Tiny Dancer
Chapter 1: Long Time, No See
The L.A. heat blasted the five of us as we left the airport. I was used to the sun, but the lack of humidity was oddly refreshing. I could finally go outside without feeling like I had entered a steam room.
"God, what is it with today," said Johnny. He started fanning himself with a brochure he had picked up from a cute flight attendant. "It's so freakin hot! It's like the fuckin valley down here!"
"Relax, Drama. Turtle's bringing up the car right now," said Vince.
"Well good," said Johnny. "I wouldn't want my baby sis to burn to a crisp out here."
I laughed at that. I was so tanned already that I didn't think there was any chance of me getting burned during my stay in Cali.
It's funny that Johnny still calls me his "baby sis" when we're not related at all. He and Vince share dads, while Vince and I share moms, so technically, we're only related by having Chase as our last names. And the only reason my name is Wendy Chase is because Wendy Kutsnetzokov isn't the most marketable name for a dancer. Actually, it isn't that marketable for anyone looking to make a name for themselves – or get any jobs, really.
That was my dad, Stanislas Kutsnetzokov, a Russian ballet dancer born and raised. He was married to a pretty girl from Latvia when he first came to the U.S. of A, but like most prima donnas do, he cheated on her. Then, he met Rita Chase from nearby Queens and her two sons. He told me he fell 'madly in loves witz her' but I guess that didn't stop him from cheating on her, either. And that's where I came along, nine months later, that is. And since Mama Chase already had five-year-old Vince to raise, and Johnny to put through junior high school, Dad finally stepped up and took responsibility for being the man whore that he was and took custody of me. Growing up in Brooklyn was better for me than Queens anyways; I basically lived at the dance school Dad owned.
And that's where it all got started. Despite Dad's urging to be the prima ballerina he always wanted me to be, I stuck to New York's signature popping street style and hip hop, never intending to make a living out of it. I took Eric's job at Sbarro's when he, Vince, and Turtle left for Hollywood, but somehow, I was noticed at a master class in Manhattan. I jumped on a plane for Tampa and did a music video with Destiny's Child. And Jennifer Lopez. And the Beastie Boys. And Usher. And anyone else who topped the charts in '02. And then I started choreographing and touring and making a ton of cash. I was living in Atlanta when I got a call from Prince's manager to come do a video out in L.A.
And that's how I got here, right outside of L.A.X. and waiting for Turtle to hurry up his ass and bring the car for me and the boys. I looked up at the three of them standing beside me. The sentimental stuff had already happened when I got off the plane and had my ribs cracked when Johnny picked me up and spun me around. I think he almost cried. But the only thing I could think of now was my 5'2'' self standing next to them all towering over me – even Eric was taller than me. It wasn't even that way when we were kids! Now, I looked up at him instead of the other way around. If it was colder, I would've had a visible blush run across my face, but it was so freakin hot that there was no way.
"Hey Wen! Lookin good," said Turtle as he emerged from his huge, black Hummer.
"You too," I said.
He hugged me hard. "So, doing a video for Prince now? I think you've hit the big time!"
"Yeah, I still think I have a ways to go with that," I said.
"I don't know, Wen," said Vince as we piled into the car. "You've done plenty of stuff to get into the public eye. The ads, the photo shoots with celebs-"
"The commercials, like the one for high-tops, and the movie cameos- you were great in Chicago by the way," added Eric.
"Thanks," I said, blushing.
"And don't forget about those music videos you were in- those were all over MTV! Well, before MTV put reality shit on the air," said Johnny.
"Thanks guys, really," I said. I was impressed about how much they knew about me, even if we had only kept in touch through phone conversations for the last five years.
"And your number you did for Dancing with the Stars,man, that was crazy," said Johnny.
"Thank you, really, but hey, I heard that Queens Boulevard is getting lots of buzz, Vince."
"As it should," said Vince. "Billy Walsh directing is the best thing that could have ever happened to my career – so far, anyways."
"So he does good work? I've never really seen any of his films before..." I said, regretting soon after that I had said it.
"Well..." said Vince.
"It's one of his first movies," said Eric, completely ashamed.
"Hey E," said Vince. He turned around in his seat to look at the three of us. "He did a great job if you ask me. What, you didn't think so?"
"I didn't say that," said Eric.
"Yeah, but you implied it."
"I didn't say anything! I'm telling her why she hasn't seen any of Walsh's other movies – cuz there are none."
"He made some indies!"
"Yeah, shitty indies."
"Oh, so you think Queens is going to be another shitty indie, don't you?"
"I didn't say that!"
"Oh shut the fuck up!" said Johnny. He rolled down the window and stuck his head out as far as he could go. "It's too hot for your married-couple's titty fights. Turtle, turn up the damn air conditioner!" he shouted outside the Hummer.
I laughed.
