Ok, here is chapter 2! YAY! lol
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Chapter 2: Me and Julio Down by the School Yard
"We're bringing another artist into G-Major."
"Well, please, stop my Panic! At the Disco." I told him void of enthusiasm.
Tommy shot me a look that told me not to get smart with Darius. Whatever.
"His name's Cr…" Darius faltered for a minute. My God, he's like the poster child for what happens after the after-party.
"Craig!" Mason cut in quickly. "His name is Craig." He said a little more softly and put his head down, staring at his hands in his lap.
Hmmm, do I smell a Love Connection? This is better than Date My Mom!
"Yea. Craig. We just don't want any …sparks to fly. At all." Darius said looking at me pointedly. Why… is he accusing little ol' me of something? "Good or bad." He clarified like I was stupid or something.
"Yea, I get it. Am I free to go Mr. Warden?" I felt like he was right outta Prison Break. With that really hot guy, who was the Devil on Joan of Arcadia before executives got stupid and pulled the best show ever. People are dumbasses.
"No." He told me plainly.
With the wave of his hand, Mason, Jamie, Pasty, Wally and Kyle all scampered from the room. Well Pasty spat first, but she left all the same.Darius pointed to the spot on the floor disgustedly and some assistant materialized from thin air and scrubbed like Cinderella before the ball.
I need to find her a Fairy-God Mother. Or Regina King; she seemed to work for Hillary Duff. She did get Chad after all. I would totally be happy with Chad. Well it would be better if it was all of Chad, but I could work with a clothed Chad too.
Darius turned to me solemnly, looking at me sternly. I felt myself shrink in my seat. "Look, Jude, in this business the Sophomore Slump is spreadin' like an epidemic. People got the attention span of a fruit fly." Darius explained to me seriously, with a tone that made me think that he thought it was all my fault that people can't pay attention.
"We need to get the word out about your next album, now." Liam told me with a slightly heavier accent that made me want to grab the stick and wrench it out of his ass and jump his Irish bones simultaneously.
Oh my God! I did not just say that about Liam. Yea I definitely just threw up in my mouth a little bit.
Darius held up a hand when I started to protest. But I have like what, 5 songs recorded… "We need ta, generate buzz. Okay?" I nodded along with him, still wondering what that meant specifically for me.
"Look." He started almost nicely. But it's Darius; he's like Wicked Witch of the Witch of the music world. He's the Wicked Witch of West Coast Customs. "Spied and you… no connection. People are bored with you two." I stared back at him.
Did he seriously think I was gonna break up with Spied because he told me so? Was he high? Well I guess the odds arebetter than a normal person, but whatever. In that moment I didn't care who he was or who I was, or what he could do to me and cover it up better than Tony Soprano. Spied and I were already fighting like we didn't care any more, and the Tommy thing didn't help to begin with.
"And what do you suppose I do, D?" I snarled back at him.
I felt my hand tingling with an overwhelming urge to smack all his teeth out of his baldhead. And what was with that asshole scarf? He keeps it at least 27 Celsius in the frickin' building, I don't think his neck could possibly be cold! Ugh! I just wanna strangle him with it!
He's like Joey from that one Friends episode when he got that hot roommate and he kept the turning the heat up so she would strip. Believe me no one will strip for Darius, and does he really wanna see Portia less than clothed? I mean I know they swing that way down South in the U.S. but it's kinda against the law here. And Darius is no Jerry Lee Lewis, besides Portia is his sister not his cousin.
I got up, feeling much more menial when I stood next to him. He's like the Jolly Green Giant. Minus the Jolly. He's like the "I'll-Eat-You-If-You-Smell-Good Green Giant". Tommy intervened for the second time today, pulling me back towards the door.
"We'll take care of it D." He assured the boss. "Watch the intern" Tommy whispered to me a little too late.
I looked back just in time to watch my heel get caught under her torso while I flew backwards. My eyes bulged as I reached out a desperate hand for Tommy to catch me. I fell even faster and gave up hope on Tommy saving me and prepared for a bruised butt. But just before I came into hard contact with the wood floor I felt a pair of strong arms underneath me.
