Chapter 2 – A Rainy Day in Genovia
Prince Phillipe was busy coordinating relief plans with neighboring parts of France, but that didn't mean that the Genovian Royal Opera company's director would excuse Mia from her visit. The opera house happened to be about 100 yards away from the palace, so Mia couldn't use the flooded coastal highways as an excuse to stay home. By mid-afternoon the rain was not coming down as hard as before, and the short trip between the palace and the opera house was deemed safe. Mia went with Francine and Grandmère.
Clarisse Renaldo's precise age was a mystery thanks to her extensive plastic surgery and years of lying about when she was born, but not even she could deny that she was very, very old. She grudgingly allowed her family to arrange for doctors to visit her regularly, and Mia always made certain her grandmother took all her pills as directed every day. Grandmère now walked slowly with a cane and tired more easily than she used to, but she still insisted on an active life.
And this strange, little old woman was still more popular than Mia was in Genovia. Everyone loved the crazy, old dowager princess. No one could ever call her boring. There was no way Mia was ever going to get black eyeliner tattooed on her eyelids, so there had better be an easier way to get Genovians to like her as much as they loved Grandmère.
Now all the official state visits were Mia's visits, and Mia could decide when it was safe enough and close enough for her grandmother to accompany her. Considering the weather, she had tried to get Grandmère to stay indoors, but the old woman had said that it was just because of the weather she wanted to get out of the palace and go somewhere new.
"Besides, I want to have a word with that man about the opera. Did you hear about the last production of 'Parsifal'? You were there on opening night, of course you saw it. With the naked women?"
Mia rolled her eyes and said, "Grandmère, it was in the name of art."
"Since when did you become an opera fan? You still complain if the wrong people die at the end, and you listen to that awful rock music of yours. I'm surprised you haven't gotten some long-haired, drug-addled rock band to come to Genovia."
There wasn't a decent venue for a rock concert in Genovia, or maybe she would have. Genovia had an excellent symphony orchestra, opera company, and ballet company, but when she was Crown Princess she would see more forms of music embraced. Jazz and rock would definitely be better represented. She would also live to see a production of the musical "Beauty and the Beast" performed in her country. Genovian children had no idea what they were missing.
Luckily their car was outside waiting for them, so their musical discussion changed to an argument over the gardens between the palace and the opera house. Grandmère said that roses were 'common', but Mia thought they were lovely. Then Grandmère reminded her that the Dutch ambassador had given them some prized tulip bulbs last week, and Mia had to confess that she lost them before she could give them to the head gardener. And then Grandmère started to lecture Mia about how she may have insulted the ambassador and perhaps damaged relations between the Netherlands and Genovia. Mia pointed out that the ambassador liked their roses. Thankfully they were soon at their destination.
The opera director was there at the door to meet them, and of course he immediately dedicated all his attention to the vastly popular Princess Clarisse, while boring Princess Mia stepped in a puddle and got her shoes completely soaked. Francine was helping Grandmère walk up the steps, so Mia thought it would be safe to take off her shoes and run up behind them. Her panty-hose got wet, but at least she didn't slip on the wet marble stairs. While the others were fusing over their rain coats, Mia slipped back on her damp shoes. As soon as they sat down somewhere she'd take them off again.
Surprisingly enough, they were not the only ones in the lobby of the opera house. That evening's performance had been canceled due to the floods, but the box office was still open and the building was not completely locked up to keep away tourists. A trio of cute young men were standing there looking very lost.
"Where's Mikey M when you need him?" the red-haired one with tattoos said, with a heavy Scottish accent.
"I can speak French just as well as he does," the tallest of the group said. Based on his accent, he was British, probably from London. Grandmère could distinguish which city a person was from and which income bracket they belonged to based solely on accents, so Mia had to endure lectures on the subtle differences.
"Your French got us lost to begin with," the Scotsman said. "You said this was the way to the music store. Do you see any CDs here, eh?"
Mia did her very best not to laugh out loud, but she did smirk in perhaps not a perfectly princess-like manner. Francine, Grandmère, and the opera director seemed completely oblivious to the humor in the situation for the cute guys in the other part of the lobby.
Grandmère frowned at the group of men and said, "We should be happy someone is here, with this weather."
That didn't sound like she was going to help them out and tell them they were in the completely wrong part of town for shopping. Parts of the palace and the outer buildings were now opened as museums, and in addition to the opera house, the symphony hall and playhouse were nearby. Tourists came to take pictures of the old architecture and see the great cultural accomplishments of Genovia. Shopping was by the casinos, restaurants, and the hotels by the pier.
"I'll help them," Mia said, more to Francine since the opera director and Grandmère were already walking off, followed by François, Mia's bodyguard. Didn't the others care that tourists were going to get the wrong idea of Genovia? It is a tiny, nice, comfortable, homey place. Mia would see that they felt welcomed, if no one else would.
"Excuse me, but you look lost," she said in English.
Grandmère told her that she should acquire a more sophisticated British accent, but Mia had pointed out that people already knew she grew up in New York City, so she'd look completely fake if she tried to sound like Prince William.
The men didn't expect anyone, much less an American, to come to their aid. Up close, they were even cuter, though they looked even more out of place. The cantankerous Scotsman was much shorter than Mia, and had, in addition to his tattoos, more holes in his ears and nose than Mia would have thought would be very comfortable. Would all those studs need to be removed before going through a metal detector? The quiet one was dressed much more conservatively, khakis and a button-down shirt. He smiled pleasantly when Mia walked up to them, so Mia decided she liked him the most. The third, the tall Brit, wore designer jeans and an old-looking, half-ripped Velvet Underground shirt. But for some reason all three looked familiar… especially the preppy one…
"Hi Mia," the preppy one said. He was an American, too. A familiar voice, New England accent, maybe someone she knew before she moved to Genovia… No… It couldn't be…
"Felix?" she finally asked.
He smiled again and nodded.
"Oh my god," she said, "you're so …" Not scary-looking. Felix had been the drummer in Michael's band, Skinner Box, when they were still in high school. But back then he had a goatee and had managed to look intimidating even in the school uniform. Now he was shockingly clean-cut.
"Are you going to introduce us?" the Brit asked.
Mia looked back and saw that she had been left behind by her grandmother and the others. So be it. No one needed her when her grandmother was there. They would only notice Mia was gone when they had a cup left over when Francine poured out the tea or when they wanted someone to finish the last crumpet.
Now that she was unobserved by those who knew the rules of deportment and royal protocol better, Mia could go into princess-mode without worrying about criticism. She stood with perfect posture and tried to ignore her damp shoes. Felix was one of Michael Moscovitz's old friends, and he was going to see how very regal she was. Because what if he still knew where Michael was… No, because that was what she was expected to do.
