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Chapter Twenty Nine - Slippery Slopes



"Jesus Christ man, are you looking for Aphro-fuckin'-dite or something?"

I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear Trace say that. I could make a snappy comeback about it being Helen of Troy or Audrey Hepburn actually, but that would be giving the little troll some kind of dignifying response. He's been bitchy with me all day, and as much as he'd like to pretend it's my fault the ass has enough of his own issues without requiring me to create them for him.

This process can be kind of dull though, so I guess I can't blame him. We're stuck in yet another faceless dance studio. They all look the same - plain white walls, sprung floors, mirrors. Nobody ever seems to paint the walls anything except white; maybe we dancers just don't have a lot of imagination when it comes to decorating. It's all the same. Marty calls the girls in one by one and we have them grind up all over Eddie so we can see how they move. I already have my group dancers so we don't need to bring them all in here to teach choreography or so we can compare. What we need to see is how these girls move in an intimate situation, since if they get hired that's what they'll be doing with me for this video.

To tell you the truth, I sometimes wonder if these auditions are kind of sexist because it's sort of like a cattle call. Give 'em a number instead of a name and call them in one by one so you can stare at them and either accept the goods or send 'em away. It never used to bother me until Rachael made this comment one time about us treating them like slabs of meat instead of people. She insisted it was the process at fault and not the people behind it, but she failed to come up with any other solutions when I asked how else you can choose a woman to star in a video when the criteria is that she has to be good looking. Call me shallow if you want, but while I try my best not to judge people by superficial shit in the real world I cannot hire an ugly woman for a video. It's not because I think she's worth any less, it's because when people watch a video they don't care if you're beautiful inside; it's all about the aesthetic.




"Oh it's not Aphrodite he's looking for."

"And what's that tone supposed to mean?"

Rachael remains silent, hiding under her cap, and I flash her an annoyed look. She was fine when we started, but as time has gone on she's slumped further and further back into her chair, with her arms folded and a pinched expression on her face. I don't know what the problem is with these two today but it's like they both took PMS pills. The type that causes it instead of cures it.

Besides, they know the drill; they've been through this a hundred times before. Heck, Marty does it five times as often as they do and he's not whining about it. It's a pretty simple process; we get an agency to send us various head shots, we pull out the ones we like and invite them to an audition. Sometimes all we need to do is check that they're cute and can hit a mark; sometimes we need dancers or somebody with a little more acting skill. Those take longer. This audition today isn't too bad since even girls that can't do choreography can usually shake it a little - except this one girl earlier who had a great ass but no rhythm. I felt sorry for her, she was totally awkward and even she could tell she'd blown it.




"You feeling anybody JT?" Marty asks as the previous girl leaves.

By my count we have another fifteen to see unless we make a decision right now. That sounds harsh, that some girls won't even get the chance, but we only do that if we discover somebody so on point that we get really excited. That doesn't happen much. There are so many beautiful women in LA trying to make it in this business that you almost take it for granted.

"They're all fine, but nobody really stands out."

My nose screws up in a little bit of frustration. I'm really feeling that tingle in my toes which says I have a hit on my hands with this song, and I want the video to kill it. Whoever plays opposite me needs to sizzle on screen and while these girls are all good looking, I've yet to see what I need. Call it charisma or sex appeal or whatever you want, but it's that thing that makes it impossible for you to drag your eyes away. I need it.

Not least since I had a total beer goggles moment this morning when I turned over and the girl I picked up last night looks nothing like she did last night. The sex is kind of hazy in my memory too. She was pleasant enough and didn't assume that one hook up meant she was going to be my new paramour, which is a nice change from all those girls who are already dreaming of the Hello magazine wedding spread after the first night, but despite my extreme horniness I'm not sure it was worth it. She wasn't all that and the only reason I ever thought she was is named Budweiser. You'd think after so long a drought just to get laid at all would make me a happy camper, but in my old age I get less satisfaction out of one night stands than I did at twenty one when playing the field was the best thing ever.

So yes, today I really need to see a girl and have a 'wow' moment. If Trace or Rachael thinks I'm being too fussy then fuck them. My so called 'anal retentive perfectionist control freakishness' pays their damn bills.

"I need a break," Trace groans, his chair squealing as he pushes it back and stands up. "You want a smoke break Rach?"

"Sure." She follows suit.

I'm not sure when those two started ganging up on me instead of me and Rach ganging up on Trace, but I don't like it. The two of them even look identical from the back - baggy jeans and vests with trucker caps. From my label, I might add. Pre-menstrual bitches, the pair of them.




I heave a deep sigh and look at Marty. "You wanna call the next one?"

He duly does so and in she walks. She's in a similar uniform to the rest of them - they all try to look casual but flash as much flesh as possible. There is definitely a lack of subtlety in this town; they all seem to have taken the "less is more" approach to mean less fabric instead of less flesh. All the girls are tailored to a similar look, since I have a definite vision in my head of what I want for this video. It's all going to be about dark corners and dark sexy hideaways, lots of heat, so I wanted somebody to fit in with that - dark and sultry. So they're all dark haired and have a slight Latina vibe to them, and like I said they all dress practically the same: sweatpants to look casual, but figure hugging ones. Cropped shirts of various dance or sports gear labels. They may all be in sneakers but they're out to show off their bodies.