His fingers nipped the sides of my waist lightly while his breath blew on top of head, making me shiver. I looked up at him and nearly swooned. His eyes were so blue and so… looking at me. Tommy's capable arms lifted me clearly over the horrified intern and set me back on the floor gently with his eyes still glued to mine.
I placed one foot in front of the other, still feeling woozy from Tommy's look and felt myself fall again. I gripped Tommy's shoulder while he guided me out the door. He closed it tightly and I slumped against it loudly. I let out a breath of air.
"Not so tough, girl." He joked.
He didn't even know that half of it. "Oh, yea. Darius… mean. And scary." I sputtered pathetically.
A hand reached out for me to steady myself. I grabbed it firmly and got up from the floor. Dusting off my butt, just from habit since Darius liked things more sanitary than a frickin' ER, I walked past Tommy for Studio A. He came from behind and wrapped his arm around me again. I didn't freak out over it this time and leaned against him comfortably while I wrapped my arms around his waist. He opened the door cordially and let me step in before him. We settled into our new, plushy leather seats and stared at each for a minute.
"Whacha got for me girl?" He broke the silence with that stupid question?
I looked back at him blankly "Nothin', Quincy." I stated.
He looked at me in surprise and broke out laughing. Why the hell was he laughing? He hasn't written anything since Frozen. And that sucked until I spiffed it up. His laughs continued and I finally caught on, so we sat giggling together for like twenty minutes. I laughed in general, nothing was specifically funny to me; but I didn't really know what he was laughing at.
"Glad to see things aren't awkward between you two." Spied said angrily from the door.
I whipped my head towards him to see his face completely flushed, and his chest rising and falling rapidly. Did he just run the Badwater ultra marathon, or did he need to visit White Goodman?
"I mean, you did say it was 'an awful night' didn't you, Over-rated?" He spat his nickname for me viciously, like he was some catty girl.
"Whatever Ninja-Turtle." I scoffed.
I noticed how out of place Tommy looked as his eyes darted between Spied and me, like he was watching a rousing game of Pong.
"Jude. I really think we should talk." Spied told me seriously, his breathing back to normal. Who is he? Leonardo Di-frickin'-Caprio, I think we should talk, Pssht. Whatever.
"That's great Spied, but I gotta record." I told him through clenched teeth and turned my head away. God, I was acting like Sadie. Talk about cold.
"What? Gotta do your producer?" He challenged.
Next to me I heard Tommy inhale loudly and when I looked over, his face was redder than that Valentine's Day card I made him last year. I couldn't tell if he was mad or embarrassed. I tapped his shoulder but Spied scoffed too quickly for me to assess what was going through Tommy's head. I looked back again and huffed.
I was really starting to miss happy-go-lucky Spied, who thought it was funny when he kicked my butt on stage and the Fear Factor Popsicles were 'awesomest effing thing on the planet, dude!'
"Just go, Spied." I told him. He bit down on his lower lip with his front teeth and opened his mouth like he was going to say something. But he waved it off like it didn't really matter. He was being worse than Dean was during the second season of Gilmore Girls when everyone could tell that Rory was in love with Jess. And who could blame her? Jess was the hot bad boy and Dean was the cute boy-next-door.
"Fine."
He huffed and slammed the door on Tommy and I. This was starting to get way too Real World: San Diego for me.
"Don't you think you were a little, harsh, Jude?"
"No."
"I mean I know, he was…" Tommy started ruefully with a thoughtful shake of his head, thinking for a word that could put douche bag mildly, but I cut him off.
"Just leave it." I said quietly but with a certain finality, and really feeling like Sadie.
Ipicked up my guitar and strummed the beginning of a riff. Tommy picked up quickly and mimicked the melody on the keyboard.
"I tried to tell you I need my space." I stopped, thinking back to Spied and then about Tommy. An overwhelming confusion surfaced, making my head spin.
"I've got to get some distance in between, my heart and my head." I sang softly then looked up at Tommy.
His expression was unreadable. We sat stringing chords together, melding melodies into one another and before either of us realized we had a song.
"Work on some lyrics." He told me quietly. I nodded my head silently.
