A quick explanation about this story: A few months ago, I had an idea for a modern retelling of Beauty and the Beast. But I ran into some trouble when trying to write the prince character as a jerk; it felt really forced to me. So I played around with the sequence of events, and the story morphed into something different, though I recycled a lot of what I'd originally written (I published it here as Tune as Old as Song). Eventually, I decided to go back and play with some of the stuff I'd originally written, and I think I found a way to make it work. I actually kind of like this better.
The first chapter of this story is the same as in the other story, but from Chapter 2 on it's very different (much more of a straight-up retelling). If you're one of the three people who's read the other story, an occasional snippet of conversation might sound familiar, but that won't happen too often (and to make up for it, I'm publishing this whole thing in one shot -
hopefully that doesn't bother anyone).
Belle yawned quietly and leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms over her head. As she twisted in her seat, her gaze landed on a padded envelope leaning against her purse on the floor of her cubicle. She grinned to herself. Inside the envelope was an advance copy of the new Song of Ice and Fire novel. One of the perks of reviewing books for the Molyneaux Times was getting an early peek at hotly anticipated releases, and like many fans of the series, Belle had been anticipating the publication of this book for a very long time. Her copy had just been delivered that afternoon, and all that stood between her and a marathon reading session with a pint of her favorite ice cream was the last thirty minutes of the work day.
She was just about to open an email from her editor when she was greeted by a cheerful "Hey, Belle!" She looked up from her computer to see Chip Potts bounding up to her desk with a huge grin on his face. Chip was a summer intern who, like Belle, worked in the arts department; he had also quickly become her closest friend in the few weeks that they'd worked together.
"Hi there, Chip. You look happy," Belle observed with a smile. This was an understatement; Chip looked like a child who had just been given a pony.
"I just got my first byline!" Chip blurted. "And you won't believe how cool it is! I'm interviewing Enchantress! They're opening for The Riverbottom Nightmare Band at The Castle tonight."
"That's a pretty big deal for a local band, isn't it?" Belle asked curiously. She didn't know much about Enchantress, but it was hard to live in Molyneaux and not at least be aware of their existence; they played frequently at the various venues in town. The Riverbottom Nightmare Band, on the other hand, was a fairly well known national act. Even though Belle wasn't a fan of theirs, she knew exactly who they were. They were slightly scary-looking, and for some reason, their lead singer had always reminded her of an ill-tempered bear.
"It's the biggest gig they've ever played!" Chip exclaimed. "I've been trying to get tickets ever since I heard they were the opening band, but it's been sold out for weeks. And now not only do I get to go, but I get to interview the band for the paper, too! This is officially the coolest job ever." He sighed happily.
"Congratulations, Chip," Belle said warmly. "Have a great time tonight; I can't wait to read your story in the morning."
"Actually," Chip's grin widened even further, "I've got a plus one. Are you busy tonight? Why don't you come to the show with me?"
Belle wrinkled her nose. "I don't know, Chip. Aren't they a heavy metal band? It's not really my kind of music."
"Oh come on, Belle," Chip pleaded. "It'll be fun! These guys are awesome. All of the members of the band went to MU. They used to play parties on campus all the time, and everyone loved them. They might surprise you."
Belle glanced longingly at the envelope sitting just a few feet away; she had really been looking forward to staying in tonight. "You don't think one of your friends from school would rather go with you?"
"Nah," Chip started. But before he could finish what he was about to say, a deep voice boomed across the newsroom.
"Hello, Belle!"
Belle groaned. Gaston Lafleur, the Times' star sports reporter, was striding toward her with a cocky grin plastered across his handsome face. Gaston was a former defensive end on the MU football team who had briefly gone pro, but an injury during his second season had forced him into early retirement. The Times had hired him shortly thereafter, hoping to capitalize on the fact that he was the closest thing to a celebrity that the town had. Frankly, Belle was surprised that the man was able to speak in complete sentences, much less write a regular column for a newspaper.
Gaston leaned confidently on the corner of Belle's desk, knocking over a photo of her parents in the process. When he made no move to pick up the photo, Belle huffed and leaned over to retrieve it from the floor. "What can I do for you, Gaston?" she asked politely as she straightened in her chair.
He flashed her his most charming grin. "Today is your lucky day, Belle. There isn't a girl in town who wouldn't love to be in your shoes. The University is holding a banquet tonight to retire my jersey. Picture this: dinner at one of the fanciest restaurants in town, open bar, all of my trophies on display - and you get to be the guest of honor's date. Can you be ready if I pick you up at 7?"