A lot of guys would kill to have this kind of day at work, but over a decade in this business and I've become utterly blasé to it. Still, it doesn't exactly suck.

I tap my pen against her headshot while Marty gives her the instructions. They're short and to the point - when the music comes on, get up on Eddie and freestyle it. Be sexy. The one thing that has been pretty different is the way the girls interpret those instructions. Some basically started behaving like strippers, some were total teases, some got heavy with the looks and eye contact and some, like this girl now, seem to be channelling the Pussycat Dolls. Since what I had in mind was more of a cross between tease and the normal way you might get up on somebody in a club, I don't think she's what I want.

She's not bad looking at all, she has almond shaped green eyes and a perfect Cupid's bow for lips, but the way she moves isn't what I pictured at all. Marty subtly tries to direct her more that way - as he has with all of them, we don't expect them to be total mind readers - but although she takes the hint she's still not quite there. That'll make it another line through another name. Out of thirty plus girls, I have about twenty five crosses and the rest all down as a pretty unenthusiastic maybe.

Heck, maybe it's only because I'm not in the right frame of mind for this today. Maybe if we brought them back tomorrow I'd see them all through totally different eyes. Maybe I'm just a picky bastard with impossible standards. Blah.




***




It's not long before I get bored myself and give Marty a break so I can have one. We only have seven more girls, five minutes won't kill us. I'm still hoping I'll see the one and save myself from a second round - or worse, a second batch of new prospects some other day - but I'm not willing to compromise. If you want first place then it never pays to take second best. Sometimes that really complicates my life, but I quickly learned in this business that when they tell you about the glamour and accolades they never mention the trials and tribulations.

Despite their grouchy moods, I head out the back to hunt down Trace and Rachael. It's weird, even when they're grumpy I'd usually still rather hang with them than anyone else. I have plenty of other friends I could hang with, but there's a definite comfort factor in having those two around. I'd never tell them because it's sappy and they'd mock me endlessly, but I really do love their annoying asses. It's great to have people like Matt or Tim or Addy around to mix it up, but somehow I always end up with Trace and Rachael.

When I step out into the lot the smell of new tarmac hits my nose. It's not great, but it's mostly covered up with fresh air. I can hear the gruesome twosome talking around the corner of the building, and I'm just about to head round there when I start to tune in on what they're saying and stop dead in my tracks.




Trace sounds doubtful. "Are you sure you're not being paranoid?"

"Come on, the resemblance is pretty fuckin' obvious."

"Well the song is about her, a subconscious association wouldn't be a huge deal."

Rachael lets out a grunt. I can't see her face but I imagine she just rolled her eyes. "It's way beyond that. These aren't just passing similarities Trace, every girl in there has the same skin tone and colouring as her. All practically the same height, too."

"But that's about the same height as all his other dancers. You know they like the girls to be shorter than him, looks better."

I have no idea who the hell they're talking about, but it's already obvious that Rachael's bitching about my video and Trace is sticking up for me. I take back what I said about him being a troll. What's her problem and resemblance to whom, exactly? I just picked a look I wanted and chose head shots that fit it; I didn't have anybody I know in mind when I did it.

"Which on its own would mean nothing but add it to everything else and the way he acts around her…"

"What way?" Trace voices the thought in my head for me.

"You don't see it? He never normally spends so much time with women he isn't dating, especially when he's on the road and can barely make time for anybody. He's always texting and calling when we're away, and you've seen the way he looks at her?"

"What way? It looks normal to me."

Rachael lets out the kind of exasperated 'ahh' that Mom used to give me when I wouldn't clean my room. "Well you look at every woman that way you little perv so you would think it was normal." That's true actually, Trace is a little lecher. "Point is it's not healthy."

"He hasn't been laid in over a year; of course he looks at her like he wants to jump her, he looks at every woman like he wants to jump her. It's called being a guy." Little does he know about last night - I was laid less than twenty four hours ago, even if it wasn't exactly the most orgasmic experience ever.

Okay, I think that was an actual foot I heard stamping on the ground. He's obviously pissing her off now. "No, it's her. He goes off to that island all fucked in the head and has some weird intense thing with her, suddenly bumps into her a year later when she's all fucked in the head and picks right back up where he left off. It's not good."




Wait… Addison? She's talking about Addy? Hell no bitch, those girls look nothing like Addy! What, am I supposed to shy away from ever casting a brunette again because I dated her? I've dated women of every hair colour; I'd never be able to cast any female ever again! Stupid woman, what the hell is she thinking of?

And don't get me started on that little assessment of my relationship with Addy because she has no idea.




"Fucked in the head? A little uptight maybe but it's not like she's some head case."

"That's not what I mean…" Now she's taken on a whiny school kid tone. She lets out a sigh that even I can hear from my little eavesdropping position. "She's nice and I like her, but she's obviously depressed. She barely goes out except with us, there's some weird thing going on with her room mate and she always looks like she only slept three hours. And she's so damn negative all the time, you notice that? He was depressed back then when they first hooked up and I think she's depressed now, and the fact that those two seem to use each other as their own personal Prozac substitute when really they don't know each other all that well is a little twisted."

