"Come on, Jennifer Bropez! Sing!"
Billy and Spencer are hanging out in the recording room. Previously Spencer had been just listening to Billy and watching him play, but Billy was convinced Spencer should join in. Spencer had protested that he didn't know how to play an instrument well enough and even if he did he wouldn't be able to; just because he could sometimes touch things now that didn't mean he could do something that complicated.
So Billy had a great idea.
"No, no way! You are, like, an actual singer! I'm not singing in front of you. Nope," Spencer protests, hands up in the air almost defensively.
"Aww, please?" Billy pouts. "Just give it a shot! I'll play, you sing - we can do something together!"
Spencer looks skeptical. Billy imagines he's a little kitten standing on the edge of a bathtub full of water, debating the merits of jumping in out of curiosity.
"Hey," Billy says slyly, "I bet you know the lyrics to my songs."
Spencer turns a little red. "Just because I go to your concerts doesn't mean I know all of your lyrics," he grumbles, but Billy knows he's caught him.
"Come on, I know you secretly love my music even if you won't admit it."
Spencer coughs. "Fine. Whatever. I'll sing one."
Billy strums out a few chords on his guitar. "Recognize that one? I bet you do! You are such a biiiig fan, right?"
"Don't push your luck, toolkit," Spencer mumbles. "Yeah, okay, sure. I do know the song. It's Bromazing. Can we just get this over with?"
Bill smiles smugly, playing the intro.
"I'm lookin' at the bro in the mirror," Spencer sings softly, almost under his breath. Billy stops strumming the guitar.
"What was that? Come on! You can't sing Bromazing without confidence! That's, like, the whole point of the song! Belt it out! Believe you are bromazing!"
Spencer's starting to blush in embarrassment. "Okay, okay, I'll try. I just...I'm not a singer okay? Don't...make fun of me."
"Wouldn't dream of it, bromigo," Billy says before playing the intro again.
"I'm looking at the bro in the mirror," Spencer practically screams (only slightly off key), "I'm tellin' him not to change a thing!"
Billy can't keep playing through his laughter and has to stop there. Spencer looks incredibly admonished and miffed. "You said you wouldn't make fun of me!"
"No, bro," Billy says, wiping a tear from his eye, "It's not like that. It's just...you were screaming it and wow you must've felt really bromazing."
Spencer groans. Billy walks over to him and pretends to pat him on the back. "There, there, lil bro. It really wasn't half bad. You aren't a bad singer! You're just in the room with the best singer the world has ever heard."
Spencer rolls his eyes good-naturedly. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. Your voice is a gift straight from the heavens. But hey...you think maybe...we can actually play some more? Maybe even other songs? It might be kinda fun to do something together that helps me forget I'm a ghost," Spencer asks hesitantly. Billy smiles.
"You bet, Bro Rida! Let's jam!"
"Ugh, I seriously have no idea how you roped me into going to yet another photoshoot. I hope it's not like that last one I followed you to. It was like...what, Y-3 or something? So whack. I can't believe people get paid to lean against a table awkwardly in ugly clothes with the most bored expression they can muster."
Spencer is sitting next to Billy in the backseat of the car on the way to Billy's next 'photoshoot'. Billy's doing his best to remain convincing, but he's never been great at keeping secrets or lying. Well, he's gotta at least try now.
"Right. Look, not even I am going to defend that," Billy throws up his hands in defeat. "Those clothes were shitty. But their money isn't so shitty, now is it?"
"As if you need it," Spencer sticks his tongue out, like are you fucking serious? The speed at which Spencer can change demeanor from 'young-potentially-responsible-adult' to 'little-teenage-shit' is enough to give Billy mental whiplash.
"Though," Spencer puts a hand on his chin thoughtfully, "Maybe you'll end up like one of those stars that burns out quickly. People stop caring, and you've spent so much of the millions you've amassed that you actually have to struggle to get by. It's a possibility." Spencer grins mischievously.
Billy shivers. "You're giving me the creeps, Edgar Allen Bro. No way is it possible that people stop loving me. I'll die before that happens." Spencer looks kinda odd at that statement. Did it matter to Spence? Oh, wait, that's probably just Spencer getting upset because Billy is such a dumbass -bringing up death in front of a recently dead kid. Even when he's trying to do something nice he fucks it up. Billy really isn't cut out for this considering-others-feelings thing, but damned if he isn't at least gonna try. He looks back to Spencer but the kid looks fine. Maybe he's just blowing this out of proportion. Nerves. Why is he nervous? Why does he keep thinking so much-
Spencer cuts off his thoughts. "Look, dude, don't think about it too hard. I was joking. I'm sure you'll be set for life. Besides, even if you're old and gross you'll still have 'The Song', right?"
