Disclaimer: Mash-up. I merged my favorite book as a kid with my favorite book as an adult. The basic premise is from Elizabeth Cadell's 1955 "The Lark Shall Sing," while the characters and setting are from Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire Mysteries. Cussing, kids scheming, white trash, anything having to do with sex was NOT in the original Cadell book, okay?
Fashion Mini-Chapters:
This section originally posted in June 2010. I got the idea that I wanted to emulate Charlaine Harris and describe what everyone wore to breakfast with Bill. I posted a fake chapter asking readers for suggestions on what everyone should wear to breakfast. So to the Original Readers currently doing the reread, THANK YOU! This was the most fucktardedly wonderful part of the story. As I wrote, I realized I was wasting a golden opportunity if all I did was describe them dressing. So, instead, we get to spend a little quality time with everyone as they get ready for breakfast.
IMPORTANT: To see what everyone looks like and their wardrobes, click on the "see Return of the Stackhouse Six page on my blog" link on my FF profile page.
Chapter Fifty-One: Bill Gets Ready
Bill Compton woke up to the odd sound of birds chirping. Dallas, of course, had birds but since his house had central air conditioning, the windows were perpetually shut. Aside from that, Bill wasn't overly fond of being awakened prematurely to the "sounds of the jungle. " He had pest control come quarterly to make sure no birds or any other creatures would impose themselves on his home. So far it had worked. Bill was pleased.
Bill rolled over in his bed. Or at least he attempted to roll over. Unfortunately, there wasn't really adequate space for rolling over. It had been many many years since he had slept in a twin-sized bed. And with Thor sheets. A Viking. Bill frowned. That reminded him of something. He wasn't altogether sure he believed Sookie's claim that the bed in her bedroom was a twin as well. He needed to find her room and see for himself at some point today...
Speaking of seeing things for himself, very soon Bill would see Eric Northman for himself. For the first time in many years. More than twelve. Or maybe it was twelve.
Eric Northman. Mr Method Actor. He wondered if Northman would even remember him. Probably not. Bill Compton was probably one of many aspiring young actors who had their hopes and dreams torn apart by Eric Northman. Bill laid back in his bed. He remembered it like it was yesterday…
Bill had gone to UCLA because they had an excellent economics department. But a little known secret was that Bill had a second reason for wanting to attend UCLA.
Bill had always had a dream to be an actor. A thespian. What other career aside from acting provided a person with an opportunity to project and enunciate and foster a commanding presence? Bill knew he couldn't do it professionally —his parents would never have allowed him to pursue something so frivolous. Comptons only did things that had meaning. While other, lesser people had jobs, Comptons had careers.
In any case, though he wasn't enrolled at UCLA Film School he was free to try out for parts in their productions.
It was his freshman year. The school was doing a performance of the musical Grease. Bill had tried out for both Danny Zuko and Kenickie. He spent hours each day practicing his singing and dancing. Thanks to Mother he was quite the proficient pianist—although they didn't like his suggestion that Danny Zuko play the piano during the play.
Finally, it was the day of the try-outs. Dozens were there competing for both parts.
Bill, being a method actor, had put tons of hair gel in his hair. He wore a black leather jacket. He had even gone to a store that catered to coeds —Bill snickered at the memory—and bought a pair of dungarees.
He stood there waiting his turn. He was going to sing "Greased Lightning." He had practiced it at least a dozen times. He knew he sounded good. He knew he had an excellent voice. How did he know this? His lovely mother had told him. Lorena Ball Compton would never lie.
He was not sure who the director was until this very tall Nordic-looking man sauntered over. It was obvious from the cocky way he carried himself that he was in charge. Listening to the whispering around him Bill deduced that his name was Eric Northman. He had come from Sweden to attend UCLA. He was a senior. From the conversations overheard around him, it sounded like this Eric Northman held a tight grip on the performances, always going for, and being rewarded with the top spots.
Bill hated him immediately on principle. Just because someone was good at something doesn't mean you always give it to them to do. You must distribute opportunity around. It was the liberal New England mindset that Bill's parents ascribed too and he too believed in it. Detractors called them limousine liberals but Bill knew which way the wind blew. Even as a freshman in college.
When his turn was called, Bill took center stage ready to sing. He got out a few notes. He thought he heard laughing and giggling but under the stage lights he couldn't discern where it was coming from.
"Go Greased Lightning— "
He started on the first refrain when suddenly the music was cut. In a flash, the director, Mr. Northman, stood in front of him.
Northman took his large paw of a hand and patted Bill's head like a dog and then wiped it on his jeans. That is, on Bill's jeans.
"You had a glop of hair gel sitting atop your head," Eric told him easily.
Right then Bill Compton knew he hated Eric Northman and would for all eternity.
"What's your name?"
"Bill."
"Well, Bill, I'm sorry but your try-out is over. I am going to suggest you try non-musicals. You certainly have a way about you. For the right production, I could certainly see you in a role. But not this one."
Yes, Bill remembered it all as though it were yesterday. Of course, he had followed Eric Northman's career. Of course he knew it was the same one.
This is why nothing could have startled him more when Sookie told him Northman was staying at her family's farmhouse.
Truthfully until he heard of Northman's desire to stay at the farmhouse—or at 'Camp Stackhouse' as Sookie ridiculously insisted on calling it—Bill had kind of made the decision in his mind that Northman was a homosexual. When they were in college, Northman had always had rather longish hair. Also, Bill never knew of him ever being in a relationship. Not in school and not from anything he'd read about him since college.
Now, Bill was quite sure Northman was not a homosexual. He was, however, a dangerous predator. And—Bill knew this first hand—he was a conceited arrogant egomaniac.
Bill was sure Eric wanted Sookie. But Bill would not give her up. Sookie was his.
He could only hope that Sookie had not fallen prey to Eric's tall, blond good looks. Sookie could be naive and impressionable sometimes. Bill hated to say it but it was indisputably the truth and a weakness in her character that bothered him immensely.
Bill wondered how he himself would respond to seeing that arrogant ass Eric Northman. He couldn't promise that he would be in control of his actions if Eric said something inappropriate. He wondered again if Northman would recognize him. Bill assumed not. The ass had probably destroyed so many lives trampling his way to the top, he couldn't be bothered to take names.
Well, time to get up.
What to wear? Bill had delicate skin and was careful to keep it covered. He didn't like those huge windows in the dining room although he imagined the covered porch kept most of the direct sunlight out.
Well, better to be safe than sorry. I'll wear my hat.
Bill paired his hat with a pair of Khakis, his favorite LeTigre polo shirt, and his penny loafers.
Since he was dressed Bill figured it was time to go downstairs. He was looking forward to his morning bran muffin.
AN: Oh gosh. I still spit up when I read this chapter. OMG. Bill is so fucking hilarious. Go vote for him in the Funniest Character Poll! Somebody! He needs to make more of a showing.
So the UCLA connection. Bet no one saw this coming, right? Me neither. After Bill's second phone appearance one reviewer commented "What the hell is up with Bill's attitude towards Eric? Does he know him? Why else would he hate him so much?" LOL. Plot bunny was born. OMG. So so funny.
Next Up: Breakfast of Champions
:D more to follow.
