Who the Fuck is Alex Turner?

The Part With the Projection Room

The sound that came from behind us pierced the silence, and Alex and I spun around, rather unfortunately, in the same direction. My shoulder slammed into his, but we weren’t distracted by our throbbing arms so much as we were disturbed by the sound that frightened us. At first I was confused as to where it’d come from, as we’d been in front of a wall and there was nothing behind us, or so I assumed. From the little window of light where the projector shone, the black silhouette of a person was barely distinguishable. I recognised them immediately.

It was Phillipa, our projectionist. The shadowed shape of her face came closer to the little window, until I could clearly view the sneaky grin on her face. With the silver ring through her septum gleaming in the darkness, and her green hair virtually glowing iridescently behind the projector light, she cackled at our reactions.

“Boo.” She shouted, slammed her fist against the glass another, harshly loud time. Well, I assumed that was what she shouted, as the soundproof walls muted her voice.  

“You’re in the way babe! Can’t have you standing in front of the projector I’m ‘fraid. She stepped out of the hidden room, well sort of skipped, really. She had that quality to her- cheerfulness, yet simultaneous nonchalance, like she was happy about not caring. Outwardly, she radiated a sense of liberation of the mind, practically oozing with insouciance.

“Oh my god Pip! You scared the shit out of us!” I said, laughing nervously.

“Well you two were being all cute and shit. I couldn’t help myself.” With a devilish grin that made her actions seem innocuous, she carefully unlocked the door before letting it swing shut behind her. The days when she used to lock herself out and manage to cancel entire screenings because she’d left the key in the room were well behind her. “So, Lumley. You gonna tell me who your man friend is?”

She looked at him, probably struggling to make out any of his facial features due to the dimness of the room, coupled with the glasses he was wearing (which looked ridiculous). “Well, Phillipa, this is Alex.”

He smiled at her, but before he could make a move to shake her hand, she gasped in astonishment. Her eyes popped with disbelief as they finally recognised Alex’s face. 

“No way.” She exclaimed loudly, her stare on Alex’s face unfaltering. “No fucking way.”

Neither of us said anything. Instead we just stood by each other’s side awkwardly.  Her eyes began to dart between Alex and I, and a monstrous grin appeared as her cherry red lips curled up, exposing her pearly whites. Perhaps it was the combination of her dark lips, green hair and pale skin that portended to my association of her with the Joker. Or maybe it was her eccentric, yet admittedly lovable character. Or even just the sharp, evil grin that pronounced her curving cheekbones. In a week’s time she’d probably return to work with pink hair, or perhaps even no hair at all, if the mood struck. She was scarily unpredictable.

“Alex fucking monkey of the arctic fucking Turner?” She said, nonplussed by the profanity. “Is that you under those sunnies? You do realise we’re inside right? Don’t worry, the sun ain’t gonna get ya in here.”

I immediately watched Alex for his reaction, curious as to how he would handle her comments. He simply laughed, and said “They’re strategically placed, you see.”

She peered at him, stepping closer, and squinting her eyes at his cheekbone. She looked back at me too, and I guessed she was comparing our bruises. “Yeah, what’s up with that, man? Nic you’ve got like a black eye and shit. What’s up with you guys?”

“It’s a long story. They’re completely unrelated incidents though, if that’s what you mean.” I said, wishing she hadn’t brought it up.

“Right. Right, right, right. So like uh, what’s the dealio here?” She asked, raising a carefully shaped eyebrow and twiddling her fingers at us.