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Chapter 59: Good News
🕑 Added 2025-06-15 15:29:14 +0000 UTC
"Good news, Henry—I've got good news!"
Marianne’s voice chirped excitedly over the phone.
Henry had just started dinner. The braised pork was still simmering, and the rice cooker had barely begun doing its job when the call came out of the blue.
He glanced at the clock on the wall and raised a brow.
“I thought you guys shut down after hours. Don’t agents go home and rest like normal people?”
“Union agents are still agents, honey,” Marianne said with a tired huff. “You ever met one with regular hours? We don’t clock out—we just run out of coffee.” She paused. “But come on, aren’t you even curious what the good news is? It’s about you, after all.”
Henry chuckled. “Sweetheart, your well-being concerns me more than any casting notice. But sure, I’m glad to hear there’s good news—and even gladder you thought of me first.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk… you silver-tongued devil,” she teased. “Now I feel sorry for all the girls who fell for that line before me. Unless—wait—you’re trying to rush me off the phone 'cause someone else is already in your bed?”
“You wound me!” Henry gasped in mock horror. “I'm just a poor man, cooking dinner for one, eating in front of a soap opera rerun and quietly wasting away.”
Okay, that last part about the soap opera was made up, but the “quietly wasting away” part? That rang true.
Evening life in this era felt dull for someone who remembered what came next. Entertainment hadn’t evolved much yet. Henry spent most nights listening to music or tinkering with computers—tweaking code, testing systems. Fulfilling, sure. But fun? Not really. That was a different kind of satisfaction.
“Such a shame,” Marianne sighed. “If only you’d called me first. I’m actually still at the guild office waiting for my date to show up. Had you gotten in earlier, I might’ve given you a shot, you know?”
Henry let out a nervous chuckle.
Yeah, he'd definitely been letting his mouth run a bit looser lately—blame it on Alaska and all those rugged fishermen teaching him American male banter 101. But while his flirting had gotten bolder, he hadn’t gone full playboy. Not in this town.
Why?
Simple answer: AIDS.
Welcome to the 1990s. The most popular thing in America besides jeans and pop music? Sexually transmitted diseases.
And sure, Superman once got a cold in a non-canon comic—proof enough for Henry that Kryptonian invulnerability had limits. Especially when it came to viruses.
Sure, his X-ray vision could spot bone fractures and orthopedic screws, maybe even a tucked-away gun. But tell viral load from skin and posture? Not a chance.
He’d even done his due diligence: spent a few days quietly hanging out at hospitals, watching patients of every stripe. The reality? Some diseases had no visible markers, even under alien vision.
Mix in HIV, asymptomatic syphilis, or any one of a dozen bloodborne nightmares… yeah, Henry had zero intention of living like some party-hopping Hollywood gigolo.
And let’s not forget—this was Los Angeles, with the San Fernando Valley right next door. America’s adult film capital.
No thanks.
Besides, flirting was one thing. Going full casanova? That was a liability. Too many entanglements, too many loose ends. If any shady organization caught wind of a Kryptonian with a trail of “off-the-record” dalliances?
Yeah. Not worth it.
Henry laughed it off and smoothly changed the subject.
“So, darling, stop teasing me—what’s this good news you called about?”
“Ugh, fine! You’re clearly trying to get rid of me.”
“I’m heartbroken,” he replied, dramatically. “I just didn’t want to ruin your date. I do try to be considerate.”
He could hear a man’s voice in the background:
“Baby, I’m here! You ready to go?”
Marianne muffled the receiver. “One sec, sweetheart! I’ve got a work call!”
Didn’t help. Henry still heard everything.
When she came back on the line, her voice had a faint trace of regret.
“Okay, I can’t stay long. The good news is… the production team from Under Siege got back to us. You’re in.”
“Hey! That is good news,” Henry said, genuinely pleased. “Guess I’ll sleep like a baby tonight.”
“Make sure you swing by the guild in the next few days and pick up your paperwork. You’ll be needed on set soon. And heads up—they want full-time presence.”
Henry raised a brow.
“That’s a bit unusual for extras, isn’t it?”
Typically, only main cast were locked into full-time schedules. Extras—background actors—got paid by the day or hour. Production crews would usually bunch all the crowd scenes together to minimize costs.
Bringing extras in every day? That wasn’t just expensive—it was weirdly generous.
But hey, if they had money to burn and wanted bodies on standby, Henry wasn’t about to complain. Paid downtime was still paid.
“Alright,” he said. “I’ll drop by tomorrow to grab the materials.”
“Perfect. I’ve gotta run.”
“Have a lovely night, sweetheart.”
“Shame you’re not the one I’m spending it with.”
Marianne’s wistful tone lingered for a beat before the line went dead.
Henry smiled to himself and went back to his braised pork.
