Chapter 11- The Top 7
Our contestants are feeling the heat as they come closer and closer to the finals. Who will break under the pressure? Who will rise? Only time will tell.
~//~
After the general consensus (by the judges man, by the judges.) that tonight's performances were 'the worst we've seen so far,' the American Idol contestants needed to decompress. Bela wanted to go to some high profile club named Prey, but she was vetoed by pretty much everyone. Instead, they piled into three taxis and drove around until they spotted something remote that advertised cheap alcohol.
They ended up in a small bar named Pucker's. The building was at the end of a strip mall, about two miles south of the four-o-five off exit thirty-one. A pair of red puckered lips glowed above the bar's battered-looking entrance. The parking lot was littered with broken beer bottles, cigarette stubs, and fast food wrappers.
Dean hopped out of the cab first. "Watch the glass," he told Ava as she scooted across the rear bench.
Sam pulled thirty dollars from his pocket and handed the man the bills. "Keep the change."
The cabbie nodded and asked, "You want me to come back later?" His African accent was thick, and Dean barely understood a word he was saying.
"No, I'm not sure what our plans are," Sam replied. "We'll call the cab company when we decide to leave." The door to the second cab clunked shut. Jo, Ruby and Bela walked towards them. Dean squinted when the headlights from the third cab flashed across his face as it turned into the parking lot.
The door to the bar opened, and two men staggered out. Dean checked his watch. Damn, drunk, and it's only eleven-ten. One of them tugged a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. The yellow flame from his lighter and the orange glow of the lit cigarette blazed bright in the cloudy L.A. night. He handed his friend the pack and lighter.
"The street light's busted," Jo stated. Dean nodded. It was, so was the pair of hanging lights on the front of the bar. The red wire lips were bright enough to cast a five foot circle of ruby light along the door and ground. The rest of the strip mall was shut down for the evening. Everything seemed dark and dead.
"Are you sure this place is safe?" Ava asked while pulling her jean jacket shut.
Dean threw his arm around her and said, "Don't worry. I'll protect you from any hunting monsters."
Ruby snorted and shuffled from foot to foot.
"What?" he asked.
"You'll be too busy sticking your tongue down the first attractive girl's throat to notice anything else." Gordon and Jake got out of the last cab and walked over.
"Hey!" Dean put his hand over his heart, fainting hurt. "I resent that." He looked down at Ava. "I'm a multitasker. I can protect you and have my tongue down a girl's throat at the same time."
Ava rolled her eyes and pulled out from under his arm. "I think I'll hang out with Ruby and Jo. Maybe they'll show me some karate moves or something."
Dean shrugged. "Suit yourself."
As a group, they wandered past the two smoking men and into the bar. Beyond the first door was a small entranceway with a tiny waist-high desk and stool manned by a three hundred pound bouncer. He eyed the group warily and said, "Five bucks for cover if you're over twenty-one. Eight if you're under. We check I.D.s."
Dean gave his brother a pouty glance. Sam sighed but dished out ten dollars. They flashed their driver's licenses to the big guy and got neon-yellow wrist bands. Then they made their way past the bouncer and through the second set of doors, into the bar. Dean bumped Sammy's shoulder on the way in and said, "Dude, the bouncer was giving you the eye. You should have flashed a little skin and gotten us in for free."
Sam scrunched up his nose and pushed Dean away. "Let's find a place to sit," he said.
Dean scanned the room. The place was larger on the inside than the outside had led him to believe. It could easily hold three hundred people. However, it wasn't crowded. A group of blue-collared, middle-aged men sat near the one big screen television near the far right wall. There were two bars; one was directly across from the entrance, and the other was about thirty feet to the left. The bar to the left was closed, but the bar ahead housed two bartenders, one a cute thirty-something punkish blonde woman, and the other a fit, mid-twenties guy. Of the fifteen or so stools tucked around the edge of the bar, only six of them were in use.
"There's a large table over there," Gordon said. Dean followed his finger to see the large wooden table and the eight empty chairs around it.
"Awesome," Dean stated. He let Gordon lead the way, and soon everyone had settled into their seats.
"This place isn't so bad on the inside," Ava said.
