Dione Robertson – Merton was the principal from Stars Hollow who expelled Jess. Tana's in here somewhere. I'm thinking of bringing Drella in. I do love to recycle Amy's characters!
I don't think I've said thank you guys for the reviews lately. Thank you so much! If I didn't have the support I do, I'm not sure my ongoing stories would be going. It's hard when no one likes them. But I take it that there is a LOT of like here. And I love you guys for it.
If there was one thing Jess hated, it was talk shows. Thirty minutes with a hyperactive blonde who asked question after question about his personal life without any interest, or even an inclination of caring. But she kept on asking a pre-thought out list of intruding questions, while crying girls in the audience proclaimed their eternal love for him, made a break for the stage, and were dragged off by previously invisible security. The first time this had happened, Jess had watched with an open mouthed grin- it was too much that these 17-year-olds were willing to get arrested on national television, just to show their support for him. It got old fast.
He was standing backstage, sipping a heavily flavored coffee some faceless gopher had brought to him. Despite the fact that random information, such as his favorite color and preferred episode of The Simpsons, circulated the internet, somehow no one seemed to know that he drank coffee black. He hadn't always, but life with Rory (the poster girl for why pregnant ladies should not drink coffee. Good going there, Lorelai) coupled with a career increasing in hours and in stress, mixed in with two loud, energetic children, and occasionally with a dash of Rory-induced psychological trauma had turned him into one of those people who were disgusted with the idea of milk in their drink. There was lots and lots of milk, along with some sugar, cinnamon, whipped cream, and God knew what else, in the coffee he was drinking. But if he put it down, people would fuss over him, and make a million alternative offers. So he stuck with the girly coffee.
In a matter of minutes, he would have to hand the coffee to someone, and walk out in front of an applauding audience, wave, and sit down on the overstuffed chair provided for him across from the blonde. He couldn't even remember who hosted this show; Merton had kicked the rising pop star that was supposed to be on the menu today off at the last minute to get Jess his interview. Merton had been extremely stressed out the last couple of days, so Jess had decided it was for the best not to negotiate a better interviewer. Merton's head might have exploded.
Suddenly, the coffee was yanked from his hand. Merton had reappeared from wherever Merton went, and was pushing Jess to a door marked 'Stage.' Like a mother hen, the busty lady who had applied a thin layer of makeup to Jess's face fifteen minutes ago began to prod his messy hair into a sexy mess, and Merton was saying words that Jess struggled to catch over the din of the audience, which could now be heard screaming Jess's name.
"We're both going down. Good luck." Shaking his head, he felt justified giving his client a forceful shove that carried him almost to the stage entrance. Jess regained his footing and walked with a swagger and a smirk towards the blonde.
However, something was different about this time. There were still young girls screaming his name, but they were all wearing t-shirts with phone numbers and slogans like 'I'm great with kids!' and 'Hire me!' written across their chests. And not all the noise was coming from people like them. A number of people, almost all of them scowling women, heckled him as he took a seat. It was a nice change from the mundane, but no one likes to be heckled.
"Jess, how are you?" asked blondie once the din had died down. He shrugged. Three girls swooned.
"Been better. Been worse." She smiled. Damn, those teeth must have cost a fortune...
"Haven't we all? How is shooting going on Winter Dreams?" They made small talk for a few minutes, a feeling of anxiety beginning to set down on Jess's shoulders. He had met today with a brave face, kissed Rory goodbye shortly and strongly, and approached the studio casually. He was going to make his confessions; he was going to be done. But now that the time for those confessions was supposed to be here, but was being drawn out, he was beginning to get nervous. Why couldn't the blonde hurry up and get on with it?
"Now, Jess. I have no idea how to put this next question tactfully, but there is something that everyone in the audience, and myself, is dying to know. It concerns a certain tabloid that came out a few days ago, with a certain story, as told by a certain former employee of yours, who had certain things to say." Jess felt like rolling his eyes. It couldn't get much more tactful than not actually asking the question, but substituting a word in place of every specification.
He'd told Rory about his decision the night after Merton went home. She was silent. She looked uneasy. When asked sarcastically why she wasn't skipping with joy at his upcoming revelations, she brought up something that had not yet occurred to him. Between the two of them, he tended to slant things so it appeared that she was the guilty one. Neither of them was completely fooled. But America was moronic and impressionable. "My wife is so mean. She won't sleep with me. I have needs. The nanny had a pussy," Rory mocked in uncharacteristic crudeness. Jess had vowed that wouldn't happen. He was doing this for her; he was going to do this her way.
So when the question was put to him, he hesitated momentarily. He'd practiced this multiple times over the last few days, as the day after had not been a realistic time period in which to get such a publicized interview and he'd had more time than originally expected. Of course ever rehearsed answer had flown out of his head when it was time to recall one of them. The audience held their breath, and the blonde even looked mildly interested. He licked his lips.
"As of late, my wife and I have been somewhat at odds. There have been no visible consequences, and separation of any sort has never been mentioned. But I did go seeking comfort outside of our bed. The girl who just came forth is not the first with which this has happened, but her story is not a lie. Well, there was no love between us. But I admit I made a mistake. Many mistakes. Which I am trying to remedy with Rory."