Billy sighs. "I'm more than that one song. When I'm old people will still love all of my great songs about girls and sunshine and big yachts and money, and I'll still have all of those things. No way is this star burning out!" Billy practically yells the last part, catching the attention of his driver.
"I wonder how much Miranda pays your drivers to shut up about how insane you must seem," Spencer ponders, a joking edge to his voice.
Billy grunts, crossing his arms, but offers no other comment. For a little while there is silence.
"Hey, you said we were going to a photoshoot or something, right?" Spencer asks, peering out the window. "Is it like...an outdoor shoot or something? Why exactly are we headed to the middle of nowhere?"
"That's a question for Miranda, not me," Billy shrugs. Lying, right, he's completely flawless at it. Excellent form, Billy Joe Cobra. Actually, Spencer's raising one eyebrow kinda suspiciously dammit.
"Oh, man, I bet that's it!" Spencer exclaims somewhat later, after they've exited the vehicle and start walking toward the site. "I see some cameras set up. What in the world are you doing taking photos at an abandoned house? Wait...is that a boom mic? It is! This...isn't a photoshoot...it's-"
"The on-location set of Zombiepocalypse?" Billy interrupts with a sly grin.
Spencer turns to face him, his eyes widening almost comically. "Are you...are you serious right now?"
"You bet, dude," Billy says, looking rather full of himself. Ok, so maybe it was Miranda that did all the legwork to allow him on set, but it's the thought that counts, right? He'd probably get a lot of badgering from her about it later but he'd apparently given a great impression of a kicked puppy after she said 'no', so he managed to get what he wanted anyway. Billy then notices that a myriad of emotions are crossing Spencer's face - so quickly, in fact, Billy's starting to worry that Spencer's brain might actually implode. "Uh, bro," Billy whispers, leaning in closer. "You...ok?"
Suddenly Spencer lets out a loud whoop. "Dude, you are seriously the best!" he yells excitedly, words all jumbled together in a rush. Spencer reaches out in what Billy thinks might actually be a hug and for a split second Billy can actually feel Spencer's arms around him. However, Spencer quickly realizes what's happening and he falls through Billy. He looks up from the ground at Billy, a wide smile on his face and embarrassedly running a hand through his hair.
"Uh, thanks," Spencer says, picking himself up from the ground.
"Sure thing, bro," Billy smiles affectionately. The kid is pretty adorable, he has to admit. Something inside of Billy seems to get warmer whenever he sees Spencer happy. And when he's the reason Spencer's happy? That just makes it feel better. When exactly did this start happening? When did he start caring about making someone else happy just as much as performing and partying and living the lifestyle he'd always dreamed of? Questions for another day. He doesn't like thinking too hard about this kind of thing.
Spencer's already running over to the movie set, getting close and inspecting any equipment he wants since he's a ghost and no one's about to stop him. The guys are between shoots but it looks like they're preparing for a scene that's just about like any other zombie film he's seen. Billy doesn't really get the big deal about zombie movies, but he's willing to roll with it. Spencer's talking to himself about all of the equipment, excitedly jumping from one to another. Billy has no idea what any of them do, aside from the obvious like mics and cameras. But as for any sort of special effects? Billy knows nothing about that.
"Uh, hello, Mr. Cobra," one of the camera guys says. Billy kinda forgot that Spencer was the only invisible person, so he is a little startled by the guy.
"Hey, broducer! I'm ready to watch some zombie action!" Billy exclaims, trying to compensate for his lack of interest by sounding extremely excited. Maybe too excited. The guy flinches.
"Right, well, uh, as you may or may not be aware, we need to have silence on the set when filming is happening. Are you...like...a fan or something?" The guy asks, curiosity getting the better of him.
"Uh, right. You bet!" Billy says. Even Billy doesn't believe himself. He's a performer, sure, but this has to be his least convincing performance to date.
The camera guy raises an eyebrow. "Right...well...we'll be filming a pretty heavy scene, so you're pretty lucky. Don't go spoiling anything!" That's a pointed half-joke if Billy's ever heard one. Yeah, yeah, he won't be ruining anything about this mega-blockbuster zombie movie or whatever. What's there to ruin about a zombie movie, anyway? Surprise, folks - gotcha! There are zombies in this film!
"Anyway," the guy says, shifting back to the camera he's operating and away from Billy, "Mr. Desrocher is one of those directors that likes to do things in one take or less if possible. So he's not exactly too happy about you being here. Don't be surprised if he doesn't even acknowledge you. Just...don't get in the way, okay? Some of these effects, we only get one shot. Mr. Desrocher believes in doing things 'for real', you know? Not really much of that post-production CGI," Billy nods. He'll be on his best behavior. Besides, Spencer would be so pissed if he ruined some sort of pivotal scene in a zombie film.
Spencer wanders over curiously. "Talking to the key grip?"
