Paradise Lost *new chapter 9th October*
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ItalianHB |
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holy crap that was hot - too bad for justin that it didnt really happen!!! maybe eventually something between the two of them will happen again !
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insomniachollie |
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Sorry to disappoint but this one will be a little less steamy
Chapter Twenty Eight - All The Small Things "Hey there gorgeous!" "Oh my God I love you!" I squeal as Trace dangles a Starbucks cup in front of me. I have no idea what's even in it but I love him for getting me caffeine. Today has been crazily busy and I barely have time to even get up and get water, never mind make coffee which requires time and water boiling. "Hope you don't mind a plain latte, we couldn't get through on the phone to ask you." Rachael has taken the liberty of stepping behind my desk to give me a hello hug, but I'm happy for her to do so. She's quite the opposite of most of my friends - she's not very girly - but she's very easy to chat to so we've been getting on well. She's not Lily, but as far as substitutes go I could find far worse. "Hey, how come she doesn't get a snotty 'respect the desk,' what's that about?" Trace says through chuckles. "Because she's prettier than you." I take Rachael's wide grin and second hug as a seal of approval. "But what are you guys doing here?" "We came to see if you wanted to join us for dinner later?" It strikes me as odd to come over personally to do that, but then I remember that they couldn't get through on the phone. Then I add that thought to the Starbucks and wonder whether this dinner invitation idea came before or after they decided to stop by. Generally speaking you don't turn up with coffee in hand just to ask somebody to dinner. That is no way a complaint, however, because if this latte isn't a life saver it is definitely a sanity saver. I am really fed up of people leaving their expenses until the last minute before the deadline and then expecting me to get them checked in time along with the other twenty people who did the same as well as my usual work. I finally decided to prioritise in favour of those who are in lower paid jobs and as such will have more fiscal issues if they're late paying their credit card bills. It may or may not be coincidence that they tend to have shorter expense claims. "I can't, Steve's arriving later." I can't wait - firstly because Steve is awesome, and secondly because I have three beautiful days off to spend with him. I can't wait. There's going to be a lot to cram in because he wants to see as much of the place as possible, but then hanging with Steve is usually a whirlwind of madness and zany capers anyway. So it'll be nothing new. "Bring him too. Well, so long as he ain't likely to go all weird because of Justin." At first I wonder why Rachael would bring that up, I don't see why the ex thing should be a problem for Steve and can't even remember telling her Steve was the one after Justin anyway. Then I remember that the ex in question is famous and a lot of people go weird around him as a matter of course, whether they've slept with me or not. "Okay…" I grab my mouse and click into my e-mail so I can check my calendar. I also have a traditional date book, but my date book doesn't handily give me fifteen and five minute reminders. "Well, his flight's due in at seven, but by the time he's done passport control and baggage claim we're not getting out of there until at least eight, I reckon." "We'll make it eight thirty then. I'll give you a text when we know where," Rachael tells me decisively. I still have no idea where half the places they describe are, but thankfully I now know enough of the roads in LA that I have a vague idea of what roads Rachael is talking about when she gives me directions. As a brand new driver it doesn't help being in an unfamiliar city, but Trace and Justin have both offered to go out with me one day on a sort of driver orientation thing. Given how insanely busy Justin is right now I'm putting my stock in Trace for that one. "Mr Ayala, what a pleasant surprise." Alex has appeared out of nowhere and is shaking Trace's hand. A neutral expression has passed over Trace's face and it's a pretty convincing one, but since I know that he and Justin generally refer to Alex as Dickwad I can just tell what he's really thinking. I don't know how many dealings Rachael's had with him but even so I'll bet Justin and Trace have put her off the guy. "Nice to see you again." "Did you have an appointment or…?" "No, we just stopped by to see Addy." Damn it, nobody really knew that I have any personal relations with any of the William Rast crew, and I can see the gears in Alex's head whirring round. "That's great. Did you get my expenses off, Addy?" Actually his are at the bottom of the pile because he dropped me in it with that lunch and also I know how insanely well he's paid. Don't get me wrong, Alex is cool, but sometimes his sense of entitlement grows a little larger than is genuinely warranted. He's a smart guy who works hard, everything he's got he's earned, but sometimes he forgets that once upon a time he was as overworked and underpaid as his underlings now are. I'm not stupid enough to do anything petty to him or take it upon myself to teach him a lesson or some ridiculous crap, that's really unprofessional and really not my place, but I don't feel too guilty about him being on the bottom of the pile. He always does this and I've already unfairly prioritised him on more than one occasion. "Sorry Alex but there were a lot of late submissions and yours were the last ones handed into me." That's only slightly untrue, they were the second to last ones handed in but the last ones were David's and unlike Alex he was extremely apologetic and brought me a conciliatory cookie. Plus since David's usually bang on time with his it's easily forgiven. "I'll try but I can't promise." He gives me that 'just remember I'm senior to you' look and then says goodbye to Trace and Rachael. He's barely turned the corner before Trace rolls his eyes and says "dickwad." "Hey, be nice." Even if he can be a bit of a wanker on occasion, Alex is generally alright. I do think Justin and Trace are a tad unfair to him - he's not really any cockier than Justin, though