There's a pause, and if Trace values his life he had better be thinking of some brilliant and incisive comment to cut her down with.

"I never thought of it that way. I kind of see where you're coming from."

Bastard. I'm making a list and you're on it, so you better sleep with one eye open pal.

"But hey, isn't that what friends do? Lean on each other?" Trace then continues.

Hmm. Maybe you're off the list, depending on how the rest of this conversation goes. I can't believe they still haven't realised that I'm listening in. I'd have thought they'd hear me approaching; it wasn't like I was sneaking up on them.

"There's leaning on each other and then there's having some messed up symbiotic parasitic crap where you're co-dependent."

Yeah. Rachael is so off my Christmas card list and onto the dead before dawn list. I have a lot of lists.

"Well what do you plan to do about it?" Trace asks. "You know if you say any of this crap to him he'll just disagree and get pissy."

"I don't plan to do anything about it, it's his life." Oh really? You noticed that while judging it all without knowing shit, did you? "It just annoys and worries me because I don't think it's healthy for either of them and I think he likes having her need him a little too much, and he's still hot for her. As evidenced by the fact that he's insisting on releasing a song about her and isn't going to be happy until he finds her doppelganger to cast in the video."

"I don't even care if it's Addy's god damned twin at this point, I'd just like his picky ass to choose somebody already. We were supposed to go meet Dickwad an hour ago and I had to cancel, God only knows when we'll be able to reschedule."

"Another one who's hot for her."

"What? Dickwad? How can you tell?"

I'm with the troll, I've been around Alex the Dickwad a good few times now and the man is like an ice block. He has lots of smart comments and jokes but they're never warm or friendly, just annoying, hence his new moniker. There's no sign that he's ever thawed out enough to desire the touch of any woman, let alone Addy.

"He stares at her too. Though she can stay away from him because he really is a dick."

"Agreed."




Yeah, that'll be the first thing we've all agreed on throughout this whole conversation.




"And that Steve guy too, there was obviously something still there. And Justin looked totally jealous which is just more evidence for the prosecution."

"He was perfectly cool to the guy!" Trace protests.

"Never said he wasn't. Just said he looked jealous. Though Steve twittering on like a total idiot about him and Addy didn't help. Who tells your ex's ex all about your relationship with her?"

"The dude seemed fine by me."

And by me too, so Rachael can shove that theory where the sun don't shine. I really do not like her today; she's uncharacteristically full of bullshit. Usually even when I don't like what she has to say I can admit the truth to it, but nothing she has said about me and Addy makes any sense. I am not jealous of Steve. He was a nice guy, but like she said he babbled a lot. And why would I even be jealous since they're not together any more anyway?

Though I did kind of wonder if maybe they hooked up while he was staying, they were kind of touchy feely in the restaurant. He was supposed to have left yesterday and I nearly asked, but then remembered it's none of my business. If I really was jealous I'm sure I'd have masochistically asked anyway purely to torture myself.

Just like I've been masochistically eavesdropping on my cousin bitching about me. Good times.

Oh my God I just cackled right out loud. I'm brainwashing you, that is just class!!

Right, let's see if I can sert off any more new catchphrases...


Chapter Thirty - Help


I need to stop biting my nails. I thought I'd broken the habit years ago, but it must still be a nervous thing since I can't keep them out of my mouth at the moment. There's a certain amount of foot tapping going on too. Why is nobody ever around when I need them?

"Hey, you've reached Justin. I'm busy right now but leave me a message and I'll call you back."

An unnecessarily high pitched beep sounds in my ear, and I take it as my cue to leave the message. "Hey, Memphis, it's English. Umm… I guess you're not around, I was just calling for some sanity. It's just, uhh, Lily's got some friends over and they're kinda loud and stuff. I don't know them too well and… never mind. I'm just being silly. Call me soon and we'll chat, yeah? See ya babe."

Oh that was pathetic. I suppose the desperation of being unable to reach Trace or Rachael and having nobody else to call made me pathetic. That would make sense, since having nobody else to call is equally pitiable. Justin's been working hard on a video shoot all day; he's probably still there and shooting from what he told me about the process, which sounded lengthy. I didn't need to bug him with stupid voice messages about me being a wimp.




I am a wimp, hiding in my bedroom. For the first five minutes I was stupidly happy about the fact that she'd brought people home for once. Firstly because it meant she wasn't dead in a ditch somewhere (if there are any ditches in Los Angeles), and secondly because I hoped that if I could chat to these people she's friends with I would be reassured that she's okay, and who knows, maybe get friendly with them myself. It only took me five minutes to get the impression that I'd been overly optimistic, and ten to decide I did not want to be there.

They're extremely loud, for one thing. Even putting aside the fact that it's my iPod they've cranked up to insane volume without asking, they're now yelling to talk over the music. That makes no sense to me; why would you do that when you're in a private apartment and not a club? Why if you want to talk would you blast music out at so many decibels you have to yell? It's preventing me from burying myself under my duvet and ignoring them, because I can hear every word very clearly through the floor. They're all acting like they're still in a club, too. Drinks are getting spilled and smashed underfoot, they're sloppy drunk (though I suppose they must have been before they even got here to be so far gone) and I think when I went downstairs to grab an apple that I saw something going up someone's nose. Two guesses as to what that could be.

