Disclaimer My bad! I forgot to put a disclaimer in the first chapter. Oh well, I do not own The Fairly OddParents. All I own is this story and any characters not seen in the show. Surprising? I know. But if you could all please close your mouths now, you look like petrified fish.
A/N Thanks KwazyKandyPie, I love it when reviewers include a line/scene from the story that they liked. I went to your profile page and visited your art site, it's really good. I liked the song pics best. I don't know if this story will be a big hit or not. I guess not many people would pair Chip Skylark with Vicky but heck, I don't care. I can see it working. Yay young love!
Behind the Musician
Chapter Two: The Ditz with the Glamour
Sunday morning came and with it a bittersweet feeling washed over the pink eyed teenager. Vicky stood in front of her dresser mirror staring at her reflection as she attempted to brush her hair, apply make-up, and floss her teeth all at once. She was in a hurry, the power had flickered on and off sometime during the night causing her alarm clock to reset itself to the wrong time. So here she was running late on her very first day on the job.
"Hi Vicky!" Tootie smiled brightly as she skipped over and stood in front of her doorway. "What'cha doing?"
"I'm getting ready for work twerp," Vicky muttered mid floss.
"Want me to pour you some cereal for breakfast?" Tootie asked.
"No," Vicky shook her head, "that nutcase Chip Skylark has some freaky teeth fetish. He probably makes a big deal if somebody on his staff has a piece of food between their teeth. No way am I giving that guy anything to chew me out about today."
"Wow," Tootie blinked, "that was a mouthful."
Vicky scowled at the lame joke causing Tootie to yelp and rush downstairs.
Once she was finished she rushed over to her closet where the top to her burgundy business suit was hanging. Just because she was stuck working with a bunch of black wearing sheep didn't mean she had to dress like them. That was probably the only clause they left out of her twenty-nine page contract. Her eyes were still sore and watery from reading over all the fine print.
Slipping the jacket over her shoulders she turned to inspect herself in her full length mirror. "I look like a corporate geek." she frowned. Her hair had been tamed down a bit with about half a bottle of hairspray and left to hang down just below her shoulders. She used the black sunglasses she'd been given on her way out of the building yesterday as a sort of headband to keep her bangs from falling down over her eyes. Apparently that wasn't very professional looking.
"Vicky dear!" her mother called from the kitchen, "If you aren't on the road in five minutes you'll be late!"
"I know!" Vicky groaned. Yeah sure, it was great that she'd managed to land herself a job that would help pay the bills but of all the people she never wanted to work for Chip Skylark was right there at the top of the list. She was still casting glares at little kids skateboarding down the street when she heard them snickering while Chip's song 'Icky Vicky' blared from their boom boxes.
So five minutes came and went and Vicky came flying out of the house, throwing open her car door, and jabbing the keys into the ignition. It took a few tries but she eventually managed to crank it up. She couldn't wait until her dad was employed again. Then she could get back to babysitting and save up enough money for that daycare center. Once she started raking in the big bucks she'd finally be able to afford a better car. But right now, money was tight. So she had to suck it up and move on. Swell.
She arrived at the Cellebra Grand Hotel with less than ten seconds to spare. Panting she raced up to the doors (from her parking space at the rear of the lot) and started searching for that Tony Platinum guy who was supposed to start showing her the ropes.
"Ah Vicky," a familiar voice from behind startled her.
Spinning around she came face-to-face with Chip's manager, "Oh, hi Mr. Platinum." she replied with an uneasy smile, "I was just looking for you."
"I trust you've skimmed over your contract?" he asked.
"Yep," Vicky nodded and pulled the packet from her black leather briefcase. "Here you go, all signed."
"Excellent," Tony seemed enthused as he took the papers and tucked them away.
Wow, a corporate executive showing an actual human emotion, that must've hurt. Vicky inwardly chided.
After taking a moment to adjust his shades he clasped his hands together, "Now, let's get down to business shall we? Right this way, I'll give you a taste of what you'll be doing around here young lady."
It didn't take long for Vicky to realize that her earlier suspicions had been one hundred percent correct. If nothing else she was essentially an errand girl for the pampered pop singer. Whether it be fetching some imported water to have ready on his offstage stand, replying to the millions of fan mail letters he received, or running all the way across town just to pick up a dozen of his favorite strawberry cream filled doughnuts it was always her that they called upon.
To tell the truth, she hadn't so much as seen a trace of Chip Skylark the whole time she was there. Well, not unless you count the CD covers, posters, music video backgrounds, T-shirts, or...okay, so she hadn't seen a trace of Chip Skylark in person.
By the end of the day Vicky had made up her mind, she loathed this job. Her ankles were sore, her knees were achy, she had a splitting headache, and couldn't get a single minute to herself so she could rest. Even her lunch hour had been spent answering fan mail while munching on an apple she'd snagged from one of the dozens of fruit baskets the guy probably received daily.
At long last evening came and she could finally go home. She practically dragged herself through the revolving glass doors of the hotel and began the long hike to the back of the building where she was parked. No sooner had she set foot on the pavement then a clap of thunder boomed in her ears followed by a streak of lightning that lit up the darkening sky.
