Chapter 4
THIS IS NOT MY FANFIC. REPEAT, THIS IS NOT MINE. THIS IS A VERY OLD FANFIC FROM BY USER Nopinion! I AM MERELY REPOSTING THIS FIC BECAUSE I LIKE IT A LOT AND I FEAR THAT IT IS GOING TO BE DELETED. THANK YOU FOR UNDERSTANDING I JUST LOVE THIS FIC SO DAMN MUCH :3
Original A/n: All offense meant towards Tipper Gore and her legions of blood sucking doped-up house wives. All worshippers of freedom, faithfully following the amendments, and a right of expression are free to pass.
The entourage, tried to make their way through the thick crowds of the New York Airport. Joanne walked between Mike and Derek, letting them push their way through so she wouldn't get lost in the sea of tall people. Rivers followed behind Pat, fingers wrapped around the handle of the back pack, glasses off, and hoody up. He looked like a toddler, desperately trying not to get lost.
A rush of business suits split the group into several parts, leaving Joanne in the middle of a swarming crowd and no one familiar near her. She couldn't see any directing signs, couldn't see Mike, or Derek. She couldn't see anything that looked remotely helpful. Until the small, blind Rivers put out a call.
"Pat!" He yelled, "Damn it Pat!"
She pushed towards the voice and found him, frantically patting himself down in search of his glasses. "Fancy seeing you here." She startled him.
"Um, excuse me?" He squinted.
She spotted a searching Brian standing on a bench, "Damn it Rivers," She grabbed his arm and lead him briskly through the crowd of people, "Just wear your contacts."
"They hurt." He shrugged, latching onto her sleeve while she gripped onto Brian. The large group was met by two suburbans, supplied by MTV, with a paper sign that stated, "The Weez." taped onto the side. She was ushered into the vehicle with the band, by Sheeny and Brian, they had to split the group up some where.
"Where are we going?" Mikey asked.
"Hotel, than MTV." The driver stated, "Just to drop off bags, no real time.
"Shit!" Rivers screeched, "My glasses are gone."
"Do you have your contacts?"
"I can't go on MTV, I have to have my glasses!" He frantically searched through his bag and again through his pockets.
"Could they be on the plane?" Karl asked.
"No, I put them in my pocket right when we got to baggage claim."
Sheeny was already on her phone with MTV. "Hi, this is Sheeny River's assistant. What time do you need Weezer?" she listened intently to the line, "Can they go any latter?" she was shaking her head, "Rivers is... experiencing some... ah... technical difficulties, we need to see an eye doctor really quick." More listening, "No, he just needs... Okay. Thanks."
Rivers was still searching for his glasses, but was now silent and listening.
"Either we find a one hour glasses place, or you go on in contacts."
"I don't have them."
"Yeah, we'll get you a new pair."
"I mean the contacts, I don't have them." he searched the fuzzy globs for a face to stare at.
"What?" Pat exclaimed.
"They were hurting, so I took them out and spaced packing them." he defended.
"Dude, I guess you're going on blind." Mikey slapped his shoulder playfully, the slightly misdirected glare of death resulting.
Sheeny was making yet another phone call. Rivers slumped down into his chair and folded his hands in his lap. He was visibly shaken by the loss of his glasses.
"Want some gum?" Joanne asked, sitting between Brian and him. Brian was leaning against the window, his left knee behind her back, in a cramped fashion, she noted. He was almost possessive of her, watching her fiddle with the pack of gum.
"Sure." He meekly accepted. She handed out the rest of her pack to the people inside and kept an eye on him, waiting for the blow up of nerves he was suppressing. "Hey Rivs scoot down a little," She nudged, "Brian's pasted to the window." They made the necessary room for the long legged creature.
"Rivs, I got an appointment for five thirty tonight, to get some new ones made before the VMA practices tomorrow." He nodded in response.
The tall hotel loomed in front of Joanne. She was sure that she'd never seen anything quite like it. Everything was so tall around it and there it was, matching all it's surroundings. None of the buildings in Los Angeles, let a lone Denver could compare to the blocks of tall buildings that owned New York City.
They unloaded their baggage from the ample space of the large vehicles and each person grabbed their own things. Karl had the most. He had camera bags, computer stuff, a suitcase, and a backpack. Joanne took his camera case for him, and thought he pulled on her sleeve. But the tug didn't relent, it was Rivers stumbling up the stairs behind her quick pace.
"Step, step, step, two more," She aided his way by slowing down a little.
