A/N: Like most of us, I like to gloss over the fact that the Tommy Stone incarnation of Brian is clearly the result of at least some plastic surgery. I just don't think make-up alone could change his appearance that much. But we all, of course, would rather see Brian than Tommy, so let's just keep pretending that when he removes the white pompadour wig and foundation he's back as our beautiful Brian Slade. Anyway, on with the next chapter.
"I'm warning you Shannon, get out now before I call Sid and have you thrown out!" Brian shouted. He threw his overcoat down and stalked into his living room with Shannon hot on his heels.
"Oh no, you're not shutting me out now Brian. We need to talk about this." She stopped in the center of the room. "Anyway, Sid follows my orders" she spat.
"Piss off." Brian hissed. He stepped behind the bar and began fixing a drink. He was tired and frustrated, and the last thing he wanted was a row with his manager.
"Fuck! Where's the bloody..." Brian threw open the small enameled doors of his bar and began rummaging.
Shannon took a deep breath and collected herself. She moved to a stack of boxes and opened a few, finally retrieving a new bottle of vodka. The apartment was furnished but barely showed signs of habitation; it looked more like a luxurious hotel suite than a home, and that's essentially what it was as Brian had only recently resumed residency there. She seized his glass and poured a single shot. He glared at her. She poured again and he snatched it out of her hands.
"Brian, I only want to help. I need to know what's been going on...I need to know why you have been so off lately. The interviews, the photoshoots, dammit, even onstage you couldn't keep it together. What's wrong?" Her inquiries sounded more like accusations than offers of help.
Brian turned his back to her and lowered his head. He sighed deeply. Shannon's eyes bored into the back of his skull.
"It's him, isn't it." She said coolly. "You thinking about Curt Wild."
Brian smiled maliciously to himself when she said Curt's last name. Poor Shannon, he thought, she's privy to everything and part of nothing.
When Brian did not respond right away Shannon knew her prediction was true. "I fucking knew it," she cursed under her breath, "I knew this would happen one day."
"And what if I am?" Brian spun around dramatically. The vodka felt warm in his chest and he could feel himself loosening up.
"This is not the time for that, Brian," Shannon replied as diplomatically as her anger would allow. "We've got bigger things to think about."
Brian momentarily wondered if anything could be more important than seeing Curt again. He remained silent.
"I need you to focus so we can talk about the tour."
"Fuck touring!" Brian snarled and slammed his glass on the bar. "And fuck Tommy Stone. I'm sick to death of this whole bloody show!"
His definance reignited Shannon's rage. Her eyes flashed with indignation. She stood rooted to the floor and clenched her jaw.
"Do you know what I did yesterday?" Brian sauntered around her and flounced down on the enormous couch. He was feeling vindictive now.
"I called him. And if I can, I'm going to see him." He waited eagerly for her to explode. To his surprise (and disappointment), she turned calmly and adjusted her coat.
"We'll talk about this later. Try to get some sleep." Best to kill him with kindness, she thought. No sense in agitating Brian Slade when his blood was up. She would revisit this problem with he was more vulnerable, when the trappings of his fame and fortune became her allies and made him pliant and needy. She knew he couldn't resist the spotlight, and as long she was the one who made it possible for him to stay in it, she would be indispensable. Best to pick your battles,and the "Curt" issue,shethought bitterly,was sure to be one of them now.
Shannon told him goodnight and left quietly. She found Sid, Brian's top security man, on the other side of the door.
"Everything okay?" Sid asked. He was a stocky, thick sort of man who tried to disguise his bricklayer's physique in fancy clothes, all of which had to be altered to accommodate his stature.
"For the moment." Shannon sighed. "Our number one priority is to keep this tour on schedule. Whatever it costs."
"Naturally." Sid grinned stupidly.
"Too much time, money, and favors have been invested in this project for it to be thrown away now, Curt Wild be damned." She seemed to be talking to herself as she stalked down the hall. Not much of a music fan himself, Sid had only heard the name once or twice before, but the flush in Shannon's face piqued his attention.
"Yes ma'am."
Brian laid back on the couch and ran his hands through his hair, blessedly free of his Tommy Stone getup. His phone call to Curt had been nothing short of a disaster...he had stumbled over his hello's and how are you's and had become ruffled by Curt's coldness, finally snapping at him and hanging up. And yet the memory of it made him smile in spite of himself.
How strong Curt sounded. Clear and sober. He was cold, yes, but his voice still carried that warm gruffness, the low rasp that made Brian's heart race.
He reached into his pocket and retrieved a piece of paper containing an address. The fight with Shannon had all but disappeared from his mind as he smoothed out the corners of the paper. In fact, his mind carried no trace of Shannon, Tommy Stone, tours, crowds, or even music. There was only himself lying on the couch and Curt somewhere in the same city. He placed the hand holding the address over his heart like a schoolgirl with a crush. How long it had been. This week, he thought, this week I'll see him. Too tired to admit to the anxiety of such a prospect, Brian closed his eyes and fell sound asleep.