I'm in shock, but I'm also kind of scared. My father always warned me that I'd had a sheltered life on Adora but I never really believed him. Like any son or daughter, I thought he was being a typical parent who didn't know what mischief their kid got into. Now I can see he was right - the worst I've seen is a bit of weed smoking, the idea that they're passing coke around in there shocks me. I mean, I know it's rife in the fashion scene and in big cities, but despite that knowledge that the idea that Lily might be involved with anyone who did it just never entered my brain for so much as a millisecond. What I know and what I considered any kind of possibility never really interacted with each other in my head. Now it makes horrible sense - she's rich, she runs with a rich crowd. They're exactly the kind of people who can afford it in exactly the kind of industry where it's considered socially acceptable. I hope she's not doing it too, but it would explain some things.

The scared part of me - which is also kind of angry, come to think of it - is wondering precisely how badly these people behave when high. There is a bunch of drug taking strangers in my front room and even if they are with Lily, I don't feel safe. There's no lock on my bedroom door, but even if there was they're still in my home with all my stuff and my best friend. Since I've never seen anybody coked up I have no idea what to expect. If they were all stoned or simply drunk without the coke taking I could deal with it; I wouldn't be any happier but at least I'd know what I had to look forward to. Right now I feel a bit helpless and pathetic and afraid to even go downstairs in my own apartment. I'm angry at being put in that position, but more than anything it's the anxiety that's working on my last nerve.

Which is why I was desperately trying to reach Trace or Rachael or Justin - I figure that being around the entertainment industry they'd be able to reassure me, let me know what I'm in for, but none of them are available. Trace and Rachael aren't answering texts or calls, and Justin obviously went to voicemail.




The doorbell ringing is a welcome relief.

Quickly I run downstairs to open it. I'm not surprised that Lily has made no effort to, but then I'm amazed I managed to hear the intercom (we have one in every room, it's the ultimate in laziness) and I'm not the one sitting by the speakers. When I open the door it's Alex, clutching a large presentation binder. It looks like he said 'hi' but I can't lip read very well so I put the door on the latch and step out into the hallway, shutting it behind me. The music is still stupidly loud but at least I'll be able to hear him.

"Man that's loud. Party?"

"No, just some obnoxious friends of Lily's."

"Fun." He rolls his eyes. "Anyway, I'll spare you the preamble. I came over to ask a huge favour."

"Oh?" I ask. I should have known this wasn't a social visit.

"I know I said you could have tomorrow off, but I just had this dumped on me by Frank and he wants it done by close of business tomorrow. I've done as much of it as I can, but I'm in an all day meeting with buyers and it still needs proof reading and shit and everybody's swamped. I can't even try the ol' all nighter on it since I'm already doing that for meeting prep. I'm really sorry, can you help me out?"

Part of me wants to get really pissed off by that rather cheeky request, but two things have stopped me. One is the mention of Frank, who is unofficially referred to in the office as SME whenever Elena's not around. SME may sound like a Peter Pan character but it actually stands for Scariest Motherfucker Ever. The second is that Alex's request was uncharacteristically humble and apologetic. Now, that makes it sound like he's usually a bastard and he's not, but he tends to take it for granted that since he's the boss and you're the underling he asks and you do. He's not an ass about it, but he's never exactly falling over himself to make it sound like you have a choice.

"No that's fine." I shrug. It was more of a mental health day than anything, I had no set plans.

"You're an angel, thank you," he says with a relieved smile. "Just call reception when you're done and we'll send the courier. Thanks gorgeous, you've saved my ass."

"What else is new?"

He manages to chuckle at that. "Yeah. Actually I wanted to talk to you about that fine ability, but maybe now's not the time with the nightclub you're running in there?"

"Ugh." I shake my head and give a little shudder. "I have a bunch of coked up friends of Lily's in my living room and no idea what to do about it."

"Oh." His total lack of surprise fits neatly in with my theory that it's rife in fashion. "Not much you can do about it if Lily's invited them. Won't she kick them out?"

"She's totally ignoring me."

"I had a roommate who used to do shit like that, have a ton of parties and let his friends BYO. I used to do the occasional line myself, no big deal, but they all turned into druggies and then they started calling the dealers over to our place. I drew the line there."

"You mean they don't all turn into druggies?" I let out an unconvinced huff. The look on his face tells me he knows what I'm insinuating and he finds that view naïve. The reply I get is totally candid and very matter of fact. "No, they don't. With some people it's like social smoking, they do it once in a while and then one day they just never do it again and don't notice the difference, I was like that. Some people go through a stage and then get bored… I ain't tellin' you it's smart or it's right, but it's the real world. A lot of people wind up trying it in this industry. The real problem comes if you go overboard and get hooked; that's when you got trouble. You know if Lily's been using?"

"No." I shrug. "This is the first I knew of this; she's been out partying a lot."

"Hmm. Well, I'd keep an eye on her." He shrugs. "This happens a lot in this business and mostly it turns out okay, so long as she's not doing the hard stuff too often."