"Oh - that's very kind of you, Gaston. But ...," Belle trailed off, flustered. Her mind raced as she tried to come up with an excuse - any excuse - to turn down the invitation. Spending the evening listening to Gaston drunkenly boast about the glory days sounded even worse than spending the evening having her eardrums assaulted by a metal band. A metal band? Wait! "... I'm going to a concert tonight with Chip!" she exclaimed.
"Who?" Gaston asked, confused and clearly not expecting Belle's next words to be anything other than "yes."
"Hi," Chip piped up from the corner of Belle's cubicle, giving Gaston a cheeky wave.
As Gaston scowled at Chip, Belle rushed on in what she hoped was her most apologetic voice. "It's an assignment for the paper. A very big story too. But I'm sure you'll have fun without me. I don't even know anything about football, anyway; I don't really deserve the invitation."
Gaston seemed about to protest, but thought better of it when he noticed several of their coworkers shooting them curious looks. As he stalked off, grumbling under his breath, Chip smirked at Belle. "How many times does that make?"
Belle groaned. "I've lost count." Gaston had asked her out at least a dozen times since she had started working for the paper. At first she had been flattered by the attention, but she had resisted his advances because she had been new to the office; this was her first job out of college, and she didn't want to be perceived as unprofessional for dating a coworker. It quickly became apparent to her, however, that they had nothing in common. While Belle was quiet, thoughtful, and loved reading more than just about anything, Gaston was loud and arrogant and did nothing to conceal his contempt for her favorite pastime - or just about any other pastime that didn't revolve around him. Unfortunately, these differences hadn't dissuaded Gaston from his pursuit, which only seemed to have grown more determined in response to her repeated refusals.
"I don't understand it - he just won't give up. Am I being too polite? What do I have to do?" she sighed in exasperation.
Chip shrugged sympathetically. "Maybe he sees you as a challenge. The way most of the girls in town fuss over him, I don't think he's used to be turned down." He looked at Belle curiously. "You really don't have any interest in him, do you?"
"None at all," Belle answered vehemently. "He's rude, and conceited, and shows no respect for other people. I don't care how good looking he is; he's not for me."
Chip patted her shoulder and gave her an admiring look. "I'm sure he'll get the message eventually. Even he can't be that thick. So," he added, changing the subject, "are you really coming to the concert now?"
Belle almost laughed at the hopeful expression on his face. "Yeah," she sighed. "I guess so. When and where should I meet you?"
Chip bounced happily on the balls of his feet. "Why don't we meet in the lobby around 5:30? The doors don't open until 6:30, but I want to try to get a good spot, and I'm sure people will start lining up early. I'm really glad you're coming with me - you won't regret it."
Belle wasn't sure about that, but she agreed to meet him in the lobby in an hour. As Chip walked back to his desk, Belle glanced once more at the package on the floor. She hurriedly stuffed it into her purse in an effort to keep it out of sight and, hopefully, out of mind.
Belle stood near the corner of the stage, shifting her weight in an effort to relieve her aching feet. She could see why Chip had had such a hard time getting tickets to the show tonight - The Castle was packed. Belle felt like she was being crushed from every direction, and she wondered briefly if this was the sort of show that was likely to incite a mosh pit. She had a sudden, terrifying vision of being hurled across the room by one of the large, over-caffeinated teenagers jockeying for a spot on the floor. Just as she was considering moving to a spot closer to the back of the room, Chip let out an excited squeak. "There they are!" he exclaimed as three young men began setting up their equipment onstage.
"So you knew these guys in college?" Belle asked conversationally.
"Well, not personally," Chip admitted. "They were all a few years older than me, so it's not like we ever had any classes together."
"How much older are they?" asked Belle. None of the men looked to be older than mid-twenties to her.
"Well, Charles Cogsworth was three years older than me," Chip said, gesturing to the stocky, serious man wearing jeans, a white t shirt, and a vest whose buttons strained valiantly against his generous belly. He looked all business as he fussed over the positioning of the drum pedals. "He was a senior when I was a freshman. Same for Jean Lumiere." This time, Chip pointed to a lanky, somewhat flashily dressed young man with a ponytail who was adjusting the microphone. He had an easy smile, and looked much more relaxed than the drummer as he bantered with a few audience members who were standing close to the stage. "But Adam Prince was only one year ahead of me - he just graduated last month, same as you." Belle's gaze fell on a tall young man wearing jeans and a black t shirt. His sandy, shoulder-length hair obscured his face as he bent over a guitar, listening intently as he tuned the instrument.
"They don't look the way I expected a metal band to look," confessed Belle.