"Yes, please introduce us," Mia said.
"Mia, meet my friends Jim and Angus. Guys, meet Princess Amelia Something Something Thermopolis Something of Genovia, an old friend from school," Felix said.
He never treated her any differently from anyone else when they were in high school, and now he used her title as more of a joke. Most visitors made a big deal out of her royalness, but Felix was different. He had known her, or at least known of her, before she was ever a princess.
"Amelia Mignonette Grimaldi Thermopolis Renaldo," Mia corrected. "Or just Mia." She offered her hand to Felix's friends and said, "I'm honored to make your acquaintance."
Jim, the Brit, showed an unexpected degree of gentility by bowing and kissing the air above her hand. "Enchanted, your Royal Highness," he said.
Angus just nodded and said, "Hey."
"So why are you guys here? Genovia's a lot nicer when you can actually walk outside and not drown," she said.
Francine or Grandmère would probably criticize her for being too informal and friendly with men she hardly knew, but they weren't there. Mia never could have real conversations with people outside the palace anymore. She was always so nervous about saying something wrong in public that she usually didn't say much at all. But Felix was sort of a friend, and no one else was listening.
"The roads are closed, so our band's bus had to stop here," Felix said.
"Your band?"
"Yeah," Felix said, "we're on our way to Monaco. Maybe you've heard of us."
"Of course she's heard of us," Jim said. "We're the better half of Piaget's Children, and you can tell Mikey M that."
Woah. Piaget's Children? In Genovia? Her Genovia? Felix was in Piaget's Children? All these cute guys were in Piaget's Children and were in Genovia? Mikey M was in Genovia?
"Woah."
Mia loved Piaget's Children! Their music! Their style! And Mikey M was really, really hot.
Mikey M actually reminded her of Michael Moscovitz. It was probably because of the name. And he became really famous soon after Mia stopped being able to see Michael, so naturally they got associated together in her mind. But Mia wasn't an idiot. She knew that Mikey M was way hotter than Michael Moscovitz ever was. He had more style. Mikey M was what Michael Moscovitz could have been, had he not done what everyone told him to do. Michael had wanted a band, but he gave up that dream when Grandmère made her opinion known on the matter. A potential royal consort did not play in a band. Royal consorts learned how to dance well, which Michael did, and learned to speak French, which Michael did, and went to good schools, which Michael did, and always did and said the right thing.
So had Michael Moscovitz told Mia and Grandmère to stop trying to control his life, he could maybe have become as cool as Mikey M. At least he could have worn the same sort of clothes and looked totally hot in them. But Michael Moscovitz was off being boring and mentally-unstable somewhere, and Mikey M was in Genovia! Her Genovia!
"So you're a fan, right?" Angus asked.
"Of course!" Mia said. She was fully out of princess-mode now, and was instead just another excited, American fan. "Wow, you guys have to come to dinner or something. Nothing's open because of the flood. Dad's too busy talking to France, so it's just me tonight. You could be official state guests. Piaget's Children at my palace!"
She took a deep breath and said, more sedately, "Of course, I mean, if you have no other engagements, I'd be honored if you and your other friends staying in Genovia dined with me."
Jim immediately stepped forward and said, "On behalf of Piaget's Children, I thank you, your Royal Highness. Of course we accept."
Mia clapped her hands together in a very un-princess-like manner and said, "How cool! Are all you here? And do you have like a couple of managers I should invite?"
"Only one manager," Felix said. "Jen will probably want to come, too. She's our publicist. Then there's us."
"No Mikey M," Angus added.
Mia tried not to show how disappointed that news made her, and she failed miserably since Jim and Angus laughed.
"Everyone always wants to meet Mikey M," Angus said.
Well, if they were going to laugh at her already, at least Mia could ask the one question that every reporter asked the band in interviews. "Do you really always call him Mikey M?" she asked. "Not just … Mike? Or … Mikey?"
"Never," Angus said gruffly.
"It's Mikey M," Felix said. "Always has been. He acknowledges 'Mikey' sometimes."
"You call Mikey M what he wants to be called," Jim said. He sounded quite serious about the matter.
That sort of automatic loyalty impressed the princess of Genovia. Mikey M had a great voice, wrote really good music, and was really good-looking, but, in addition to all that, he also had great deal of personal charisma. Reporters couldn't praise him enough. Women swooned over him. All three men there would obviously do anything for him, no matter how much they joked.
Mia lacked that sort of charisma. She couldn't even get her cousin, her grandmother, and her bodyguard to wait for her before they went to have tea with opera directors. Speaking of whom, she would probably be yelled at more if she didn't get back to them soon.
"If you want to find a music store, they're closer to the water," Mia said. "They're probably all closed because of the floods, though. But I should get back to Grandmère and the others. I'll see you tonight. The palace is hard to miss. We dine at seven."
She would make certain they got a dinner to remember, even if Mikey M wasn't there. Her guests would have such a good time that they would want to return. Maybe they would stop for a concert on their third world tour. Or maybe they could play for her birthday.
Yes, maybe they could play for her birthday…
Mia took off her shoes again once she was out of the lobby, and she went up to the opera director's office. Didn't François worry about Euro-trash terrorists hiding in the opera house, waiting to kidnap her? Then again, Genovians would be more upset if anything happened to good old Princess Clarisse than if their boring Princess Amelia got kidnapped and ransomed, so it made sense that François went with the others. Maybe being kidnapped would even increase Mia's popularity and make her look more interesting.
Imagine how interesting she would be once everyone found out that she was dining with rock stars and was getting them to play at her birthday celebrations. The more she thought about the idea, the more she liked it. Mia stopped in the hallway outside the opera director's office and called Ted at the palace on her cell phone.
"We have guests for dinner tonight," she told him. "Piaget's Children."
"What? The band? Are you crazy? Why would they be here?"
"They're stranded in Genovia because of the floods. I know the drummer from high school, and they're coming to dinner. And they're going to play at my birthday party. How perfect is that?"
"Wait, wait, they're playing for your birthday?"
"I haven't asked them yet, but they've got to agree to. It'd make me look interesting in front of Genovia. And it would be really, really cool. Don't you think? So you have to help me pull this off."
"Don't worry, Mia. We'll have them begging to come back. If the soufflé doesn't win them over, I often find that people will agree to anything if you get them drunk enough. But don't tell Francine that part of the plan. So how many more for dinner?"
"Six. Them, their manager, and their publicist. Oh, and no Mikey M."
"Where is he?"
"They didn't say."
