"What a sty." My nose wrinkled as I looked around the hotel room, taking in the empty
beer bottles, full ashtrays, pizza boxes, clothes and….dear God, was that a freakin'
condom under that thong? Bile rose in my throat as my gloved hand landed on the
offending item, picking it up between two fingers.
"What the hell are you doing in my room?" The voice yelled over the music pumping
through my ipod. Startled I dropped the panties onto the bed. Standing in the doorway
was a man who's handsome face was screwed up in fury.
I quickly pulled my gloves off and pulled the buds out of my ears as I walked over to him.
"Mr. Rathbone? It's nice to meet you." I put my hand out to shake his.
"It's nice to meet me. Seriously? That's what you start off with when I catch you in my
room?" I opened my mouth to speak but immediately closed it again as strong hands
grabbed my arms and began pushing me towards the door. "Hope you enjoyed your time
in my room, maybe picked up a keepsakes or something. Now get the fuck out." With a
final gentle push I was out of the room and the door was closing in my face. "Fucking
groupies." The door shutting echoed down the hall.
"Well that was strange." Scooter said, shutting the door to the next room.
I moved my gaze away from the silent door and turned to look at him. "Your telling me.
Looks like someone has a high opinion of himself." I linked arms with him as we began
to walk down the hall.
"Gah! Get off me, you damn groupie!" He deepened his southern twang to a white trash
level. "I am not a piece of meat for you to fondle and grope." He pulled his arm out of
mine and threw one arm across his chest and the other over his crotch.
I rolled my eyes and shoved him. "C'mon. Let's go meet the misfits."
"So I walk into my room and there she is, just standing there holding her panties in her
hand."
"Actually, those panties were already in your room when I got there." Jackson whipped
to face me.
"That's her!" He pointed at me while nudging his friend. "That's my stalker! She must
have followed me here." His friend started laughing.
"Well, she looks pretty harmless to me. Hi, Jackson's stalker, I'm Ben." He held his
hand out.
"I prefer Adriel. Jackson's stalker just seems so, I don't know, formal." I said, shaking
his hand.
"So tell me, Adriel, why are you stalking Jay here? I mean, if your going for sheer
sexiness, obviously I'd be your first choice. If you're pilfering for stuff to sell on eBay,
then Rob's the best choice. Out of all the people on this set, I'd say Jay would be like,
number 23 that I'd stalk. I mean, when you look at it, what's the kid really got going for
him that's stalker-worthy?" Behind him Jackson glowered, making me incredibly glad to
have met Ben.
"Well I may have just met you, Hunky Dunky, but I like you already." I smiled up at him,
"Let me buy you a drink." I leaned over the bar and ordered three beers, handing him one
when they appeared in front of me.
"I don't want a beer from you." Jackson spat out.
"Good, cause I wasn't buying you one." I retorted, rolling my eyes. Seriously? This guy
was going to break a leg, jumping to conclusions. I turned and handed a beer to Scooter,
who seemed to be enjoying this a little too much.
"Listen, stalker…"
"Jackson, there you are!" A loud voice cut off what I assume wouldn't have been a
comment on my awesomeness. "Ah Adriel, I see you've managed to meet Jackson."
Chris shook Scooter's hand and then pulled me in for a hug.
"Oh yeah. We're old friends." I smiled.
"Well, since you skipped our meeting this afternoon, Jackson, allow me to catch you up."
Chris began. Jackson at least had the decency to look embarrassed at being called out.
"I'll give you the cliff notes version and Ad here can fill you in on the rest tomorrow.
There have been some rumors going around in the press about what went down during the
last shoot. You know, the cast partying every night, drugs, underage drinking, hooking up
with groupies." He raised his eyebrow a Jackson. "Well, these rumors are quite frankly
making the studio heads nervous. After the last flop they produced, they can't handle any
more bad press. They were thinking about delaying shooting until the press had moved
on to someone else but I managed to talk them out of it. Instead, I offered an alternative,
something a friend had done for a band he manages. What if the cast all had friends with
them to keep them out of trouble? You know, someone there with them to keep them
from making decisions, at least in public, that could cause bad press or harm their image."
"Isn't that what we have agents and publicists for?" Jackson growled.
"They help you spin it when you've already fucked up. I'm talking about someone to
keep you from fucking up in the first place. The entire principal cast will be getting one.
Scooter here? He's Robs newest friend."
"I don't know that I like this. I mean, letting some stranger just waltz into my life and
make decisions for me?"
"Well, get used to it. It's a done deal." Chris frowned and patted him on the back.
"Make the best of it. I've met them all and I think you guys are gonna get along great.
Now if you'll excuse me, we have an early shoot in the morning."
I had watched the exchange, sadistically enjoying watching Jackson realize how deep the
hole he had dug for himself was. He turned to look at me, his eyes wary.
It was unprofessional, but I couldn't help it. "That's right, Sweet Cheeks. I'm not your
stalker. I'm your babysitter."
