Icy Discipline 2

While the coordinator explained my new ‘guests’ about their situation, including the fact that they would be staying here for at least a week — maybe more depending on the storm — I walked around the base. First, I went to my room, and quickly removed my snow equipment, the bulky set of hardly appropriate indoor clothing. 

Then, once I started walking around in a t-shirt and shorts combo — the interior was sufficiently warm thanks to the ridiculous quality of the isolation material they used for the building — I started walking around, doing my best to remove the scientific equipment lying around.  

My aim wasn’t to make the place nicer for my guests, as their comfort was hardly my priority. 

They should count themselves lucky that they were alive in the first place. 

I just didn’t want them ruining some priceless scientific device just because they were feeling curious, or wanted to act out. 

So, I bustled around while they continued to shout at the walkie-talkie in the other room, the occasional word enough to be heard despite the thick walls. 

I felt lucky that when the door opened, I had managed to remove most of the sensitive devices. I turned to greet my unwelcome visitor.

Only to freeze when I met with a familiar face, one that it took a fraction of a second to recognize. 

It wasn’t something I knew personally, but that didn’t prevent me from putting a name to the face. Carly … something, I recognized, having trouble remembering her last name. 

The same didn’t apply to where I recognized her. She was one of the hottest models on the planet, currently going through a meteoric rise, with popularity high enough that even I knew about her, not only being active as a model, but also playing in movies and other events. 

I was never one to care much about models. First, I didn’t have a lot of time to waste to kill on social media and other useless endeavors.

Second, I was a firm believer that the beauty of celebrities was an illusionary factor, created by expensive clothes, photoshop, makeup, and a plethora of other intervention factors.  I had no reason to believe that it didn’t apply to Carly as well. 

Yet, I was a scientist, which meant I was ready to admit when I was wrong. And, looking at her in real-time, I was willing to admit that, the second part turned out to be completely inaccurate. 

Seeing her in real-time, there was certainly no photoshop adjustment. And, after a long trip on the snowmobile, her makeup and hair were mussed incessantly, reaching a point that harmed the presentation rather than helping. 

And, she had already gotten rid of all outer layers, leaving only a thick underlayer that covered her legs completely, and a loose t-shirt, neither the peak fashion. 

If my second assumption had been correct, under the circumstances, she would have looked ordinary under the circumstances, maybe even ugly. 

Yet, even now, with her mussed blonde hair, her lovely face, and her body curvy enough to show its presence despite her loose clothing, she was nothing short of striking, enough to steal my breath for a moment despite my anger. 

“Where’s the bathroom,” she said as she looked at me, her beautiful blue eyes widening as she did so. “I certainly need a long bath after everything.” 

Her voice was soft and lovely, the kind that caused a primal stirring in me. 

Yet, something about her tone just fueled my simmering anger rather than any kind of kindness. Maybe it was her tone, despite its lovely nature, that carried an expectation to be obeyed, like she was talking to a servant. Or maybe it was the fact that she started requesting something rather than thanking me for saving their life, or apologizing for the intrusion. 

“You have to wait for an hour for the water to get warm,” I answered tersely, even though that was not the case. It was petty, certainly, but after their appearance delayed my experiments for at least a week, which meant extending my stay at least a week more, maybe even more, I felt particularly petty. 

“Really?” she asked, her eyes widening like it was the first time she had been rejected. 

“What’s going on?” asked the second voice as my other guest stepped into the room, this time, an even more familiar face. Carly was, while familiar, still an upcoming global celebrity. The other woman, on the other hand, was a famous Latina actress and singer in her early thirties, and had been a constant presence in the mainstream for the last decade, as famous for her acting capabilities as her spectacular ass. 

Maria Lontana. 

Yet, the extent of her fame, along with her annoyed tone just fueled my fury further. 

“Your friend is unhappy with the service quality in this five-star hotel,” I said. 

“Don’t be arrogant,” Carly murmured petulantly as she looked around, her distaste at the smallness of the place rather obvious. “This place would barely earn a star.” 

“Oh, really, sorry about that,” I growled, unable to contain the stirrings of anger as I pointed at the door. “There’s the door, feel free to go stay with one of our competitors. I heard that the penguin palace is running a promotion.” 

“No need to care that much about her,” Maria intervened. “She’s just being needy as usual.” With that, Carly immediately turned to Maria, the anger on her face much stronger, suggesting that their relationship was hardly friendly. 

Why they were on the same snowmobile if they didn’t like each other was a good question, but not one I was feeling inclined to explore. 

“Oh, really —“ Carly started to argue.

“Enough, I’m not in the mood to listen to the bickering of two strangers,” I said. 

“S-strangers,” Carly said, her shock so thick that if someone just listened to her tone, they might have assumed I stabbed her. “Don’t you know who am I?” 

I knew her identity, of course, but her tone not only suggested what answer I needed to deliver, but also demanded an apology along with it. 

“Was I supposed to?” I answered, putting as much dismissal as I could manage in my tone, the raging anger I was feeling working wonders to annoy them. 

Ironically, even with the anger burning in me, a part of me squealed at the opportunity of spending my isolation with two sexy celebrities, but that excitement only intensified my fury. 

“H-how dare —“ she started, only to be interrupted by Maria’s chuckle. 

“This is the problem with the newcomers, expecting everyone to recognize you,” she whispered, yet her tone was vicious despite its softness. Then, she turned to face me, expecting me to say her name. 

A silent request that I had no problem squashing, but I decided to do so viciously. “It was Jenny, right? The singer,” I said, mentioning the name of another singer, a newcomer that literally copied her style and looks, yet gaining some popularity. 

A fact that she clearly didn’t appreciate if her anger was any indicator. “No, it’s Maria,” she corrected. 

“Sorry about that, I don’t care much about that kind of stuff. I’m busy with important things that actually matter,” I said, gesturing around the scientific base. My tone was excessively arrogant, one that my position as a lowly post-doc certainly wouldn’t justify, but I was angry enough to not care about being fair. 

The matching affronted expression they put on at my great sin of not recognizing them was enough to somewhat soothe my anger. 

Yet, it was clearly so out of their expectations, neither was able to say anything for a moment, busy swallowing their anger. 

“Let me show you where you are going to stay for the next week,” I said as walked, and they followed, only after a delay. I opened two doors, revealing matching bedrooms, each barely as big as a small dormitory room, with low-quality furniture to match. 

“What’s this?” asked Maria in shock. “I have a bigger closet for my shoes.” 

“Then go and live there with your shoes,” I answered, not feeling particularly charitable at their distaste, especially since she was right. While the research base was expensive, the geniuses who designed it decided to cut the budget for the living spaces to the bone to make the project more manageable. 

After all, who cared about poor experimental physicists that needed to live in the middle of nowhere for six months. 

Despite her anger, Carly chuckled at my outburst, their relationship clearly acrimonious enough to enjoy each others’ misfortune. 

“And this is yours,” I said to Carly, showing an almost identical room. “And as I told you before, it’ll take an hour for the water to get warm, get comfortable inside, and don’t touch anything!” I said before I walked to my room and slammed the door behind me.