"Oh great," she muttered sarcastically as water droplets descended in vast amounts, "even the weather won't cut me a break!"
Picking up her pace she started to sprint for her car only to fall face first in a puddle when the heel to her new dress shoes broke off. Swearing under her breath she got up and ignored the long run in her hose, vowing never again to wear a skirt to work. By the time she reached her vehicle she was soaked to the bone and sniffling slightly.
Perfect, she thought irritably, the last thing I need is a cold!
Digging her keys out of the puddle that had formed in her jacket's front pocket she jammed them into the keyhole on the door and yanked it open.
"This day bites." she declared before starting up the car. It took her several more tries this time but it finally cranked...just before it died completely.
"I do not BELIEVE my luck!" she screeched. After making countless attempts to get her car running again she gave up and stormed out to the bus stop. She hated resorting to public transportation--not being much of a people person--but in this case she really didn't have much choice.
It didn't help that for the whole bus ride home she had to listen to a bunch of high school girls in the back of the bus gush over Chip Skylark while they played his greatest hits album over and over again on their portable CD players at top volume.
Vicky's only consolation was that they might all go deaf and never be able to hear their idol's perfect voice again. That thought actually managed to bring a smile to her face, if only for a brief moment.
The next week or so went by pretty much the same way for Vicky. Her car was in the shop and the estimate to fix it was twice what the piece of junk was actually worth. So she resigned herself to relying upon public transportation for the remainder of the summer.
In accordance to her vow she took to wearing dress pants instead of skirts. Her dress shoes had been replaced by semi-fashionable black boots. She grew tired of wearing her hair down and having to diminish the ozone with her vast hairspray consumption so she reverted back to her usual ponytail.
Today she was back in her burgundy suit--now a pants suit--and rolling her eyes as some long winded city official rambled on in her ear through the cell phone she'd been issued.
"I'm sorry Mr. Mayor but Chip Skylark is not available for private parties." she sighed before hanging up.
"Ms. Vicky!" the brunette from the board of interviewers snapped as she pushed her way through the backstage crowd carrying a large bouquet of roses. They were currently preparing to shoot Chip Skylark's newest music video 'Just One Me'. "There you are!"
Oh great, Vicky winced after she'd unsuccessfully dunked through the crowd, she spotted me.
Everyone addressed her as 'Ms. Vicky'. No biggie, she didn't plan on growing attached to any idiot here, so she never much cared that they hadn't bothered to learn her last name. "Yes Ms. Taupe," Vicky responded, "what can I do for you?"
Shoving the bouquet into her arms Ms. Taupe directed, "Take those straight to Chip Skylark's dressing room. They're from one of his sponsors. I swear the last thing that boy needs is another endorsement."
"Yes Ms. Taupe." Vicky took the bulky bouquet and headed off towards the dressing rooms.
It wasn't a big deal, delivering something to Chip's private dressing room. She'd done it several times before. He was hardly ever there, always out signing autographs, rehearsing, shooting a commercial, or making personal appearances. In fact, of all the times she'd been forced to make a delivery he'd never once been around. Of course, there's a first time for everything...
Walking down the narrow hallway Vicky could barely see where she was going over the top of the massive bouquet. The thorns were starting to prick her hands, weren't they supposed to pull those things off? Apparently the shoddy florist had missed a few. She couldn't wait to sit them down and read the card, so she knew who to hurt later.
With all the commotion going on in the bustling hallway outside she failed to hear the melodic humming coming from inside the dressing room. Noticing the door was closed she growled in frustration and bumped it open with her hip. The force needed to break into these makeshift rooms wasn't all that great. She supposed that's what the huge muscled, narrow minded bodyguards standing on either side of the entrance were for.
Since the lavender clad security guys were used to seeing her face by now they simply kept staring ahead stoically as she headed inside muttering about her sore hip.
Oh they wish they could be
But it's just a fantasy
Cause there's just one me!
A flawless voice sang out. A rather handsome teen stood in front of the vanity mirror smiling as he combed through the tuft of black bangs sticking out from under his red cap.
The reddish-orange haired girl in the back of the room wasn't paying any attention to her surroundings as she mechanically carted the bouquet over to a round wooden table in the corner and heaped it atop the rest of the untouched gifts that were piled there.
"There," she dusted off her hands and backed away from the mountain of presents.
Unbeknownst to her she was on a collision course with the oblivious pop singer as he did a backwards slide away from the mirror.
Three...two...one...
"HEY!"
"OOF!"
THUD!!
Pushing herself up off the floor Vicky spun around to see what unfortunate stagehand was about to die. "Hey jerk, just who do you think you are?!"
The guy in the red jacket stood up and pushed his sleeves back down before turning towards her. With a toothy grin and a swoon-worthy wink he responded confidently, "Me? I'm Chip Skylark."
Oh crud, Vicky paled, I am SO fired!
Getting up she started backing away while muttering an apology. If he recognized her, she was finished. Pop stars didn't exactly like having their former hostage takers as personal assistants.