he lacks the charisma to mask it as well. "Anyway, we gotta jet but eight thirty?" I nod. "Yep. Can't wait." "I suppose it's pointless if I say Lily's welcome too?" I give a shrug and a sheepish smile, but he's just struck a nerve. Lily is still playing the invisible woman and whenever I do see her there are humungous purple circles under her eyes. I'd say she was burning the candle at both ends, but that doesn't sufficiently cover it. If she ever sleeps at all, it's certainly not in our apartment. After the hundredth futile attempt to check in with her I've stopped even bothering to go down to the workshop to talk to her. Clearly whatever she's doing she doesn't want me involved so she can have it her way; I'm not her mother, she's a big girl who can make her own bed and lie in it. "See you later." *** "Fucking bloody hell," Steve breathes out as soon as we're alone at the table. I'm not sure, but he may have been holding his breath ever since we got here and he realised who Justin was. He knew Justin was the guy before him, but as much as I probably should have prepared him in the car I just couldn't really find the right way to tell him. Besides, he was chatting nineteen to the dozen in his usual Steve way, it would have been hard to get a word in edgeways. "Yous might have said." "It's not a big deal." I shrug. "I'm just fucking glad you didn't tell me you'd shagged Justin Timberlake before we got it together, like, I might have had performance anxiety." That makes me bust out laughing - firstly because Steve is just funny when he comes out with things like that, and secondly because I can't imagine him ever having performance anxiety. Apart from being a horny little git, he's so confident bricks would probably bounce off him. He's not cocky in the way that Justin or Alex is; he's got nothing to prove even to himself let alone anyone else, he's just very quietly self assured. Whereas Justin I think has things to prove to himself and Alex has them to prove to everyone else. It is definitely funny how even similarities can come from such very different places in a person's head. Steve, to give him credit, has been pretty calm. The only real giveaway that he was at all ruffled was the uncharacteristic reserve. He's still been companionable and has chatted away happily to everyone else at the table, but he's not his usual larger than life self. Normally he's one of those people who can dominate a conversation without even trying, purely because he's so enthusiastic, but tonight he's toned it down a lot. Thankfully he and Justin seem to like each other well enough - not instant buddies but perfectly pleasant and friendly. Sometimes I wish I had Steve's ability to be so sociable. He even took it well when Trace said he had the most incomprehensible accent 'in the history of ever.' I, on the other hand, gave him a swift kicking in the table for that. "God, this place is right upmarket. You're not in Cassio's now are yous?" Cassio's is the incongruously named fish and chip shop on Playa Del Sol. The very Adoran owner quickly worked out that British tourists often scorn local cuisine in favour of eating just like they would at home (which strikes me as a waste of money, if you want to act and eat like you're in Britain you might as well have stayed there), so he opened up a very English fish and chip shop and makes an absolute fortune out of it. That said, since the fish is fresh caught it's still a step up from your usual local grease pit back home. Since it's right next to the resort where Steve used to work, we ate there a lot. The owner (Pedro, not Cassio), liked us since he quickly worked out we spoke la lengua and that we often opted for the Adoran options on the menu too. It's amazing how much nicer the locals were to people who even attempted to speak Spanish - not that they were rude to the rest, but English people are appalling for just assuming everywhere speaks English. I once watched Pedro patiently wait for a tourist to rifle through her phrase book and then murder the phrase 'one cod and chips please,' only to very nicely in English congratulate her on her pronunciation even though it was terrible. He was a sweetie. This place - I forget its name - is a world away from the white tiles and greasy smell of Cassio's. The seats are covered in artfully distressed brown leather, the walls are a warm cream colour with expensive looking paintings strategically placed around the room, and the lights are kept low. The closest Pedro got to decoration was a community notice board which was usually covered in flyers for various bar promotions. The food seems more decorative than anything else, coming in small but expensive portions. Steve's eyes bugged out of his head when he saw the menu, until Justin announced that it was all on him because he finally beat the record company down and he breathed a sigh of relief. I haven't had a chance to ask him about what yet, but I know Steve's grateful whatever it was because the most he'd have been able to afford would be a small starter salad. Though given that I ordered salad as a main and it's pretty small, I dread to think what starter size would look like. "Definitely not," I agree as Steve slings his arm around the back of my chair. "God, it's weird thinking of yous in this place. Nothing like Adora." "You get used to it." I give him a shrug. It's true actually; I'm still kind of stressed out, but I'm getting to a point where I've got a better balance going on. Justin has been very helpful with that actually. I really ought to get him something as a token of appreciation, he's insanely busy with promotion right now but he's still been taking time to show me round a few places. Sadly that means I have now appeared in more than one magazine as Justin's 'mystery lady' (paparazzi are evil sons of bitches) but he's already been on Ellen and told her that I'm merely a friend and the magazines are full of shit, so they've eased off a bit. "Shame Lil couldn't make it out, she on the razz tonight?" "And every night." I tried to make a joke of it but I sounded bitter and I know it. "Without you?" He asks perceptively. "Yep. Fine though, she's entitled to her own life." Before Steve can dig any further Justin is back from the bathroom. Flashing me a broad grin, he starts digging back into his pasta. "I was just saying to Addy like that it's a far cry from Cassio's," Steve says conversationally. I'm