I could remember Johnny's ridiculous antics back home, and how he would take the boys along with him. It was his idea to spray paint the outside of the public school in Queens where Vince, Eric, and Turtle were all in their freshman year. That was the antic that got them all arrested. I remember I had been staying with Mama Chase and how I had begged to go with them. I was ten; I didn't know any better. Then Vince called home straight from the big house and how Mama was crying. She brought me, and her checkbook, down within the hour and dragged all four of them home – and gave them a beating so hard that even Johnny cried. And he must have been as old as I am now. Somehow, I find that hard to believe.
I looked at him now to see that thirteen years later, he still hasn't grown up. None of them have; well, maybe Eric was a little more mature than the rest, but not by much. I rolled my eyes as Johnny barked at some chick with his head still outside of the window. She flipped him the bird and the boys all laughed at him.
"Keep dreaming, Drama. You're probably friends with her father!" said Eric.
"Shove it, E. None of my friends have daughters I'd like to fuck."
Vince cleared his throat. "Johnny..."
Johnny brought his head back in and looked at me, then looked away, a little embarrassed. "Right," he muttered.
I have to say, I was a little touched at how Vince was trying to keep the boys' whorishness away from me. I guessed it was because they wouldn't want anyone to have a one-night-stand with me, even though they wouldn't cease to do it themselves. But at least he was trying.
"So Wen, have you seen Ma lately?" Vince asked.
"Not for about two months."
"How's she looking these days?"
"Fine," I said. "She got two extra botox shots with the extra cash you sent over, Vin!"
He laughed. "Nice to know where my money's going."
"Hey, it's better than what she's doing with my payment."
"What?"
"2 words-" I put my hands over my chest. "Boob job."
The whole Hummer erupted with 'ugh!'s and 'ah nasty!'s so loud that I had to laugh.
"I can't picture Mom with- wait, what size are they?" said Johnny.
"Double D's," I forced myself to say.
"Gross. Moms aren't supposed to have a bigger rack than hookers. That's just sad," he said. We all agreed.
So we pulled up to the house a few minutes later. Or the mansion, I should be saying. It was huge, even for the boys. Johnny wasn't getting much work since Viking Quest canned and Vince's big movie was just opening up tomorrow. How could they afford this place?
"So, Eric, what are you doing these days?" I asked. He was wearing a dress shirt and slacks. Maybe he was one making the money.
"Just working as Vince's manager," he said, unlocking the front door.
"Got a management company going?"
"Not exactly," he said.
I felt bad; I shouldn't have asked him that. Now he'd be all insecure around me for the rest of the day. "What do you do for a job, Turtle? Besides being such a faithful driver and everything."
"Uhh, that's pretty much it, sweetheart," he said. "I'll occasionally sell weed, but that's only if I'm desperate."
"Some things never change, huh?"
"Not with me. You interested?"
I rolled my eyes. "Smack isn't my thing, thanks."
He shrugged his shoulders. "Just wondering."
Vince grinned. "Yeah, Turtle. Weed is too Hollywood for our Georgia Peach, isn't it?"
"I think it's more of an actor's way of having fun, rather than a dancer's," I said.
"Yeah, I guess. Plus, Turtle hasn't been bringing it home lately," said Vince.
"Oh really? Getting low on supplies, Turtle?"
"It's getting harder to find on the cheap," he said.
"Yeah, but this girl I've been..." Vince paused, "-dating, she's got this friend who's a Sherpa."
"A what-a?" I asked.
"Who knows? All I know is he's some old hippie dude who gives weed away like he gives his dick," said Turtle.
"Hmm, lucky you," I said.
Johnny came down the stairs from delivering my suitcases to the spacious guest room. "Hey you asshole! Are you trying to get my beloved little girl into pot?" he asked.
"No," said Turtle.
"Don't lie to me you jerk-off!" He put his hands around my shoulders. "She's precious! Look at her!"
I made the sweetest face I could and made everyone laugh. "That's right," I said. "I have to be the angel while you all go off and sin all day. Someone's got to have a clean rep around here."
"Clean rep?" asked Vince. "Wait, Wen, are you still a virgin?"
Eric and Turtle had shut up as soon as those words came out of Vince's mouth.
"Of course she is," said Johnny, giving my shoulders a squeeze. "Wait, you are, right?" he asked softly next to my ear.
"Um, wow." I walked out of his grasp. "That's a little personal, isn't it?"
"That means you've done it!" said Turtle.
"She didn't say anything yet!" said Johnny.
"And I'm not planning to!" I said.
"So if you're not talking about it," said Eric, "doesn't that mean you lost your virginity and don't want to tell us?"
"I don't know. What do you think Vince? After all, you're the one who asked," I said.
I could tell he didn't like being put on the spot. "Well, it kinda sounds like you did, but whatever. It doesn't matter, right guys?"
"I don't know, Vince, I'm kinda curious now," said Eric.
God, he's blunt! "Yeah, probably cuz you wanted to fuck me as soon as I turned eighteen, right Eric?"
Now that get a huge laugh out of everyone, even Johnny, who gave me a tour of the house soon after. Poor Eric, though. His face got red and he ran out of the room. But he deserved it. He couldn't mess with me anymore like he did back in Queens. L.A. was nice, but a whole new experience for me. I soon discovered that I sure as hell wasn't in Atlanta anymore.