Bela gave her a disbelieving glance. "If there was any more smoke in the air this would be laser tag, and look at those men over there." She eyed the four gray-haired men sitting two tables over. "They just scream 'recently released from prison.'"
Dean took another look at them. "They're just four old men having a drink."
"Look at that one. He had a handle-bar mustache," Bela said with a shudder.
"You are a judgmental cunt," Dean replied.
She frowned and unzipped her leather jacket. "Don't be jealous, just because I was raised on the higher end of society, Dean." She smiled, putting Dean in mind of a great white shark.
"Bela," Dean began, but stopped when Sam laid a hand on his arm. His brother's look screamed, don't. So Dean mouthed back, 'fine,' and finished his sentence with, "let's just drink and have a nice evening, alright? No arguing about lifestyle comparisons."
Her lips bent in a wry grin. "Alright Dean, one non-argumentative evening, coming up."
"Great," Ruby said. "Now that you ladies are done bitch fighting, can we get something to drink?"
"Good idea," Jo added.
Jake looked up from the paper specialty menu. "You're not old enough to drink."
"My mom owns a bar. I've been drinking since I was sixteen."
Jake scowled. "Well I'm not buying you alcohol."
She clicked her tongue at him. "I wouldn't dream of letting you."
We really need to start drinking before someone tears someone else's head off, Dean thought. Luckily, the female bartender made herself known by coming up to the table and asking, "What do you want to drink?" Dean noticed she had a little star tattoo on the upper curve of her left breast. Hot.
"I'll have a Heineken," Gordon ordered.
"A Miller Light for me please," said Ava.
"What do you have on draft?" Sam asked. She shot off their drinks.
Everyone ordered, the bartender didn't ask to see Jo's ID, despite her missing a neon-yellow wrist band, and then it came to Dean's turn. "What shot do you make best, sweetheart?" Dean asked.
She huffed, like she had heard that endearment one time too many, and replied, "Purple nurple's. They're seven bucks a shot, and completely worth every penny."
"Do I even want to know what's in them?"
She laughed, "Probably not."
"Two purple nurples then."
"Sure thing." She went back over everyone else's orders then wandered back to the bar.
As they waited for their drinks, they talked about mundane things. Favorite movies, classic books, hot cars- basically anything but singing and American Idol. Dean glanced over to the bar and saw the blonde struggling with their drinks. He slid from his chair and walked over to help.
"Here, let me take that." He grabbed one of his shots off the counter and downed it. "Damn, those are good." He took the other one too. Then he picked up Sammy and Gordon's beers in one hand and Jo's in the other. "You've got the rest?" Dean nodded to the drinks already in the blonde bartender's hands.
She nodded. "Thanks." They walked back to the table and handed out the drinks. "What's your name?" she asked.
"Dean."
She stuck out her hand and said, "Well thanks again Dean. I'm Katy." She nodded back towards the bar. "How 'bout since you helped me, and your shots are gone, I'll make you something else."
"Sounds awesome." He slapped Sam on the shoulder to let him know he was getting up, and followed Katy back to the bar. Rambunctious laughter caught his attention for a moment as a group of co-ed late-twenty-somethings came through the door. When he turned back to Katy she was already behind the counter.
She leaned forward, giving him a bird's eye view of her ample cleavage and said, "So, you want something sweet?"
Dean smiled and leaned against his side of the counter. "I'd love something sweet," he replied, looking into her eyes. They were bright green. Too green to be anything but contacts.
"One screaming orgasm on the way." She reached down and pulled out a bottle of vodka.
"A screaming orgasm huh? I always thought those were more milky than sweet."
"Well, if you do it right, they'll end up milky at the end," she flirted.
Dean raised his eyebrows then took the drink as she slid it across the bar. He took a sip. "Not bad, but I like the purple purples better."
She nodded. "Yeah, most people do." Another guy came up to the bar and ordered a beer. Katy held up a finger to Dean, implying she'd be back in a minute. Dean waited.
"So, not to be cliché or anything, but have I seen you before? You look awful familiar," Katy asked.
Dean laughed then reached forward and brushed his knuckles against hers. "Katy, if we'd met before, you wouldn't have forgotten."
