Nine: The Beginnings of a Legend
By: I-AM-CHUCK-BASS
Translation: Bleak Dawn
Beta : TheBookMouse
OOO
"By approving the subsequent clauses, Mr. Thomas, you have agreed to receive, on your personal account, the exact sum of 7.4 million pounds. In exchange, we expect a complete and total silence on your part the second your signature is appended to this contract. If this agreement was to be broken for a reason or another and it is found that you have somehow discussed a single element of this case, you should keep in mind that you will be subjected to a law-suit for slander and character assassination. We would then be forced to demand that 8 million pounds of damages be paid and trust that we would do everything, and we do mean everything, in our power to ensure that your reputation, your professional, and your personal life be ruined beyond repair."
Dean Thomas was sitting straight and with dignity on the chair. Clad in a black suit and tie over a red undershirt, with sober cuff-links pinned on the wrist of either sleeve, he nodded, focused, at the speech of the lawyer of the opposite side. His eyes never once looked away.
"Are we in agreement?"
Dean leaned toward his lawyer, whispered some few words to him before regaining his dispassionate demeanor, looking straight in front of him.
"My client says he is ready to sign the contract and agrees to everything that you—" he was interrupted when the man he was representing leaned closer again to whisper to him once more, taking longer this time around. "My client asks if, on your part, you will be keeping your end of the agreement."
"Of course, my client will absolutely respect any and every clause imposed. In order to avoid any question of harassment, my client will be forbidden to come near Mr. Thomas at the distance of at least 300 meters and will not attempt to come in contact with your client by any means lest he be immediately charged."
Dean nodded, satisfied.
The lawyer then handed his colleague the relevant papers for his client to sign. He considered Dean who nodded again, looking confident and signed first before sliding the contract over to his client who took great care in signing his name in an impeccable cursive, almost aristocratic, hand-writing.
The attorneys switched places and the opposite side signed the papers as well.
Theodore's lawyer scribbled a vague line at the bottom of the page before handing him the pen to do the same. The young musician got out of his chair slowly and attempted to sign the agreement as decently as his trembling hands would permit him. When he lifted his head, he suddenly met Dean's gaze straight-on.
Since the beginning of the negotiation – which was almost ten minutes ago – it was the first time the man had deigned look at his old high school classmate. And what eyes he had…Theo had the distinct impression that those light brown irises could liquefy him instantly. He was emotionless, that look, yet filled with a chill that hurt, that enraged, that gave the impression of hitting a wall made of stone, of ice.
Theodore tried to put the cap back on the pen in his clammy hands, distraught. After four failed attempts, he just put the thing on the table with a precaution that was best fit for a precious crystal idem.
The meeting was over in a flash. The two attorneys stood up and greeted each other. Dean followed and even smiled at Theodor's legal representative before giving him a last look. He was standing while Theo was slouching on his chair, devastated. He preferred to turn away, his eyesight so blurred that he could only see dots of colors behind his sunglasses.
The door slammed shut.
"Mr. Nott…"
His lawyer's voice sounded far-away. Several seconds later, the door closed a second time.
He felt around for the pen. He couldn't control the trembling of his hands at this point. He grabbed the cap, tried to put it back again. His hands, his big slender hands, still the hands of a child, attempted rather awkwardly to put the pen back together. As if that could bring everything back the way it was. A teardrop made its way to his mouth. Theo turned the pen every which way. Another tear. The pen would not cooperate. Its form started to blur, to become wet. His hands trembled so fiercely that holding the cap firmly in his hand now had become a challenge.
OOO
[DRACO]
Theo is late arriving backstage. Twenty five minutes late.
This, this is the kind of thing that pisses me off.