grateful that he's sensitive enough to realise that I don't want a big discussion about Lily. Apart from the fact that I'm still kind of sore about the whole thing, I don't like broadcasting my issues at what's supposed to be a fun dinner. "Cassio's?" Justin asks. "You never took him to Cassio's?" Steve asks me in mock horror. "How could you deprive him?" "Yes, because taking a pop star into one of the busiest tourist spots on the island would be such a good plan." I haven't mentioned to Steve that I didn't know who Justin was to begin with and I don't plan to. I wish I could forget it myself - sometimes I catch myself questioning even little things he says to me, even though I know I'm only being paranoid. "True. Those people get excitable enough over the water park, show 'em a celebrity and there'd be a stampede." "Yeah, those aren't fun. Trust me." "Yeah, bet you been in a few, like. Still, bet you've shagged some nice birds out of it, I wouldn't say no to that Cameron Diaz." "Steve!" I elbow him hard in the ribs, horrified. Justin smiles and nods, but I can tell that he's heard this before and it didn't amuse him then, either. "A gentleman never tells." "Sorry, you'll 'ave to excuse me and me big gob, shit comes out before I remember I shouldn't. Me mam always told me that I needed to be seen and not heard." Thankfully Justin cracks a slight more genuine smile at that, though I still mouth another 'sorry' at him. I love Steve but sometimes he really doesn't work the brakes on his big fat mouth like he should. At least to his credit he usually realises that he shouldn't have in order to apologise in timely fashion. "I know that feeling. Hey, at least you ain't dumb enough to do it in front of a reporter." "Only by default because they're not interested." Steve rubs my shoulder and I grab at his fingers, holding his hand. I catch Justin eyeing up this interaction with a thoughtful expression on his face, but when I catch his eye he only winks at me. Sometimes I really can't work out what goes on in his head; I just know that he's more intelligent than he usually gets given credit for and it gives me some cause for worry when I can't work out what he might or might not be thinking. "Oh but you can bet if they were you would," I tell him while pushing my fork around my plate. I haven't been especially hungry lately; even the salad seems like too much. "Yep, it's a talent. Remember the time on the roof when I accidentally let slip to your Dad that we'd been at it up there?" Now Justin's narrowed his eyes at me and I can just tell that his meaning is 'but that was our spot.' I knew that getting two ex boyfriends together in the same place was a bad plan. Why did I do this again? "You mean the way you just let it slip to a guy you only just met?" I say after letting go of his hand and folding my arms in annoyance. "Oh God, sorry!" Steve smacks his hand against his forehead and looks apologetically at me and then Justin. Clearly Justin's presence still makes him nervous, because even he and his big mouth aren't usually this bad. I dread to think what clanger he's going to drop next. "Don't worry. I can always use more blackmail material." Justin's blue eyes glitter evilly at me and I visibly cringe. I'm really starting to wish I'd taken Steve straight home and ordered Chinese. "Just remember that I have pictures, buddy," I say as I dig back into my salad with far more interest than I had a minute ago. If I'm looking at my fork I don't have to look at Justin. |
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ItalianHB |
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hahahahah never never a good idea to get 2 ex's together - but its def fun to see!!
looking fwd to the next chapter |
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glowbug narking tony |
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Already reviewed over at NF but just wanted to add, nikole's wrong, I would never hurt you. *adjusts halo* and I am not that short, damnit.
Oh, also, what the hell is going on with Lily? All sounding a bit suspicious. |
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insomniachollie |
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Being short's good. People underestimate you *lol*
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. |
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glowbug narking tony |
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Okay, Rachael's being a bitch and none of these things occurred to me beforehand, but pretty much all of her theories are on point.
Um, and I love you for referencing Audrey Hepburn. That is all. |
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ItalianHB |
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Whew damn rachael is being very very bitchy but she is bringing up some valid points.
loved the chapter and i'm looking fwd to more! |
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glowbug narking tony |
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Quick random sidenote- I realized today at work that I've started adapting "in the history of ever" into my everyday conversation. I realized
this when I said it to one of my producers and he looked at me like I was drunk/stoned/generally out of my mind.
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insomniachollie |
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Oh my God I just cackled right out loud. I'm brainwashing you, that is just class!!
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glowbug narking tony |
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Evil!
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insomniachollie |
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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. |
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glowbug narking tony |
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While I think she's overreacting a tad to the whole concept of people doing drugs in general, I would flip my SHIT if anybody brought that into my home.
It's one thing to be out at a club and do whatever you like, another entirely to bring it to someone's home you don't even know. And more than that
- Lily is officially on my shit list. That's incredibly rude and disrespectful if you're just someone's roommate, nevermind the person's
supposed best friend. Bullshit on all counts.