She snorted, "Damn, you are a cheese ball."
He raised his hands and shrugged. "Hey, I only tell the truth. I can't help it if other guys use my lines and have nothing to back it up." Dean finished off his drink then said, "Do you mind if I ask you a question?" Katy lifted one of her thin eyebrows. Dean smiled and ran his pointer finger along the edge of her shirt, near her tattoo. Her skin was soft and warm beneath his finger. "What's the significance of the star?"
"What makes you think there's any significance?"
"Well, most people get tattoos for one of two reasons. One, they were drunk and thought it'd look awesome. And two, they wanted something meaningful displayed forever on their body." Dean pulled down the neck of his shirt to show her his tattoo. "Now mine, is meaningful. Me and my brother," he used his shoulder to indicate Sammy at the table. "Got matching ones on his eighteenth birthday. They represent freedom from the devil and protection from demons." He lets his shirt slide back up. "And you don't seem like the drunken, let's do something crazy type."
Okay, so Dean might be stretching things a bit, but he often prided himself on reading people. While Katy did seem the crazy type, she also seemed the artsy, meaningful type. Her lips quirked up in a smile, and she said, "You're right. This," she pointed to the tattoo on the downward slant of her breast, "I got when I moved to L.A. I wanted to be a famous actress, and the star represented my hopes and dreams." Her eyes went dark for a moment, but then she continued. "Now, a pair of fake breasts, seven tattoos, and ten years later I'm working as a bartender at this dive, serving middle-aged men who like to ogle my ten thousand dollar purchase." She motioned to her chest.
"Well, they are very nice." Dean made sure to look into her eyes as he spoke. He knew his way around women.
She laughed. "Yeah, they are."
Dean ran his fingers along the sticky counter. "So, when do you have a break?"
"Boy, you sure persistent."
"I can't help it. I go for it when I see a pretty lady."
She snorted. "Not to mention you're what, twenty-four, twenty-five?" He nodded. "So you're a perpetual horn-dog." She paused, like she'd thought of something important. "Though, I do suppose you're awful pretty."
"Handsome. The word is handsome."
She laughed again and brought her mouth an inch from his ear. "Pretty." She smelled like Amaretto, and rum with an underlying hint of coconut. The scent made Dean's mouth water.
Whatever you want, he thought. It had been too damn long since he'd gotten laid. At least four months, since this whole American Idol thing began. American Idol. The idea popped into his head. It had been his goal to forget the whole thing tonight, and just pretend to be a normal guy out with his friends. So far he'd been successful. But now, with this hot chick almost to the point he wants her, Dean was willing to use whatever was in his arsenal. "I think I know where you've seen me from."
The words surprised her, and she pulled away from him. Her eyes narrowed, and tiny frown lines appeared between her eyes, pyramiding up her forehead. "Yeah?"
"I'm a contestant on American Idol."
Light laughter cascaded over his skin. "You are not."
He laid his palms flat against the bar, and said. "I swear." She blinked, and he could tell she still didn't believe him. He stuck out his hand again. "Katy, I'm Dean Winchester, one of the eight remaining contestants on American Idol. About two hours ago I sang Tainted Love on stage in front of hundreds of live audience members and millions of viewers." He motioned to the table. "Those guys over there are my fellow contestants. The big one is my little brother, Sam."
Her mouth parted. "You're telling the truth." Dean smiled, and her mouth went from shocked to seductive. "You can sing. That's hot." Words said, she leaned forward and pressed her full lips against his. At kisses go, it wasn't the most intense Dean had ever had, but still, lust tingled his mouth and danced down his spine. She pulled back, just enough that their lips weren't touching anymore and said, "I have a break in fifteen minutes. We can go to the women's bathroom." Her breath curled around his mouth. Cherry lip gloss stuck to his lips, and Dean snuck out his tongue to soak up the taste.
"Sounds good," he said hoarsely. She flashed him a smile and scuttled down to the other end of the bar, where a few patrons were holding out money, calling for drinks.