But, obviously, no one has informed me of his current situation and I start screaming my head off at him, telling him that he isn't taking the band seriously lately, that he shows up completely off his face, under the influence of who knows what, that he was a shitty drummer during the past few concerts, that he should really get his act together if he doesn't want to be thrown out of the band and for fuck's sake look at yourself! What's happening to you? You want us to fail, is that it? You came to a complete stop in the middle of a set yesterday, bloody hell, what the fuck is going on in your fucking head? YOU WANT US TO FAIL? HUH? ANSWER ME FOR FUCK SAKE! DON'T JUST FUCKING STAND THERE!
And Blaise intervenes: "Drake, calm down! Leave him be, he isn't okay right now…" and Hermione stays silent and watches Theo with concern.
"You always come to his defense as if he were a child, always covering up for him. I understand why he feels like he can go as ballistic as he wants to, you NEVER blame him! This bloke is going—"
With a thud, Theo collapses, right there in front of us.
Hermione screams and falls down next to him. I'm in a state of shock. A red mark begins to form on his left sleeve, started to grow, to grow and Hermione rolls over the soaked material gently.
A deep gash is there.
He had slit his wrist.
OOO
"We've been waiting outside all day. ALL FUCKING DAY!" screamed a Nine's fan who was crying hysterically at the announcement that the night's concert had been cancelled. "We slept in front of the venue, in the FREEZING COLD; we barely had anything to eat! I saved up for WEEKS in order to buy premium tickets to this! And they cancel it for BURNOUT? WE should be the one suffering from burnout at this point! Do you have any idea what it feels like to wait under the rain for the best moment of your life to arrive and see it taken again? DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE?" she repeated, gripping the guardrail where thousands of fans were clumped together while the CNN's camera captured the riot scene following the show's cancellation.
OOO
"…Are you aware of the impact that the "Granger Phenomenon" has around the world?" Jenny asked.
"I'm starting to," she nodded slowly. "It's insane, and I'm barely just noticing it now."
"Don't you think –and by you, I mean the whole band – this kind of popularity sometimes scary?"
"'Scary'?" Blaise repeated. "Personally, it's it the best thing that has very happened to me. Why would stardom be scary?"
"Well, for example, the mere fact of being able to create a flood of people screaming your names wherever you go. Or some of your fans' behaviors…"
At that exact moment, a mosaic of photographs appeared on the big screen of the studio, people's faces that had been blurred.
Among the thirty or so pictures was one that had already made major news three years earlier. It was of a twenty something Venezuelan that had a tattoo of Draco on her back with the sentence "I LOVE YOU DRAKE" written in bloody letters underneath the portrait. Next to it was one of an American who was proudly exhibiting an autograph that Theo had scribbled across her right cheek after a concert. She had chosen to immortalize it by turning it into a permanent tattoo. There was also a fourteen year old adolescent convulsing at the exit of a Glasgow concert fiercely holding onto a towel that Draco had used during the show. A Canadian girl who vowed a true cult to the band's bassist had covered every surface of her room (walls and furniture alike) with pictures of Blaise. A biker had even tattooed all of their names on his skull.
"Ah…yes, right. When you look at it this way, it can indeed be scary," admitted Blaise, watching the screen. "And I'd like to say that we don't nor will we ever condone this type of extreme acts, even if people are free to dispose of their bodies as they wish…"
"If I'm not mistaken, it seems that this sort of "extreme acts" as you called them has reached a whole new level lately, right?" asked Jenny cautiously.
There was a brief silence before Draco took the microphone.
"Right." his voice had a sort of graveness about it. "They…we addressed our deepest apologies to Mrs. Felndner, mother of Millicent Felndner…"
"Why though?" interjected Jenny swiftly. "Were you responsible? Did you influence her actions?"
"You don't understand…" Theo interrupted. "Put yourself in our shoes. To have that death on your conscience, we feel that weight on your shoulders from sunrise to sundown. There isn't…"
"You haven't answered my question."
"And what kind of answer would you like us to give you when we haven't found out yet ourselves?"
Theo's voice turned dangerously shrill and Jenny caught Blaise discreetly press down on the drummer's arm, silently urging him to calm down.