That said, I'm now going to have to find someone who fits the "SME" bill so I can incorporate that into everyday situations. |
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insomniachollie |
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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
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glowbug narking tony |
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Well now I want to hear the other acronym! I might prefer it, in real life, you know.
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insomniachollie |
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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. |
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glowbug narking tony |
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The Pete Wentz line literally made me snort. As the woman from HR who I loathe walked by. Thanks for that.
Hate to say it, but Lily's making all kinds of sense and this doesn't bode well for things to come...now I'm all anxious and shit. Damn you, woman! |
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ItalianHB |
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i have to agree with glowbug - this doesnt sit well - something is def wrong with addy and i just hope that maybe between lily and justin they can do sometihng
about it.
loved this chapter - more sooon! lol |
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insomniachollie |
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Chapter Thirty Two - Confused Much?
One of these days, I am going to have a nice steady workload. It'll be busy enough to stop me getting bored, but not so huge that I spend my day running around at the speed normally reserved for when Freddy Krueger is on your heels. Alas, today is not that day. Almost all of the executives are on some business trip to New York with Elena, which means my area of the building is pretty much dead. My workload comes from them and without them… I get to sit here and file my nails in my best secretary cliché impression. There are a few other people who give me stuff, but mostly it's their PAs who are in the same no-work boat as me so asking them is no good. Everybody downstairs is still bustling with business as usual, but since what I do has little to do with them it's no good asking if they want help. For a couple of hours or so, it was great. I caught up on my e-mails, wasted some time on Facebook and read a few news sites so I could feel knowledgeable about current affairs. Now I'm just bored out of my skull but I can't leave because somebody still has to be here in case the phone rings. Everybody else decided they'd go out for a nice long lunch since the bosses aren't here and somehow I got disinvited and volunteered to stay behind. I'm still unsure how this feat was accomplished, especially when I never agreed to it, but unfortunately I'm stuck here now. I hear the lift ping and automatically look up towards the doors. They creak open with that worrying sound I've been bugging maintenance to take a look at and a familiar head of red hair is behind them. Lily strides out looking purposeful (and very chic in knee high boots and Roland Mouret) and then hops up to sit on the counter in front of me with a cheery smile. Given that I haven't set eyes on Lily in about three days, this is strange. "I have a present for you," she announces. It's not unusual for her to skip pleasantries; we've known each other too long. "Oh?" I squeak, unsure how to process the way she's acting like nothing's out of the ordinary. "Mmmhmm. Daddy was on business in Milan and bought me and Mum some new watches, except Mum didn't want hers so she sent them both to me and I do not need two watches, so you are going to take the other." Sometimes I wonder when that girl pauses for breath. The fact that she wants to offload what is likely to be an extremely expensive item on me isn't what I'm raising an eyebrow at; that happens a lot. Her dad is very generous to her and she in turn is generous with her friends. He gives her a lot of stuff she doesn't necessarily want or like and she claims to see it as us helping her out if we take it off her hands. I just don't understand how she can avoid me for weeks, bring a bunch of crack heads into our living room and say nothing but then three days later she's plonking herself on my desk and throwing designer goods at me. What the blazes is going on in her head? Lily is apparently oblivious to what I imagine is a pretty perplexed expression on my face. She's too busy digging in her bag (naturally, it's a Birkin). "I couldn't decide which one I wanted so I figured I'd let you pick. The white one's just the right side of tacky but cute and the blue one is really nice but might be limiting in outfit choices." Now I have to take back what I said about being unfazed by her giving me stuff; she's just put two bling encrusted Dolce & Gabbana watches down in front of me. I'm fairly sure the bling is real (it would be just like her Dad to pick something like this, his taste does lean to the ostentatious sometimes). The white one has a leopard print face (I assume that's why she called it tacky), and the blue one is cute but a very bright blue which would indeed be ensemble challenging. "No, Lil, I can't." I couldn't take a gift that expensive and I couldn't take any gift while she's being so weird. "Yes you can. Now choose before I flip a coin and choose for you." I look away at my computer screen as if it could tell me what to do; how the hell do I react to this? I don't get her. "Fine." In the blink of an eye she's called heads for blue and flipped a quarter. Why do I get the feeling she was prepared for me to protest? "Tails. You get the white one missy. Probably a good idea, electric blue and fuchsia are a bad mix; that dress is wicked, by the way." "What are you on?" Is the only question I can think to ask after she's taken the liberty of fishing my rather less expensive bag from under my desk and throwing a watch that probably costs more than the collective