*******
As far as Mikey M could tell, Genovia was the most boring place on the planet. He learned French well during his early years in college, and at the time he had had plenty of input from a certain young lady on how to speak with the proper Genovian accent. So now he could perfectly understand everyone on the television (floods, floods, floods, floods, Prince Phillipe, floods, floods, floods, Princess Amelia, floods, floods…). He could read the newspapers (Prince Phillipe, olive oil, decrease in tourism, floods, birthday celebrations…). And that was all there was to do while sitting in Felix's hotel suite.
Felix had appeared earlier to inform him that everyone else was going to go to the palace to have dinner with the princess. Others were around, so Felix imparted this news as if it didn't at all have any personal significance to Mikey M. Felix was a good liar when needed.
Besides, why should it matter that his friends were all allowed to eat a big dinner at the Genovian palace when Mikey M would be arrested if he let himself be seen outside the hotel room? At least Mikey M got a larger percentage of Piaget's Children's profits. He was much more famous than the other guys. All their hit songs were written by him, not them. And he was starving and couldn't even call room service.
Someone must have been reading his mind, because at that moment Jen's assistant came in. Maybe it wasn't a huge coincidence since she had been coming in and out of the room to check up on him at least once every half hour, but Mikey M was still happy to see her.
He still had to mention, "The hotel staff is going to think something's wrong since you keep on checking Felix's empty room."
"I'm sorry, Mikey M, but Jen told me to make certain you didn't want anything when they're all gone," she said. "Like dinner?"
As if getting dinner sent to Felix's empty room wouldn't look at all unusual. Jen's assistant may be good at taking orders from Jen and everyone else, but she wasn't very good at hiding famous musicians in hotel rooms. But he did need some food or else he would start eating the flowers in the suite.
"How about … a box of crackers," Mikey M said.
The moment they got to Monaco he would get a real meal. He was hoping that the assistant would protest about how unreasonable it was for a twenty-eight year-old man to have only a box of crackers in place of lunch and dinner, but she accepted his request as a direct order. There was a downside for always getting his own way all the time.
Ten minutes later she was back with a box of Saltine-like crackers. It was his own fault for not being able to think of something better that a Genovian convenience store would have. Mikey M tried to look pleased. But why couldn't she have deviated slightly from his order and picked up some cheese, at least? He couldn't be mad at her, though. She was merely doing her job, whatever her name was.
"What's your name?" he asked.
She actually looked surprised that anyone would think of asking her that. Everyone called her What's-her-face without a second thought. But she was doing her best to look after him, so at least Mikey M would learn her name.
She said, "Kristy Showalter."
"Kristy," Mikey M repeated, but he was really thinking about the last name. Surely there were many Showalters in the world than just Mia's-ex-pseudo-boyfriend Kenny. Of course Mikey M couldn't actually ask Kristy about Kenny because Piaget's Children's lead singer shouldn't know who Kenny Showalter was. So Mikey M smiled and said, "Thanks for the crackers, Kristy. Don't let anyone else come in here tonight, other than Felix."
"OK," she said. She was now smiling way too much because Mikey M knew her name – adoring fans were so easy to handle – and she quickly left the room, now to vigilantly obey his command. So that meant it was really going to be very, very, very boring for him tonight.
He was rereading his German magazine for the third time, skipping the Mia article for a second time (he did read it once in a moment of weakness brought on by extreme boredom), when there was a discrete knock on the door. Was Kristy making certain he didn't want anything? Or maybe a maid wanting to make certain there were enough towels in the bathroom? Mikey M wouldn't take any chances. He turned off the TV and crouched down behind the couch so he wouldn't be visible from the door.
There was a louder knock. And then there was the sound of someone unlocking the door with a key. The only person with a key was Felix, and he wouldn't knock. So it had to be housekeeping. Mikey M looked around for other good places to hide just in case the maids did more than just peek in and put more little bars of fragrant soap in the bathroom.
But instead of a little maid, a very large man came in. Six foot seven, 300 pounds, dark sunglasses, black suit, long blond hair pulled back in a pony-tail, the noticeable bulge on his side – it was Lars! He must still be working for security for Genovia.
Lars stepped in and closed and locked the door behind him. Then he looked around and said, "OK, Michael, you can stop hiding. I know you're here."
Mikey M was not in the mood for trying to play hide and seek with a well-armed, well-trained bodyguard. Besides, he always liked Lars.
Lars knew from the first time they met that Michael was crazy about Mia. That was years ago, when Michael still thought he was going to have to wait until Mia was in college before she would consider going out with him. When Mia went with Josh Richter to the Cultural Diversity Dance, Lars had called from the restaurant Josh had taken her, and told Michael to show up at the dance. Michael had, and Lars was right. Mia did want him there. Then when Mia was going out with Kenny, Lars had mentioned to Michael that Mia had a new interest in greeting cards. Lilly had later more bluntly delivered the hint that Mia was writing Michael cute little anonymous poems, but Lars told him first. Mia's bodyguard, and therefore constant companion, was always on Michael's side.
Even when things went really, really wrong with Mia, Lars never seemed to hate him. Of course, if Lars had decided to hate him as much as everyone else did, Mikey M probably wouldn't be alive today. The guns weren't around for show, and Lars took his responsibility of looking after Princess Amelia very seriously.
So Mikey M reluctantly stood up and said, "Hi Lars."
Lars shook his head, probably amused at the sight of a tall, well-dressed man trying to hide behind a sofa, and sat down. He gestured for Mikey M to take a seat, too. At least Lars looked like he was there in peace. And he hadn't taken out his gun or tried to arrest Mikey M for entering Genovia yet.
"I really haven't taken a step out of the room since we got here," Mikey M said. "I'm leaving in the morning. I'm not going to try to talk to anyone other than the people I'm here with. I'll be gone before you know it."
Lars said, "That's why I didn't tell anyone you're here. Your friends said you all got stranded here because of the floods. They all knew you weren't allowed in Genovia, so they tried to cover for you. There's a girl out in the hallway that looked like she was going to have a heart-attack when she saw me coming in here. I'll apologize when I leave."
"So who told you I was here?" Mikey M asked.
"It came out during dinner. The drummer – your old friend Felix – said you were in France, the keyboardist said you were sick in Germany, the violinist said you had already flown ahead to Monaco, and your manager said no one knew where you were because you didn't tell anyone. Then everyone drank more and the keyboardist said you were in Russia, the bass guitarist said you were in Australia, and the publicist said you were hiding. I believed her."
"My publicity people always lie," Mikey M said.
For example, look at the way Jen always handled his many supposed romances. Maybe half the time Mike M really was taking the woman out. Another quarter of them were women he happened to be photographed with when they were at the same party. The rest of his torrid love affairs were the product of overly imaginative and/or partially blind gossip columnists. Every time Jen would always say 'No comment', but she would say it in such a way as to suggest that she could certainly say more if she were allowed to. It was all for the sake of his image, so Mikey M never complained. Jen would probably have said Mikey M was 'hiding' tonight with a raise of her eyebrows meant to mean that he was off with some famous super-model on a tropical island.
