Chapter 8
Destruction
Boomer hopped eagerly into the town car when it pulled up. He confirmed the address with the driver and immediately pressed the button to put up the partition. Normally he was happy to leave it down, maybe carry some pleasant small talk but not today.
His father had mentioned that he was at the main studio and not at home. Whatever or whoever it was that he had must be pretty damn amazing for him to bother flaunting it in front of Boomer's face early.
Boomer already had a literal fuck ton of projects on hold for when his contract was up officially and he could put his full attention on music. As things were, though, his father could have the kids from Kidz Bop in there and Boomer would throw himself in there to help. Anything to get out of the city and be away from his siblings who were so deep in their own respective crap's they couldn't be bothered to not be miserable.
When he left Brick and Blossom were just pulling up and had looked suspiciously not unhappy and Butch and Buttercup were in the gym, most likely destroying it or, alternatively, themselves.
It was also fairly convenient that he'd get to get away from his girlfriend, who he apparently couldn't say two words to without starting a fight, for a while to do something he loved.
The more he thought about it the happier he was that she was in too much of a mood to tag along. Bubbles didn't really like the behind the scenes stuff anyway. She'd go with him sure, but the few times he got to work there she was always either bored or annoyed, just sitting on the lounges groaning about how everything sounded the same no matter how much he tweaked (even though it never did). So really it was a good thing that she didn't wanna come.
He was starting to think that maybe it was the outrageous amount of time he and Bubbles spent together that was making things so much worse. They spent an inordinate amount of time glued at the hip to each other.
Boomer knew his brothers were right, never arguing wasn't necessarily a good sign. He fought with Brick and Butch all the time, and occasionally Buttercup and Blossom too! It was fair to say he and his girlfriend were long overdue. But why were they fighting again? Boomer couldn't quite put his finger on it.
Before he knew it they'd pulled up in front of the shiny glass structure. Boomer thanked and tipped the driver and climbed out of the car.
He flashed his id at the security guard, who scanned it without paying him any real attention. Security was a useless precaution for him, everyone here knew him.
Boomer paused for a minute to suck up the ambiance of the building, there were creative juices flowing all through it. By the time he reached his dad's private recording room, which had been on reserve for Boomer for months, his dad didn't even register his presence. He would've been affronted if he wasn't immediately entranced by the tall drink of water currently occupying the room behind the glass.
Moe Jojo was sat behind an enormous control board, his hands moving across it absentmindedly until he seemed a little more satisfied. His brow was furrowed in deep thought.
Boomer couldn't believe his father was looking at the same girl—no, woman, she was a grown ass woman—that he was and look so dissatisfied and unfocused.
She was in the booth practically assaulting the mic with the way her hands caressed it and she pressed herself into it like it was her long lost love. Her hair was platinum blonde and wavy, down to just below her shoulders and she had blue eyes so pale they were like crystals but they were anything but clear, he couldn't read her if he tried.
She wore heavy black liner that contrasted starkly with her eyes and her lips were plush and natural. She wore a sliced up band tee to match her sliced up jeans that clung to her legs that went on for miles, and miles, and miles, and—
"Son! My handsome, talented, musical genius son!" Moe finally noticed Boomer standing in the doorway in a coma. He pushed the headphones down and pulled his son into the room. "This is my other project of whom I am very proud. She's missing something but I do not know what it is that she is missing and I am positive you can find out what it is that she is missing that I cannot."
Boomer nodded. Sure, yes, whatever. But in the meantime, he couldn't quite figure out whether she was sent from heaven or hell. Sure she had the voice of an angel but he was sure she was a devil in disguise. Hell's angel, perhaps?
She was objectively gorgeous but that voice of hers was the most sinful thing about her. Her voice was all sweet temptation, no subtlety. He already knew what his dad meant about her missing something. Her voice was raw and pure. It clashed with the synthetic, pre-recorded music they were trying to use.
"She needs better music," he mumbled. "Maybe even throw them in there with her."
The song came to a close and she joined them in the main room. Her gaze fell on Boomer and she smirked.
"Hey, Bieber Boy," she held out a slender hand for him to shake.
"Hey, Goth Taylor Swift," he shot back, a smirk of his own gracing his face. Her brows shot up in surprise but she gave a small nod, clearly impressed.
"Brat."
"Boomer."
"Moe!" Neither of them spared him a glance. "All acquainted. I am going to make a few calls, excuse me." Boomer found himself thankful for his father's departure, however temporary it might be.
"Where's the rest of the Scooby-Doo Gang?" Brat appraised him quickly.
"Getting caught by all the ghouls, goblins, and monsters of Hollywood."
"Funny."
"I know."
"No, I mean it's funny that you're here and not…what? Doing a juice cleanse or ascot shopping." She pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. "Y'know facing your own ghouls."