Dean wandered back to the table. The other bartender must have come by, because there were second, and some third sets of glasses and beer bottles littering the table. Ava was saying something about a dog, an apartment and a baseball, but Dean couldn't understand most of it. She's a complete lightweight, he thought, unsurprised. He sat in the empty seat beside Sammy and grinned at the relaxed state of his company.
"You are unbelievable," Sam commented while taking a sip of his beer.
"What?" Dean said defensively.
"Within thirty minutes you already have sweet-talked the bartender into sleeping with you."
"Hey how do you know that? We could have just flirted." Sam stared. "Okay, so we're hooking up in the bathroom in fifteen minutes. I could ask if she has a friend for you."
Sam shook his head. "No thanks."
"Your loss." A curt snort sliced across the table. "Do you have something to say Bela?" Dean asked.
"Just that your whorish ways are unsurprising."
Dean grinned. "Aww, I'm sorry. Are you jealous I'll be giving Katy the ride of her dreams, and you're stuck here being the frigid bitch you are? Don't worry, when I'm done I'll tell you about it. Give you something to fuel your fantasies." Anger flickered across her eyes and Dean smirked. One point to me.
Bela opened her mouth to retort back, but Dean turned his head to talk to Sam. "Glad we came out?"
"Yeah. I think I- we all- needed this. Some time without the pressures of voting and singing and the press."
"It's been a while since we've hung out like this. Cruising a bar, picking up chicks. I miss it."
"Yeah."
They spent the next fifteen minutes sharing old bar stories, mostly from Stanford, with the rest of the group. When Sam recounted the story of what had sparked the idea to try out for American Idol, Jo nearly fell off her seat laughing. Even Gordon cracked a grin and rolled his eyes.
A whistle followed by his name caught Dean's attention. He twisted around and saw Katy waiting for him near the bar. He gave a quick "Adios," to the group and a wink to Sammy, and strutted over to the bartender. Once close enough, he reached out and dragged his fingers along her waist. "Lead the way," he whispered.
She wove them through the tables, past the college aged co-eds and down a dark hallway to wooden door marked 'Women's' with red paint. She gripped the round handle, twisted the door open, and dragged him inside. The click of the lock sliding shut was loud in the tiny stall. The smell of cheap perfume and piss assaulted his nose, and Dean winced at the smell. Perfect for sex, he thought sarcastically. But then the door slammed shut and he was being shoved against its solid mass. Katy smashed her lips to his, and the nasty smells of single stall bathroom melted away.
Hot little pants of breath pushed into his mouth, and, for the moment, Dean let her control him. His hands stroked up and down her back, searching for the hem of her shiny green tank top. In seconds he found it. His palms scraped up the smooth expanse of her back, until they hit the length of her bra. She groaned.
"You are so hot," she murmured into his mouth. He grinned and dipped his head until his lips met the arch of her neck.
As he tasted the sweat and coconut lotion on her skin and pressed his arousal into her, Dean noticed the music playing for the first time that night. Straight Up filtered through the speakers in Paula Abdul's sweet, high pitched voice.
~//~
They fucked twice in the tiny bathroom stall. Five people had come to the door and knocked annoyingly, wanting to get in. Dean ignored them and hitched Katy higher around his waist as he covered her gasps with his mouth. When they were finished, they both fixed their clothes in the dim light and checked their appearances in the mirror hanging above the sink. Dean took down Katy's number on the back of the condom wrapper, using the black sharpie she carried in her back pocket. He promised to call. Then, high on endorphins, he leisurely walked back to the table.
"Dude, you were gone for forty-five minutes," Sammy whined as soon as Dean took his seat.
Dean checked his watch. Damn, I was.
"We were going to come save you, but Sam figured you wouldn't appreciate that," Jo joked. Her cheeks were flushed red from alcohol, and her body was more relaxed then Dean had ever seen it, but otherwise, she appeared the most sober girl at the table. Ava looked ready to pass out; she was laying her head over her crossed arms against the table. Dude, I was only gone forty-five minutes. What did she drink? Bela was sipping on some pink, fruity looking drink, and had a smile on her face. Dean knew she had to be drunk. Ruby was munching on fries slathered in ketchup.
"They serve food here?" Dean asked.