Lars laughed and said, "Then what do you call this?"
"Hiding," Mikey M conceded. "But no one else knows?"
"No," Lars said. So that meant the princess didn't know, either, which was a very, very good thing. Mia would have no qualms about sending in the Genovian national guard to arrest him and throw him in the dungeon.
He then asked, "Everyone at the palace knows all about me, right? This whole Mikey M thing?"
Mikey M could imagine Mia's grandmother holding bonfires to burn all the copies of Piaget's Children's albums that made their way into Genovia. Mia's dad would have trained all the Genovian military to shoot to kill the moment they saw Mikey M's face. And Mia… At least he hoped that Mia didn't hate his music. She always used to like his songs when they were in high school, before Grandmère put an end to his musical aspirations. And she was the one who invited his friends to dinner at the palace.
"No, they don't," Lars said. "But if Mia or Princess Clarisse or Prince Phillipe saw you, they'll recognize you in a minute."
Mia didn't know? But she knew his music and she must have seen his picture. Everyone knew what Mikey M looked like. Lilly always said that Mia could be the biggest idiot in the world sometimes, and for the first time he really had to agree. But Mikey M would not show that this revelation disturbed him in the least. Lars wasn't here to help reunite him with his ex-girlfriend or to relive the good old days, before things between Michael and Mia went wrong.
"So why are you here?" Mikey M asked. "To make certain I behave and leave quickly?"
"And to see how you are," Lars said. "I'm still in charge of coordinating Mia's security, so I've been keeping track of you for the last seven years. You've been busy."
Mikey M smiled and said, "Yeah. There's been some ups and downs, but it's all good. It's all great, actually."
Which was a lie, but how could he actually tell anyone what was wrong when he didn't even know. He was proud of what he had accomplished over the years. He had done what he had set out to do: He had the artistic freedom to make the music he wanted, and he had made a lot of money in the process. But things weren't great. He was always trying to accomplish more, sell more albums, get more awards, make more money, and become an even bigger star.
But that had nothing to do with being dumped and humiliated by the princess of Genovia seven years ago. He was over that. Mostly. He hoped.
"In the beginning I thought your rock star act was an attempt to get back at Mia," Lars said. "I'm glad I was wrong."
"Of course it's not that," Mikey M said quickly. "My musical career has nothing at all to do with Princess Amelia. She's completely out of my life. Not tonight, I guess, since it's because of her I'm stuck in here."
That seemed to satisfy Lars. He got up and said, "People at the palace will probably be looking for me. You may want to turn down the lights in this room. People looking at the hotel from the outside would think that someone was in here, when we all know that your friend Felix is up at the palace. I'll see you around."
Once Lars had left and locked the door behind him, Mikey M turned off the main lights and sat down next to a reading lamp and read the German article on Mia again. Lars hadn't said anything about her, and the article didn't say much more. He would have to wait until the others came back to hear what they thought of her.
It was well after midnight when he heard voices out in the hallway. Felix came stumbling in, more than a few drinks beyond his limit. How typical; rock musicians getting smashed at a formal dinner at the royal palace. Prince Phillipe must have been thrilled. Grandmère would be furious. They had a big concert the next day, too. But Mikey M wasn't in the mood to lecture. He wanted to hear about the dinner.
"Don't worry, Mikey, no one told the authorities where you were hiding," Felix said. He stretched out on the sofa and yawned. Mikey M didn't tell him that the authorities had already found him while everyone else was away.
"So how was it?" Mikey M asked.
"Good food. Mia was there. You remember Mia, right? Hell, of course you remember Mia. Well, she was there. And a really cute blonde. And some guy always doing stuff for Mia. He was an American. Maybe he was her boyfriend. They were always whispering. Nice guy. He practically interrogated poor Ansel about you. He's a big fan."
Mikey M looked very closely at the lamp shade, just in case Felix was looking at him. Mia had an American boyfriend staying with her, doing 'stuff' for her and whispering with her. Somehow he guessed that this wasn't another secret prince. Mia had dumped Michael for not being suitable, and now, seven years later, she was with some other non-royal American, and no one cared.
"So what did Ansel tell him about me?"
"That you're a freaking genius, what the hell do you think? And that he didn't stand a chance with the ladies when you're around."
"What did Mia say to that?"
"Oh, she laughed. She laughed a lot. But she was always fun, back when you two were dating."
"I hope you didn't mention that."
"No, man, I was cool. I liked that Ted, though. I was going to invite him back here to talk some more but then I remembered you were hiding here."
"Mia's Ted?"
"Yeah, Mia's Ted. I want a Ted, too. No, I want a Francine. That was the blonde. You'd want a Francine, too, if you could get one."
How much alcohol had they given Felix? Mikey M's friends were all hardened musicians and had had more than their fair share of wild parties and late nights. It would have taken a lot of alcohol to get Felix this drunk. Mikey M wouldn't have guessed that the Genovian royal family would be heavy drinkers. Mia always used to disapprove of excessive drinking.
More importantly, Felix was too drunk to tell Mikey M anything interesting or insightful about what he had seen during the dinner. Mia had laughed, Mia had an American guy hanging around, and there was a blonde named Francine. Maybe in the morning Felix would have more to say.
"Go to sleep," Mikey M said. He stood up and decided he would take the bed tonight. Felix seemed quite comfortable there on the sofa.
"Talk to Skip in the morning. We've got to come back," Felix mumbled. He was already falling asleep.
"Back? Here? I'll pass on that. I like the hotel room a whole lot, but I've seen better."
"Mia says it's OK. She'll take care of getting you allowed into the country. Skip says we have to run it by you first, but it's going to be great." Felix's voice was becoming more faint as his words were making less sense.
"What's going to be great?"
"Our trip back here. To see Francine. And play for Mia's birthday."
"What?"
Felix was asleep and, besides, too drunk, but Mikey M couldn't let the matter wait until morning. Mia's birthday? How would she make it OK for him to come to Genovia if, as Lars said, she didn't even know who he really was and therefore didn't know why he was banned from entering the country?
Mikey M did something he had sworn to himself and to other people many times that night that he would not do: He left the hotel room. Luckily no one else was out in the hallway, so he quickly and quietly went to find his manager. If what Felix said was right, Mikey M would get Skip to cancel at once, because there was no way Mikey M was going to get up on stage in front of Mia and her family and the international media and sing her Happy Birthday.
----
(Author's note: Wow, this chapter turned out to be a lot longer than I had anticipated. The plot moves much faster from here. They finally meet next chapter. Thanks for reading!)