Blinking in confusion of her horrified expression Chip just shrugged and headed off into the bathroom. Seeing her chance Vicky made a beeline for the door.
FLUSH!
"Wow," she dug her heels into the carpet and came to a sudden stop, "that was fast."
Emerging from the bathroom Chip sighed to himself, "Ah, the sound of flushing always helps me relax before a big video shoot."
Vicky didn't know whether to laugh her head off or slowly back out of the room incase whatever weird disease he had was catching.
Seeing that she was still there Chip decided to handle the situation in the typical fashion. "Okay," he whipped an 8 x 10 picture of himself out of his back pocket and snagged the pen off the stand with all the gifts, "who should I make this out to?"
Vicky looked stumped. "Wait," she finally snorted, "you don't think that I'm one of those lame brained squealy fan girls who snuck in here just to get an autograph do you?"
Now it was Chip who seemed confused, "Aren't you?"
Vicky quirked an eyebrow and gave him an 'of course not you moron' glare.
"Hold up," Chip grabbed his red cap and pulled it down over his head, "you're not another one of those obsessive stalkers from the fan club after a lock of my hair are you?"
This time Vicky couldn't suppress a laugh. This left Chip more baffled than ever. Who is this crazy chick? he just couldn't shake the feeling that he'd met her before.
Seeing his perplexed expression she caved, "I'm your--uh--new personal assistant."
His eyes widened a bit, "You mean I've got a personal assistant?" he asked.
"Duh," she glared gesturing over to the large pile of gifts on the table, "who'd you think was carting all this stuff in here day after day?"
Glancing over at the pile he shrugged, "I guess I thought no one had been hired yet."
"Wait," Vicky placed a hand on her forehead, "you mean that I've been working here all this time and you never even knew the position had been filled?"
Flashing another sparkly smile he replied, "I guess not. Oh well."
Vicky watched unamused as he swirled around on the heel of his sneaker. What an idiot.
She was heading back out the door when the dreaded sentence reached her ears.
"You look familiar."
It was an innocent enough statement...yet the response could get her fired.
"Have we met before?"
Sweat started pouring down her face, luckily she still had her back towards him. "Um, who? Me? Nope, no way. Must've been some other crazed sixteen-year-old babysitter."
"That's it!" his fingers snapped as recognition hit him.
Me and my big mouth! she scolded herself.
Walking over he cut off her exit, "You're that wackadoo who held me against my will at Timmy's house two years back."
Vicky was visibly shaking now, "N-no I'm not."
"C'mon," Chip laughed, "I never forget a hostage taker. You're Vicky, Icky Vicky."
That did it. Something snapped in the logic center of Vicky's brain causing her to lose control of her temper and grab Chip Skylark by the collar of his shirt, yanking him forward and eye level. "Fine! It's me okay! Big deal! You got a problem with that?!"
Unfazed by the rough treatment the blue eyed teen looked thoughtful for a moment before inquiring with a grin, "Are you gonna try to kidnap me and force me to marry you again?"
"No." she practically spat the word out.
"Then no," he shrugged and landed gracefully when she released her vice grip on his collar.
"So," he laughed after a moment of tense silence had passed between them, "just couldn't stay away huh?"
I swear that if my job wasn't riding on this dork I'd put my fist through his million dollar smile! she mentally swore as the vein in her forehead started pulsing again.
"Don't flatter yourself Skylark," she snapped, "The truth is that I hate your stinkin' guts!"
Whipping out another 8 x 10 he started signing it, "Then why are you working for me?"
"Because somebody has to babysit your bratty ego and I need the money." she huffed.
"Dude, that's harsh." he muttered and stuck the cap back on his pen before tossing it aside.
"Hn, I'd prefer we just went back to you not knowing I exist." Vicky admitted in clear annoyance, "I've managed to go for over a week without running into your pretty boy face. I'm sure if I try a little harder I can keep from dealing with you directly all together."
"Suit yourself," came his nonchalant response as he headed out the door.
Vicky growled when he shoved the autographed picture into her hands on his way out.
"One more thing," she muttered through clenched teeth.
Chip was about to turn around when a wadded ball of paper hit him square in the back of the head nearly knocking off his cap.
"Take THIS with you!"
Rubbing the tender spot beneath his cap he looked down at the paper wad. The autographed picture. "Whoa, I take it you took that whole 'Icky Vicky' song personally."
"Well duh," she snapped, "What'd you think I thought that dumb song was about, pumpkins?!"
"You're on in ten Mr. Skylark." a freckle faced, blond headed stagehand announced as he hurried by.
Glancing back Chip gave her his signature gesture (the one that seemed to come with its own sound effect) and flashed yet another pearly white smile before heading off to make the video.
Vicky just glared after him, unimpressed by his showy exit. "Fame is wasted on the brainless." she sighed.
Amanda/Artiste: And chapter two is out! Now that they've met things seem to be going--well--I wouldn't say smoothly. But hey, at least they're tolerating each other right? Next Chapter: She may have been able to dish it out to little kids but can Vicky stand a job where she gets a daily dose of her own medicine? And what could make Chip Skylark desperate enough to come begging at her door? Review, no flames, and um...pudding!