contents of my bedroom. I suspect I'd probably choke if I saw the price tag. "I was stupid enough to participate in two Starbucks runs today. Caramel frappuccinos should come with a health warning on them, way too much sugar." "Oh." Not my most articulate response ever but the best I can come up with. "Anyway, that's not actually why I came up here, I need you." "You need me?" "Well, more like I'm going to pretend to need you because I'm taking a bunch of stuff over to… uhh… some studio somewhere… wherever, it's for Justin and his dancers and I figure it'll be far more entertaining if you come with me. I have to stand around and wait for them to be done and make sure they don't so much as pull a thread which is going to be extremely dull even if it is at a show, plus I figure Justin will want to see you way more than me so it works all round." "Umm…" I need some aspirin. I have no idea what's going on here and I don't understand why she's acting like everything's all rosy again and it's giving me a headache. "And I saw them going out without you and leaving you to handle all this by yourself which is pretty bloody rude, so I'm thinking you'll be able to rub it in that in their absence you got chosen to handle Mr Timberlake. Not literally, obviously, though of course if they knew you'd already done that too their silly little heads would explode. But anyway, all you need to do is forward your phone to Carla's desk; she said she could take messages until they get back." Well, she's got this all worked out. That makes it awkward to say no since she's already shot down every excuse I might have made. What is going on with her? Does she want a useful go between so that relations with Justin's team run smoother or something? I know she met Justin a few days ago since they were having breakfast when I got back, so she can't need an introduction. What's her game? "Did I mention that this is mandatory and if you don't come willingly I will drag you?" "Fine, fine," I groan. Sometimes it's better to go along with her, even if you do know there's got to be a catch somewhere. She is an unstoppable force but I am not an immovable object, so she's going to win every time. The only question is how much energy I waste fighting and I am not in the mood right now. "Great!" She smiles brightly at me. "We'll pick up lunch on the way and I promise it'll be much nicer than wherever they were going." "Tao," I answer. "Yuck and double yuck. Crystal works there and she says she knows at least one waiter really does spit in the food, so you can guess I haven't been there since." For the first time all day, the corners of my lips may have curled up a little bit. *** "Hey English." Justin plants a quick kiss on the top of my head as he gives me a hug to say hello. I almost feel a little silly - apart from the fact that too many TV crew members are peering interestedly out of the corners of their eyes at everything he does, I feel sheepish after the last time I saw him. It's not like I don't know that people take drugs. Hell, it's not like I didn't know that Lily has in the past known people who do, so why it should surprise me that in La-La Land she knows a few more I'm not sure. It was a total overreaction and it's embarrassing that he saw me so frantic. Well, maybe not a total overreaction. Bringing it into the apartment and keeping me awake until all hours is still utterly rude and wrong and generally not on. He was so good about it though; I think that's what embarrasses me most. It was so obvious that he thought I was making Everest out of a molehill but he never said that to me and he just tried to put it to me in a way he thought I'd get. Sometimes it really frustrates me when I'm so silly about stuff in front of him. Lord knows he must have the patience of a saint to put up with me, but then Lord knows what he thinks about watching the crazy woman getting wound up over nothing. It doesn't exactly show me off at my most flattering. "Hey Memphis," I greet him as I hug him back. "Lily," he gives her the nod. "What are you ladies doing here?" "I have to be here to look after the outfits and I dragged her because I didn't want to get bored waiting around on my own." "You should have let me know, I could have organised for you to come with us this morning." "Nah, you're good, we had work and a lunch date." "Oh? Nice." It sounds totally innocent to those not in the know, but I am in the know and there was definitely a tone. It was a tone meant for me, too. He's subtly asking me what's going on with me and Lily, as well he might when he spent a good few hours listening to me fret about the state of our friendship a few nights ago. "Sorry, I got dragged at the last minute otherwise I'd have texted you." That was my (hopefully) equally subtle answer to his unspoken question. "Cool. Well we'll most likely be late here but if you feel like a late dinner you're welcome to join us, Rach is cooking at home." "You mean you'd just dump two extra guests on her without warning?" I poke him in the ribs. "And you wonder why she takes the piss out of you; it's vengeance." "I think six hours is fair warning," he retorts. "Interested?" "I have a date so count me out, sorry. Some other time? You can come over to ours and I can talk Addy into letting me pretend her paella was a joint effort." "You can't fool me, I have already tasted the heaven and you were nowhere to be seen." Well, at least he likes my cooking even if he does think I'm a naïve ball of hysteria. Apparently I do have some redeeming qualities - though he's just like Steve, ruled by his stomach. I could've beaten Steve's mother to death with a frying pan and he'd have forgiven me if I made him my lemon meringue. Well, it's my mum's actually, but I call it mine. Consider it my inheritance. "Darn it. What have I told you about not giving away my secret?" Lily jokes, squeezing my arm. I can't help tensing up when she does it. It's not that I don't want her to be my pal again, it's just that this level of friendly affection has been conspicuously absent for a while now and nothing