Prince Phillipe was busy coordinating relief plans with neighboring parts of France, but that didn't mean that the Genovian Royal Opera company's director would excuse Mia from her visit. The opera house happened to be about 100 yards away from the palace, so Mia couldn't use the flooded coastal highways as an excuse to stay home. By mid-afternoon the rain was not coming down as hard as before, and the short trip between the palace and the opera house was deemed safe. Mia went with Francine and Grandmère.
Clarisse Renaldo's precise age was a mystery thanks to her extensive plastic surgery and years of lying about when she was born, but not even she could deny that she was very, very old. She grudgingly allowed her family to arrange for doctors to visit her regularly, and Mia always made certain her grandmother took all her pills as directed every day. Grandmère now walked slowly with a cane and tired more easily than she used to, but she still insisted on an active life.
And this strange, little old woman was still more popular than Mia was in Genovia. Everyone loved the crazy, old dowager princess. No one could ever call her boring. There was no way Mia was ever going to get black eyeliner tattooed on her eyelids, so there had better be an easier way to get Genovians to like her as much as they loved Grandmère.
Now all the official state visits were Mia's visits, and Mia could decide when it was safe enough and close enough for her grandmother to accompany her. Considering the weather, she had tried to get Grandmère to stay indoors, but the old woman had said that it was just because of the weather she wanted to get out of the palace and go somewhere new.
"Besides, I want to have a word with that man about the opera. Did you hear about the last production of 'Parsifal'? You were there on opening night, of course you saw it. With the naked women?"
Mia rolled her eyes and said, "Grandmère, it was in the name of art."
"Since when did you become an opera fan? You still complain if the wrong people die at the end, and you listen to that awful rock music of yours. I'm surprised you haven't gotten some long-haired, drug-addled rock band to come to Genovia."
There wasn't a decent venue for a rock concert in Genovia, or maybe she would have. Genovia had an excellent symphony orchestra, opera company, and ballet company, but when she was Crown Princess she would see more forms of music embraced. Jazz and rock would definitely be better represented. She would also live to see a production of the musical "Beauty and the Beast" performed in her country. Genovian children had no idea what they were missing.
Luckily their car was outside waiting for them, so their musical discussion changed to an argument over the gardens between the palace and the opera house. Grandmère said that roses were 'common', but Mia thought they were lovely. Then Grandmère reminded her that the Dutch ambassador had given them some prized tulip bulbs last week, and Mia had to confess that she lost them before she could give them to the head gardener. And then Grandmère started to lecture Mia about how she may have insulted the ambassador and perhaps damaged relations between the Netherlands and Genovia. Mia pointed out that the ambassador liked their roses. Thankfully they were soon at their destination.
The opera director was there at the door to meet them, and of course he immediately dedicated all his attention to the vastly popular Princess Clarisse, while boring Princess Mia stepped in a puddle and got her shoes completely soaked. Francine was helping Grandmère walk up the steps, so Mia thought it would be safe to take off her shoes and run up behind them. Her panty-hose got wet, but at least she didn't slip on the wet marble stairs. While the others were fusing over their rain coats, Mia slipped back on her damp shoes. As soon as they sat down somewhere she'd take them off again.
Surprisingly enough, they were not the only ones in the lobby of the opera house. That evening's performance had been canceled due to the floods, but the box office was still open and the building was not completely locked up to keep away tourists. A trio of cute young men were standing there looking very lost.
"Where's Mikey M when you need him?" the red-haired one with tattoos said, with a heavy Scottish accent.
"I can speak French just as well as he does," the tallest of the group said. Based on his accent, he was British, probably from London. Grandmère could distinguish which city a person was from and which income bracket they belonged to based solely on accents, so Mia had to endure lectures on the subtle differences.
"Your French got us lost to begin with," the Scotsman said. "You said this was the way to the music store. Do you see any CDs here, eh?"
Mia did her very best not to laugh out loud, but she did smirk in perhaps not a perfectly princess-like manner. Francine, Grandmère, and the opera director seemed completely oblivious to the humor in the situation for the cute guys in the other part of the lobby.
Grandmère frowned at the group of men and said, "We should be happy someone is here, with this weather."
That didn't sound like she was going to help them out and tell them they were in the completely wrong part of town for shopping. Parts of the palace and the outer buildings were now opened as museums, and in addition to the opera house, the symphony hall and playhouse were nearby. Tourists came to take pictures of the old architecture and see the great cultural accomplishments of Genovia. Shopping was by the casinos, restaurants, and the hotels by the pier.
"I'll help them," Mia said, more to Francine since the opera director and Grandmère were already walking off, followed by François, Mia's bodyguard. Didn't the others care that tourists were going to get the wrong idea of Genovia? It is a tiny, nice, comfortable, homey place. Mia would see that they felt welcomed, if no one else would.
"Excuse me, but you look lost," she said in English.
Grandmère told her that she should acquire a more sophisticated British accent, but Mia had pointed out that people already knew she grew up in New York City, so she'd look completely fake if she tried to sound like Prince William.
The men didn't expect anyone, much less an American, to come to their aid. Up close, they were even cuter, though they looked even more out of place. The cantankerous Scotsman was much shorter than Mia, and had, in addition to his tattoos, more holes in his ears and nose than Mia would have thought would be very comfortable. Would all those studs need to be removed before going through a metal detector? The quiet one was dressed much more conservatively, khakis and a button-down shirt. He smiled pleasantly when Mia walked up to them, so Mia decided she liked him the most. The third, the tall Brit, wore designer jeans and an old-looking, half-ripped Velvet Underground shirt. But for some reason all three looked familiar… especially the preppy one…
"Hi Mia," the preppy one said. He was an American, too. A familiar voice, New England accent, maybe someone she knew before she moved to Genovia… No… It couldn't be…
"Felix?" she finally asked.
He smiled again and nodded.
"Oh my god," she said, "you're so …" Not scary-looking. Felix had been the drummer in Michael's band, Skinner Box, when they were still in high school. But back then he had a goatee and had managed to look intimidating even in the school uniform. Now he was shockingly clean-cut.
"Are you going to introduce us?" the Brit asked.
Mia looked back and saw that she had been left behind by her grandmother and the others. So be it. No one needed her when her grandmother was there. They would only notice Mia was gone when they had a cup left over when Francine poured out the tea or when they wanted someone to finish the last crumpet.
Now that she was unobserved by those who knew the rules of deportment and royal protocol better, Mia could go into princess-mode without worrying about criticism. She stood with perfect posture and tried to ignore her damp shoes. Felix was one of Michael Moscovitz's old friends, and he was going to see how very regal she was. Because what if he still knew where Michael was… No, because that was what she was expected to do.