"Ouch," Boomer clutched his chest and feigned hurt. "Funny."
"I know." She echoed.
"No, I mean it's funny you're here and not skulking around terrorizing cats with the other raccoons." Brat's lips burst from a smirk to a full blown smile as a laugh slipped through her lips.
"So what business do you have working with your dad? You're an actor, man."
"Acting's the day job. Music has my heart." He leaned in conspiratorially. "I'm a triple threat. Guitar, singing, songwriting."
"It's cute that you think that."
"I am cute, thanks for noticing."
"Cocky." Brat bit her lip to suppress another laugh, her eyes squinting a little with the effort.
"Confidence."
"Always good to have…" she trailed off, mock seriousness alighting her tone.
Moe chose then to return, leaving Boomer to decide whether to sigh in relief or scream in frustration. He mentioned that a few people in the building were free to help with the music and if (when) it worked they could set about finding her a more permanent solution. He asked his son to stay and lend his ears and fresher opinion.
Boomer looked to Brat who'd slung a bass around her slim frame and was strumming experimentally. If there had been a moment between them it had passed.
Bubbles was back to pacing around her room like a madwoman. Boomer was long gone but him leaving had interrupted her headspace and she couldn't be bothered to keep painting like nothing was wrong.
She hadn't meant to be so mean when Boomer asked if she wanted to go with him but he'd just asked all wrong. He sounded like he was only asking her because he had to like out of obligation or something. She hadn't felt like he really wanted her to join him.
But maybe that was all in her head, they were fresh off of a big blowout. She was probably just still really sensitive and taking everything super personally.
Then again, on the other hand, why would he do something like that and just act like nothing happened? All she wanted was an apology and she wouldn't have been so mean and was that too much to ask?
Bubbles needed to get out of her own head. She joined Brick and Blossom where they'd sprawled out in the living room.
"A Knicks fan and yet you hate the Jets, Yankees, and Mets?" Blossom scoffed accusingly.
"They suck!" Instead of getting annoyed with her tone, like he usually did, Brick just laughed and held his hands up defensively.
"So do the Knicks." her sister pointed out sweetly.
"Get out." Brick's face was stony. "I am breaking up with you. We are over."
"Oh, woe is me," Blossom was laughing now. "how will I ever go on if my fake boyfriend dumps me?"
Bubbles watched their banter with interest. Her whole world was suddenly upside down. She'd somehow figured out inter-dimensional travel and entered opposite world without meaning to. The only constant seemed to be Buttercup and Butch. Those two had come out from the home gym to grab a snack from the kitchen and immediately holed themselves off in their rooms again.
"You won't go on! You'll buy a hundred cats while I sleep my way through the A-list to nurse my post-breakup sadness." Brick declared matter of factly.
"Huh." Blossom tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Y'know I always thought you were the smart one but with what you just said now I'm not so sure."
"Did you have fun at Robin's?" Bubbles interjected quickly. She didn't know how much more of this buddy-buddy crap she could take.
Over the years she wanted nothing more for these two to get along but now that they finally were she found them twice as annoying. They were so damn content and comfortable with each other it was almost like they were body swapped with Bubbles and Boomer.
"It was much needed and fantastic. I missed her a lot. She says hi by the way."
"And mom sends her love." Brick chimed in. Bubbles narrowed her eyes at them. Brick was sat next to Blossom and had his arm slung across the back of the couch. They weren't sat close enough for it to be around her per se, but Bloss didn't look like she'd particularly mind if it were.
"I'll give her a call, thanks."
"She loves hearing from you." Brick replied distractedly. He'd preoccupied himself trying to pull loose the pink ribbon that held up her sister's ponytail.
Bubbles watched with pursed lips as he succeeded in smoothly slipping it from her and whooped triumphantly when her long red locks fell to curtain her face.
"Hey!" she'd scrunched up her face and raised her hand to her hair but Brick paid her no mind. He was too busy twirling the ribbon through his fingertips like a cat. She shot him a vicious glare while Bubbles felt more and more intrusive.
He was so delightfully unfazed by her angry huffing that he hardly noticed she was about to push him off the couch until he was already on the floor, making Blossom laugh heartily.
Bubbles scowled at the two of them. They were being gross. "Get a room!"
Her outburst startled both redheads and two pairs of eyes watched her, wide and questioning, as she stormed off. She'd rather stay stuck in her head than watch them be gross.
"But we do have a room." Bubbles heard her sister mumble, followed by Brick's laugh. Bubbles responded in kind by slamming her door.
A/N: Imagine Brat as Taylor Momsen, I was going for a Taylor Momsen vibe with her. Blonde and dangerous and her music is the bomb.