she is doing right now is giving me any clues as to why it's back. Maybe it says more about me than her that I find it so suspicious when a lifelong friend is being nice to me, but I can't comprehend the sudden turn around. I'd understand if there had been some kind of trigger, like maybe we'd cleared the air or she'd had a bad time and had needed to speak to me or something, but she's brought this totally out of left field. It's… ugh. Perhaps it's only me being paranoid. My mother always said my need to control everything and know exactly what was behind everything was only going to bring me stress. I replied that surely it would mean I knew what was going on and could relax because I'd be prepared, but she rolled her eyes at me and said I needed to learn that seeking to know and understand everything was an exercise in futility and I'd only piss myself off trying. Especially when it comes to other people, she said. Maybe she was right. "Heh! Addy has no secrets from me. How is Mr Floppy, by the way?" Oh fuck. Way to drop me in it, Timberlake - I'm not supposed to tell anybody about him. *** "You alright?" Trace asks me as he stretches out lazily on the couch next to me. Lily is currently with Justin's stylist watching her like a hawk and protesting every time she even thinks of pinning something, so until he sat down I was Billy No Mates. They're filming some one hour TV show thing where Justin sings a few songs and takes audience questions, so everybody is hustling and bustling and I'm lurking in a dark corner feeling like the fourth corner on a triangle (yes, I do know there are only three corners on a triangle, that's kind of the point). I really have no idea why Lily insisted on dragging me here. As soon as Justin got called away I ceased having a reason to be here and since then I've just been feeling guilty that I'm sitting on my arse while everybody else is working. "Bored but otherwise peachy. You?" "Same," he chuckles. "Doesn't matter how used to it you get, hanging around for this shit is still dull as all hell." "Lord, I don't know how you could do this so much." I shake my head. "It'd drive me round the bend." "Is that weird British talk for crazy?" "I don't know. Was that dumb American talk for stating the obvious?" "Dang. I'm gonna get you, you know." "Yeah, yeah, talk it up Trash Boy." Exchanges like this to the casual observer may make me appear to be nothing but a heinous bitch, but it's actually a private joke Trace and I have developed based on our cultural differences. The reason I always one up him though is not because I'm English, it's because I'm female and therefore cleverer than him. He takes a shot at my nationality, I take a shot at his, and the best man always wins - which is always me. I'm just better practiced at witty repartee than he is; I think he must be the butt of all Rachael and Justin's jokes because his comebacks are seriously underdeveloped. Clearly he's been effectively hammered into submission over the years. "So what news on the Rialto? Hot dates, living it up?" "Early nights and cocoa because I've been catching up on sleep before it gets manic again." "Oh. That's… nah. I tried to say nice but I'm going to have to say really, really dull." "Oh you're alright mate; I know I'm a saddo." I give a shrug as I pick at a loose thread on my skirt. "One of these days I will get a life. I swear I used to have one but I must have misplaced it." "You're telling me. Want to start with a barbecue on Sunday? JT's away so Rach and I are having a pool party and messing with all the shit he doesn't let us touch while he's at home." "Such as?" "His surround sound, the quad bikes, the trampoline…" "Why would he be precious about you using a trampoline?" I ask incredulously only to receive a shrug. "Because he's an anal retentive freak? Anyway, it should be good; we have a bunch of people coming." "I'll think about it." "You'll do it." "I'll think about it." "Alright, but you'll do it." There is only one word for Trace, and that is 'incorrigible.' It's like he doesn't have the impulse in his brain that normally tells you when to quit. Sometimes it's endearing- sometimes it's a pain in my arse. "Oh wow, is that Justin's new video?" I'm distracted by the between-takes entertainment going up for the audience. Previously it's been old videos (though not old to me who was under the delusion for some time that Justin had a job which did not involve making music videos) but this one I haven't seen. "Yep." Is it weird that I'm biting my nails and kind of nervous? It's not like it's me in the video, but then the song is kind of loosely based on me. And of course the audience have no idea about that. So why am I nervous? The beat kicks in and Justin's in this dirty looking club, like it used to be an old meat packing plant or something. Or at least how I imagine meat packing plants look, which since I've never been in one probably isn't very accurate. He's watching some girl pass him by hand in hand with one of the dancers I saw on stage with him earlier, and she meets his gaze and arches an eyebrow. Then it starts on various risqué flashbacks of him and her dancing and… other things. "Lord she's gorgeous," I comment. "What I wouldn't give to look like her." Trace immediately starts choking on his Coke, and I thump him on the back in alarm as he coughs and splutters. "You alright mate?" "Yeah," he manages to spit out. "Hit my nose funny and then I swallowed wrong." "Well try not to kill yourself, dear." He merely grimaces at me and gives another cough. |
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glowbug narking tony |
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God, I love Trace.
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insomniachollie |
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Oh she really is. Anyway, I am a slacker and I know it and I wish after beign such a slacker I had a more exciting chapter to give you, but sometimes you have
to set up the pins before you can knock 'em down. or maybe blow 'em up, that sounds like it'd be more fun.