"Yes, please introduce us," Mia said.
"Mia, meet my friends Jim and Angus. Guys, meet Princess Amelia Something Something Thermopolis Something of Genovia, an old friend from school," Felix said.
He never treated her any differently from anyone else when they were in high school, and now he used her title as more of a joke. Most visitors made a big deal out of her royalness, but Felix was different. He had known her, or at least known of her, before she was ever a princess.
"Amelia Mignonette Grimaldi Thermopolis Renaldo," Mia corrected. "Or just Mia." She offered her hand to Felix's friends and said, "I'm honored to make your acquaintance."
Jim, the Brit, showed an unexpected degree of gentility by bowing and kissing the air above her hand. "Enchanted, your Royal Highness," he said.
Angus just nodded and said, "Hey."
"So why are you guys here? Genovia's a lot nicer when you can actually walk outside and not drown," she said.
Francine or Grandmère would probably criticize her for being too informal and friendly with men she hardly knew, but they weren't there. Mia never could have real conversations with people outside the palace anymore. She was always so nervous about saying something wrong in public that she usually didn't say much at all. But Felix was sort of a friend, and no one else was listening.
"The roads are closed, so our band's bus had to stop here," Felix said.
"Your band?"
"Yeah," Felix said, "we're on our way to Monaco. Maybe you've heard of us."
"Of course she's heard of us," Jim said. "We're the better half of Piaget's Children, and you can tell Mikey M that."
Woah. Piaget's Children? In Genovia? Her Genovia? Felix was in Piaget's Children? All these cute guys were in Piaget's Children and were in Genovia? Mikey M was in Genovia?
"Woah."
Mia loved Piaget's Children! Their music! Their style! And Mikey M was really, really hot.
Mikey M actually reminded her of Michael Moscovitz. It was probably because of the name. And he became really famous soon after Mia stopped being able to see Michael, so naturally they got associated together in her mind. But Mia wasn't an idiot. She knew that Mikey M was way hotter than Michael Moscovitz ever was. He had more style. Mikey M was what Michael Moscovitz could have been, had he not done what everyone told him to do. Michael had wanted a band, but he gave up that dream when Grandmère made her opinion known on the matter. A potential royal consort did not play in a band. Royal consorts learned how to dance well, which Michael did, and learned to speak French, which Michael did, and went to good schools, which Michael did, and always did and said the right thing.
So had Michael Moscovitz told Mia and Grandmère to stop trying to control his life, he could maybe have become as cool as Mikey M. At least he could have worn the same sort of clothes and looked totally hot in them. But Michael Moscovitz was off being boring and mentally-unstable somewhere, and Mikey M was in Genovia! Her Genovia!
"So you're a fan, right?" Angus asked.
"Of course!" Mia said. She was fully out of princess-mode now, and was instead just another excited, American fan. "Wow, you guys have to come to dinner or something. Nothing's open because of the flood. Dad's too busy talking to France, so it's just me tonight. You could be official state guests. Piaget's Children at my palace!"
She took a deep breath and said, more sedately, "Of course, I mean, if you have no other engagements, I'd be honored if you and your other friends staying in Genovia dined with me."
Jim immediately stepped forward and said, "On behalf of Piaget's Children, I thank you, your Royal Highness. Of course we accept."
Mia clapped her hands together in a very un-princess-like manner and said, "How cool! Are all you here? And do you have like a couple of managers I should invite?"
"Only one manager," Felix said. "Jen will probably want to come, too. She's our publicist. Then there's us."
"No Mikey M," Angus added.
Mia tried not to show how disappointed that news made her, and she failed miserably since Jim and Angus laughed.
"Everyone always wants to meet Mikey M," Angus said.
Well, if they were going to laugh at her already, at least Mia could ask the one question that every reporter asked the band in interviews. "Do you really always call him Mikey M?" she asked. "Not just … Mike? Or … Mikey?"
"Never," Angus said gruffly.
"It's Mikey M," Felix said. "Always has been. He acknowledges 'Mikey' sometimes."
"You call Mikey M what he wants to be called," Jim said. He sounded quite serious about the matter.
That sort of automatic loyalty impressed the princess of Genovia. Mikey M had a great voice, wrote really good music, and was really good-looking, but, in addition to all that, he also had great deal of personal charisma. Reporters couldn't praise him enough. Women swooned over him. All three men there would obviously do anything for him, no matter how much they joked.
Mia lacked that sort of charisma. She couldn't even get her cousin, her grandmother, and her bodyguard to wait for her before they went to have tea with opera directors. Speaking of whom, she would probably be yelled at more if she didn't get back to them soon.
"If you want to find a music store, they're closer to the water," Mia said. "They're probably all closed because of the floods, though. But I should get back to Grandmère and the others. I'll see you tonight. The palace is hard to miss. We dine at seven."
She would make certain they got a dinner to remember, even if Mikey M wasn't there. Her guests would have such a good time that they would want to return. Maybe they would stop for a concert on their third world tour. Or maybe they could play for her birthday.
Yes, maybe they could play for her birthday…
Mia took off her shoes again once she was out of the lobby, and she went up to the opera director's office. Didn't François worry about Euro-trash terrorists hiding in the opera house, waiting to kidnap her? Then again, Genovians would be more upset if anything happened to good old Princess Clarisse than if their boring Princess Amelia got kidnapped and ransomed, so it made sense that François went with the others. Maybe being kidnapped would even increase Mia's popularity and make her look more interesting.
Imagine how interesting she would be once everyone found out that she was dining with rock stars and was getting them to play at her birthday celebrations. The more she thought about the idea, the more she liked it. Mia stopped in the hallway outside the opera director's office and called Ted at the palace on her cell phone.
"We have guests for dinner tonight," she told him. "Piaget's Children."
"What? The band? Are you crazy? Why would they be here?"
"They're stranded in Genovia because of the floods. I know the drummer from high school, and they're coming to dinner. And they're going to play at my birthday party. How perfect is that?"
"Wait, wait, they're playing for your birthday?"
"I haven't asked them yet, but they've got to agree to. It'd make me look interesting in front of Genovia. And it would be really, really cool. Don't you think? So you have to help me pull this off."
"Don't worry, Mia. We'll have them begging to come back. If the soufflé doesn't win them over, I often find that people will agree to anything if you get them drunk enough. But don't tell Francine that part of the plan. So how many more for dinner?"
"Six. Them, their manager, and their publicist. Oh, and no Mikey M."
"Where is he?"
"They didn't say."