"As I was saying," exclaimed Draco, "we met Mrs. Felndner, we talked…She's lost her daughter unexpectedly and…and I can tell you that she would like nothing more than to see us drop dead. So you're asking if we feel responsible? I can honestly tell you that the answer is no, no we do not. We were not there and we did not influence her actions in any way. Still, that does not mean that we are completely guiltless in all of this."
"…so you do finally admit that you are the cause of that tragic event."
"The cause, yes—but not the ones responsible."
Jenny nodded slowly, brow furrowed, before turning to the camera.
"We'll be watching that infamous video showcasing the last minutes of Millicent's life, images that have been seen all over the world. She'd uploaded it mere seconds before her lifeless body was retrieved on her bedroom floor by her nurses. The video is no longer available on Youtube and other website at her mother's request. However, we have obtained a special authorization to stream it on the show. Let us watch it for the last time and commemorate together this priceless loss, the loss of the young Millicent Felndner."
On cue, the face of the deceased girl filled the screen.
She was putting on mascara, watching her reflection on the mirror sitting on her desk. She took a moment to finish her right eye before clearing her throat, finally facing the camera.
She was a seventeen year old with frizzy light brown hair highlighted with a few blond streaks and freckle covered high cheekbones. She had big, bright blue eyes and a beauty spot rested over her upper lip. She smiled broadly at the camera and waved before rolling her chair closer.
"It's Millicent again. Don't worry; you're seeing me for the last time. I even got all dolled up for the occasion.
She stood up in order to show her outfit. She wore a long white dress with thin straps and black shows. She swirled around three times before sitting down again.
"Anyway, I'll be brief since I don't have much time."
She ran a hand through her hair, pulling a fistful of strands and yanked it abruptly.
Chemotherapy.
Millicent threw her wig on her bed before retrieving a piece of paper from her desk.
"3425: this is the number of message sent on Facebook, twitter, nine-official, nine-contact to Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini. 3425 messages each. For the past four years. What was the content? Let me read you one of the messages at random," she cleared her throat again. "Hello Hermione, let me introduce myself. My name is Millicent Hannah Felndner, I'm fourteen years old and I reside in York. I don't really know where to start…
I just want to tell you that I love you; I love you in a way that makes the word "love" seem insignificant and insufficient to express how strongly I feel for you, for what you do. I could even die for you. Your music frees me from everything—the fights with my mum, my father's death, the girls at school who turn my life into a living hell, my sickness. Hermione's voice makes me believe that there's something after death and it helps me become less afraid of never waking up when I have to stay over at the hospital.
I've seen you in concert twice. At the start of every show, Hermione, you took the time to describe a dozen people from the audience that you could see from stage. We were close to 17 000. Even if I'd have loved for you to see and describe me as well, I found what you did very moving. It showed how much you love and care for your fans.
But I'd really like for you to finally pay attention to me.
I have leukemia. There is no need to delve into this specific subject but I've lost all will to live. I'm a burden for my mum. She doesn't say it but it's what I feel whenever she comes to visit. I've lost half my friends and those who haven't left are being distant. I feel like I'm already dead. The only times I feel alive is when I listen to you. Your voice, Hermione, bring me to life and…"
She hid her face for several seconds, wiping her tears before apologizing.
"…and I can't thank you enough for all the courage you give my damn heart to keep beating a little longer. I've just one more favour, please, please, please, could you come visit me at the hospital or just send me a message or, I don't know, give me a sign. A simple sign. Say my name. Give me a sign that you have received my message. Please. Just to give me a bit more… let's say courage. Please.
You probably receive a ton of similar letters but I swear to you that I'm sincere. I'm not lying. I'm really sick. And I hate to use my condition as an excuse but, believe me, I'm telling the truth. I wish that you would answer me from the bottom of my heart because you are…you are..."
Millicent closed her eyes and started massaging her temple, trying to stop the tears. She remained like that for nearly a whole minute before straightening her spine and with her bloodshot eyes glaring at the camera—she tore the letter she had been reading into little pieces.