"Just lemme go see what D wants for this new kid and then I'll take ya home. Ok?" I nodded again, silently picking up my bag and walking out the room feeling slightly Girl, Interrupted by less psyche-ward…y.
I wandered around realizing it was later than I thought. I quickly looked at my watch making sure it wasn't the wee hours of the morning. I mean my mom would have an embolism and after I saw the Exorcism of Emily Rose, I do not want to be conscious at any time around 3 in morning. I mean what the hell, literally, could happen to me? I prefer not tempting perpetually pissed off demons.
I slid over to the table in the middle of the entrance hallway, seeing a folder with Jude written across it. The Sharpie smell wafted from the dull-yellow surface, making me woozy. I opened the folder weirdly, feeling totally numb from the smell. I looked up for a minute, staring at a plaque on the wall diagonal from me.
I saw Darius staring back at me with his forefingers seemingly pointed at me too. I laughed loudly into the still air; while my giggles echoed, I laughed more. When the hilarity finally died away I looked over to the fake fireplace that had been roaring since December 1st. The orange flames licked the golden ones until it seemed like the consuming fire had only shards of yellow.
I wanted to reach in and touch it.
I got up for a moment but then realized the Sharpie must have gotten to me a lot. I sat back down and saw the folder differently. It was complacent and laughing at me. Like that trophy the smart girl got for stealing a poem on Hey Arnold! I still remember the damn poem.
Your love is like a bell,
Ringing,
Ringing,
In my heart.
God, how sad am I? I can't ever remember the chord progression to Criminal but I remember stupid shit like that? I should be holed up forever.
When my light-head finally faded I looked back down at the folder, ignoring the beige tint that mocked me. I slipped the papers out to see messy cursive looking back at me.
The penmanship was familiar and it frustrated me that I couldn't place it. It was like that weird guy from the Subway commercials and the previews from Benchwarmers. And no matter how hard I tried I couldn't place him. I was honestly afraid to look him up on because they always have the movie poster for Silent Hill or American Haunting and they scare me.
Two years ago Jamie tricked me into seeing the original Exorcist and I got so scared that I cried. I mean really cried; I was bawling all over Nana Andrew's throw pillows. I mean I was so hysterical and worked myself up so much that I threw up. And in my infinite wisdom, I crawled back from the bathroom and watched more. (I later found out that Nana had to retire the carpet, I threw up on when I missed the toilet, out of the house. Jamie said it was in a safe place now. Actually he said it was 'part of a delicate ecosystem he liked to call Jamesica.' He's a weirdo.)
Needless to say, I pissed Sadie off for two months when I wouldn't sleep in my own room. I remember telling her that my door was too close to the stairs and that the demon-girl (my fond nickname for her) was going to "backwards crawl up the stairs and vomit Devil blood all over me" (I'm not the most well spoken individual) and then I used some graphic language about what she would do with a cross. Believe me, it wasn't a pretty sight because every night she would make me explain why I demanded to sleep in her room, and I would remember the movie and start to cry.
Tommy says I'm a crybaby, he's right. One night he even yelled at me when I ran from the recording booth to turn the lights on the other side. He didn't believe me when I told him that it was scary to look through the glass and only see his outline while the rest of the room was pitch black. He actually told me that I just wanted to look at him some more. Then I shoved his irritating swivel chair into his shins, flipping on the lights and storming back into the booth. Gawd, how Jennifer Love Hewitt can I get? I'm like a frickin' Party of Five long-lost cast mate. I'm pathetic.
I shook myself of my Captain Howdy and Scott Wolf thoughts, shuddering lightly, and pulled the papers close to my face to read them. I realized they were lyrics.
I read them over twice and slumped back in my chair, hoping to God I wasn't the inspiration for these lyrics. Normally I'd be flattered to have roused creative juices enough to write a song, but this time I couldn't be. These were the lyrics from a seriously broken heart.
Like worse than when Harvey dumped Sabrina and the show went to hell.
I looked down at the papers in my hands limply, knowing that this song was because of me but not being ready to admit it. Behind me, I heard fainting footsteps and then the soft click of the old hinges of the main doors of G-Major.