"It's not her I'm worried about so much as the random strangers in my living room. I have no idea who any of them are or what they might do, they're all shit faced to begin with even without the coke."




I push my hand over my forehead, frowning fiercely. It's a lie that I'm not worried about Lily, I care about her way more than any of those wankers she's hanging with, but at least I have some idea of how to handle her if she goes off on one. What Alex seems to be saying is that it's life and if she's only doing it once in a while nothing terrible is likely to happen; I'm unconvinced, I've read too many tales of people dying on their first try of drugs and them being laced with all sorts of horrible things. Still, I suppose I can see that realistically he's merely giving me his firsthand experience. He and people he knows have done it once in a while and walked away with no ill effects. Problem is that I have no idea how often Lily's been doing it - or if she's even done it at all, it wasn't her I spotted snorting. I've noticed her looking extremely tired and worn down, but is that alcohol and late nights alone or is she overdoing it on coke?

More to the point… where was I when this was all happening? She's fallen in with some total gits, it's obvious, but where was I?

It worries me that I had no idea, and that I was so dismissive. I'm now feeling incredibly guilty for having had this down in my head as her ignoring me or shutting me out. It seems very middle school of me to have treated this like it was some 'but you're MY friend' thing. What if it's me who's been ignoring her and not being there for her when she needs me? I do work some stupid hours, maybe she turned to them because I wasn't here? We've always had fun but she's never been a huge partier, and it's not like we haven't had opportunities to get into the stupid drunk/partying cycle before. She's never succumbed to that temptation before, so why now? I can't shake the feeling there was something I could have done had I realised earlier, and that more pertinently I should have realised earlier.




"Look, don't worry." Alex claps a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. He is being pretty good about this, I have to say. Technically he's Lily's superior too, he could have got really pissy about this. "It's midnight now, hopefully they'll either go home, crash out or decide they want to head to some bar soon. If they're as far gone as you say they are they won't be able to keep this up."

"Ugh, I just… I don't know how to handle this."

His brown eyes smile at me sympathetically, and I'm about to smile a pathetically grateful smile back when I hear the lift doors open.

"Addy!"

Justin rushes over to me and immediately swoops me up in a hug, kissing the top of my head without noticing that he's shoved Alex out of the way. "Are you okay? I got your message and you sounded really nervous, what's going on?"

Looking at him, I'm wondering if he rushed straight over here from his shoot. I think he still has make up on. "It's a long story…"

"I'll leave you to tell it," Alex says as he shifts uncomfortably and then passes me the binder. "Thanks again for the favour, I owe you."

"No, that's okay. Thank you," I tell him, hoping he gets that I'm not thanking him for dumping work on me on my day off; I'm thanking him for being here with the reality check.

"Oh, bye Alex." Justin makes a vague wave in his direction as he walks away but you can tell he doesn't really give a shit. He's still staring at me. "Are you having a party or something?"

"No." I sigh. I don't feel like having this conversation again in the corridor, least of all with a pop star that may attract attention if anyone sees him. "Come on, I'll fill you in."




***




"Much as I hate to say it, Dickwad's right," Justin tells me with a sigh. I stealthily manoeuvred him past the high people and upstairs without being spotted, and I've been telling him the whole sorry tale. It's extremely late and Alex's prediction has yet to come true.

"Neither of you can convince me that it's okay if it's occasional." Call me naïve if you must, but I'm very much an advocate of 'just say no.' My parents indoctrinated me to believe drugs are the devil and it worked, what can I tell you?

"That's not what I mean." He brushes my arm gently with his hand. "I'm not telling you it's okay or right or anything like that, and I'm not telling you there's no risk. I'm just telling you that in the industries we're in, a lot of people occasionally use and even if it's wrong, most of them come out from it unscathed. Fuck, even I tried it once. It's not the actual coke I'd be worried about so much as it sounds like she's partying too hard in general. Even if she's only on alcohol there's only so long you can burn the candle at before ends before you run out of candle, but if she is overdoing the coke that'll happen faster."

"Gah." I flop forward and my head now rests in his lap. Sympathetically he starts stroking my hair. I feel only marginally less pathetic for the fact that I now have company while I'm hiding in my room. He's sitting back against the head board of my bed, legs stretched out ahead of him, and I'm curled up in what's a bit too akin to the foetal position. "I just want them out of here. I hate having all these strangers here when I know they're on something."

His index finger brushes over my ear. "If they haven't bothered you so far they probably won't. I guess you just need to talk to Lily and ask her to keep it out of here."

"Heh. I haven't talked to Lily in weeks," I say miserably. "I'm not sure I could get anywhere near her to even say it, and even if I could I doubt she'll listen to me any more."

"Won't know until you try." He stops stroking and ruffles my hair instead. I could tell him that he should have showered before coming over here, but since I'm insanely grateful to have somebody here to look after me right now I don't care. He doesn't stink that bad, anyway.

"I hate feeling so distant from her." I rub at my nose fretfully. "But knowing there's shit like this going on makes it worse, I feel helpless."

"You are about the furthest thing from helpless I know, Miss Thang. You got your shit together way more than most people I know. How many people could just jump into a whole new career and country at the same time?"

