--It has been some time since the StarMaker arena's smouldering ashes finally went cool. In that time, the man responsible for much of the mess has put quite some distance between himself and any old ghosts that may haunt the burned-out building. John Michael White may have been the captain of this Titanic, but he refused to go down with the ship. As the slippery lawyer tends to do, he survived, and now sits in his office, head bandaged and knee braced, waiting.--
Andrea: What are you waiting for?
--John Michael White drums his fingers on his huge desk, the tips clicking like bone on the wood.--
John Michael White: I'm waiting for the past.
Andrea: That makes so much sense.
John Michael White: I am waiting for it to catch up with me. You dealt with Jayson Ray, but you can't be the archangel on my shoulder every minute of every day. Someday, somebody's going to find me, and barge right in and take their revenge.
Andrea: Are you sure about that? Nobody really fought to save the building, or save the shares from returning to you. If they cared that much, you'd think they would have done something about it before now.
--John looks down at his desk. He has spread several sheets across it, a mixture of densely-worded contracts and sparkly shares. One sheet has the familiar REW logo emblazoned on it, the other has an icon in the shape of a phoenix.--
John Michael White: Perhaps you're right...
--There is a knock at the door. John reaches for his cane.--
John Michael White: But usually I am.
--The nurse pulls open the door, a pair of brass knuckles having appeared on the hand she keeps hidden behind her back. The lawyer grows tense, but soon relaxes, seeing none other than Sara Sirius entering the room.--
John Michael White: Of course, it would not take long for a Sirius to find me. Tell me, has your father-in-law been returned to his asylum, yet? It's not safe, having a lunatic like that on the loose.
Sara Sirius: I'm here on business, and it has nothing to do with family.
--John gestures to the papers on his desk.--
John Michael White: Please, have a seat and we can discuss things, but I doubt I can help you. Your shares are mine, the fed is done. Everything is in order.
Sara: Yes, you seem to have everything right here, don't you. Even the Extreme title?
--John opens his purple sports coat, rapping his knuckles on the heavy belt.--
John Michael White: Of course.
--Sara lunges across the desk, grabbing the lawyer by the tie. She drills his bald head into the wood, and in an instant JMW knows what is going on. It's the fear he lives with, 24/7.--
TBC by Sara