Sheeny was at the front desk, getting the keys together, "Um pair off, I call Joanne!" She handed people their keys. "Some one gets their own room." She winked at Rivers, although he didn't notice, "Oh, yeah. Sorry." She grabbed his hand and pushed a key into it.
"Damn blob." He stated then smiled, "Well, where am I?" He asked, moving his card to the end of his reach and back to only inches away from his eyes. Joanne took it from his hands and lead him to the elevator.
"Seventh floor, room thirteen." She helped him get to his room and slid his card for him, "Will you be okay, or should I send someone to come help you?"
"I'm just dropping off my stuff, right?" he shut the door after putting his suitcase inside the door, "I'll just follow you, if you don't mind going back down to the lobby." He sheepishly replied.
"Well then follow, if you can." She teased, and marched off to her room with Rivers in tow. Her roommate had already been and gone. "Jesus she's like lightning."
"You should see her when she's awake." Rivers laughed. Down in the lobby, Sheeny and Karl were collecting the band together to go on the journey over to MTV studios. The crew had the night off, or they could venture over to the Radio City Music Hall and check out where they would spend tomorrow. "Keep my card, will ya. I'm always losing things, and Sheeny teases me too bad." He almost whispered in the elevator, giving her his key.
"Secret's safe with me." She was shocked at his continued good natured attitude. He was acting like the first time they'd met; when he was looking over her shoulder at the board.
"Here ya go," She put his hand on Sheeny's arm, "He's all yours." Sheeny smiled, suppressing a groan.
"Aren't you going to come along?" Sheeny asked, "There's an extra seat, you'd get to go down to MTV, see the shit."
"Sure sounds great, I've never been here before." She smiled and was offered a hand into the waiting suburban by Brian. He pulled her into the seat next to him. "Thanks for being tall, otherwise I don't think I could have gotten Rivers back to the group." she smiled.
He leaned in close to her, so his mouth was next to her ear, "I wasn't worried about Rivers, he's a big boy." He laughed quietly. She cocked an eyebrow at him, "Rivs knows this place pretty well, he'd make it out to the hotel."
"What's that?" Rivers responded to hearing his name.
"Just commending your navigational skills in New York."
"Yeah, I'd be driving if I weren't blind." the whole group started to laugh, "What? I'm a good driver." he crossed his arms and searched the blobs for a sign of friendliness, "That's not funny, I don't even know where to punch."
"Not like it would hurt all that much." Mikey smirked.
"Sheeny, hit him." Rivers demanded, "You're my right hand, remember."
"The hand can't do much when the arm's so week." The laughter, at Rivers' expense was still rolling.
'He's not as bad as I thought.' Joanne thought trying to catch her breath, but she was still waiting for the explosion.
"I'm done talking to you all." He slumped in his seat and pouted without any sort of change in his voice.
"Did you see that, that was Kurt Loder!" Mikey, also new to the MTV scene exclaimed, "Hi Kurt!" He waved into the office, receiving a shocked look from the experience news man.
"Shut up, Mikey." Pat reprimanded, "Don't be embarrassing."
Rivers switched his grip from Sheeny to Pat, not wanting people to get the wrong impression about him and his assistant. He could hear all the technicians clarifying what was to happen when the commercial ended, 'TRL count down continues, telephone interview with a Backstreet Boy, more commercials, Weezer.' the interview was already in process, or so the loud voice going over the PA assured.
"That was Aaron Carter, thanks to him for being with us." Carson Daily commented into the camera, "Weezer has just arrived." He announced to many applauds and screams, "But first we continue our countdown with the number 6 video, Brittany Spears." The crowd clapped with few cheers and the video rolled.
"Weezer!" Someone called, "Time to mike up." She handed a microphone to each of them. Rivers relied on his touch to properly hook the mike to his pants and collar. Several women patted them down with quick make up so they wouldn't shine on TV. "You better go get you pictures in the booth, it's tradition."
She ushered them over to the booth and put in a few coins. After four shots, crammed into the tiny box, and with Karl video taping the whole thing. "It's like a VW bug challenge." He commented. They piled out onto the side stage.
"Watch the wires." The girl warned, clipboard in hand. "Name spell check." She made sure everyone was correctly spelled. "You're on."
"Boys and Girls, the time has come," Carson began, "to pay homage to your geek gods." Joanne watch Rivers close his eyes, breathed a few deep breaths, and tighten his hold on Pats t-shirt sleeve. "Weezer." Carson clapped for them as the came on.
Rivers almost made it through the labyrinth of wires. He lifted his feet extra high, but Pat suddenly lurched forward and he almost fell on stage, on live TV.