Hmm. A voice in my head says it doesn't share his conviction that I completed said feat successfully, but I won't let it speak out loud to him. "I've been friends with her all my life, why is it all suddenly going to shit like this?" He shrugs. "Sometimes going to a new place fucks people up for a while. LA being Crazy Town don't help it much."

"How do you stand it?" I whine.

"I got paid to simulate sex with a hot woman half of today and dance with her the rest of it. It numbs the pain."

"Yeah, I bet you just hate your job."

"Worst day at work ever."

"Does the video at least look good?" I ask.

"Hopefully, the dailies look good, but the proof's in the edit. If you're around you can come with me when they screen it."

"Cool."




Maybe I should be more freaked by the fact that he's releasing a very dirty song about me, but it's not like it'll be me he's sexing up in the video. And it's not like anybody but him and probably Trace and Rachael knows it's about me. I might have told Lily if she'd ever been present for me to do so. It'd be a lie though if I said I was as fine with the song as I let on. As far as Justin's concerned I'm amused and flattered, but if I'm honest it makes me a little uncomfortable.

Actually, if I'm being honest our whole history makes me a little uncomfortable. That ridiculous lie he told still lingers between us like a bad smell sometimes, but it's more than that. Being friends with Steve comes absolutely naturally to me; we even stopped ourselves from having benefits sex while he was here because we both agreed it was more emotional hassle than a quickie was worth. But Justin… maybe it's because we were in such an unrealistic little bubble for a while there. Maybe it's because thinking we would never see each other again made us drop our inhibitions more than we'd have ever dared if we knew that our paths would cross again. Whatever the reason behind it, there's this weird knot of emotion I feel in regards to him that confuses me sometimes. I know it's not love, but it's not simple friendship either and it's a head fuck right when I don't need another one.




Finally the music is turned off. His hand has stopped playing with my hair and is now running along my arm and shoulder, occasionally stopping to massage it with his thumb.

"At least they finally turned that shit off. It wasn't even good music."

"Well next time I have a bunch of cokeheads over I'll be sure to tell them that you're the DJ."

"Fuck, it's late," he says as he twists his wrist to look at what I imagine is a very expensive watch. It's all bling encrusted and in my opinion, not actually that nice. Diamonds may be pretty but that doesn't necessarily mean they'll look good if you throw them over everything.

I glance at the clock and see he's right. "Good job I don't have to be up early. Day off."

"Me too, since the video's wrapped." He lets out a big yawn, and suddenly I feel awful for letting him sit here and listen to me complain. He's been working really long hours for two days straight; it's unfair of me to keep him awake. Especially when he was so considerate rushing over here to check my wimp of a self was okay.

"It's too late to be driving home babe, you can stay here if you like."

"Normally I'd insist I was fine but I'm too fucked to protest. Where's your bathroom?"

"Next door," I answer through a wide yawn, pointing haphazardly in the right direction. Thankfully, the loud chatter is starting to die down and I hear the front door opening and shutting. At least some of them are leaving.

"Thanks."

"No, thank you babe," I tell him. "This was above and beyond."

"Hey, what are friends for?"

I give him a sleepy smile before wondering whether I can really be bothered to change into my pyjamas or if it's easier and less effort to sleep in my sweats.

Hee, a real life someone inspired SME... they had a different but equally profane acronym on a similar theme, but I cunningly worked out in my head that SME was catchier

Chapter Thirty One - Two Sides To Every Story



"Morning."

"Morning."

"Addy's just gone out, not sure where. You're welcome to hang around and wait a while if you like."

"Oh, thanks."

"Breakfast? I was about to do some eggs, you like scrambled?"

"Uhh, sure, thank you."

I have to say this was the last thing I was expecting this morning. It's about ten, but after two long days of shooting and a late night listening to Addy freak out over a little cocaine… well, coming downstairs and having Lily brightly saying hello and offering me eggs wasn't how I envisioned this going. Still, she looks entirely too alert for somebody who spent last night wasted, so I'm guessing she didn't partake in the lines.

It's weird - my image of Addy as a laidback character has taken its strongest hit since I first bumped back into her and she was pissed about the occupational white lie I told her. You'd think after living on an island full of clubs and tourists she'd be a little more acquainted with drugs, but she was freaked. I did my best to tell her it wasn't a big deal, but it's hard to do that without sounding like you're trivialising or condoning shit. I could have told her that there a number of high powered industries with coke running through them and most people still function pretty well, but she seems to equate any and all drug use with being a total crack head. Trying to gently explain that there are places between the addict and clean extremes and the odd night here and there while not great is probably not going to kill anybody was a waste of time I could have spent sleeping.

Still, it was fucked up of Lily to bring that shit in here. That group was obnoxious and it's Addy's home too; it's not fair to bring back a bunch of assholes that are going to take over, bring drugs in and keep her up until some insane time in the morning. If they wanted to do that they should have gone home with somebody who didn't have a room mate to disturb. When Trace and I lived together we had to have that agreement - he knew that sometimes I had shows or promo to do and needed my beauty sleep, so they took the party to somebody else's house. If I was up and awake, it was fair game - but then he didn't bring back anybody I didn't already know.




"So how are you this fine morning?"

Yes, she is definitely too perky to have been on anything. "Cool, little tired."