Chip laughed. "What were you expecting? Claws and fangs?"
"Sort of?" Belle blushed, thinking again of her impressions of the evening's headline act. "I don't know. I guess I just wasn't expecting them to look so normal."
Chip shrugged. "Well, they're definitely more classic metal than death metal, if that's what you mean."
"I'm not sure I know the difference," Belle admitted with a laugh as the room suddenly darkened. A spotlight fell on Jean Lumiere, who flashed the crowd a dazzling smile as he hoisted a bass guitar.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he announced with a flourish, "it is with deepest pride and greatest pleasure that we welcome you tonight. We are Enchantress, and we hope you enjoy the show!"
The crowd cheered as Enchantress launched into their first song of the night. Belle was surprised to find herself bobbing her head to the music. It was certainly heavier than what she was accustomed to listening to, but it was also unexpectedly melodic. And she had to admit, Jean Lumiere was a natural showman. Every pair of eyes was glued to the charismatic frontman as he strutted across the stage, hamming it up and throwing the occasional wink to the cheering crowd. He clearly loved the attention, and the audience positively showered him with it. Toward the end of the song, however, the attention of the crowd was abruptly diverted when Adam Prince launched into a blistering guitar solo. "Man, that guy is a beast on the guitar!" Chip exclaimed appreciatively. As Belle glimpsed the young guitarist's face for the first time, she was surprised to see that he was actually quite good looking, even with his strong features screwed into a look of intense concentration. Maybe I could become a metal fan after all, she mused, and then immediately chastised herself for thinking such shallow thoughts. The crowd roared in approval as the solo came to an end, and another enthusiastic round of applause greeted the end of the song soon after. However, the band took little time to bask in the cheers as they continued on with their set.
Belle was startled when, roughly forty minutes later, Jean Lumiere thanked the audience and announced the last song in Enchantress's set. She had enjoyed the show much more than she had expected to, and had lost track of how much time had passed. As the last song began, Chip grabbed her elbow and shouted into her ear. "We should probably make our way back toward the green room for the interview!" Belle nodded and tried her best to keep up with Chip as he navigated his way through the tightly packed maze of people crowding the floor. They reached a curtained doorway off to the side of the stage, where two burly looking bouncers stood at attention on either side. One of the bouncers leaned down to listen as Chip explained who they were, gesturing to the press pass hanging from a lanyard around his neck. Belle couldn't make out a word of the exchange, but the bouncer suddenly nodded and straightened. He beckoned to Chip and Belle before turning and disappearing through the curtains. Chip looked back at Belle, shrugged, and followed the bouncer with Belle close behind him.
Belle blinked as she passed through the curtains and into a brightly lit and surprisingly busy hallway. As her eyes adjusted, she quickened her pace to catch up with Chip and the bouncer, who were several steps ahead of her. The hallway took a labyrinthine series of turns, and the trio passed various doorways that led to offices, dressing rooms, and storage areas. She was hopelessly lost by the time the bouncer stopped in front of a door.
"Here's the green room," he announced as he opened the door and waved them inside. "The band should be here in a few minutes." He turned and strode back down the crowded hallway, disappearing around the nearest corner.
Belle and Chip surveyed the green room as they closed the door behind them. It was small, but comfortable looking. A large couch and several chairs were arranged around a low table to make a sitting area in the center of the room. A mini fridge stood against the far wall, and a flat screen TV hung on the wall behind them. Framed posters from previous concerts held at The Castle decorated the remaining walls, and Belle recognized the names of some of the bands. As she moved to get a closer look at one of the posters, she heard Chip make a choking noise behind her.
"What's wrong?" she asked, spinning to face him.
"The batteries in my recorder are dead!" wailed Chip, waving the device in his hand. A note of panic crept into his voice. "I swear, I checked them right before I left the office! You don't have any extras on you, do you?"
"I don't," Belle said apologetically. "But it looked like there were still people in some of the offices we just passed. Maybe one of them can loan you a set?"
Chip brightened. "Yeah, I'm sure they can!"
As he made for the door, Belle asked, "Do you want me to come with you?"
"Nah, that's ok," said Chip. "I'll only be a few minutes. Besides, someone should be here in case the band gets back before I do." He opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. "I'll be right back."
Belle wandered over to the sitting area and decided to have a seat on the couch, which was surprisingly comfortable. As she set her purse on the table, she remembered the book she had stuffed into it earlier. Shrugging to herself, she decided to make the most of this unexpected quiet time. She fished the book from her purse, shifted in her seat to get more comfortable, and opened to the first chapter.