"PIG!" came a shout from one of the disapproving women. The audience stirred uneasily and angrily at her prompting. Many of them had automatically assumed that anything reporting trouble with Roriano must be a lie. Others had crossed their fingers. The blonde smiled.
"Oh my."
"Yea. 'Oh my' indeed."
"And what does Rory say about all of this?"
"Well, she banished me to the couch when she first kicked Mina out. And we've just made an appointment to try some marriage counseling."
"So she's not leaving?"
"Uh, no?" Unbeknownst to him, as Merton had not wanted to frazzle his nerves, the third article on the affair had come out that morning, with the false claim that Rory was packing.
"She's fine with your mistake?"
"No. But we are working through it. Because what we have is too important to throw away over a few meaningless trysts."
"Again you mention multiple mistakes. With people other than Mina Saunders?"
"Mina is the third nanny we have employed whom I been that with." The audience hissed. Merton clutched his temples on the wings of the stage. They had not discussed releasing THAT. But Jess had done it intentionally. There would be nothing new to break to the public when he was done. Everything would be on the table; it would hurt him more, but wouldn't that help him and Rory heal more?
"And once again, Rory isn't more upset than she is?" He thought fast. Don't incriminate Rory...don't incriminate Rory.
"Rory is not faultless." And...that was somewhat incriminating. Fucking A.
"Well well well, the gardener then?"
"NO, she's not a cheater. That's me. Don't call her that." The thought of Rory with another man stung. It hit him that that was probably like what it felt like for her. Only many times increased, as she had proof. Guilt had been coming to him in short stabs since this whole thing with the nannies started, but now it rammed him full force. The pain was enough to make him forget his goals, and just talk freely.
"Rory's having some emotional problems, and before she got pregnant had been using alcohol to cope. We're working together to rediscover what we lost somewhere." He realized what he'd just said. He saw the cameras several feet from himself, and realized how many people would hear his statement. He remembered that Rory had said she'd be watching his live interview among those many other people. He winced as the room grew quiet. THIS was not the Roriano they knew and loved. The blonde gaped, working her jaw to attempt to force another question out. But he was done. He'd said what he wanted to say, and then some. There was nothing left to possibly add to his interview. He stood up and walked off stage, wondering what Rory would say.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
Christopher Hayden sat in his Boston apartment, holding his three-year-old daughter, Nina, in his lap. She was coloring the images on the television, getting more and more frustrated by their refusal to stop moving and cater to her purpose. Chris watched his son-in-law walk on camera, all slick and cool. Though Chris himself did the same thing, seeing Jess do it made him scoff. Something about Jess just made him angry. Perhaps their first meeting still lingered in his mind, along with how mad Rory and Lorelai had been with him that day. He had many negative associations with Jess.
However, he hadn't picked up a tabloid lately. Nor had he watched any of the entertainment shows, or talked to any of his curious neighbors who knew whose father he was.
So when Jess's admission began, he sputtered on the energy drink in his mouth.
The little bastard.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
Jess opened the door that connected the garage to a hallway. No noise greeted him. Common sense told him that Tana and the kids were in another part of the house, but paranoia told him that Rory was on a massive killing spree, and she was coming for him.
He made his way slowly up to the bedroom, where he found her sitting on their bed, a binder spread out on her Indian-style crossed legs, a pencil eraser in her mouth. She appeared totally calm. In fact, she appeared not to know what he'd said.
"Oh, hey. How did it go?" She looked up from the script she was trying to revise.
"Did you see it?"
"I might have. How did it go?"
"Why won't you tell me if you saw it or not?"
"Because I want to know how you think it went."
"It went good. I said what I wanted to say, but I accidentally let slip something else. It may or may not be incriminating."
"What was it?"
"Uh, well, I mentioned your fondness for the drink. Oopsies." The pencil point bounced off his forehead. He was thankful a pencil was all she'd had in her hands.
Wait, scratch that. The binder came flying at him, which he narrowly managed to avoid.
"Good job, Jess! You promised you wouldn't blame me!"
"I didn't really, I just said it was your method of coping, like mine had been girls. Why are you throwing things at me?"
"Because you made me sound like an alcoholic!" He stared at her.
"Aren't you?"
"NO!" She launched the pillows from their bed at him. He caught two of the four. "You can use it to get away without being alcoholic! Besides; I haven't had any since I found out I was pregnant!"
"So you're not totally dependant. It's still not normal, how much you drank. And would you cut it out?" He threw his catches back at her.
"Define it how you may; I didn't want them to have them option of defining it!" She returned the volley. As did he. An all-out pillow war started in the room, with both adults acting like their young children as they screamed and jumped and dove and laughed. As they both went for the same pillow on the floor, Jess got there first. Rory jumped on him, sending his small frame crashing to the floor. She giggled girlishly as she straddled him from behind, his face grinding into the carpet.
"I hate people," she said in his ear, once she'd regained her breath. He shivered from her closeness.
"Me too."
"We should forget about what they think. Our lives are all about us."
"I concur. Wanna get up?"
"You don't want me to do this?" she asked innocently as she affixed her mouth to his ear. He tried to keep ahold of his thoughts as she teased him, but found it difficult. His last intelligent thought came in the form of marveling at how she could revert to the old, playful Rory under the most unpleasant and grave of conditions. Ah well. That's what their upcoming therapy was for.