Yes, I've had sugar. What of it? Chapter Thirty Three - Paved With Good Intentions Going out on the promotion circuit is increasingly making me feel old. Back in the day, I was out there with the four guys and we were young guns (except Chris, old fart that he is). I wasn't even twenty. The people we ended up doing TV spots with were people our own ages - Britney, Christina, Backstreet Boys, the whole teen pop crowd. We were the up and comers, the new frontier, the ones to watch out for. The older artists were keeping one cautious eye on us, lest we started snapping at their heels. Now, I'm nearly thirty. I'm usually a good five to ten years older than the people I wind up doing shows with. It's okay if I go on the bill at a hip hop show or with somebody like Maroon 5, then I don't stand out so much. But the mainstream stuff is now all these young kids when it seems like only yesterday that I was the fresh faced seventeen year old, making my first million before I was legal. I'm the veteran; I'm the old guy now. That's fucking weird. It also makes me supremely uncomfortable when the media asks me for advice on how to survive the industry. What wisdom I'm supposed to offer I have no idea, half the time I still feel like it's on the verge of sending me crazy. I ran away and hid in Europe for two months because I couldn't take it last year, who the hell am I to give advice to Miley Cyrus or whoever? I screwed up plenty of times - more times than most people know about. Lucky for me I just had some smart people around me who managed to cover for my ass. Fuck, I'm still screwing up now. That video was a prime example. Since Lily told me that Kate (my co-star) looks like Addy, I can barely stomach seeing the damn thing - which is a problem, because clips of it are everywhere and naturally since it's my new single people ask me to talk about it a lot. Trace told me I was stupid and oblivious for not seeing the similarity before, but since Addy has surpassed me in the blindness stakes by still not seeing it the heat's come off me a little. He and Rachael have had more than one conversation on how this could possibly be, but Justin Timberlake will not be looking the gift horse in the mouth. You can bet your ass she'd kill me if she realised, so the longer she remains in the dark the longer I continue to live and breathe. All that is the least of my worries though - my gamble on the single choice has yet to pay off, and the label's starting to get twitchy. This may sound horribly arrogant of me, but it's actually come as kind of a shock. The previous issues I put down to the label's choice of songs, but now I've made the choice and it's still not happening. Am I losing my touch or something? It's cocky as all hell of me, but it's not like my track record doesn't back me up so why is it different this time? What am I doing wrong, what have I missed? Have I read the audience wrong, have I not publicised it enough? That's why I'm here at this TV studio, doing even more promotion than usual. Previously I had got to the point where I could be a little more discerning about where I appeared or who I chose to speak to, but now I'm whoring myself to pretty much everybody. I've been forced to take a bite of humble pie and let me tell you, it's no Granny Bomar blueberry crunch. Oh well. House of Suarez has been getting some great comments on the outfits, so at least I can have confidence that the announcement of Elena's William Rast diffusion line will be greeted with more enthusiasm than my latest single. Things are going well on one front, at least; they've come up with some great ideas but they've been very accommodating about changes that Trace and I have requested, and nobody gets precious about it if we criticise something or ask for a piece to be scrapped. It's nice to work with professionals who actually behave professionally; you'd be amazed how many don't. "Okay JT," my make up artists tells me as she throws her last face wipe in the trash. "You're all done." "That's it, I'm free?" "Free to go." She smiles and gives me a friendly pat on the arm before turning back to her various pots and tubes and starting to put them all away in her case. I'm not sure which I hate more, having make up put on or waiting for it to be taken off. I know it's necessary on camera, but that doesn't mean I have to enjoy it. "Alrighty then…" Rachael finally looks up from her date book and pulls herself off the counter where she was patiently waiting. "We need to get you to the airport. Flight leaves in two hours." "I'm definitely all packed?" I ask as I ease my body out of the chair and wince at my protesting limbs. I've been doing such early starts and late finishes that I can really feel it. I'm older than I used to be, I don't bounce back so quickly. "Yeah, they're all in the car and ready to go." I like the way she looks when she concentrates. She purses her lip and keeps flicking her fringe out of her eyes with her fingers, only to have it immediately fall back over them again. Rachael always has such an intent look on her face when she's thinking - I always joke to her that in the back of her head she's Napoleon trying to work out which country to conquer next. She always gets irritated with me, but I think it's cute. You can almost see the cogs in her brain whirring. "What ya doin'?" I ask. I was going for congenial but my tone comes out weary. "Making plans." "Plans?" "Plans." "What kind of plans?" "Plan-y plans. Plans of planning." Clearly she's not telling me. Which either means it involves girly shit I don't want to know about or it involves my shit that she doesn't want me to know about. If she weren't a friend of Trace's I'd give her benefit of the doubt and assume the former. "Plans for how to keep from killing yourself while I'm away because you're so lonely without me?" "Plans to extend your trip as long as possible." "Damn woman," I complain as I sling my arm around her neck. "Harsh." "Well quit being so fucking nosy then." Rachael tosses her date book in her bag and throws her arm around my waist harder than she really needed to. "So sue me for being interested in my darlin' cousin." "No, I'll sue you for being a nosy bitch." "You could at least say bastard." "Who would I be kidding?" Needless to say, our relationship is mildly abusive. Sometimes it worries me that I enjoy that. "Seriously, you guys aren't going to trash the joint are you?" "Oh for fuck's sake, Mom, get a grip. Has your house ever