A frown passes over her face as she reaches into a cupboard and pulls out a mixing bowl and a whisk. "Yeah, I'm really sorry about that, I couldn't get rid of them."

"Rid of them?" I question curiously as without being asked she grabs a glass and pushes it plus the carton of orange juice towards me. I'm hoping that she's going to put enough coffee in the pot for me too. "I thought they were with you."

"They were, but…" She pulls a face at me as she opens a fresh carton of eggs and inspects them for defects or cracks. "Only about half of them are my usual crowd. After the bar closed they all wanted to go back to somebody's and I got volunteered since I have the biggest place, which was fine, but then we got back here and they started blaring that crap music and tipping drugs all over my nice clean table and no matter how many times I told them they needed to go so I could clear up and get to bed they wouldn't leave. Wankers."

"Oh. Way it looked I thought you were all together."

"Well, speed at which you and Addy bolted through here I'm not surprised it looked that way." She doesn't say it in an accusatory way, just gives a light shrug. "Nah, I was out with my usual crowd and they're friends of friends of someone or whatever. They kind of invited themselves."

"Oh. Because I think Addy got the impression they were with you." Has anyone else notice that I'm saying 'oh' a lot?

"Fuck no. From the way they were knocking it back I think they're all total druggies. They'd already drained the bar before we even got back here and they started on coke." Lily shakes her head in disgust and red hair falls out of her ponytail, brushing back across her face. "My lot might do it once in a while but they're not arseholes enough to do it in my house."

"So you don't?" I ask casually, running my finger slowly around the rim of my glass in thought. I don't really care if she does or not, just curious. It seems like Addy got totally the wrong end of the stick last night.

"In the past I have, all of about twice. Never did much for me."

"Me neither."




"So…" Lily looks at me and suddenly I get exactly what Addy meant when she said you can't hide anything from this girl. I don't know if it's purely the green eyes and that slightly piercing quality they have simply by virtue of being an unusual colour, but it's like she's looking through me. If she asks me for my credit card number right now she might just get it - lucky for me she won't ask since she's rich anyway. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Uhh, sure." Oh God, she is going to interrogate me, I knew it.

"How's Addy?"

That's an interesting question. She lives with her for Pete's sake (who is Pete anyway? Pete Wentz?), she should know - and even if she doesn't, why is she asking me instead of Addy? And how do I voice those questions without sounding like a total ass to a woman I barely know?

"Why do you ask?" I sip my juice and try to look equally inquisitorial. I fail, but never mind.

"Because lately she doesn't talk to me and since the last time she did that we were thirteen it scares me shitless."

She's very matter of fact about it, and in the same vein I decide the direct approach is called for. I have no basis for that really; I'm not subtle enough to be able to manipulate this conversation (or any) in that clever sneaky way my mom does when she wants to dig for info, so direct it is.

"That's interesting. Way she tells it you're never here and you never talk to her."

"Really?" She purses her lips and frowns deeply, eyebrows furrowing together in a tight crease above her nose. "Bloody hell. Damned if I know what goes on in that girl's head."

It might be I'm imagining it, but she seems a little forceful as she cracks the eggs into the bowl and starts beating them. Her wrist is moving at a speed nobody but my grandmother is capable of when cooking normally - it's the kind of speed that can usually only be achieved when fuelled by being pissed off. If this was Trace I'd be throwing things out and speculating, see what I get back, but I don't know Lily well enough so sitting back and waiting for her to talk seems like a better idea. Girls always seem to want to talk more about this stuff than guys anyway, so I doubt it'll be long before she does.

It takes her a few moments though. "How much of her life did Addy tell you about last year?" She asks finally.

"Umm… bits and pieces. I probably know more than most but less than some."

"Did she ever mention Rob?"

"Rob? Doesn't ring a bell." "Well, he was this guy who came over from the UK for a holiday, they got together and…"

"Oh wait, wait, wait," I interrupt. "Is this the guy who said he was going to move out there to live with her and then came back with a fiancée in tow?"

"Oh, so she did tell you."

"Real briefly, never got a name though." Now I'm intrigued, what does this have to do with him? As far as I'm aware she hasn't seen him and years, and why would it make her not talk to Lily?

"How much did she say?"

"Heavy thing, he broke her heart, she's never dating a tourist again."

"That's the bare bones, yeah… but it sounds like what she probably didn't tell you is she had a pretty nasty spot of depression after him. Stopped eating, stopped going out, generally worried the shit out of everybody until she got sent to counselling because her mum thought she was anorexic. After that she seemed to snap out of it, though I'm still not entirely convinced she ever got over it properly." Lily explains as she pours the now liquid eggs into a pan and turns the heat on.

Maybe I should feel guilty for not offering to do something; I am a guest in her home after all. Seems a little rude to just sit here and let her wait on me when she barely knows me. Though, I am used to that. It's a pop star thing, people fall all over themselves in really unnecessary ways.

As I'm thinking such mundane things Lily continues on, stirring with one hand and tapping her other fingers against the counter as she does. "Well, I'm having a serious case of déjà vu, because this feels a lot like that again. She's buried herself in this job even though I know it's not really her cup of tea, she always looks like she hasn't slept and I've given up trying to talk to her."