I picked myself up from the couch and rushed to front of the building. In front of me I watched the back of Spied's mechanic jacket retreating dejectedly towards his car. I put my hands against the frosting glass, wishing that I could go out to him, but I couldn't. Poor Nick Lachey, maybe this was how he felt when he stood in his house for the last time. (I mean he said so many damn times during his MTV special that a monkey could figure out that he missed his house, but whatever, back to my self pity.)
Heartbreak's a bitch and I couldn't even imagine how Spied felt.
No actually I could. After my oh-so-Sweet Sixteen I wanted to curl up in a hole and never come out. I bet I could have made friends with beavers or whatever.
I watched him turn around and face me while my breath hitched in my throat. For a moment I envisioned myself running to him, wrapping my arms around him and making all our problems go away. But when he lifted his hand and waved a silent goodbye, I knew I couldn't fix this. I caused it. Which, b-t-w, really sucks. When you're on the other side of the breakup you can blame him and be bitter at him. But when you cause it, you can't be bitter. I wanted out, and I got it. But if I wanted it so badly, then why do I feel like pulling a Nicole Richie and making myself sick?
"Jude." Tommy said suddenly.
I whipped my hand to see his face look at me for a moment and then look out the door to see a small speck of Spiederman walking away. He closed his mouth and nodded acquiescently.
"Ready?" He asked. I caught a little indignant impatience in his voice. What a girl.
"Yea. Let's go." I said neutrally.
The ride was dead silent; I didn't feel like I could take any noise. Tommy seemed to notice and barely even made a sound while he breathed. He pulled up to my driveway smoothly while I unbuckled my seatbelt. "Later Quincy." I said softly without even looking at him and slammed the door a little harder than I meant to.
"Night girl." Tommy Quincy muttered to himself while he watched Jude unlock her front door while a light illuminated the hallway. He waited until the light turned off and he could see the light flicker of passing commercials on the television. He sighed gruffly to himself and smacked the stick while he shifted out of her driveway and sped off. Tommy always told himself not to agonize when she acted like this. But every time his worried thoughts turned back to her, circling and playing in his head while he tried to sleep. He grunted into his pillow, turning it over to touch the cold his face. "Jude…" He murmured again and finally feeling himself drift off.
The next day...
"Oh, oh! Dish!" Kat demanded making me laugh like hadn't in a while. The folder was still on my mind and sitting on me bed. It was like a frickin' time bomb.
I should call Tom Cruise to disarm it. But he would probably jump all the hell over my pillows and break the springs in my mattress while he screamed about Katie Holms. I heard his son's name means pickpocket in Hebrew or Egyptian or something. Ha ha ha, that's really funny. Pickpocket Cruise… if I knew the kid I would punch him into The Neverland Ranch, let Michael take care of his scrapes. Ew. What is wrong with me?
Kat and I sat on my living room couch, catching up. Well not really, it was a Saturday afternoon that had already melted into the early evening and we had long given up on Katrina Pitt and Jude Andrews. So we stayed over each other's houses and watched movies. We had paused Gigli when I started my recount of the day.
"There's nothing to dish. I'm just getting sick of all the drama with him." I told her, skillfully leaving out the whole song thing. I didn't want to tell anyone about it. Hell, I didn't want to say it out loud. It just made it even more real.
Oh my God! I'm like the guy in the Bedford Diaries who didn't want anyone to know that he was going to be a father because it would make it totally real. (I also got a huge kick outta the fact that the gossip columnist was Sexy Sadie. Coincidence? I think not.)
"Drama. Vincent Spiederman. I'm failing to connect the dots." Kat told me with a perplexed look.
"When you add Tommy Quincy to any equation it always spells trouble." I told her mixing my subjects slightly. I guess an equation can't really spell anything, but no one cared.
"Well do you… want out?" She trailed off slightly high-pitched, verbalizing my thoughts completely, and looking at me intently. I shrugged and played the innocent, knowing I was only being half truthful. She kept looking at me then grabbed a handful of popcorn, threw half in her mouth and the rest at me. We continued to giggle while the movie played in front of us.
