fX (with a lowercase f)

fX (with a lower case ‘f’) originally broadcasted her content from an apartment in the FlatIron district of Manhattan. Though there were sightings of the tan across the globe, from Asia to Greece.

She wasn’t a big name and kept her personified businesses fairly low profile.

The first of June was circled on her calendar, but without anything else to it. She had no idea why that date was so important to her, but she eyed it everyday.

The first of June rolled around and she received a letter under her door in Manhattan.

It looked like junk mail; an advertisement for a service provider or prompt to vote. With no ‘to’ or ‘from’ just a trademark by a company.

But upon opening it, revealed a sweet little card.

“Happy Birthday,” It read, “Return home soon.”

Whoever sent the letter had also paid for tickets and put them with the card. Sydney, Australia. One way. fX checked the company name and address.

Foxtel.

She left early the next morning on the business jet prearranged for her. It was going to be a long and strange flight as she flew with the sun from east to west for 5 hours to San Francisco, then 14 hours all the way to Sydney. On her second flight, she watched the lights of America disappear in the fog underneath the plane’s wings. She fell asleep to let it all pass easier.

She remembered The dry heat of Australia, and how the slightest drop in temperature as night fell made it seem like it was freezing cold. It was strange how her dream-self felt incredibly…fleshy. She had tattoos on her arm and was walking down the streets with one hand in her pocket. She was extremely conscious of the gun in her bag. It was hard to get, weapons are always hard to get in Australia. she’d ordered a training butterfly knife, just a wooden one, and it got swiped by security. She saw them open up her order and see it and gasp and throw it in a big fire just across from the streets from where she was walking now. Or was walking then…

Obviously, the fire wasn’t real, but it made sense in the world in her sleep. Enough sense she forgot she was dreaming and felt real fear when the black car with no license plate pulled up in front of her.

“You can’t park on the footpath!” She yelled at the window screen, before attempting to walk around it.

It was by the boot that she got ambushed. For easy access, of course. She reached for her gun but was tased three times from different angles. Her muscles contracted and she hissed spit up into the air. She saw herself from a third perspective as an unconscious young woman being taped up and placed in the boot. Her gun was taken off her.

The inside of a car boot somehow became a small apartment in the Sydney slums.

She was a girl that had locked herself in her own apartment. Firing a brand new and illegal gun at shadows. Which was stupid.

“Get out!” She screamed. “You fucking fox! GET OUT!”

A shadow lit a match - which was stupid - and her stash caught on fire.

She swore and dove to try and save it, tearing off her top like something primal and dampening the flames with it. “NO, NO! FUCK! FUCK YOU, FOX!”

The boot of the car opened and light poured into her apartment, until she wasn’t in her apartment anymore.

fX could only dream about what had happened on - and leading up to - the 1st of June. What happened to make it so important? She was fairly certain it wasn’t her birthday. Unless it was; her memory wasn’t reliable.

Foxtel remembered, though. 1st of June 1994, Sydney.

A new born channel was usually a baby. They grew fast, so a year could be enough to look like a teenager. But this one was a full grown woman. She  was naked apart from the towel, with messy, damp hair. The 21st Century Fox had to steady her with both paws.

“While she’s in Australia, she’s all yours.” The Bunyip had said to his Goddaughter.

Foxtel asked, "What's your name, hun?"

she blinked, "fX...with a lowercase 'f'."

"What do you air?"

"air..." she breathed, blowing a strand of hair away from her lips, "...stuff and shit."

Foxtel walked around her desk, smiling, "c'mere, let me have a good look at you."

fX took one step forward and she was taken lovingly by the arms into Foxtel's hands.

"Oh gosh," Foxtel whispered, her eyes glittering.

fX blinked and muttered. "Um..."

"Sorry!" She said, taking her hands off the naked girl, backing up to fetch her present. Foxtel unwrapped it herself, of course, and took out the cute blue beanie to show her channel. "D'you like it? It's got these little ears, see?"

fX grinned, before giggling manically. It shook her frail form under the towel. Foxtel smiled along and put the beanie on fX. It fit snugly and soaked up some of the water around her crown. The warm sensation it gave to fX's brain made her smile wider and look up at her boss with reverence. She leaned forward and drunkenly kissed her on the lips.

She smeared red lipstick all over their mouths, before Foxtel gently pushed her back.

"I hope to see you back next year." Foxtel told her with a pat of the head, "Once you've gotten yourself together. I know living with the bunyip for so long must've taken it's toll on you."

"Oooh..." fX cooed, "The Fox...the fox tried to get me..."

"Yes, he sure did." Foxtel laughed.

"He got me, didn't he?"

"Yes, yes, he did."

fX sighed and shrugged, nearly losing the towel, "Oh well, I'm only human."

21st pulled his lips back over his rows of teeth in a mock-smile, "not even that anymore...come along, child."