Deleted Scene #1

This scene was originally part of the prologue, but I decided to leave it out because cutting off directly after the failed kiss attempt was much more effective.  Instead, I worked this material in later by use of flashback and review by Ethan.  This cuts off sort of abruptly, as I was still in the process of finishing it when I decided not to use it.

            The rest of the afternoon was slow torture for Ethan, though the entire island was caught up in a blur of activity.  With the breaking of a major news story came the television crews with their cameras—dozens of them arriving in the space of an hour.  He had no interest in them, though normally he would.  Ethan wanted only to get away from the cavern and head for his room.  The last thing he needed was to be anywhere in range of camera, especially if he happened to be sharing the frame with Velma.  His head was reeling and he wanted only to be alone in the quiet, if that were possible.

            After finding his way out of the cavern, which might had been difficult were it not for the stream of people running both into and out of the entrance, he made his way to his room and flopped down on the bed.  Idly, he flicked the television on, but he really didn't want to watch it.  Nothing much on, anyway.  He thought of his guitar, but playing it would have taken more effort than he wanted to exert.  Same with playing a computer game, or reading, or drawing in his sketch pad.  Outside he could hear helicopters landing and the shouts of instructions between the camera crews, plus the excited shouts of the college students who were gathering around the hotel entrance.  It made his room a strange place to be; it was like the eye of storm-- so oddly quiet. 

            He was not in his room very long before the buzz of activity taking place directly below began to draw him in.  So you got dumped—correction—you have to be going out first to get dumped.  Turned down.  Like it's never happened before.  But what are you going to do, sit around and feel sorry for yourself?  The entire world had just been rescued from disaster and here he was, moping in his room while this major event passed him by!  He knew he'd regret it his whole life if he didn't get down there, no matter the fact that he really didn't feel up to much of anything, much less a major celebration.  All the same, he could make the best of it.  Getting up off the bed and surveying himself in the mirror, he looked at his ceremonial gear in distaste.  A change of clothes was definitely in order, he decided, and he reached for his open suitcase.  Ethan very rarely put much thought into what he wore, and he nearly always wore the same thing—jeans and a heavy-metal or dark-colored shirt.  Pulling out one of his nicer black-and-gray long sleeved shirts, he headed for the shower.

            The hot shower seemed to help clear out the pounding in his head.  It had been a long, rough day, and it wasn't over yet.  Still, the act of actually getting ready for the events downstairs had helped him work up some enthusiasm.  After dressing, he quickly combed his dark hair and surveyed himself in the mirror.  Thankfully, his trim goatee was still intact—it had taken him forever to get it just the way he wanted.  At least the demon who had been walking around in his skin for the past day hadn't altered his appearance permanently.  Ethan shook his head with that thought.  He still hadn't quite been able to get his mind around what had happened to him.  But there was no time to try to figure it all out now.  After dashing on a little cologne and grabbing his room key, he headed down the hallway for the stairs.

            He had nearly reached them when a small group of press people suddenly surged en masse towards him.  It was as if they had been waiting for him, he thought, but that really made no sense.  What would they want with him when there was no shortage of college kids downstairs to interview?  His questions were quickly answered when one press agent, evidently in charge of the group, came briskly up to Ethan.  Despite the incredible events he had been through that day, he never would have expected what happened next.  

            "So, you are Miss Dinkley's boyfriend?" the woman asked jauntily, making it sound much more like a statement than a question.  "Would you mind answering a few questions for us?"  The  others in the group whipped out notepads and stared expectantly at him, their pencils poised.

"I-- I'm not—who told you that?"  Ethan asked, taken aback.

"Oh, good!" the woman replied, not really having heard him.  The reporters erupted with a flood of questions, all hitting him at once.

"How long have you been together?"

            "Did you come to Spooky Island together?  Or did you meet here?"

            "What are your plans for the future?"

            "How do you feel about your girlfriend rescuing you?"

            Ethan didn't answer, of course, mainly because he was too surprised.  Who could have given the reporters such a wrong impression?  Velma wouldn't, he knew that.  Maybe some of the other college kids had seen them together earlier?  He didn't have time to come up with very many options, because as rapidly as the questions began, they ended.  The head press agent shushed the reporters, tapping on her watch, and then turned to Ethan again.

            "Now if you'll just come with us we're going to get you through that crowd downstairs.  Try to, anyway!  It's a zoo!"  Ethan had no doubt of that.  "We're all set up to film Mystery, Inc coming out of the hotel and you really should be up at the front with them!"  With that, her entourage surrounded him and they moved as a group towards the stairs.  Ethan couldn't have left them if he'd tried, because no sooner had they reached the stairs than the crowd closed in around them.  The lobby was absolutely chocked with people!  The press people were well-seasoned at moving though crowds, however, and they took Ethan with them, dodging and weaving until they reached the large lobby doors.  He blinked in astonishment as they passed N'Goo, Zarkos, and several other henchman, all handcuffed and in line.  Even they were to be a part of this staged "big entrance!"

            "Now, you stand right here," the press agent guided him.  Ethan did as he was directed.  Velma was not there, at least not yet.  At his left  was a small man who resembled the one he'd noticed Shaggy helping earlier, only without the beard.  Looking closer, he realized that it was the same man, only greatly cleaned up for the shoot, of course.  The sweet-looking blonde girl who had been hanging around with Shaggy was there, too.  Probably she was his  girlfriend, Ethan guessed.  His real girlfriend, he thought, remembering his own situation.  He could only hope that Velma understood.  He didn't need to add to his embarrassment by having her think that he'd done this purposely.  That it had been he who told the reporters the wrong thing.  Ethan glanced around.  There's still time.  I should just get out of this.  Deciding affirmatively, he began to back up, hoping to disappear into the crowd.  He didn't even make it out of his line.  Just then he saw the crowd stir off to his left as the final members of the processional made their way to the front, aided by security guards.  Mystery, Inc. When the security guards moved back, Ethan saw Velma—she was standing only a few feet directly in front of him, though surrounded by more of the television crew.  One of them was making last minute adjustments to her bangs with a small comb while another dusted her face a little with some powder.  She didn't seem to mind.  No sooner had they finished than the doors flew open and he could feel the press of the crowd behind him, urging him to move forward.

            The mob scene inside the hotel was echoed as they stepped out onto the sunlit front steps.  More excited college kids and workers lined the walk, cheering and yelling, while the news cameras captured every moment.  Under the watchful eye of some uniformed security guards, several people rushed forward to the members of Mystery, Inc, thanking them and asking for their autographs.  No one was more happy to oblige than Velma, especially when a good-looking young man approached her and gestured to his muscle-shirt.  Grinning from ear-to-ear, she signed his chest.  Ethan watched and, though his sober expression didn't match it, he was happy for her.  He knew how much she had wanted this— to be appreciated and noticed for once.  She certainly had that now!