"What on Gilmore Girls this week? I totally missed it." She asked suddenly.
"Well Troubadour guy made another appearance."
"Song?"
"Me and Julio Down by the School Yard."
"Hmmm, nice touch what else."
"Richard dissed South Dakota, said it smelled like a foot. Emily went blind from Latex surgery. Michele drank 2 milk for two weeks. Jackson was growing marijuana…" I stopped for a minute looking up at the ceiling while I tried to think of the major moments of the episode. OHMYGOD! Of course!
"Oh My God! Luke and Loreli are so not getting married. I know it!" Kat gratifyingly gasped along with me
"No!" She said in an exclaimed whisper, eyes wide with desperation. I mean Jeez, TV's cutest couple was crumbling before our eyes. Sad, sad day in history.
"What's up at G-Major? Anything with Tommy?" Kat asked with a wiggle of her eyebrows. That was, dare I say it… sexually suggestive! I snorted in disbelief. God, I sounded like a pig. I rubbed my nose in slight pain as I rolled my eyes to communicate my answer.
I was debating tell Kat about the song when she asked about Darius. Actually she called him Big D-Whopper. Her clever nickname taken from those enormous burgers at McDonald King or whatever. Do the really wonder whythey havehigh blood pressure?I mean consuming individual cows will lead to the inevitable J.Lo butt and only she can pull it off as booty and only Beyoncé can pull herself off as bootylicious. Old fat white guys that still wear button-down shirts that barely buttoned down in college are so not at the DIVA level. They have many sex changes to go.
"He wants some buzz for the album." I half told her everything that went down. She nodded, and then lit up like the proverbial light bulb above her head was shining.
"OhmiGawd! You could do like a live version of a song on your album." I rolled my eyes at her gestures that made her look like she was Demi Moore in Ghost. But she would never have sex with Patrick Swazye over a clay machine. She would wait till the got in bed.
"Yea, like Kelly Clarkson?" I scoffed. Even though I like Kelly now. I don't even hate it as much when the call me the Canadian Kelly, eh… on TV and stuff.
Even though like no one even says eh at the end of sentences here. Just like I'm pretty sure French men don't wear nautical-stripped girl shirts with those knobbed moustaches and berets. But whatever. To each his own, eh?
"That's not so bad." She said looking hurt on behalf of Kelly.
"Yea except you can hear those guys screaming the things they want to do to her in the background."
"They are not." She fought me. Yes, they really did. And it was quite Penthouse inspired. Naughty, naughty. Wait… can I say that? I'm just barely seventeen. Is slutiness really only reserved for those who can not only tease but can put out too? Legally of course… hmmm, I should call Love Line.
Kat sat totally still, acting as though she still didn't believe me but I could tell she was attempting to absorb my news while I couldn't help but let my thoughts drift to my current romantic situation.
Have you ever felt like this? Like everything around you is fun and everyone is having a good time. And normally you would be laughing along with everyone. But you have this cloud hanging over you and each time your face cracks into a smile you remember your frickin' cloud and everything is a little bit gloomier. It really sucks and it seemed like one part of my life was falling apart in front of my eyes.
Footnote: I used part of a Juderman convo from Miss World, the whole "That's great Spied." and "get down with your producer" thing from the opening scene. And I remembered Jamesica from the first season so I couldn't not include it lol!
I want to thank everyone who reviewed!Catch1star (( I love your handle, it reminds me of the Superstar Satellite thingy from the beginning of the season!)), tommys21 ((could there be a better 21? Uh, no! lol)),Duddley111((if that's the Duddley from Harry Potter than I am eternally devoted to you, I am obessed!)),Chrisy16 ((Craig is next chapter, I pretty promise))and Funkyicecube((I am in love with you handle! I've seen a misshappen ice cube before and now I'm on a serious safari for a funky one! lol)) You guys feed my addiction and I thank you! Please tell my what you think of this chapter and I promise to post three quickly! A little peek at next chater:
-Jude doesn't really go to Carson High anymore
-Spied reveals a deeper side, to a sleeping Jude...
-Craig finally makes an appearence!