"No, we're ready to go. I've paid our tab, and Gordon's already called the cabs to come pick us up. You'll eat something when we get home."
"Alright." Food would be good, and he was hungry, but he'd just had awesome sex, so he couldn't complain.
"Everyone ready to leave?" Sam directed the question across the table. There were a wash of yes's. Coats were slid back on, and Ruby licked the last bit of grease from her fingers. She wobbled as she stood.
"I think I may need some help walking," she said conversationally.
Gordon shook his head no. Jake looped his arm around Ava's back and looked at Sam and Dean imploringly. Dean didn't want that duty, so he glanced at Sammy.
Sam sighed. "Fine, I'll do it." He walked around the table and tucked his arm though hers.
"Thanks Sam," Ruby hiccupped out. As a group they headed for the door. Dean waved and winked at Katy. She gave him a knowing smile.
This has been an excellent night, Dean reflected. Then he stepped outside and was blinded by flashing lights. He ducked his head and muttered, "What the hell?"
"Fuck. Paparazzi," Gordon snarled.
There seemed to be hundreds of them. The parking lot was packed with dozens of cars and news vans. There were men, and a few women, with expensive cameras spread out in waves across the lot. Flash after flash snapped like lightening across area.
"What do you guys have to say about tonight's performances?" cried out a faceless voice.
"What?" Sam said beside him.
"Sam Winchester, what do you have to say about your brother's defense of your performance?" This question was shouted by the man a few feet ahead.
"I uh, appreciate it." Sam answered uncertainly.
"Ava, where's your fiancé? Does he approve of your drinking?"
Ava squinted and looked for the man who asked the question. She appeared ready to cry.
"Gordon, is it true you were once arrested for battery of your sister?" A camera was shoved in Gordon's face.
"No," he growled out. "Get away from me." That seemed to spur them on, and the wave of faceless people and their flashing cameras shifted closer.
Sam bent his head and whispered to Dean, "The cabs are over there, past the crowd on the left."
"Let's keep walking," Dean replied. He looked over his shoulder to make sure Jo was okay then pressed forward. The paparazzi reluctantly parted, giving them just enough space to walk though without actually touching them.
"Is Ruby the American Idol contestant you're dating?" Someone asked Sam.
He didn't answer. They all kept walking.
"Is it true your Dad murdered your mother and killed himself afterwards?" A small recorder was shoved under Dean's nose. The question stopped Dean cold.
"No. I don't know where you're getting your information, buddy, but you need to check your sources," Dean growled out.
Another voice asked, "But it is true your mother is dead?"
Dean frowned. "Yes." Anger bubbled beneath his skin. He felt a hand wrap around his shoulder, and he spun around. It was only Sam.
"What about your Dad? Is he dead as well?"
If Dean knew which person had asked the question, he would have punched them in the face. He bit his lip to keep from responding with some choice curse words.
"Is it true your Dad was abusive?"
Okay, that it.
"No comment," Sam barked. Then they were at the cab. Sam helped Ruby inside, and shouted. "Dean get in the car." Dean almost didn't listen. He felt like throwing himself into the paparazzi and starting a fight. But then Sammy's hand was at his shoulder again, and he let himself be pushed inside.
Sam slammed the door shut and gave the address to the cab driver. The man looked at the crowd worriedly and said, "What about them?"
"If you get us home in the next twenty minutes I'll double your fare," Sam responded.
The guy gunned it. Like a cat being attacked by water, the paparazzi jumped away from the car. As they pulled out of the parking lot, one of the other cabs passed them by. Dean saw Gordon's face scowling out the window, and Ava's head rolling around on Jake's shoulder. Dean looked around for the last cab.
"It's okay; Bela and Jo's cab left first."
Dean nodded. His heartbeat roared in his ears, and his chest heaved. Ruby groaned and drooped onto Sam's shoulder. He hoped, for both Sam and his sake that the girl didn't puke.
"Motherfucking paparazzi."
"People are going to find out," Sam said morosely.
"Not if we don't tell them," Dean bit back.
"People are interested in us, Dean. They want to know about our lives. Dad is part of our lives."