*******
As far as Mikey M could tell, Genovia was the most boring place on the planet. He learned French well during his early years in college, and at the time he had had plenty of input from a certain young lady on how to speak with the proper Genovian accent. So now he could perfectly understand everyone on the television (floods, floods, floods, floods, Prince Phillipe, floods, floods, floods, Princess Amelia, floods, floods…). He could read the newspapers (Prince Phillipe, olive oil, decrease in tourism, floods, birthday celebrations…). And that was all there was to do while sitting in Felix's hotel suite.
Felix had appeared earlier to inform him that everyone else was going to go to the palace to have dinner with the princess. Others were around, so Felix imparted this news as if it didn't at all have any personal significance to Mikey M. Felix was a good liar when needed.
Besides, why should it matter that his friends were all allowed to eat a big dinner at the Genovian palace when Mikey M would be arrested if he let himself be seen outside the hotel room? At least Mikey M got a larger percentage of Piaget's Children's profits. He was much more famous than the other guys. All their hit songs were written by him, not them. And he was starving and couldn't even call room service.
Someone must have been reading his mind, because at that moment Jen's assistant came in. Maybe it wasn't a huge coincidence since she had been coming in and out of the room to check up on him at least once every half hour, but Mikey M was still happy to see her.
He still had to mention, "The hotel staff is going to think something's wrong since you keep on checking Felix's empty room."
"I'm sorry, Mikey M, but Jen told me to make certain you didn't want anything when they're all gone," she said. "Like dinner?"
As if getting dinner sent to Felix's empty room wouldn't look at all unusual. Jen's assistant may be good at taking orders from Jen and everyone else, but she wasn't very good at hiding famous musicians in hotel rooms. But he did need some food or else he would start eating the flowers in the suite.
"How about … a box of crackers," Mikey M said.
The moment they got to Monaco he would get a real meal. He was hoping that the assistant would protest about how unreasonable it was for a twenty-eight year-old man to have only a box of crackers in place of lunch and dinner, but she accepted his request as a direct order. There was a downside for always getting his own way all the time.
Ten minutes later she was back with a box of Saltine-like crackers. It was his own fault for not being able to think of something better that a Genovian convenience store would have. Mikey M tried to look pleased. But why couldn't she have deviated slightly from his order and picked up some cheese, at least? He couldn't be mad at her, though. She was merely doing her job, whatever her name was.
"What's your name?" he asked.
She actually looked surprised that anyone would think of asking her that. Everyone called her What's-her-face without a second thought. But she was doing her best to look after him, so at least Mikey M would learn her name.
She said, "Kristy Showalter."
"Kristy," Mikey M repeated, but he was really thinking about the last name. Surely there were many Showalters in the world than just Mia's-ex-pseudo-boyfriend Kenny. Of course Mikey M couldn't actually ask Kristy about Kenny because Piaget's Children's lead singer shouldn't know who Kenny Showalter was. So Mikey M smiled and said, "Thanks for the crackers, Kristy. Don't let anyone else come in here tonight, other than Felix."
"OK," she said. She was now smiling way too much because Mikey M knew her name – adoring fans were so easy to handle – and she quickly left the room, now to vigilantly obey his command. So that meant it was really going to be very, very, very boring for him tonight.
He was rereading his German magazine for the third time, skipping the Mia article for a second time (he did read it once in a moment of weakness brought on by extreme boredom), when there was a discrete knock on the door. Was Kristy making certain he didn't want anything? Or maybe a maid wanting to make certain there were enough towels in the bathroom? Mikey M wouldn't take any chances. He turned off the TV and crouched down behind the couch so he wouldn't be visible from the door.
There was a louder knock. And then there was the sound of someone unlocking the door with a key. The only person with a key was Felix, and he wouldn't knock. So it had to be housekeeping. Mikey M looked around for other good places to hide just in case the maids did more than just peek in and put more little bars of fragrant soap in the bathroom.
But instead of a little maid, a very large man came in. Six foot seven, 300 pounds, dark sunglasses, black suit, long blond hair pulled back in a pony-tail, the noticeable bulge on his side – it was Lars! He must still be working for security for Genovia.
Lars stepped in and closed and locked the door behind him. Then he looked around and said, "OK, Michael, you can stop hiding. I know you're here."
Mikey M was not in the mood for trying to play hide and seek with a well-armed, well-trained bodyguard. Besides, he always liked Lars.
Lars knew from the first time they met that Michael was crazy about Mia. That was years ago, when Michael still thought he was going to have to wait until Mia was in college before she would consider going out with him. When Mia went with Josh Richter to the Cultural Diversity Dance, Lars had called from the restaurant Josh had taken her, and told Michael to show up at the dance. Michael had, and Lars was right. Mia did want him there. Then when Mia was going out with Kenny, Lars had mentioned to Michael that Mia had a new interest in greeting cards. Lilly had later more bluntly delivered the hint that Mia was writing Michael cute little anonymous poems, but Lars told him first. Mia's bodyguard, and therefore constant companion, was always on Michael's side.
Even when things went really, really wrong with Mia, Lars never seemed to hate him. Of course, if Lars had decided to hate him as much as everyone else did, Mikey M probably wouldn't be alive today. The guns weren't around for show, and Lars took his responsibility of looking after Princess Amelia very seriously.
So Mikey M reluctantly stood up and said, "Hi Lars."
Lars shook his head, probably amused at the sight of a tall, well-dressed man trying to hide behind a sofa, and sat down. He gestured for Mikey M to take a seat, too. At least Lars looked like he was there in peace. And he hadn't taken out his gun or tried to arrest Mikey M for entering Genovia yet.
"I really haven't taken a step out of the room since we got here," Mikey M said. "I'm leaving in the morning. I'm not going to try to talk to anyone other than the people I'm here with. I'll be gone before you know it."
Lars said, "That's why I didn't tell anyone you're here. Your friends said you all got stranded here because of the floods. They all knew you weren't allowed in Genovia, so they tried to cover for you. There's a girl out in the hallway that looked like she was going to have a heart-attack when she saw me coming in here. I'll apologize when I leave."
"So who told you I was here?" Mikey M asked.
"It came out during dinner. The drummer – your old friend Felix – said you were in France, the keyboardist said you were sick in Germany, the violinist said you had already flown ahead to Monaco, and your manager said no one knew where you were because you didn't tell anyone. Then everyone drank more and the keyboardist said you were in Russia, the bass guitarist said you were in Australia, and the publicist said you were hiding. I believed her."
"My publicity people always lie," Mikey M said.
For example, look at the way Jen always handled his many supposed romances. Maybe half the time Mike M really was taking the woman out. Another quarter of them were women he happened to be photographed with when they were at the same party. The rest of his torrid love affairs were the product of overly imaginative and/or partially blind gossip columnists. Every time Jen would always say 'No comment', but she would say it in such a way as to suggest that she could certainly say more if she were allowed to. It was all for the sake of his image, so Mikey M never complained. Jen would probably have said Mikey M was 'hiding' tonight with a raise of her eyebrows meant to mean that he was off with some famous super-model on a tropical island.