"The what?" Billy asks, confused. "I thought he was...just a camera guy?"
Spencer sighs good-naturedly. "Nah, he's the key grip. So, yeah, he does set up the cameras, but that's not all. He's in charge of readying the set basically. Let me guess - he wants you far away from this set?" Spencer laughs. "I can't even believe they let you out here!"
Billy pouts a little. Okay, maybe he does seem a little destructive. But Spencer's the one who put a crater in his floor, dammit!
"I got a brief glance at the script," Spencer says excitedly. "Looks like they're doing a big character monologue before some zombie action. The make-up artist has done such an amazing job. I mean, yeah some things will be added post production, but they look great!"
"Let's go for a take!" someone shouts. Billy assumes it's the director. Spencer suddenly gets quiet and his attention is completely focused on set.
"Quiet on the set!" another man exclaims. Suddenly all of the people on set are completely in their own world. Billy admits it's interesting to watch, at least.
"Roll it," a voice says. "Rolling," another responds. "Speed," another voice echoes out. "Forty-six, take one."
Clack! A plate in front of the actor snaps shut. "Action!"
The actress on set (playing what Billy assumes is the main human protagonist) starts her monologue, a container of something Billy can't identify in hand. Not soon after she starts, the director calls out, "Cut. Again!"
This process repeats itself for a while, and at this point Billy wants the director to just let the girl finish her damn speech already. Spencer, however, remains enthralled.
The actress is nearing the end of her monologue. It's really more of a speech to her younger companion as they stand outside of the abandoned house. Zombies are coming in; Billy guesses they've been hiding in the house but are finally discovered. Cameras zoom around at different angles, boom mics catching the sound of every exhaled breath. Billy listens in. "You shoot 'em, they get right back up, draggin' their goddamn carcasses along the ground. You think you can get away - they aren't that fast. See - that's not how they get ya. Zombies aren't fast - they just don't stop. You have to stop. Your gun has to run out of bullets. But they will keep chasing you 'till you can't move no more. Zombies don't die. But you know what?"
There's a dramatic pause before the final line.
"Zombies burn."
The woman splashes the liquid in the container onto one of the zombies, then tosses her cigarette onto it. It erupts into flames. Billy wonders how they ensure it catches fire, how they ensure the actor is okay, things like that...but then he looks over at Spencer.
"Cut," the directors voice slices through the air, but Billy's not really paying attention. Spencer's eyes are fixated on the fire, wide and disoriented. It's like the fire is just a sheet of clear plastic and Spencer's seeing something no one else can. Drops of sweat trickle down his face, and his hands are visibly shaking.
The director's already ended the take. Billy whispers to Spencer, "Bro...Spencer, hey, can you hear me?" Spencer doesn't respond, he's still staring at the fire and that's when Billy finally gets it. Fucking hell. Fire.
Spencer...is probably reliving his own death. Jesus. Billy has to get him out of here. Fuck, how the hell is he supposed to do that if he can't touchSpencer? Spencer's looking visibly worse. Another take begins and Billy's not supposed to speak but his friend is falling apart in front of him and there's not a goddamn thing he can do about it. Should he even try to touch Spencer? Would that make it worse?
Okay, alright, think clearly. The fire triggered this. Spencer can't be moved. That means Billy has to move instead.
Billy shifts in front of Spencer, trying to block the scene from his vision. Spencer's still looking right through him, but maybe he's shaking a little less. A scene is running. Billy isn't supposed to make a noise. He tries to breathe slowly, hoping Spencer will follow. Maybe if he just...stays here...Spencer will calm down. And they can get the fuck out of here.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.
Spencer's pupils move around wildly, as if searching for something. Shit, Billy was not emotionally equipped to handle this sort of situation. Shh, Spence. Look at me. Do as I do.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
After what feels like hours to Billy but can only be minutes in reality, Spencer raises a shaking hand to his forehead. He says in a small, trembling voice, "I wanna go home."
Billy feels an ache in his chest that he doesn't understand. He wonders if Spencer means his old home or if Billy's mansion might be home now. Billy nods, gesturing to the car. He reaches out take a hold of Spencer's hand, even though he goes right through it. He can at least pretend he's helping. He leads Spencer back to where the car is parked, which is fairly far from the set. If any of the people on set noticed Billy's actions they make no move to acknowledge them. Billy can't give less of a shit. He hadn't ruined their stupid fucking movie, were they happy?
Billy's thinks he never wants to see a zombie movie again. Hell, any movie again. The pain in his chest won't go away and Spencer still looks haunted and broken and all Billy can think is it's his fault this happened.
Sometime, somehow, Billy Joe Cobra started caring too much.
In the darkness, Billy shoots up from his bed, sweat beading on his forehead. He reaches for the light beside his bed frantically, knocking his clock off the end table in the process. Four in the morning, shit. The red numbers cast an eerie light in the room. Billy gets out of bed and smashes the clock against the wall in a sudden, destructive motion. He's not sure why he does it. He just has to.