"Watch yourself," Carson grabbed his elbow and pulled him up, "Wouldn't want you getting hurt, we don't have insurance."
"I must be blind." Rivers shrugged and shuffled over to stand next to his laughing band mates.
"Yeah, tell us about that. We got a call saying you needed to get to an eye doctor?"
"Oh yeah. If anyone finds a pare of thick-rimmed glasses at the Airport, please send them to Weezer." Rivers plugged.
"So you lost your glasses?"
"Yeah, I'm blind."
"Don't you have contacts, or something?"
"He didn't bring them." Brian laughed, "They hurt." he mocked.
"Shut up."
"I thought you weren't talking to me."
Rivers shut his mouth, crossed his arms, and looked away from Brian's general direction.
"He's not talking to you?" Carson smiled.
"Not according to him, during the ride over. He's too sensitive for jokes." Mikey laughed.
"Awe... well, Rivers I won't make fun of you." Carson smiled, "Tell us about this song, that's at number 5 this week, "Hash Pipe"." the video started to play on the screen behind them.
"It's just weird that our song is on TRL. We're not really suppose to go between Brittany Spears and Blink 182 and the Backstreet Boys."
"You didn't, you passed them."
"Jesus."
"So tell us about it."
"There's not really much I can say. It's fairly explanatory." He coughed slightly, making the crowd laugh a little.
"I hate how they censor on this show." Mikey commented, looking at the screen.
"Not the show, or the station. It's all Tipper." Carson corrected.
"Yeah, Tipper." The band agreed.
"I don't know, I guess if I had kids I wouldn't want them learning about h***pipes at six." Pat shrugged.
"Six year olds shouldn't be watching MTV without parental guidance." Carson nodded. "Well, you're performing at the MTV VMA's that are in three days, correct?"
"I thought they were in two." Mikey asked.
"Well, there's a day between when they air and what goes on."
"Really, I didn't know that." Mikey was still fielding questions.
Rivers was staring at the floor, as was his usual at interviews, but he seemed even more intent on not looking up, even when he was being spoken to. "So Rivers there's an amazingly busy tour coming up, with a few week long breaks thrown in, why the breaks? Don't most people blow right through?"
"Well, I've been writing a lot, and the couple weeks off is just so we can chill, recuperate, give our crew a break, and record demos. As well as the press, media stuff." He stared at the floor.
"What do you feel about the interviews and stuff, does it get boring, or is it still interesting and exciting."
"Well," Pat answered, "there are times when we hate it, and there are times when it's a good break. And sometimes we get new questions."
Rivers didn't answer anything for the rest of the interview. He merely nodded along with his band mates' comments. He held out his hand to be shook and signed a few autographs with apologies for being so sloppy, in exchange for some good luck wishes in the return of his glasses. He lifted his legs up high, to get over the wires and started through the backstage area to head back to the hotel.
"Thanks," He mumbled, after he'd climbed up the stairs by Joanne's side to the hotel doors. He grabbed Sheeny's arm and quickly was in the elevator up to his room. Joanne had been waiting for that vibe. The feeling that one false step, letting him miss a step for instants, would send him screaming into a temper flare that was hard to bring him down. He was frustrated, granted, at the fact that he couldn't see; but how much of that should come out was the part he had trouble with. From her vague time with the band she'd noticed he was an all or nothing type of person, not easily constraining his emotions.
She heard screams from a fogged up glass enclosure, surely the pool. She opened the door to see Derek, Mike, the thin boy, and a few young women splashing in the pool, and Brian and Pat sitting in the hot tub. "Oh, guys, you couldn't wait for me?" she smiled.
"We didn't know where you went to." Mike smiled, wading over to the side closest to her, "Get your suit and jump on in!" He splashed her feet. She looked around the room, seeing Brian peering from the corner of his eyes. He sat up a little, letting her see his thin, but muscled physic.
"Maybe, I'm kind of hungry." She sighed, admitting to the groaning of her stomach, "Do you want pizza tonight?"
"Get Chinese!" Derek swam over.
"What do you want?" She asked them.
In the spookiest sort of way they both answered, "Chicken Chow Mein."
"And you?" She pointed at the younger man, he asked for beef chow mein, "And you two, anything?" She asked the soaking rock stars.
"Um...Steamed veggies on steamed rice?" Brian asked.
Pat chewed on the inside of his cheek for a second then decided, "moo goo gui-pan, or chicken chow mein, if they don't have it."
"Sure thing, boss." she took one more look at Brian, his eyes glued to her, the attention was flattering.