are swept out from under her, and her head hits the ground with a gross crunch .
Ouugh…that wasn’t good. She thinks she’s bleeding now, but she’s having a hard time thinking straight. Before she can get up herself, a pair of hands pulls her to her feet. She doesn’t even have time to process this before another hand presses a cloth to her mouth. Immediately, she feels woozy. She has time to think Hey, just like in the movies before everything goes dark.
…
Callie drifts in and out of consciousness. Everything is dark and her senses are fuzzy. She feels like she’s being moved and lights flash across her vision. Voices swirl around her head, but she doesn’t understand any of them. One sticks out to her. Deeper than the rest, familiar.
Octavio?
…
Marie waits at the train station, tapping her foot aimlessly. Callie’s train is supposed to arrive any minute now. But she hasn’t texted since this morning, saying she was looking forward to seeing everyone.
“No one has heard anything from Callie, right?” She asks.
“I’m sure she’s just forgotten.” Her uncle responds, brushing his magenta tentacles out of his face.
“I bet she’s tired, the poor dear.” Her mother says soothingly, her glowing green tentacles illuminating the space.
“Tch, can’t believe they’re still making her work today.” Her other mama adds.
“She’s a busy girl.” Her aunt replies.
Marie is quiet. Maybe she is just tired, but the Callie Marie knows would be texting a new picture every ten seconds marking her progress home. Then again, it’s not like Marie has felt like she knows Callie well lately….
She’s shaken from her thoughts by the train pulling into the station. Everyone in the group perks up, waiting as the doors slide open. A small crowd spills out, dispersing across the station. Callie is not one of them. Marie’s stomach drops.
“...Where is she?” Her uncle mutters.
The doors slide shut again, the train almost empty now. Marie quickly scans the seats, but none of the few remaining passengers are Callie.
“I’m going to call her.” Marie says quickly, fumbling for her phone. As it rings and rings, the others talk.
“Maybe she missed her train?” Her aunt ponders.
“But then why hasn’t she texted?” Asks her mama.
“You know how forgetful she is about these things.” Her uncle says, but there’s a clear tone of worry in his voice.
“Heeeyyyyy! It’s Callie! If you’re hearing this then I’m not here right now. Or I didn’t get to my phone in time. Or maybe I’ve lost it again! Leave a message if it’s urgent biz and I’ll catch ya later!” There’s a beep. Marie doesn’t bother with the voicemail, just shaking her head.
“I’ll try calling too.” Her uncle says, pulling out his own phone.
“Alright.” She replies. She crosses her arms around herself, fidgeting.
“Hey.” Her mama says to her, putting an arm on her shoulder. “Look at me, sweetheart.” Marie obliges, staring into her kind periwinkle eyes. “Your cousin is fine. If something bad happened, we would have gotten a call from her management.”
Her mother moves behind her, also resting her hands on Marie’s shoulders. “Take deep breaths dear. I know you worry but it doesn’t help the situation.”
She tries to take her mother’s advice, inhaling and exhaling repeatedly.
“She didn’t pick up for me either.” Her uncle interrupts.
“I’ll go to Inkopolis tomorrow then.” Marie declares.
“You don’t need to do that. We’ll call her management and see if anything happened. There might have been a schedule issue and she missed her train.” Her aunt counters.
“Then why hasn’t she calle-” She stops and takes another breath. “I just want to go myself, and see if she's alright. I’m sure she’d like to see me earlier at least, if her trip got delayed.”
“...Alright. Go get a ticket now, and then we’ll all go back to your uncle's place for the night.” Her mama relents. Marie smiles at her a little, but despite her best efforts, the knot of worry in her chest remains.
…
The next morning, Marie is on the train again. The revelation from Callie’s management about her audition being pushed back had dispelled some of her anxiety last night, but when she still hadn’t called or texted by the morning, it came back in full force.
Sure Callie was forgetful, but she wasn’t that bad that she wouldn’t text them for this long. Not unless something was wrong. What exactly was wrong, Marie had no idea, and she resisted considering the possibilities for her own sanity. No use in torturing herself with images of terrible things that could have happened to her cousin.
The ride to the city takes entirely too long, but once she finally arrives she practically runs to their apartment. Wrestling with the keys, she swings the door open.
“CALLIE?” She calls out. No response. She’s not in the living room or kitchen or still asleep in her bed. Her stuff isn’t there either, not her purse or hat or favorite brown boots.
Marie’s phone dings. It’s a text from her uncle, reading: Cal’s management hasn’t seen or heard from her either. Any luck at the apartment?
She texts back: No
Marie sinks down onto the couch. Where could she possibly be? An idea strikes her, a last hope that everything is fine and Callie is just in some weird funk. She rushes back out the door, heading to the square.
One excruciatingly long pipe ride later, she pops out of the kettle at Cuttlefish Cabin. But she isn’t met with the relief she had hoped. Instead, she’s left with one terrible clue: An empty snow globe pedestal, surrounded by broken glass.