A Mighty Need

After the conversation with Jess Bendien upon returning to her hotel room, Audrey had made arrangements with a hired driver to take her to Riverside Studios in Hammersmith where Never Mind The Buzzcocks had been filming for their new season, or series as the British called it. After the calls, she left the hotel and walked up the Strand and found a McDonald’s where she grabbed a quick bite to eat before continuing on her evening walk. Soon she came upon Trafalgar Square again and contemplated going back to the National Gallery but figured they were near closing. So she kept walking, soon not even paying much attention to where it was she was going; just finding herself blissfully lost in the hustle and bustle. When she reached Piccadilly Circus she made her way up Regent Street until she happened upon a Burberry store and walked in. She’d forgotten to bring perfume with her on her trip and had only her deodorant to keep her smelling nice, plus she knew her bottle of Burberry Brit Eau De Parfum Spray back home was getting low. She walked in empty-handed and walked out with her purchase less than ten minutes later.

Her feet already tired from walking, she hailed a taxi which took her promptly back to the Savoy where she more or less called it a night. After a nice long bath, she climbed into bed with just her underwear and sports bra on and found herself admiring the green chandelier hanging from the ceiling before turning on the TV to BBC One just in time to catch the series two premiere of Ripper Street. Before the episode was over, there was knocking at her suite door.

Clamoring out of bed and grabbing the new terrycloth robe that had been awaiting her in the bathroom (the maid staff must’ve supplied her with a new one while she was out) and threw it on before padding to the suite’s entrance foyer.

“Who is it?” she asked.

“Room service, ma’am.”

“But I didn’t order room service,” she commented, peering through the peephole to see one of the hotel’s butlers standing on the other side of the door, a bottle of champagne in his hands.

“It is a gift, ma’am. We were asked to deliver it to you.”

Warily, she opened the door and the butler smiled politely at her, handing over the bottle. Audrey took it and looked it over. It was a pink-labeled bottle of Moët et Chandon Rosé Impérial and a note was attached.

“Oh, well thank you,” she nodded.

“You’re welcome, ma’am. Have a good evening.”

As the butler walked off down the hall, Audrey retreated back into her suite and opened the note while closing the door with her back.

Audrey –
A little bird told me you’re pulling double duty. Enjoy the Buzzcocks.
Yours sincerely,
Stephen

“He must have spies,” Audrey laughed.

Shedding her robe as soon as she was back in the bedroom, she climbed into bed once more, having missed the end of Ripper Street and proceeded to uncork the bottle of pink champagne. Not bothering with getting back up to find a champagne flute, she took her initial sip straight from the bottle since she was by herself and had no need for tact. Turning her attention to the remote, she changed the channel to BBC Two, about five minutes into none other than Never Mind The Buzzcocks just as the camera focused on the bright-eyed smiling face of the man she would be “captained” by the following day.



It was late afternoon when Audrey arrived to Riverside Studios the next day, having spent the earlier half of it going for a swim in the hotel’s pool (she was thankful she packed her bathing “just in case”) and then having a lovely lunch of traditional fish and chips brought up to her room by way of room service. She was currently wearing the outfit she had initially planned to wear the following week that she had brought specifically for the show. It wasn’t anything special, really. Just a pair of denim skinny jeans which made her legs look slimmer than usual (as compared to any other time she wore skinny jeans), a loose fitting royal blue T-shirt she bought online that said ‘MY FAVOURITE TEAM MATE’ in white lettering, her favorite pair of The Who Union Jack Converse she had bought from Journeys years back, a Jack Skellington rubber bracelet and a silver skull necklace with a floral design etched all over it. She hadn’t bothered doing her hair and wore it pulled back in a simple ponytail and her face was void of make-up, save for some concealer and a touch of lipstick so she didn’t look completely horrendous.

She wasn’t quite sure where to go when she first arrived and found herself loitering in the entrance near the café that was located immediately inside and to the left, glancing at the menu despite having no plans to order anything. It wasn’t until a young woman, perhaps only a few years younger than Audrey, approached her wearing a headset and a clipboard.

“Audrey Woods?”

Audrey glanced at the woman and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Right this way.” The woman gestured for her to follow, and follow she did; leading Audrey into the caverns of the studios, to the places only staff and guests ever went.