"I swallowed eight pills before putting my makeup on," she carried on with a feeble voice. "I should be feeling their full effect shortly, if all goes well. Don't you worry your pretty little heads though, my death won't last over three miserable minutes but before I collapse because of your IGNORANCE and your LACK OF CONSIDERATION, I would like to tell you something."
Her face was suddenly the only thing you could see through the camera.
"SCREW YOU!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. Her voice filled the morbid silence of the studio.
Jenny shuddered from head to toe.
She glanced at the band members. Theo wasn't looking at the screen anymore—his forearms on his thighs, his face buried between his joined hands, his eyes were firmly locked on the floor. At his side Blaise, Draco and Hermione were watching the video, emotionless.
"SCREW YOU FOR LETTING ME DIE IN THIS HOSPITAL, SCREW YOU FOR LETTING ME DIE, SCREW YOU FOR LETTING ME ROT IN HERE, FOR FORGETTING ABOUT ME, FOR EXTINGUISHING ME FROM THE BIT OF FAITH I HAD PUT IN YOU, FOR DEPRIVING ME OF MY ONLY REASON TO LIFE.
I CURSE THE DAY I MET YOU. THE DAY I HEARD HERMIONE'S VOICE FOR THE FIRST TIME. IT WAS THE 9TH OF FEBRUARY, MY BIRTHDAY. I HOPE THAT YOU'LL HAVE MY DEATH ON YOUR CONSCIENCE FOREVER.
HEY DRACO, DO YOU HEAR ME? I HOPE THAT BEFORE YOU GO TO SLEEP, YOU'LL REMEMBER THAT THERE WAS A GIRL IN YORK WHO THREW HER LIFE AWAY OVER YOUR PRETTY EYES! AND HERMIONE, ICE QUEEN, KEEP THINKING ABOUT ME THE WAY I WAS CONSTANTLY THINKING ABOUT YOU. YOU POISONED EVERY ONE OF MY THOUGHTS. I HOPE THAT YOU WAKE UP IN SWEATS FROM NIGHTMARE OF ME.
BLAISE, YOU WERE THE FIRST ONE TO SMILE AT ME DURING A FANSIGNING EVENT AT HEATHROW. YOU WERE THE ONE WHO ASSURED ME THAT YOU WOULD REPLY TO ME IF I WROTE TO YOU. I ASKED YOU IF THAT WAS TRUE AND YOU PROMISED THAT YOU ALWAYS TOOK THE TIME TO ANSWER YOUR FANMAIL BECAUSE THEY WERE THE REASON YOU MADE MUSIC AND THAT KEEPING IN TOUCH WITH YOUR FANBASE WAS OF THE UTMOST IMPORTANCE. AND WHAT WAS THE RESULT? I WROTE TO EACH ONE OF YOU 3425 TIMES AND NOTHING, NOT ONE SINGLE REPLY FROM YOU.
THEO…THE..YOU…THEO…"
The camera fell to the floor; sounds of coughing could be heard in the background followed by agonizing moans. Another fit of coughing, heavier this time—Sounds of sobbing and halting panting. The screen blurred before switching to an image of the Jenny Dillinger Show logo.
The silence that followed was extraordinary. Not one person dared to breathe. Not even Jenny. The cameramen took close-ups of the band member's faces.
"I think that everyone here is devastated, shocked by content of the video of young Millicent now deceased," Jenny spoke slowly and calmly. "She was only seventeen. Seventeen. She was supposed to get her high school diploma the following year. The medical field is in constant progress, perhaps she could have been cured. Her mother told our show that her biggest dream since childhood was to become a lawyer or war nurse – she loved helping others. She…"
"Why?"
Every camera in the room turned to Hermione.
Her eyes were sparkling with unshed tears. Her face was strained but sadness— an incredible sadness - could be seen on it. She hadn't asked the question aggressively. It was a sort of a whisper, but loud enough for everyone to hear it.
"Why did you show us this? What was the point? Was it out of spite? Why play the video? I really can't understand."