Lars laughed and said, "Then what do you call this?"
"Hiding," Mikey M conceded. "But no one else knows?"
"No," Lars said. So that meant the princess didn't know, either, which was a very, very good thing. Mia would have no qualms about sending in the Genovian national guard to arrest him and throw him in the dungeon.
He then asked, "Everyone at the palace knows all about me, right? This whole Mikey M thing?"
Mikey M could imagine Mia's grandmother holding bonfires to burn all the copies of Piaget's Children's albums that made their way into Genovia. Mia's dad would have trained all the Genovian military to shoot to kill the moment they saw Mikey M's face. And Mia… At least he hoped that Mia didn't hate his music. She always used to like his songs when they were in high school, before Grandmère put an end to his musical aspirations. And she was the one who invited his friends to dinner at the palace.
"No, they don't," Lars said. "But if Mia or Princess Clarisse or Prince Phillipe saw you, they'll recognize you in a minute."
Mia didn't know? But she knew his music and she must have seen his picture. Everyone knew what Mikey M looked like. Lilly always said that Mia could be the biggest idiot in the world sometimes, and for the first time he really had to agree. But Mikey M would not show that this revelation disturbed him in the least. Lars wasn't here to help reunite him with his ex-girlfriend or to relive the good old days, before things between Michael and Mia went wrong.
"So why are you here?" Mikey M asked. "To make certain I behave and leave quickly?"
"And to see how you are," Lars said. "I'm still in charge of coordinating Mia's security, so I've been keeping track of you for the last seven years. You've been busy."
Mikey M smiled and said, "Yeah. There's been some ups and downs, but it's all good. It's all great, actually."
Which was a lie, but how could he actually tell anyone what was wrong when he didn't even know. He was proud of what he had accomplished over the years. He had done what he had set out to do: He had the artistic freedom to make the music he wanted, and he had made a lot of money in the process. But things weren't great. He was always trying to accomplish more, sell more albums, get more awards, make more money, and become an even bigger star.
But that had nothing to do with being dumped and humiliated by the princess of Genovia seven years ago. He was over that. Mostly. He hoped.
"In the beginning I thought your rock star act was an attempt to get back at Mia," Lars said. "I'm glad I was wrong."
"Of course it's not that," Mikey M said quickly. "My musical career has nothing at all to do with Princess Amelia. She's completely out of my life. Not tonight, I guess, since it's because of her I'm stuck in here."
That seemed to satisfy Lars. He got up and said, "People at the palace will probably be looking for me. You may want to turn down the lights in this room. People looking at the hotel from the outside would think that someone was in here, when we all know that your friend Felix is up at the palace. I'll see you around."
Once Lars had left and locked the door behind him, Mikey M turned off the main lights and sat down next to a reading lamp and read the German article on Mia again. Lars hadn't said anything about her, and the article didn't say much more. He would have to wait until the others came back to hear what they thought of her.
It was well after midnight when he heard voices out in the hallway. Felix came stumbling in, more than a few drinks beyond his limit. How typical; rock musicians getting smashed at a formal dinner at the royal palace. Prince Phillipe must have been thrilled. Grandmère would be furious. They had a big concert the next day, too. But Mikey M wasn't in the mood to lecture. He wanted to hear about the dinner.
"Don't worry, Mikey, no one told the authorities where you were hiding," Felix said. He stretched out on the sofa and yawned. Mikey M didn't tell him that the authorities had already found him while everyone else was away.
"So how was it?" Mikey M asked.
"Good food. Mia was there. You remember Mia, right? Hell, of course you remember Mia. Well, she was there. And a really cute blonde. And some guy always doing stuff for Mia. He was an American. Maybe he was her boyfriend. They were always whispering. Nice guy. He practically interrogated poor Ansel about you. He's a big fan."
Mikey M looked very closely at the lamp shade, just in case Felix was looking at him. Mia had an American boyfriend staying with her, doing 'stuff' for her and whispering with her. Somehow he guessed that this wasn't another secret prince. Mia had dumped Michael for not being suitable, and now, seven years later, she was with some other non-royal American, and no one cared.
"So what did Ansel tell him about me?"
"That you're a freaking genius, what the hell do you think? And that he didn't stand a chance with the ladies when you're around."
"What did Mia say to that?"
"Oh, she laughed. She laughed a lot. But she was always fun, back when you two were dating."
"I hope you didn't mention that."
"No, man, I was cool. I liked that Ted, though. I was going to invite him back here to talk some more but then I remembered you were hiding here."
"Mia's Ted?"
"Yeah, Mia's Ted. I want a Ted, too. No, I want a Francine. That was the blonde. You'd want a Francine, too, if you could get one."
How much alcohol had they given Felix? Mikey M's friends were all hardened musicians and had had more than their fair share of wild parties and late nights. It would have taken a lot of alcohol to get Felix this drunk. Mikey M wouldn't have guessed that the Genovian royal family would be heavy drinkers. Mia always used to disapprove of excessive drinking.
More importantly, Felix was too drunk to tell Mikey M anything interesting or insightful about what he had seen during the dinner. Mia had laughed, Mia had an American guy hanging around, and there was a blonde named Francine. Maybe in the morning Felix would have more to say.
"Go to sleep," Mikey M said. He stood up and decided he would take the bed tonight. Felix seemed quite comfortable there on the sofa.
"Talk to Skip in the morning. We've got to come back," Felix mumbled. He was already falling asleep.
"Back? Here? I'll pass on that. I like the hotel room a whole lot, but I've seen better."
"Mia says it's OK. She'll take care of getting you allowed into the country. Skip says we have to run it by you first, but it's going to be great." Felix's voice was becoming more faint as his words were making less sense.
"What's going to be great?"
"Our trip back here. To see Francine. And play for Mia's birthday."
"What?"
Felix was asleep and, besides, too drunk, but Mikey M couldn't let the matter wait until morning. Mia's birthday? How would she make it OK for him to come to Genovia if, as Lars said, she didn't even know who he really was and therefore didn't know why he was banned from entering the country?
Mikey M did something he had sworn to himself and to other people many times that night that he would not do: He left the hotel room. Luckily no one else was out in the hallway, so he quickly and quietly went to find his manager. If what Felix said was right, Mikey M would get Skip to cancel at once, because there was no way Mikey M was going to get up on stage in front of Mia and her family and the international media and sing her Happy Birthday.
----
(Author's note: Wow, this chapter turned out to be a lot longer than I had anticipated. The plot moves much faster from here. They finally meet next chapter. Thanks for reading!)