Audrey had no idea where she was being lead; she assumed a green room or something. Instead she was brought to a small dressing room and told to wait. Obliging, Audrey took a seat on the couch in the room after depositing her jacket and purse on the other end of it. She pulled her cell phone out to kill time for whatever she was supposed to be waiting for, even updating her Twitter account with a simple message of, “Waiting to tape #NMTB.” There was one text from her brother asking how London was and to bring him home a souvenir, as if he didn’t already have plenty of souvenirs from all her travels. She smiled, though. She had planned on getting him something anyway.

Of all her siblings, her baby brother Austin was probably her favorite; though she would never openly admit it. Plus, he was the only one of her three siblings that still lived in Philadelphia. Her sister, Crystal, who was only a year younger than her, had been married with kids for years now and lived in Columbus where her husband’s job took them. Then, there was her other brother Eddie, three years her junior, who had just been married over the summer and was settled all the way in Sioux Falls, South Dakota where his bride was from. When at home, herself, in Philadelphia, Austin was always there to hang with when it came to family. Audrey and Austin also looked most alike, both taking after their mother in looks and their father in their sense of humor.

Growing bored, Audrey began to wonder if she had been forgotten. It had been about twenty minutes since she’d last seen Clipboard Girl. Standing up she pretty much walked around in a circle before walking up to the mirrored wall and leaning on the empty make-up desk to inspect what she feared was a pimple but was actually just a tiny clump of matte mousse concealer she’d forgotten to smooth down. Wiping it away, she jumped at the sound of the door opening and looked up at who was entering into the dressing room by way of their reflection in the mirror before completely turning around.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to just barge right in like a rhinoceros on crack.”

Audrey stifled a chuckle and just smiled, waving her hand at the raven-haired man who had appeared on her television screen the night before. “As compared to a rhinoceros not on crack?” she teasingly questioned with a curious grin.

He smiled back and nodded. “Exactly. But, yeah…I thought Bruno was in this room, actually. He and I are supposed to practice the intros together for the taping later.”

“Bruno who?” Audrey didn’t even know who else was going to be on tonight’s episode. She knew who would be on next week’s because that’s the only one she had been planning to be on.

“Bruno Mars.”

“Oh, cool.” Audrey nodded lamely. She didn’t own any of the guy’s albums but she didn’t turn his songs off when they were playing on the radio either. “I’m Audrey Woods, by the way. I’m the last minute replacement for your team tonight.”

“Oh, yeah. They actually just told me about that when I got here. I still thought Richard Hammond was on my team tonight. Apparently his voice has gone all wonky ‘cause of Bronchitis or some shit.” He stepped forward a bit and offered Audrey his hand to shake. “I’m Noel Fielding.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s nice to officially meet you, though.” The handshake was firm but the softness of his hand surprised her. It was a rather nice handshake.

“So you’re a comedy writer or something from the States, they said? Sorry, I don’t get ‘round to much reading in my downtime. But I have heard of your books. I’ve seen them in stores and a few of my mates had mentioned them to me before, saying they really liked them. I’ll definitely have to give them a look.”

“My royalty check thanks you in advance if you do choose to buy them,” she joked and he laughed.

“So, you’re gonna be on next week’s episode, too, then? On Phill’s team, yeah?” Noel leaned with his back and the flat of his very silver left boot pressed against the wall behind him, genuinely seeming curious about her or just very good at small talk.

“I was originally booked for only next week, but I guess since the producers knew I was already in town, they probably figured ‘two birds, one stone’ or something like that.” Audrey was partially leaning and partially sitting on the make-up desk with her hands gripping the edge on either side of her.

“Why were you in town?”

“You’re a nosy one, aren’t you?” she smirked.

“Sorry, you don’t have to answer,” he waved off.

“It’s okay. It’s not like I’m here on loan from the CIA to work with MI5 on some sort of clandestine reconnaissance mission,” she said, then went serious, “Or am I?”

Noel threw his hands up and widened his eyes. “If you tell me do you have to kill me?”

Audrey frowned. “Unfortunately, yes. But if it helps any, you get to choose how you die.”