She had spoken with a pained, broken, and tired voice and instantly, Jenny understood that she had made one of the biggest mistakes of her career. She felt terrible. She opened her mouth the answer but nothing came out. Nothing. She blinked several times, toying anxiously with the buttons of her outfit and under the unbearable piercing glare of Hermione, had the decency to look away.
Calmly, Hermione stood up then and left the stage, disappearing backstage.
"Hold...Hermione? Where are you going? Hermione!" exclaimed a desperate Jenny.
She turned to the camera and tried to muster up the ultimate made-for-tv smile.
"I…well…that was quite something, right? But don't worry; the good mood will be back after the break. We'll be right back with the legendary rock band NINE!"
The audience was slow to react at her speech and the cameras cut while the lights began to dim.
OOO
[PANSY]
"I don't think you fully realize.
We get approximately ten thousand messages from all over the world in a single day. A DAY. Just picture that for a second.
Add to that the tons of the letters we receive from our fan-clubs based in London, Newcastle, Ottawa and Coney Island – just to name the busiest – each week. Not to mention pictures, videos, emails – bloody hell, the emails. Let's talk about the emails for a second. We had to switch providers nine times and twenty nine times the structure of the website because the server kept crashing.
So, Millicent, darling, with all the love that I can feel for a young thing such as yourself, YOU ARE NOT AN EXCEPTION! There are literally millions of fans around the world who try to get in contact with us, using every possible means and fail. They don't hang themselves with their bed sheets or blow their brains out because of this. We are NOT responsible for this tragedy."
Lavender froze, her hand hovering over the keyboard of her MacBook air. She turned toward me, dismayed. Sooner or later I'd have to tell her that her new bright yellow glasses perched on her buggy nose made her look like a transgenic Rottweiler on drugs.
"You don't really want me to write the press release the way you said it word for word, right? After all, the girl had leukemia…"
"Y cual es el problema? Plenty of disabled people are fans of Nine. Widows and widowers are fans of Nine. Convicts are fans of Nine. Orphans are fans of Nine. Cancer ridden people are fans of Nine."
"Still, it's rather… harsh, what you said here…"
"Doesn't matter. I don't care how you write it as long as you make it crystal clear that the band has absolutely no bearing responsibility in this matter."
OOO
It was as if a curtain had fallen showing the flipside of Jenny Dillinger Show. Engineers, technicians, makeup and staff members invaded de studio while the show team tried to maintain the mood in the audience.
Seemingly lost, Jenny looked around her, not knowing what to do. She caught a glimpse of Blaise and Draco talking vehemently behind her makeup assistant. Furrowed brows, they looked preoccupied. Theo hadn't moved an inch from his initial posture during the streaming of the video. Blaise took hold of Draco's arm but the guitarist forced him to let go before suddenly getting to his feet, pushing his way through a hairdresser that was coming towards them. His pace was fast as he vanished backstage, too.
Blaise's lips moved silently and he shook his head furiously before getting to his feet. Jenny wasn't long to react.
"Where are you going?" she asked as Blaise seemed to be following Draco.
Neither one of them turned to her. She then went after them, barreling through the crowd of busy people. She looked like a raging beast who was determined not to let his pray get away.
"Hey!" she yelled shoving one of her technicians. "HEY!"
She ran backstage and, panting, grabbed Blaise's left sleeve rather rudely.
"We're going to be live in two minutes, what's the matter with you? And…and where is he going?" she cried out watching Draco get further away.
On the other side of the long corridor filled with staff member of the Jerry Dillinger Show coming and going, headphone in place and clad in sweatshirts barred with a "STAFF JDS" logo, Hermione was still walking without once looking back.
Jenny made a move to follow the pair but was promptly stopped by Blaise who barred her way with one of his arms, halting her.
"Leave them be," he ordered. "Let them deal with the bloody mess you made on their own."
They simply stood there, watching Hermione disappear at the end of the hall followed by Draco.