"But she says she's given up trying to talk to you," I butt in. "She says you're never around."

"I'm not now but that was after I gave up, not before, so if she was trying to talk to me she was doing a good job hiding it." She lets out a mournful sigh. "I kept trying to get her out to meet people but she just didn't want to know. I'd wait up for her to get home from work but even then she didn't want to do anything except stare at the TV or something, always said she was too tired to go out even if it was just dinner. To be honest, I think you've become pretty much the only person she'll drag her arse out for and after a while I had to leave her be. I can lead a horse to water but I can't make it drink, and in the meantime it was making me just as miserable sitting in all the time waiting for her to talk to me. I love her, but as my dad rightly says you can't save somebody by sinking with them."




Fucking hell, I was not expecting this.

It makes me supremely uncomfortable because it reminds me way too much of what Rachael said when she thought I wasn't there - that Addy's depressed, won't go out except with us and negative all the time. I don't get it though, she seems fine with me. A little overworked and out of her comfort zone being in LA rather than somewhere more like Adora, but it's not like I look at her and think she's depressed or something. Because if what Lily's saying she's been like now is true, you add that to a history and it actually kind of sounds like she's maybe ill or relapsing or something. And I'd have no idea what the fuck to do with that, never really been around anybody with any mental health issues going on. I'd have no idea how to help.

Trying to equate that with the Addy I've known in LA is hard, because I can't comfortably fit her in either category. It's true that she's not as full of the joys of life as she was on Adora - I can't imagine her coaxing me to kiss her in a lightning storm in downtown Hollywood or anything - but she laughs, she smiles, she makes jokes the same. This not eating thing is news to me, I've seen nothing questionable about her eating habits while she's been with me. Maybe you'd need more knowledge on the subject to accurately assess the situation, I don't know, but if you asked me I'd never think she needed counselling or meds or anything.

It's also only now striking me that I have been having what could be termed a fairly personal conversation about her with the childhood best friend she's barely speaking to. Am I breaking confidences or crossing a line here? Is this even any of my business? I know I have a huge nose but that doesn't mean I like to poke it in where it's not wanted.




"Ahh, I shouldn't drag you into this. She's still talking to you, let's keep it that way." Lily gives me a tight smile and no matter which version of events is the right one, I feel sorry for her. Whatever this thing is standing between them, she looks like she wants it gone.

"Cool," I say as she starts scooping eggs onto plates of toast I hadn't even seen her prepare. Was I really that zoned out? And why is she pouring ketchup on her eggs? Gross.

"So, tell me about you. Your album's out soon, right?"

"About six weeks. Video's premiering next week, I just finished shooting yesterday."

"Oh yeah, I remember helping Jessica pick out a few outfits for it a while ago."

As part of our fusion line deal, we agreed to showcase some of Elena's designs in the video. It's all very subtly done, there's no branding in the picture; I'll just need to mention in a few interviews that she's the designer. I hate those videos that are basically product placements for Nokia or whoever.

"Yep. I haven't seen the final edit yet though."

"What's it about?" She asks in an interested tone as she passes me a very nice looking plate of eggs. They're just the right colour and fluffy; making good scrambled eggs is an art.

"Well," I say as I fork some up. My momma taught me not to speak with my mouth full, but I ignore her advice unless she's here to witness it and smack me upside my head. "It's basically me meeting a girl I used to date in a club with her new guy and then me having flashbacks of when I was with her, except instead of a fight or a hook up or whatever at the end we just kind of acknowledge each other and walk away. It looks better than it sounds."

"No, I can see it." She nods. I find this sometimes with creative types, even if they're not musicians - when you're used to working in any kind of visual medium you can usually picture others pretty well, even if it's not your own. "Sounds cool. I know the song's been on the radio but I haven't had time to give it a proper listen yet."

"Steal Addy's laptop, I gave her the whole album to put on there."

"Hmm." The smile she gives is slightly wistful, but genuine. "And to think last year she thought you worked in a bank, now she's getting exclusives."

"Actually…" I pull my phone out of my pocket and start flicking through my photo gallery. "Maybe you can help me out."

"How so?"

I find the picture I want, me with the model who played my ex, and show it to her. "My friends think she's Addy's twin but I don't see it. Tell it to me straight?"

Lily puffs up her cheeks and lets the air out in a long expression of doubt. "Umm… sorry, but I'm with them. They're not totally alike but I don't know how you could not see it."

"Fuck." I scratch at the back of my neck, because this news is not good.




No matter what shit Rachael and Trace said it was never my intention to cast an Addy lookalike; that would make her really uncomfortable. Fuck, now I've heard it from an unbiased source it makes me really fucking uncomfortable. Addy isn't completely unknown to the press - when they failed to get any pictures of us so much as holding hands or whatever they finally gave up on the idea that we're a couple, but they could very well read into this exactly the same way Rachael did. It's bullshit, and if there was any subconscious part of my brain that intended this it would only be because the song's about her and not because of any current lovin' going on, but even I can see how that looks. Hmm. I might have to call the director with the sudden bright idea of never really letting the audience see her face. If we have the camera angles to support that, which is a big if.

Fuck. Apart from the eggs, this has not been a good morning so far.