“That’s well sweet of you,” he commented with mock gratitude. Placing a finger to his lips, he pretended to contemplate his death. “I think death by Fab lollies would be okay.”

“What the hell is a Fab lolly?”

“You’ve never heard of a Fab lolly?” He shook his head with disdain. “You’ve not truly lived, then.”

“Apparently not.”

Clipboard Girl reappeared just then glancing at Audrey and then up at Noel. “Bruno’s waiting in his dressing room next door to go over the intros,” she said to him before looking back to Audrey. “Do you want to go to hair and make-up now or wait until after the run-through?”

Audrey looked confused. “Uh, I don’t know. Whatever you think is best,” she replied to the girl.

“Better to get hair and make-up done after, that way it won’t all melt off under the studio lights before taping begins,” Noel offered.

“I’ll do that, then,” Audrey said.

Clipboard girl nodded. “Okay. You can go to the green room if you want. Matt Smith and Dave Gorman are in there right now.” With that she left the room in quite a hurry.

“Awesome,” Audrey remarked. “I have no idea where the green room is.”

Noel laughed and leaned off the wall, gesturing for her to follow him out of her dressing room. “C’mon, I’ll show you.”

Grabbing her cell phone off the couch, she pocketed it before shutting her dressing room door behind them so no one just wandered in and took her purse or anything like that. Sidling up beside Noel, they seemed to walk in time together.

“I like your shirt by the way,” he complimented, casting his bright blue eyes down at her. “D’you wear that on purpose?”

“Yeah.”

“Your trainers are pretty nice, too.”

“Trainers?”

“Your shoes.” Noel shook his head with a big grin and tutted. “Yanks.”

Feeling as if she had gotten to know him enough in the last fifteen minutes, give or take, Audrey poked him playfully in the side. “Brits,” she remarked in the same tone as him.

Flashing a cheeky smile, he gestured to the room at their right. “That’s the green room. I’ll see you in a bit.” Giving a small wave, he took a few steps backward before turning around altogether and walking back down the hall toward where they’d come from.

Pushing the green door open, Audrey was face to face with two men, and only one she recognized: Matt Smith, obviously. She knew full well who The Doctor was.

“’Ello,” the latter greeted with a smile. “I’m Matt, nice to meet you.”

“Audrey. You’re hosting tonight.”

“I am,” he confirmed and shook her hand.

The other guy offered his hand to her as well. “I’m Dave. We were actually just talking about you. We were all expecting Richard Hammond, but apparently he’s come down with Bronchitis.”

“Yep, second rate replacement, that’s me,” she gestured to herself with both thumbs. “But in my defense, I was booked for next week’s episode and was already in town.”

“Nonsense, you’re top shelf,” Matt insisted, making himself a cup of coffee from the Keurig on the table beside him. “I’ve read both your books. Fucking hilarious, you are.”

“Thanks,” she said, blushing a little as she decided to take a seat on the plush couch opposite the room from her.

“Did you really fall out of a dressing room at a department store with just your bra and knickers on with a pair of jeans around your ankles?” he asked, laughing, as he brought his coffee cup to his lips.

Audrey grimaced and nodded. “Yep. It was all because I lost my balance. I looked around and the entire store was looking at me with their mouths hanging open. I couldn't stand up because the jeans were tangled around my legs so I had to scoot into the dressing room on my butt. What made it worse was the rest of the shoppers that saw me started laughing and clapping.”

“This was in one of your books?” Dave asked.

“My new one, yeah. It’s pretty much a collection of funny and embarrassing stories that happened to me or people I know, mostly dealing with what it’s like to not be the perfect weight the media seems to idolize.”

“I’m gonna have to read that. What’s it called?”

“Life Beyond Size Small.”

“D’you wanna cup, Audrey?” Matt was gesturing to the Keurig. “I’ll brew you one.”

“Sure thing, Doctor.”

“Ha,” he chuckled. “Not anymore, actually. Filmed my last scene ever a couple weeks ago.”

Audrey shook her head. “Nah, it’s just like in the States in regard to the President. Once a person becomes president, they’re always a president; just not necessarily the current man in charge. You’ll always be Eleven. No one can take that from you.”

“Well, thank you very much for that. That’s very sweet.” He then handed over her coffee. “Here you go.”