OOO
[BLAISE]
Draco and Hermione.
Someone should dedicate a thesis to these two, to their ambiguous relationship—distant and yet symbiotic, a bizarre sort of homogenous mixture of love and hatred—just to these two rare specimens. And what a thesis that would be. With an eight hundred page preface.
And even though I'm the person who knows Draco best, but when it comes to his relationship with Hermione, I'm incapable, utterly incapable of explaining any aspect of it.
However, the thing I'm sure of is that he's been harboring an unwholesome obsession for her since he was fourteen. It was sick, something toxic. He hates her but no one has the right to come near her—he wants her but if anyone dares to touch her, he'd lie to regret it.
She'd come to HOGWARTS in middle school. An alien. The paroxysm of antisocial behaviour and disdain, she gave off an aura of exceptional charisma like I've never seen before. An ice witch.
She had entered the classroom at nine o'clock sharp, in the middle of a math lesson. The teacher had beckoned her to the front of the class. She'd looked jaded, so impossibly blasé… When asked to introduce herself she had rolled her eyes before grounding out her response.
"Hermione Granger. Thirteen years old. Sagittarius."
And then shut herself off in an impressive stony silence that had lasted until the end of the year.
I hadn't thought Draco so weak.
While she'd stood up there, he hadn't looked at her. No, he had gazed upon her. He had breathed her in. it had been rather scary actually. Even though his features had been strained, his eyes had betrayed such marvel you'd have thought he'd died and gone to heaven.
Let us open the Theodore Nott file now. Because we can't not to. He too had been a kind of alien, though of a lesser magnitude. That is not to say that he hadn't been noticeable, in spite of all his efforts not to stand out.
As per usual that first morning in the school's yard, Draco had been holding court over his many admirers while stealing little glances at Hermione every four seconds. Hermione, on the other hand, stared intently at Theo as he stood alone, backpack in place, looking around nervously—something that hadn't eluded Draco—Draco who'd been green with envy over the fact that the new kid had attracted Hermione's attention. Hermione who'd loved nothing more than to drive Draco sick with jealousy.
So, well, yeah. Perhaps Theodore appeal hadn't been of a lesser magnitude after all.
OOO
[DEAN]
I'm the asshole in this story, me. Not Draco and least of all Theodore. Only me.
I could've said no that faithful day.
Draco had cornered me in the loo. Or to be more specific, I was washing my hands when he came out of one of the stalls.
"Hey mate!" he'd said all smiles. "It's been a while, how have you been?"
He turned the faucet on as I nodded.
Ensued then a random exchange of trivial things that was destined to make me feel at ease and stupid fuck that I am, I had been caught in his web when he'd suddenly exposed his plan. I'll spare you the details of his coxing and the sweet talking he used to better manipulate me into believing that Theodore Nott was the devil incarnate sent to earth to destroy us all if we didn't keep a close eye on him, a very close eye. We needed to get close to him, befriend him, to know him inside and out because…
"…as they say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right?" he joked. "So, what do you think?"
Needless to say, I was flattered. My ego was bursting at the thought that Draco Malfoy had come to me, chose me personally, trusted me with this—Blaise Zabini pushed me over the edge with a broad smile and his confidence.
"We're counting on you, yeah? You won't let us down, right Thomas?"
It had sounded like an affirmation rather than a question. He'd winked at me when we left the loo, patting me on the back as if we'd been the best of friends. From that moment on, I got to work with assiduousness because there was no way I was going to disappoint the grand Draco Malfoy, Lord of HOGWARTS.
And now that I think about it, that I grasp the extent of the horrible consequence of this morbid pact that we made in the toilet of the second floor of our school, all these years ago—I'm ashamed.
I'm ashamed and I regret everything.
But as usual, when you finally understand that the road you took was the wrong one and the chickens come home to roost, you realize that is far too late for you to turn back.
Thank you for reading. I know it's been forever since I last updated this but I'll try my best to translate the next chapter by next month. Please review :)