Dean dug his fingers into his jeans. Dad is off limits. "People can speculate all they want about us, but if we don't tell them the truth, nobody will know anything for certain."
Sam pressed his lips together, like he was holding back words. He turned his head away. Dad was something they didn't talk about. Dad was the past, and they were the future. End of story.
~//~
The next day Ava was voted off. She burst into tears on stage, and the moment the cameras went off, her fiancé pounded up the steps and she threw herself into his arms. Jake looked flabbergasted, like he couldn't believe Ava had been voted off instead of him. They said their goodbyes; Ava hugged every single one of them and wished them good luck. The house seemed strange without her laughter.
The American Idol camera crews were filming in the house more than usual this week, so everyone was even more on their guard. Practices were tense and uncomfortable; despite the fact the upcoming show was Disco Week. Dean wanted to throw insults towards the show's producers, making fun of their themed choices, but just didn't feel up to it. Instead, he went running with Jake every morning, and spent the better part of each day shooting hoops with Gordon, bowling with Jo, and avoiding Bela and Ruby.
On Sunday they shot a commercial for the Ford Taurus. It involved take after take of driving the car a hundred feet and grinning out the window. Dean found the whole experience boring. His Impala was on a whole other level. The Taurus didn't even compare.
Then it was Tuesday again and time to perform. The crowd seemed crazier than normal; Dean swore there were more ' MARRY ME DEAN WINCHESTER ' signs than usual. Gordon was first up this week. He started off strong with a powerful rendition of Turn the Beat Around. Unfortunately for Jake, his vocals on Celebration were shaky, and the judges tore him apart when he was finished. Bela sang a surprisingly good version of Heart of Glass, and Ruby rocked the house with Fame. Sam chose to do a sweet melody with If I Can't Have You and the audience just melted into his voice. He paused mid-way through the song and ran a hand through his hair. Paula clutched at her heart. True story.
Then Dean went on. Can't go wrong with Earth, Wind and Fire, Dean thought as Ryan introduced him and his song. "Do you remember, the 21st night of September?" Dean smiled to the crowd and the cameras. "Love was changing the mind of pretenders, while chasing the clouds away." He raised his arms and did a slow turn. "Our hearts were ringing. In the key that our souls were sing-ing. As we danced in the night, remember - how the stars stole the night away. Yeah, yeah, yeah." He weaved forward, snapping his fingers with the beat. "Hey, hey, hey. Ba de ya - say do you remember. Ba de ya - dancing in September. Ba de ya - never was a cloudy d-ay." His feet shuffled to the left, and he did another full body twist.
"Ba duda, ba duda, ba duda, badu. Ba duda, badu, ba duda, badu. Ba duda, badu, ba duda!" He nodded his head with the words, grinning all the while. "My thoughts are with you.
Holding hands with your heart to see you. Only blue talk and love. remember - how we knew love was here to stay. Now December, found the love that we shared in September. Only blue talk and love, remember - the true love we share tod-ay."
For the next part he used the microphone like a conductor's stick and held it out the audience so they could sing along. "Hey, hey, hey!" Then he brought it back to his mouth. "Ba de ya - say do you remember. Ba de ya - dancing in September. Ba de ya - never was a cloudy day.......there was a. Ba de ya - say do you remember. Ba de ya - dancing in September. Ba de ya - golden dreams were shiny days." He a little sidestep maneuver that the audience cheered for. "Now our bell was ringing, aha! Our souls were singing. Do you remember every cloudy day - yau ! There was a… Ba de ya - say do you remember. Ba de ya - dancing in September. Ba de ya - never was a cloudy day.......there was a. Ba de ya - say do you remember. Ba de ya - dancing in September. Ba de ya - golden dreams were shiny days. Ba de ya de ya de ya. Ba de ya de ya de ya. Ba de ya de ya de ya - De ya....."
The upbeat music faded, as he held out the last note. Then he was finished. He took a moment to catch his breath then looked at the judges. Paula and Kara were smiling. They had been dancing during the entire length of his song. Randy's eyes were wide through his glasses, but he looked happy enough. Simon's shoulders were straight, but relaxed.
Dean smiled, relieved. He and Sammy were golden again.