blown up when we've been in charge?" Okay, I did NOT blow the house up - just a few fuses and the lights. "I know my Nick award didn't walk off by itself." Rachael's mouth drops open in disbelief. I wish I had my phone out so I could take a picture; she looks stupid. "You're like a little old lady. You're gonna be 92 and sittin' on your porch telling your kids for the millionth time about how your stupid Nickelodeon award went missing in the summer of '06." "Way to avoid admission without denial." "Dear Lord you need to get laid." Heh. She can try and prevaricate all she wants, but I know that thing didn't go missing all on its lonesome. They had a party and some idiot stole it, I know it. I just can't really prove it. They think they're real sneaky, but the truth is that James Bond won't be calling them for stealth work any time soon. They think I don't notice that my stuff gets put back wrong, or with wear and tear it didn't have before? I know I'm pretty but that doesn't make me stupid. Normally I wouldn't flip out over such petty things, but the way Trace and Rachael tell it I'm some spoiled kid who won't share his toys. They conveniently forget to mention that I only banned them after a truly disgusting day trying to clean vomit off of the trampoline and a very expensive pool cleaning bill. I have a large pool, so when it gets filled with trash and the cleaner gets paid by the hour it adds up. The fact that I can afford replacements doesn't make it okay to trash my shit. It's all forgotten as we reach the car and I heave a sigh. I don't think there's anything I less want to do than this promotion, I'm going to be zipping through too many cities in too short a time frame, but I have little choice. Barry's not being an ass or anything, but he is breathing down my neck a little bit about the record. Naturally they're a little annoyed that I can write hits for people on other labels but that I can't write them for them. I keep telling him that he needs to trust and we'll find the right way to push the single, but it's a good thing I can act as well as sing because it required more conviction than I actually have right now. Fuck, I need to stop being all 'woe is me.' It's depressing. Before I know it Rachael has pushed me into the car, kissed my cheek and raced off: so much for a tender familial farewell. It's just as well because my phone is ringing. I hate the ring on it, it's obnoxious, but I only just got an iPhone and I can't work it out. Trace refuses to help because he says if I'm too stupid to get it then it's more educational if he forces me to fight through my incompetence. Sometimes it makes no sense that he's my best pal. "Hello?" I never actually say my name in my phone greetings; more than one fan has managed to get through. "Hey Justin, it's Lily." It feels like my eyebrows just hit my scalp. "Uhh, hi." "How are you?" "Good, you?" I ask evenly. "Peachy. Anyway, you're probably wondering how I got your number…" Yeah, really really am. "But I kind of stole it from Addy's phone. I hope you don't mind." "Depends." "Oh, it's nothing bad, promise." It's funny listening to her voice as opposed to Addy's. Despite her years on Adora Addy's is much more what you think of as 'proper' English, where Lily's is really relaxed and has more of an accent. She's not one to care if she doesn't pronounce a vowel or two. "Go on." I'm still non-committal. "Well, actually, I kind of want to call in a favour." That's interesting, because as far as I know I don't owe her any favours for her to be calling them in. I barely know the woman. "Go on." "Well you know Addy's birthday is the fifth, so I…" I interrupt. "It is?" "She didn't tell you?" "Would I be asking if she had?" "Lord, somebody overdosed on sarcasm today." A tinkling laugh sounds out at me. "But yes, it's her birthday on the fifth, and I have decided that I am going to throw her the most outrageous My Super Sweet 16 style party ever. Only without the pathetic attention whoring aspect because if I made some guys carry her in on a throne or whatever she'd kill me and then curse all of my bloodline." I have to say I agree with her on that, but what does this have to do with me apart from my potential attendance? "So what do you need me for?" "I have my heart set on somewhere outrageously exclusive and expensive but the downside to that is that they keep telling me they can't accommodate me." "And you're thinking if Justin Timberlake asks they might suddenly have an opening?" "You catch on quick, mate." I do catch on quickly. The question is does she - Addy is not a person who likes splashy or ostentatious things. The happiest I've seen her was at a simple beach barbecue with her brother and a couple of friends, drinking wine and listening to cheesy 80s pop while Dante did a spoof Thriller routine. When Alex gave her a pay rise, I offered to take her anywhere she wanted to celebrate; after arguing with her for an age about whether or not it was okay for me to pay for dinner we wound up hitting Denny's after a movie. I'd been thinking a nice sushi place and we wound up with burgers and popcorn. Point is, Addy is a simple person who does not enjoy spotlights… that's why I've been so damn twitchy over the video. A big blow out party is not her idea of a good time, even if Lily can afford it. "If you want to go into Addy's phone one more time and steal Rachael's number, she'll set something up. Tell her I said to call." "Ahh you're a legend, thanks JT. I know you're away for a while, will you be back for the fifth?" "Should be, unless they extend my trip." "So I can count you as first on the guest list?" "Sure." I may disapprove, but if that's what's happening for Addy's birthday I'll be there to support. Besides, from the sound of things she may appreciate having a famous guy around to deflect some attention from her. "Wicked. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go hit up your friend Rachael for catering contacts and then convince Alex that it's a brilliant idea to give everyone the afternoon off on the fifth to prepare. Ciao." "Bye." Scary thing is I bet she'll probably manage it. I'm starting to get the impression that you either jump on the Lily train or get the hell off the tracks. She'd probably pack a harder punch than a freight train, come to think of it. I just hope Addy's up to this… no, I meant up for it. Not up to it, for it. And that's not a Freudian slip. |
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