He doesn't remember much of the dream, but he does remember Spencer's face. Wasn't it not too long ago Spencer told Billy he was jealous he couldn't sleep? Hah, fuck that. You're lucky, Spence.
Billy sure as hell doesn't want to go back to sleep. He's never had a problem with bad dreams before, but ever since he fucked things up so royally by trying to make Spencer happy he hasn't slept well. Makeup teams have to cake it on a little thicker under his eyes and Miranda's voice always seems to have an edge to it. If Spencer notices, he doesn't say anything.
Billy grabs a pack of cigs from the drawer on the table by his bedside and heads out to the open balcony where the pool is. He has half a mind to jump in the water in just his boxers. Not sure why. Maybe its whatever made him smash his clock. Not worth thinking about. Nothing's really all that worth thinking about.
He leans against the railing, lighting up and taking a long drag. Part of Billy wants his old life back, where he didn't give a damn about anything as long as his fans loved him. Part of Billy can't stand the idea of losing his only friend. That's what Spence is, right? A friend?
Who the fuck needs a friend when thousands of people love you? Thousands of people that'd do anything to see you perform, talk to you, touch you? That's really all Billy needs, all he ever wanted. Billy takes another long drag, exhaling a large cloud of smoke that obscures the large drop separating him from the ground.
Popstar Billy Joe Cobra is back. He's not letting anything slow him down. Not feelings, not concern, not a dead kid that doesn't need someone like Billy in his afterlife. He's going back to how things were, and no one is going to get hurt again.
"Is there a reason you've been putting vodka in all your drinks today?" Spencer asks suspiciously.
"Pre-gaming," Billy says noncommittally, taking a sip of the coke he'd poured probably one-too-many shots of vodka into. Shoulda gone with rum. But he likes to be consistent and putting rum in sprite earlier would have been brotesque.
"Seriously? You know it's a Tuesday right?" Spencer says incredulously.
"The Freaky Tiki room is in desperate need of some lovin', Brodin," Billy drawls.
"It's just...yeah, okay, you don't actually have a day job so I guess there's no reason it'd be weird today, huh. It seems like you've been, you know, partying a lot more often recently," Spencer trails off, mostly talking to himself. He seems alright. Billy honestly can't tell if Spencer's been acting differently since-
Don't think about it.
"Look, if you don't wanna join the raging you can just sit in your room and be a killjoy. The Cobra's goin' all out tonight, though."
Spencer looks a little pissed. "What the heck is with you lately?"
Billy shrugs. "Not sure what you mean."
Spencer for a second looks angrier, but then he deflates a little. Billy says nothing. Spencer opens his mouth like he's about to say something, but stops himself. He turns and silently floats up the stairs to his bedroom. Billy watches and doesn't do anything.
The vodka burns his throat. It feels good.
The music is pounding, Billy's head is swimming, and the feel of bodies against his own is electric. He turns his head, his vision trying to keep up. People laugh. People dance. People love him.
Maybe that last shot of Brose Cuervo was one too many? Nah, fuck it.
He's forgotten all about Spencer until suddenly he appears through the crowd, phasing through the bodies, barely discernible in the low light.
Spencer what are you doing here? You don't like this. You're dead. No one can see you, no one can touch you. What's the fun in that?
Spencer's talking to him, shouting even, but Billy can't hear the words clearly over the music and the humming in his ears. What do you want, Spencer?
He looks angry. Billy stops dancing with a girl, much to her dismay. She strokes his chest a little in hopes of eliciting a response, but when she gets nothing in return she's quick to leave. Spencer says something else, but Billy can't discern the words so he doesn't respond.
Spencer looks lost for words now, an expression of resignation on his face. Why is he so upset? What did Billy do this time?
Fine, bro. If you wanna be that way...
Billy reaches for the watch on his wrist, and barely registers Spencer's eyes widening. Spencer reaches out towards Billy as he unclasps the link, but before Spencer can get close enough to potentially touch him-
He disappears.
Billy slips the watch into his pocket, and moves to the waterfalls on the side of room. He puts his head under the stream of water, soaking his hair and splashing it on his clothes. People laugh and join him, drunkenly splashing each other and thinking it's the most incredible thing in the world. Billy's drunk enough that it feels like it just might be.
From across the room, his private bartender pours high-proof vodka on the bar counter then sets it aflame. People around gasp, giggle and fall over in surprise. Billy stares, his head not moving but the images shaking. Something about looking at the fire makes him feel cold. But he's not sure why, and he doesn't want to figure it out. He moves his head out from under the waterfall, sliding in and out of the crowd, trying to forget the flames that still sear at the edges of his vision.